"...Cease...Fire..."
The words tumbled like dirt onto the ground. The smell of blood and ash was overpowering as she stood up, looking towards the broken window.
She could feel all eyes on her as not one shot rang out. Next, to her, a gruff voice muttered out in disbelief, "B-Boss are you kidding me-"
Her club swung, colliding with the source of that voice, sending that body into a wall, "SHUT UP!"
The small bit of pleasure she felt from that act of violence was fleeting. The man that she killed did not satisfy her need.
A loud screech entered her ears, "WHAT THE FUCK, BITCH?! WHY DID THEY GET AWAY?! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LET THEM GO?"
"...Shut up." She hissed out, her body swaying to and fro. A million thoughts and memories raced through her head, overpowering the screeching in her ear as she processed the face she saw tonight.
A face that was filled with love for her, even after she wounded him.
A face she couldn't get out of her mind no matter how hard she tried.
His beautiful face...
Contorted with fear and revulsion, his deep ocean eyes, glaring at her as cut into her.
He called her a monster...
Barely human.
It hurts...
It hurts it hurts it HURTS!
Sparks flew from her busted arm, the weight of it causing her shoulder to pull down. A stabbing pain ripping through from the joint, up her neck, igniting her nerves. The sharp sting his sword on her side strangled her heart.
Why?
Of all the people in the world...
Why him?!
WHY WAS HE WITH HER?!
Her body began to tremble, and she could feel a large hand gently pressing on her left shoulder, trying to soothe it. "Sis..."
She snarled, her body tensing as she jerked her shoulder away, "Leave me alone." She was tearing down the doors and walls of her memory, tracing over every frame playing out in her mind.
Every word, every image devoured until she consumed all the information she could before feasting on the next. The so-called job, the side pauses on the phone, the random cuts on Tristan's' flesh. All of these things, she ignored! Even just moments earlier, while choking him, she noticed that bruise. All of it, she was purposefully avoiding until she was staring at it until she couldn't ignore it any longer.
The smell of burning flesh wouldn't go away. The taste of copper, curdling on her tongue, would not cease. What was worse was that the sound of war drums and gunshots, echoing inside her ears.
She was back there, in that hell, gripping what little remained of her arm, the blood pouring onto the dirt, mixing together as the complete agony ate at her reality.
Tristan...Archangel...
He was her enemy!
She shook her head violently.
"No! No, he's not!"
He had to be.
Tears began to well up, her throat closing.
"I love him."
HE LIED!
She was staring at the copper-scented mud beneath her boots.
"I don't want to hurt him..."
Stop lying.
Her eyes closed tightly, gritting her teeth.
"I'm not lying!"
He was her prey.
She gasped, opening her eyes wide, taking in her left arm, twitching in the dirt next to her.
"I don't want to be alone...I don't ...have to be alone..."
The smell began to recede; the taste started to fade from her mouth. The scene before her eyes began to dissipate into ash, crumbling into the floors of the warehouse. The pounding in her ears began to dim, and her shoulders slowly relaxed, "...I don't have to be alone... He's MINE."
He was her enemy.
For now.
He was masquerading around as a hero with the coward, but he really wasn't the angel he pretending to be.
She turned her head, taking in the numerous wounded around her; the eviscerated ankles, the bleeding stomachs, each one made by him and him alone.
Seraph, a hypocrite, did not allow her sword to pierce anyone but her opponent. Even then, the damage was just to a prosthetic arm.
Tristan, on the other hand, did not hold the same consideration. There was darkness inside of him; the same kind he had when he stabbed out Erics' eye. She would reach for that darkness, tug at it, and pull it, and no matter how hard he tried to fight her, she would bring it out into the light for the world to see. Anything that 'Eva' helped him build to shield him, Ira would destroy until there was nothing left.
Then he would be hers.
Completely.
That coward, that 'Eva'... would be left with nothing.
Wrath closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before doing the only thing she could possibly do at this moment.
Laugh.
It was a low laugh, barely heard beneath her mask. Slowly it increased in volume as the hilarity of it all began to hit her, just like it did back in that hell. Her laugh grew into a roaring cackle, echoing in the warehouse. Everyone around her fearfully silent as they took in the sound of her all-consuming joy, her mind preparing for war.
With Tristan, her beloved Tristan...the reward
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