Work Text:
There was no humanity left in her by the time the final body fell. It had been cleaved in half as clean as one could when a body spurted blood like a fountain. There was once a time she had been a great knight. A knight held in esteem so high she could dine with the king. He was a close friend. A great ruler. A ruthless man. Ruthless and dead. Dead dead dead dead dead.
He wouldn’t let her leave, wouldn’t let her retire. She was tired. Her arm was gone, her leg crippled, there was no way for her to continue. Well, not without the high mage. The high mage…they were wonderful. A kind soul she wishes she did not have to kill. She had to, though. If they were left alive, they would’ve fallen. They would’ve gone down the wrong path. It was necessary. It was all necessary. All of it. It had to be or else she didn’t know what she’d do with herself. Oh gods, she doesn’t know what to do with herself.
The high mage, Rosemary—her Rose —was lying in thei- her bed. Hers. No one else’s. No one that mattered, anyway. She wouldn’t wake in the morning. Not anymore. As for the person that used to wake with her…she- it —for it didn’t deserve to be called something so human, so familiar—doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t deserve to care. It killed the one it supposedly loved. Promised to love to the ends of the earth.
It looked down with five unfeeling eyes to the corpse at its feet. They burned. Strange. Why did its eyes… no. There was something more important than that. A burning feeling in its gut. It felt hollow. Empty. There used to be betrayal there but it changed. The feeling was something else—something different, something more. But what?
It clicked.
Its gaze changed. Something filled it. Something insatiable. A fire lit. It was not passion. This… thing could not feel that. Not anymore. It crouched down to take a closer look at the king. Something about him seemed…appealing. Appetising. It licked its lips. With mechanical movements, it spoke. The words were of a language long forgotten, something from no memories of its own. “⌇⍜⎍⌰ ⍜⎎ ⎎⌰⟒⌇⊑, ⌇⟒⌿⏃⍀⏃⏁⟒ ⊬⍜⎍⍀⌇⟒⌰⎎. ⌰⟒⏃⎐⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⍜⎅⊬ ⏚⟒⊑⟟⋏⎅, ⎎⍜⍀ ⏁⊑⟟⌇ ⋔⏃⌇⏁⟒⍀ ⊑⎍⋏☌⟒⍀⌇.”
As it spoke these words, an angel of death had just arrived, slowly descending from a few inches off the ground. The moment the being’s feet met the floor, something light rose from the fallen king’s corpse. Death’s servant tensed. “You are of a forbidden kind, I see.”
The creature crouched beside the body said nothing, for there were no words that have not been spoken by the angel. The former did not look up when the other spoke. “Tch, take his soul. He would suffer whether or not you eat it.”
It was a strange mercy granted by the angel. Although, it supposes it makes sense. Angels of the Dark Lady are not merciless creatures, though their manners are lacking. It finally looked up, studying the angel. She wore a wide brimmed hat with a dark veil that ended around her chest. The veil separated on the sides to connect to her elbow and wrist. Nothing behind it was visible. The long black dress and halberd, a common weapon used by them, were there, as always. The monster always thought they looked too human, though the face under the veil was likely anything but. There was a rigidness to her body, like she was waiting for it to snap and attack her. It wouldn’t. There was still some self restraint in its body. “We will not be so merciful next we meet.”
It knows that. It knows it will meet one again. Death is no longer a worry for it. With that thought, it grabs the light and begins to take a bite. “Swallow it whole. Do not make his final moments prolonged agony.”
He would still be in great pain, no matter how it ate him. However, it still put the whole soul into its mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly. “There are no souls here. Go. We hope you choose your next meal well.”
With those words, the angel left in an instant. It followed soon after, almost eager to leave. If it could even feel things like that anymore.
It was getting hungry.