Fool
Chapter One

An original fiction by Yami Shizuka

Happy reading,

-Yami-

Updated February 25, 2007.

It was raining again in the Old City, the sky opening up and letting the cold water fall down in elegant sheets. Thunder rumbled distantly and there was almost a sense of surrealism hovering like a thick mist. Small rivers ran down the streets and not even the trees could provide shelter from the storm.

Amidst the downpour alone figure could be seen leaning almost casually against the City’s Cathedral. It was a girl, her eyes dulled and expressionless. She was completely soaked and though her short black hair stuck to her forehead, she didn’t seem to be aware of anything and merely stared vacantly across the courtyard.

The bells in the large tower of the cathedral began to ring, their solemn tolls slightly muted by the rain, it seemed to muffle everything like a cold blanket.

The streets were completely empty now, the wet cobblestones gleaming slightly in the faint light of the street lamps. The city’s good people were tucked in for the night, windows shut tight and doors bolted shut, and had good reason to for it was nearing the time when the city’s other inhabitants roamed the streets. The solemn ringing of the bells ended with three distinct tolls. Three a.m., the Devil’s Hour.

The calm, surreal atmosphere floating over the city was shattered by a scream, jumpstarting the dark hour with a bang. A figure could be seen scrambling almost frantically down the street, footsteps echoing desolately into the rain. A shadow followed after it, silent and quick. The girl watched the two as if it were a mildly interesting television program, still leaning against the Cathedral.

The figure passed one of the many street lanterns and the mystery to the figure’s identity was solved. A woman, her dress thoroughly crumpled and drenched in the rain, continued to run. Her pale face was twisted in an expression of utter terror and the make-up running in black and red streams down her cheeks only seemed to add to her air of distress.

Her face was only illuminated for an instant before the shadow caught up with her and devoured her body in its dark depths.

If one had looked close, they would’ve seen the woman’s frail body fall limp in strong arms and her expression of terror untwist itself to a sleepy, dazed stupor. Hungry lips locked onto the woman’s neck and blue veins began to show against her snow-white skin.

It only took a moment before the shadow set her gracefully onto the ground, her hair falling out of its tight bun and splaying artistically around her deathly pale face. The woman looked as if she had merely fallen asleep, but hers would be eternal.

The shadow stood and the street lamps momentarily illuminated its face. It looked to be a young man, his cold, blue eyes staring disdainfully upon the woman’s corpse. The pale skin around his lips was tinged with crimson, but he quickly wiped it away.

Throwing back the hood of his cloak, his pale silver hair glowed almost effervescently in the soft light. With his light complexion and a slight touch of rouge to his cheeks from his meal, he looked like an angel. An angel from Hell.

His lips moved, but a sound did not escape. Those flawless, pale lips formed the single word, “whore.” The man turned to survey his surroundings, searching for any possible witnesses. This was his territory, this was his hour.

It wasn’t long before he caught sight of the girl, automatically aware that she had seen everything. He wondered fleetingly if he should also grant her the same fate as the woman lying at his feet.

Come here, he ordered, his thoughts echoing across the small courtyard. Come to me.

The girl didn’t hesitate, shrugging off of the wall and slowly walking toward him. Her movements were muted but not stifled. Her bare feet made no sound as she walked forward.

There was a clinking of chains and her procession stopped as the collar around her frail neck tightened. The man frowned, farther from her than he wished to be. Thunder rumbled and the wind began to pick up slightly, rattling the chains that connected the girl’s collar to the Cathedral.

“So this the Church’s pathetic attempt to bait me?” the man said. Though his quizzical voice was soft, its slightly mocking air could be heard above the rain.

The girl nodded and a cold smirk touched the man’s lips. “I see,” he said. “Let me guess, you are here to protect the Church from Us?” The girl nodded once more.

With a flick of a wrist, the chain fell, a result of the man’s well concentrated telekinesis. The girl didn’t move, barreling blinking at the tingle of power on her skin from the man’s mere presence.

“Well, come then,” the man said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Another nod from the girl and then she disappeared, reappearing momentarily behind him, though it only appeared that way to the naked eye; well, the human naked eye that is.

The man let another cold smirk briefly grace his lips before he too seemed to disappear. The two seemed to be engaged in a waltz, an endless waltz; each testing the other’s power. The rain began to fall a little more heavily.

It was the man who stopped, catching the girl by her arm, quelling her attempt to swing at him. “You are powerful, but your heart is not in it,” he said. “Does it not matter if I kill you? Do you not care if I take over your church?” After no answer, the man delved into the girl’s mind.

This church is not mine to call my own, it does not matter whether I live or die.

The man looked deep into the girl’s eyes and found nothing, her mind was open to him and yet at the same time remained carefully guarded. His search came to a halt as the bells began their solemn toll once more. Devil’s Hour was nearing its end, it was time for the city’s other inhabitants to find shelter as the rest of the city would soon be stirring from their slumber.

The man looked down at the girl, his hand still gripping her frail arm. The church would not take her back now that she had failed to bait him. Without another thought, he walked away, taking the girl with him. She did not protest, but let herself be dragged off into the rain.