Chrono Crusade Fan Fiction ❯ Hell Hath No Fury ❯ Chpt 2: Mind Games ( Chapter 3 )

Rosette Christopher pulled the car up and parked it at The Order. Lights off, parking break on, door locked. She ticked the list off in her head. She could hardly remember the last time she had wrecked a car. While never one to waste any time, she had stopped hurrying quite like she used to. Needless to say, Sister Kate was hardly upset at strain this took off the Order's finances.

 

As she and Chrono walked back towards the Order, she ignored the many worried looks her partner was throwing her way. No, she was not quite as oblivious as Chrono thought she was. It wasn't that she didn't see the looks he gave her. She just chose to let him think she didn't. If he knew that she knew about them, the only practical options would be a beating, or a long in depth conversation.

 

At that very moment, Rosette Christopher didn't like either of those options. So she walked, and she kept her silence. When passing Elder's hut, Chrono veered off and began to head towards the door. After a few steps he turned on his heel.

 

“Hey-” he began, but Rosette was already gone, striding quickly across the grass. He had just wanted to wish her a goodnight, sweet dreams, too look into her eyes and reassure himself that things were alright. But she wasn't going to give him that. And she wasn't going to let him take it.

 

 

Rosette closed her eyes, feet pounding the grass, rushing quickly away from Chrono. She knew he would want to wish her a good night. He always did. But she couldn't take the look she knew she would get from him. She could hear it in the questions she asked him when he found her gruesome handiwork, she could hear it in the strained silence that remained unbroken throughout the drive home.

 

She had had enough for one evening.

 

The assignment had been ordinary. So ordinary as to be beyond ordinary. She had gone into the house chuckling. It was cliché and perfect. Through the unhinged doorway, up the creaky stairs. Dodge a few roaches, duck a few spider webs. She even saw the room she knew the spirit to be in. A smirk on her face, she approached the door and reached for a crucifix. Time to get this over with, go home, and sleep.

 

Stepping through the threshold she saw her target. Shiny, ghostly, the size of your average human male, it shimmered slightly at her disturbance. But other than floating towards the middle of the room, there was no sign of aggression whatsoever. And even the exorcist, who had spent countless hours destroying the spiritual, paused.

 

Her job was to destroy evil, in the name of God. But just because there was a ghost doesn't mean it was malicious. Poltergeists were exercised because they tended to be public nuisances, but to exercise a calm, peaceful spirit....

 

Rosette didn't like killing things that didn't put up a fight.

 

'Rosette...'

 

The word intruded on her musings. It was calling to her. She tucked her crucifix away and narrowed her eyes.

 

'Rosette, I'm so pleased that you're here... I've missed you....'

Rosette looked at where the spirits face would be, and began to see it take shape, take form. Morphing slowly, shifting, swirling. Eyes, nose, lips, ears came into focus just long enough to be seen and shifted again, growing taller and shorter in alternating waves. With newly formed legs, the spirit walked towards her.

 

'I was beginning to think you would never come see me.'

 

“I have,” she began. She wanted answers and she knew she wasn't going to get them standing there, threateningly grasping her gun. She didn't want to kill him yet. She had to know first. “Now who I am talking to.”

 

The spirit stopped. In this proximity, Rosette could see it was smaller than she was. The soft astral glow falling as bangs across its face.

 

It had a face now. A solid one that didn't morph or change. Those sweet innocent eyes, that happy smile, that face belonged to...

 

“JOSHUA!”

 

The spirit smiled warmly as Rosette took a step towards it, her mind racing with questions.

 

Joshua? Here? Like this? But why is he still here? How could God let this happen? Death was his release, right? Why wasn't he free?

 

“Joshua... what...how....”

 

But as the unanswered questions flitted through her mind, the spirit in front of her smiled again, a different smile. Cold, calculating, ruthless, it wasn't Joshua's smile. It was no longer Joshua. As if swept up by a wind, the energy of the spirit swirled and grew, until that hateful face was staring down at her. She could hear it laughing at her softly, chuckling.

 

Rosette began shaking, her hand clenching ever more tightly around her firearm.

 

'And here I thought you would be pleased to see your brother again. Really you should thank me. His actually body doesn't quite look so well now, I'm afraid. The dead rarely keep very well these days...'

 

*Bam*

 

The smoke was still pouring from Rosette's gun as she fired again, three times, four times.

 

The spirit staggered and fell backwards into the flying debris, the avatar grinning even as holy bullets five six and seven blew him apart. Wordlessly, he still laughed.

 

'Your anger, child. It's delicious.'

 

In one quick move, Rosette loaded Gospel. Stepping up to the fallen spirit, she looked down, surveying this... mask. Destroying his avatar would not even set Aion back in whatever plans he was still trying to set into motion. She should save the fire power. The spiritual energy that had just been speaking to her was so close to obliterated. She should save the ammunition. She should get Chrono and have him survey the situation. She should tell Sister Kate and Father Remington.

 

With a soft click of the handgun's hammer, Rosette realized she should do a lot of things.

 

 

The car carrying the exorcists had just rounded the corner, it's lights fading slowly into the deepening night. Perched nonchalantly on a roof of a neighborhood house, a shadowy figure smiled and replayed the encounter again in his mind.

 

“Delicious indeed.”

 

She was everything that he had hoped for. Even Merari, elusive demon that he was, would be willing to put himself on the line for her.

 

Master of manipulating avatars, it was rare that anyone ever saw him face to face, or in fact even knew what he looked like. A new face, a new puppet of his own creation was at his disposal at whatever time he could desire. It was a talent that also proved very valuable when you needed someone to see only what you wanted them to.

 

His test had been flawless. He wanted to see just how much hate, how much anger could be contained in God's chosen. Rosette rose to his challenge without a hitch. She needed no coaxing. Merari chuckled to himself as he remembered how quickly she blasted the life out of his wispy puppet. No wonder Aion needed her. No wonder Aion desired her. And despite her ferocious hate of him, Aion, silver tongued devil that he was, would use that, twist it. Her emotions would get taken advantage of and the most blasphemous of sinners would have her for his use.

 

“Ah but she has so much more potential,” Merari mused out loud. He didn't quite have Aion's way with words, but the point Merari would argue to her would be much easier to convince her of. The irony of the situation was delicious. Merari would destroy Aion with the very thing he desired above all.

 

Rosette Christopher would make a fine weapon.