Chrono Crusade Fan Fiction ❯ Hell Hath No Fury ❯ Chpt 8: Memories ( Chapter 10 )

Merari sat comfortably against the wall of the little shack that was the only marker of his property. He watched the tiny speck that was Chrono and Rosette disappear into the clouds. The two of them had decided the need for civilian clothes (of the proper era) was too much of necessity to wait on getting. Money being no object with Merari, as usual, he gave them more than would be needed and sent them on their way after breakfast.

 

Rosette being the only one who actually needed to eat, she insisted on making breakfast for them. Merari had fully stocked the kitchen in anticipation of this and took a great deal of pleasure in watching Rosette busy herself around the stove. It had been ages since anyone had used it.

 

Lighting a new cigarette with the butt of his old one, Merari let his mind wander.

 

 

Trista had always loved cooking. When she first revealed this tidbit of her personality to her partner and asked that a kitchen be put in their home, he had looked at her incredulously. The only things that needed to eat were humans and animals, none of which were ever really around them.

 

“But don't you enjoy eating?” She had asked him. He told her he supposed that he did.

 

“So do I.” She had replied, “And there's something about not needing to that just makes it all the more enjoyable. Everything tastes so good. Why not enjoy it?”

 

He had no been able to offer any argument to the contrary, so he had consented. He had planned on doing so anyway. He always gave her whatever she could want. This was mostly because she never abused the privilege of asking, and because he could never find it in his heart to tell her no. So she had her kitchen.

 

Taking another long drag on his cigarette, Merari allowed himself a wistful smile. He remembered how she insisted on making something, at least once, every day. And he insisted on watching her. If he was one to be compliant to her wishes, she had always been the same for his, if not more so. She had always said she enjoyed having him with her anyway.

 

Trista had been a busy body whenever she cooked anything, much like Rosette was. She would smile, laugh, and drag as much conversation out of the stoic demon as she could manage. His mostly monosyllabic and sometimes gruff replies only elicited wry grins and playful insults from her.

 

Merari sighed as he let himself fall more deeply into his memories.

 

She had been so beautiful. The first thing he always remembered about her were her amethyst eyes. Two bright, sparkling fixtures in her beautiful, pale face. Her lips, the color of one of her deep blushes, were almost always turned up in some kind of smile. She had so many of them, that they rarely left her expression. Sometimes he would spy her wandering aimlessly around the house, smiling at some stray thought that had crossed her imagination. Merari wiped a hand casually over his face as he remembered her hair, a deep, chestnut brown that had stayed swept up, away from her face, held in place by two slender, gracefully tapering horns. He always used to tell her regal she looked, with her bone-hued horns wrapping gently around the crown of her head. She would laugh and mention how annoying it was that it her hair was nearly impossible to pin up because of them. Merari had never minded. That just meant that he could run his fingers through it whenever she stepped within arms reach.

 

She had been so beautiful. She had been so gentle. She had been so kind.

 

She could be so terrifying.

 

Merari gave a sad smile as he remembered one of her more poignant displays of her rarely used powers. It had been a few years after she had insisted on allowing the younger demons she had known and grown so fond of to take up residence in their home. Actually, it had been a suspicion of Merari's that she would do that for some time. Trista had been overjoyed when he revealed that their home would include many spare rooms, for whatever use she saw fit.

 

She was infinitely playful and maternal to all of the young ones that had traipsed through their home. But one night, when a few of the young ones had decided to take their games outside, on the surface, they saw a side of her that had brought an end to any and all misbehaving in their household for months.

 

Sensing that young and underdeveloped demons were out in the open, a band of a few... less respectable demons decided to fly in for some sport. Trista had heard their cries from inside the under ground home, and rushed up to their aid. By the time Merari had surfaced to aid her, all he found were two young demons, huddling in the corner of the shack, and a mass of blood and gore in the yard. Merari couldn't even tell how many bodies there were, or would have been. Blood had soaked through most of Trista's clothing, and in her hands she clutched a bouquet of various, destroyed horns.

 

Flashing her dangerous eyes as she turned around, she fixed the young ones with a solemn stare. “Where is he.”

 

The two boys pointed to a spot a small distance from the bloody swath of earth to a tiny, crumpled form. Trista began to walk towards the space when Merari had commanded to two to go back inside, and followed her out. When he reached the spot where she had stopped, he froze for a beat before pulling her tightly to him. Apparently the young one had been trying to run away when the beasts had caught him. Merari closed his eyes as he willed himself to forget the image of the tiny, decapitated body, in the still growing pool of blood beneath it. He tried to assuage himself that at least it had been quick. The young boy's body was otherwise still perfect. He had felt little pain.

 

Trista began to shake gently in Merari's arms as he held her, and he knew that it was not from grief or helplessness. He tightened his grip and clenched his eyes closed as her scream of fury had cut the night in two.

 

“There was nothing you could do but what you did.” He had tried uselessly consoling her. Comfort had never been his strong point, but she had always understood and appreciated his words.

 

“Go inside with the little ones.” She had requested of him after a short moment of silence, her scream still echoing in his heart, even after it had died in the air. He had nodded, kissed the top of her head gently and left her there, as she wanted.

 

She came in the next morning tired, covered in dirt, and with newer, fresher blood staining her gruesome dress. He did not ask her where she went. He did not need to know. After she had stepped into the wash room, he went to retrieve her dress. There, laying quietly, innocently, were a small pair of lifeless horns.

 

Going to the surface, he had brought her clothing with him and burned it. The smell was overpowering, and he was sure it did more harm than just to the senses. As he watched the little fire reduce the last tangible reminder of the event to nothingness, he noticed a small mound a little ways off from the house. Merari decided to find a suitable marker for the tiny grave that very day. It would soothe her somewhat, and right then that was all that mattered.

 

After that event she had been quieter. She was still just as kind with all the children, and infinitely loving towards him as she had ever been. But the sparkle in her deep eyes had never been quite as brilliant. Little Tsato had been one of her favorites.

 

Merari supposed that was why, many years later, when Aion had come to her, she had been so willing to help.

 

The couple had been spending some time in San Francisco on holiday. Trista enjoyed the water, and it was nice every now and then to bring themselves back in contact with the world at large. Masquerading in their concealed forms, the two of them had been spending a quiet evening in their hotel room when a gentle knock sounded from the door.

 

Apparently Aion had been searching unsuccessfully for them, for Trista at least, for some time. Her reputation for dealing with demon young, both the docile and the less than tractable, was quite well known to him. He had been trying to seek her out to request her assistance with his rather... unique problem.

 

When he had at first explained the situation, they had both looked at him incredulously. The two of them most certainly did not approve of the course of action that he had taken with the young human boy called Joshua. Mixing the traits of a human and a demon in this manner was in no way natural, and Trista expressed her concern, telling him that it was no wonder things were not going well.

 

“I am surprised the poor thing isn't dead yet.” She had replied to Aion. Trista held no love for the white-haired demon that had addressed her. Yet despite the crime against nature that she felt he had committed, she still held a great deal of concern for the boy he spoke of.

 

Merari had often wondered since then if she would have been more or less concerned about his well being if Aion had revealed the complete truth about the boy to them.

 

In any case it had taken very little for Aion to convince her to at least come and assess the boy, to tell him, at the very least, what might be done for him. It was admittedly an unconventional case, but Aion had felt her expertise would be of more use than his.

 

When Trista had lain eyes on the boy, Merari could feel her heart break. Joshua had been despondent. The only reaction that had occurred when the troupe of demons entered was that the boy smiled softly and looked up at Aion. He did not even seem to register the fact that there had been any one else in the room.

 

Aion had not told Merari and Trista whose horns he had given the little human boy, but now, looking at him, Merari had a sinking feeling he knew who those intimidating horns belonged to. He would say nothing of it to Trista. Truth be known, she probably recognized them herself, but her concern was for the boy. Merari had no wish to bring up the subject of Chrono if she did not do so first. The idea that one of her favorite young ones could be dead would not sit well with her. He had no desire to inflict that extra degree of tension into an already tense situation.

 

Trista had asked if she could get close to the boy, and Aion had agreed. Joshua responded well to such physical proximity of the demoness. His apparent caretaker, Fiore, if Merari remembered her correctly, stayed a very good distance from all of them for the entire visit. The couple could hardly believe she ever really touched the boy. She was loyal, Merari could see. But her affection was... off? No, that was not the word. But there was something unconventional, sincere, but almost wrong. Merari couldn't place his finger on it.

 

In any case the boy (Merari supposed he could no longer really call him human) responded well to Trista's affections on him. Aion commented that he had never seen Joshua so stable, comfortable, and happy. He requested that Trista remain close by and visit as often as she wished.

 

In the changing times that he and Trista found themselves in, they also found that their home was empty of young ones. The ones that had lived there were grown now, and the new generation of young demons was just as caught up in the progress taking place around them as humanity was. They wanted to be out there, in it, a part of it. She never would have admitted it, but Merari knew that it broke Trista's heart. They had tried occasionally to have one of their own, but it never worked out, and after some time Merari had insisted they stop trying. Every failed pregnancy broke her a little more.

 

In light of all this, Trista accepted the offer with very little hesitation. She wasn't thinking rationally, he knew, but her desires caused him to think just as irrationally. It was not long before the two of them took up residence with the boy and Fiore in the beach side home. It had only been practical. Trista spent most all of her time with the boy, and hated to be away from him. After it had become clear just what Joshua had been, even before the addition of horns, Trista became violently protective and mothered him excessively.

 

It was during this time that Aion had approached Merari on doing his own part to help the cause. Aion had used Joshua as a bargaining point. The sooner the mission was carried out, the sooner the boy would be freed. It was obvious that Trista's attentions were only buying Joshua time. They had all thought, for awhile, that Joshua could be pulled through this difficult stage. But the power of the horns was overwhelming. Joshua was certainly lasting longer than a normal human would be able to, given the circumstances. His heaven-granted powers were indeed doing a fine job of keeping him stable, all things considered. But as time progressed it became obvious that they just weren't enough.

 

Aion had argued that with Merari's special “talent,” his mission would be much easier to accomplish. He needed to find people, and who better to man the search party than the master of avatars himself? Merari could search the streets of anywhere in the world, completely undetected by human or demon. It would speed the process immensely and soon all would be as it should.

 

He had only explained a little of the plan to Merari, and already Merari didn't like it. Aion needed to gather the apostles, and while for the life of him he couldn't imagine why, Merari didn't feel someone like Aion would be much good with all of the apostles gathered. Still, the only beings in the world Merari gave a damn about were Trista, and anyone she cared for. At the moment that left himself and Joshua. If it would help Joshua, Merari would lend his aid.

 

That was where things began to go horribly wrong. It indeed took Merari very little time to locate and deliver all of the apostles. But during this short period of time, when the two of them were out of the house, by themselves, Trista began expressing misgivings about Joshua. The longer she spent with the boy, the more she realized how cruel and unnatural what Aion had done was. It was not only inhuman, but it was slowly destroying the boy's heart. His memories were vague at very best. He was rarely lucid. Lately Trista had barely been able to avoid the boy's fits. The power was too much for him, and Trista feared that it had already destroyed much of the boy's mind and heart. If they waited for Aion's plan to see completion, there might have been nothing left of Joshua to save.

 

Day after day her concern grew, until the only thoughts that occupied her mind were some way to save him. It was not long after then that she had told him.

 

“I'm taking him away from here, Merari. I can't watch this anymore. I won't let him hurt like this. I've done what I can, but it hasn't been enough. This is the only thing I have left to do.”

 

The two of them formulated the best plan they could on short notice. Trista wanted to take him away immediately. That very moment.

 

As they had approached the house after their afternoon out, he asked her again if she was sure. She had only nodded her head. The Merari that had walked beside her into the house that afternoon was not the one that had walked out with her. She had insisted that Merari remain outside, and send an avatar in. “Just in case something should go wrong.” She said.

 

“If anything is going to go wrong, you are to be out here, with me.” He had said to her seriously. His only answer had been her sad smile. He cursed himself daily that that would be the last of her beautiful smiles he would ever see.

 

She was going to go in. She insisted on it. She would be the one to save the boy. It was her responsibility. She would not, she could not cower from it.

 

Trista had wrapped her arms around his lean frame, stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently. “See you soon.” Then, linking arms with his avatar, she strolled into the house.

 

It sent a knife through Merari's heart to continue the memory, but he forced himself. He would not forget this.

 

Everything had been well until she got to the boy. Taking his hands gently, she told him that they were going to go out.

 

“Where are you taking Lord Joshua?” a cold voice had interrupted. Fiore, in her ever vigilant guard, stood in the doorway.

 

“We are going out for the afternoon. He hasn't seen the city in weeks. It would do him good to be out around people again.”

 

“Lord Joshua is not to be around others right now. He is not well.” Fiore's tone was as unchanging as her stone-set eyes.

 

“He would be better were he out.” Trista had begun to take a step towards the doorway, with a less than lucid Joshua in tow. Merari's avatar followed, but kept silent. This was Trista's plan, and she would not forgive him if he in any way harmed the chances of its success.

 

“He will stay. Lord Aion has commanded it.”

 

This proclamation made Merari nervous. Aion had let the boy do as he please, and Trista and Merari along with him. For him to announce these restrictions meant that something was wrong.

 

“Aion is wrong, and we are leaving.” As Trista had begun to make her move towards the door, impossibly quick, Fiore brought her wicked staff to block the way. All sense if immobility gone, the deadly nursemaid lunged for Trista. With time for only one quick thought, Trista had shoved Joshua away from her and onto the floor. When she spun around to meet the onslaught, she realized, one moment after the spear had pierced her chest, that she was one moment too slow.

 

All semblance of safety or precaution gone, the true Merari, in full demon fury burst into the house. In one last effort, Trista had channeled all of the demonic energy she had left in her and blasted the murderous Fiore, full force. The expressionless woman was thrown clear of the room, through the kitchen, through the outer wall, and flat on her back on the sand. She was unconscious

 

Merari had rushed to Trista's side, knowing that he could take her, be gone from here. No one would follow. Aion had not really, truly, needed either of them. He could tend to her, care for her. She would live. She had to live.

 

But as he moved to pick her up, she looked to his eyes with a dulling purple gaze, and pleading with him, her hand on his cheek, with one word.

 

“Joshua”

 

She lay, fading in his arms, her blood pooling around her, staining his boots, his pants, his coat as he clutched her to him. Yes, he could save her. But she would never forgive him if he did.

 

Turning his head to hers, he gave her one, long, passionate kiss as her lips grew numb beneath his before laying her as gingerly as possible back on the ground.

 

Merari sprang over to Joshua and lashed an arm around him, running from the house. The boy, who had been in the beginning stages of a fit ever since he saw Trista skewered, now bordered on hysterics. Having found out in his workings with Aion just exactly whose horns Joshua possessed, Merari knew that this could not end well. Steeling his gaze and clenching his teeth, he decided that he didn't care.

 

Merari snapped open taut, angry wings, cradling Joshua as his feet rocketed off of the sand, only to find himself sprawled back on the beach, Joshua many feet away from him, rocking back and forth on his knees.

 

Looking above him, Merari saw what had happened. Aion hovered in the air, a few feet over him.

 

“You will not take what is mine.”

 

Head reeling from the unexpected blow, and unable to find any fathomable words for the demon who had brought about the death of his wife, Merari did not speak at all, he instead launched himself at Aion, a blood rage growing ever stronger behind his eyes.

 

As the two demons traded furious blows, the human boy on the beach began wailing, ever louder. Joshua was completely unaware of everything that was going on around him. All that he knew was that his comforter, his soothing presence was gone. And the only other calming figure he had in his life that he could remember was laying sprawled, motionless, on the sand. He screamed, and screamed again. His screams became ever louder as he tried so hard to drown out that agonizing “noise” that he heard again. That he could not rid himself of.

 

As the wind began to swirl around the boy, Merari finally took notice. He knew what was going to happen, though he never actually seen it. He knew what Chrono's horns were capable of. A fit of Joshua's right now, of this magnitude, could certainly kill Merari. But more importantly, they would most certainly kill the boy.

 

Hastily dealing another well placed blow to the self important son of a bitch who murdered his wife, Merari streaked down towards the beach. He would get Joshua away from here. He would take him far away, somewhere else. He would take him home.

 

But before Merari could reach him, he looked over his shoulder to see an angry blast of demon energy nipping at his heels. Swerving away at the last possible moment, before the deadly ball of light incinerated him, he dove head first into the soft sand.

 

Merari raised his eyes the moment Joshua met his death.

 

The energy had knifed through Joshua's forming cyclone. The moment it struck the young apostle, a nanosecond of silence was followed by an earth shattering explosion. Merari was thrown far off the beaches and into the water.

 

Merari had jumped from the water and flown as fast as he could, but by the time he returned to the sand, all he found was an unconscious Fiore, an unconscious Aion, and nothing but smoking flesh and cinders where Joshua had been.

 

Forcing the bile that had begun to rise in his throat back down to his stomach, he walked over and knelt in front of the charred pile that was the boy he had lost Trista trying to save.

 

With fury he had never imagined before beating around his brain, blinding him, he turned toward the treacherous demon who had caused it all. He would rip Aion's horns out and stab him through the heart with them. He would behead him and feed his self indulgent smile to whatever fish jumped the highest. He would burn the house and everything inside it.

 

He would have. But as he turned to exact his revenge, Aion was gone. Fiore remained sprawled on the ground. Dead, he now saw. But before Aion had left, he had taken her accursed necklace with him.

 

Unable to contain himself any longer, Merari dropped to his knees and vomited on the beach. Reaching over and grasping the only things left in the charred pile, Merari tucked the horns into his belt. He would have need of these.

 

He stood, and spread his wings, gazing once again at the carnage around him. A cold and infuriated composure fell over him as he glanced Trista's little feet laying outside the doorway. He couldn't sense her anymore. She was gone. Joshua, the boy she had so wanted to save was gone.

 

'He is better dead than at his service.' Was the only thought Merari could comfort himself with. He wanted to run to Trista's body. He wanted to cradle her lifeless form in his arms, he wanted to weep and sob with fury into her beautiful, chestnut hair. But he couldn't. If it took one step towards her, it would end him. For now he was in his blood rage. To see her like that would break him. He would end his own life simply to be with her again.

 

A cold and entirely mirthless smile twitched at the corners of his lips. She would yell at him for not avenging Joshua before he killed himself to be with her.

 

'Very well, dearest. Your wishes will be carried out. You have my word.' Merari had thought to himself as he turned his back to the scene and flew away. Now was not the time to grieve. Grieving would come after vengeance and death would come after execution. Aion would die. That was all that mattered.

 

 

Merari sighed and wiped away a stray tear that had escaped his vigil over them. Snubbing his cigarette butt with his fingers, as he always did, he threw it in the small pile that had accumulated next to him. He highly enjoyed this human habit nowadays. He wondered idly why more people did not.

 

He stood slowly and brushed his hands on the legs of his pants before heading back inside. There was still much work to be done.