Elfen Lied Fan Fiction ❯ Angel of Massacre ❯ Amongst the Dead ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Elfen Lied. Elfen Lied belongs to Lynn Okamoto. However, all of the characters featured in this story are mine.

Summary: Elfen Lied has ended with Lucy’s death. But the story lives on so long as the Diclonius Virus spreads. This is the story of Michael Mordare, the first Diclonius born in America. And more importantly, this is the story of the first male Diclonius born outside of captivity. This is the story of Michael’s decent into madness, and the beginning of Samael.

Warnings: This is rated T for bad language, intense dark themes, and gruesome murders.

Author’s Notes: In Jewish theology the archangel Michael fought the demon Samael during Lucifer’s ultimate rebellion. When GOD casted all of the traitors out of Heaven, Samael tried to drag St. Michael into Hell by holding onto his wings. GOD intervened and saved Michael from Hell.

Except this isn’t Heaven and GOD is not here to save Michael. Who will save Michael Mordare from Hell except for Samael himself?

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An gel of Massacre

Chapter Six: Amongst the Dead

I was in so much pain that my mind was on the verge of going into shock. The bastard above me was about to pull the trigger and splatter my brains across the ground. I couldn’t let that happen! I fought through the hastening horizon and squeezed my eyes shut. I did not see the soldier mouth the words good-bye mutherfucka. I drew all of my focus together and pierced through the blackening haze.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl.

I opened my mouth with a scream and from my open jaw exploded forth a single demon hand. I reached up to smother the pistol and heard a gun discharging directly before my face. The fated bullet impacted dead center of my hand, stopping it cold. The force of the round forced the hand to drop until it was pressing against my forehead. During the whole time the bullet was twirling in my palm like a deadly ballerina. It was so close I could feel the heat emanating off of its shell. Finally I opened my eyes and behold the bullet was hovering just above my brow. I discarded the shell and looked right at the soldier towering above me. He had a look of shock frozen on his broad face and I saw his gun hand trembling. A sneer developed on my face and I spoke callously.

“I’m not supposed to be able to use vectors- you called them- while in pain? Well I’m in a world of hurt right now and I can control these hands just fine.”

The lone soldier spoke fearfully, “It’s not supposed to be possible. It’s a genetic anomaly that occurs so rarely. The number of diclonius that can fight through pain is so few they’ve never even been able to verify how it happens!”

I snickered despite myself. Then the man swiftly leveled the pistol again. Before he could shoot I shoved two demon hands into the barrel of the gun. The instant he fired the gun exploded in his hand. I saw his right hand rip apart. He staggered backwards and held his bleeding mangled hand before his face, as though in disbelief. His first three fingers were snapped like twigs. If it wasn’t for the dark I would have seen bone poking through his fingers. The pain must have finally hit him because he began to scream uncontrollably.

“Are you saying that I’m a mutant among mutants? Isn’t that interesting?”

A number of hands came out from behind me and pushed me to my feet. I rose from the ground to a standing position like nosferatu Count Orlok. A single demon hand lanced out and slammed an open palm into the soldier’s chest. While reeling backwards his left hand swiped at his belt. Eleven arms appeared and overlapped each other to form a protective wall between me and him. What he grabbed wasn’t a gun and it didn’t look like a traditional grenade. It was a small silver canister with a grenade-like ring and handle. With his thumb he tore off the pin and flicked the handle before hurling it directly at me. He fell to the ground and rolled a distance away. For a moment my mind blanked and I could only stare in horror. The grenade sat in the grass for a full second before-

A deafening BANG and a blinding light brighter than anything I have ever seen discharged. The light was so bright that I could still see the grenade sitting in the patch of grass. The image had been burned into my retinas. I squeezed my eyes shut and slapped my hands over my eyes. My ears stung unbearably and I could not hear out of them. I gritted my teeth, expecting to feel a cold knife slitting across my throat. I was sightless and unable to hear. I couldn’t even tell if my demon hands were still active. After five seconds the image began to fade and a high-pitched ringing began to echo in my ears. This was good, that meant my ears weren’t damaged. That flash bang hadn’t been close enough to burst my eardrum.

I was so tired, so very tired. Life was such an ordeal and I was nowhere near its end. For a minute I stood with my eyes lightly closed and my hands lying at my feet. I was voluntarily completely defenseless. Perhaps I was hoping that the soldier would have a second gun. Perhaps I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to go on. No such luck.

I opened my eyes and the soldier was nowhere to be found. He chose escape instead of killing me, what a useless bastard. I was alone in the forest. I knew that because the slight pressure on my temple had resided. The only sound was that of the slumbering forest. I turned my gaze skyward and saw that the first rays of sunlight were inching across the sky. Was it daylight already? There I was, just standing there in the early morning frost when the thought first entered my head.

“Now what?”

For that I had no answer.

“What do you mean, you have no answer?”

I don’t know what to do. I don’t have a plan. I’m so tired.

“Then make a plan! Don’t give up, don’t ever give up!”

It would be easier, just giving up the ghost.

“If you surrender then you will die. Do you want to die? Is that it, huh?!”

I don’t… I don’t want to die yet. I have (had) so much to live for. But I’m so-

“Shut up and start moving. Just one step in front of the other. Don’t stop or you won’t be able to start again.”

It seems like I’ve got another addition to my mantra. Exhale and inhale, exhale and inhale, just one step in front of the other, that’s the way to survive.

“Go home.”

I knew I had to go home. I didn’t want to, but there were unanswered questions. I had to face my parents’ corpses. I once heard that if you face problems like these head on that you could avoid psychological problems later in life. But did I have a “later in life”? For that I had no answer.

And so I put one foot in front of the other. I don’t know how I was doing it. A thunderstorm of thoughts built up in my head and blotted out everything. I was merely wandering a preset path towards a place I once called home. The travel didn’t matter, the thoughts didn’t matter, nothing but answers mattered anymore. My heart was so heavy that my feet began to drag along the ground. It was so hard to think back. I couldn’t remember what Sarah Mordare’s voice sounded like. I couldn’t remember feeling Tony Mordare’s full embrace. All I knew was pain and grief and misery.

The unrelenting cold felt worse than ever, but my stomach had gone silent. I wasn’t hungry or full. I didn’t care anymore. I couldn’t feel a thing.

Then my dead stare lifted and I found myself standing in front of my house. The front door had been blasted off of its hinges and the doorframe had been replaced by a yawning hole. There were no lights on inside the house, so the hole was completely dark.

“Mom and Dad always hated electric bills.” I murmured to myself sadly.

How long would it be until someone noticed? Why had nobody already noticed? What if thieves had already molested the place I had once called home? What if this was an ambush? What if the bodies had already been moved, leaving me with no answers?

I couldn’t just stand there in the cold with these meaningless thoughts. And so I took my final step into home. The Darkness pressed in all around me like a thousand hands. For a second I was disoriented, caught unawares at the strange sensation in my stomach. Then I recognized it as longing. I was homesick even though I was inside my house. But this was no longer home to me.

I turned my head in the direction of the living room and found strangely artistic scene. Soft sunlight seeped in from a large window and illuminated the gore-laden living room. I saw everything was covered blood, it was everywhere. The walls were drenched in blood. On the ceiling was a large patch of brown, the color of blood exposed to oxygen and time. The carpet was beyond any hopes for repair there was so much blood soaked into it. Mother and Father had not moved from their ending embrace. How could they? They were dead.

My footsteps felt too heavy as I closed the gap between me and my parents. When I was finally standing above them, I dropped to my knees. I laid my hands on my father’s scholarly face and closed his eyes. Then I did the same for my mother. My hand brushed lightly against her soft face and found it to be cold. The feeling of longing doubled. I grasped the bottom of my mother’s sweatshirt and lifted it over her swollen belly. Her previously pregnant womb was sickeningly deflated like a ripped water balloon. The sight brought hot bile up my throat and I fought to swallow my misery. This was nothing compared to what I was going to do next.

“I don’t want to do this Mom, but I have to know. I’m sorry for desecrating your body but I have no choice.” I choked out quietly.

I placed both of my hands on Mom’s stomach. Then I summoned a single demon hand –or should I call them vectors? The vector hovered over her womb as I gathered my courage. Then it lowered and began to slice carefully into her stomach. To my surprise only a little blood leaked out from the wound. Her heart wasn’t beating anymore, so the blood wasn’t flowing.

Maybe it was a good thing, maybe it wasn’t. I slowly and deliberately took another vector and began to slice it wider. Suddenly an agonizing, burning pain tore through my stomach and I found myself heaving. No vomit expulsed from my mouth, I had nothing in my stomach to throw up. Finally the dry heaves subsided and I was just breathing hard. With nothing stopping me I went back to my filthy work. At last the womb lay open to the world.

Suddenly I was afraid to look inside. But I couldn’t give up, not now when I have gotten so far. A cold hand gripped my heart and I lifted up off my knees to peer inside. As soon as I saw the baby, my fears evaporated. Eagerness overwhelmed me and I reached in and lifted out the infant. The sunlight seemed to fill up the entire area with warmth.

I had a beautiful baby sister.

Tears began to run down my cheeks unbridled. She was so beautiful and so small. Her weight was almost nonexistent. Tiny fingers were curled up into even tinier fists. Her closed eyes and softly puffed cheeks were so peaceful that she may have been sleeping if it weren’t for the quarter sized hole in her chest.

Harsh sobs tore themselves out of my chest. I gently lowered the infantile corpse into my arms and began to rock my sister back and forth. How long had I been looking forward to this? And here I was at last, holding my baby sister in my arms. My greatest desire had finally been realized. Here she was at long last. She hasn’t even heard her name, I realized. I spoke softly.

“I’m here Theresa Donna Mordare. Your big brother is here.”

Her young blood began to soak into my shirt but I paid no attention. I was content to kneel here with my baby sister until time ended. I had dreamed of this moment so often. I was cooing at baby Theresa and rocking her in my arms while she giggled right back. Sarah Mordare was lying in a large couch and smiling so happily at Theresa and me. Tony was kneeling beside her with a Polaroid camera and he was taking pictures of the two of us. Baby Theresa reached up with a tiny hand and grasped my red hair in a petite fist. I was laughing and everyone began to laugh. We were all laughing and we were all crying and we are all dying.

My hand brushed Theresa’s cheek and trailed up to the top of her head. Two abnormally large horns stuck firmly out of her skull. She would have grown into the horns if she had been given the chance. It was hard to tell with all of the blood, but I could make out a patch of red hair growing on top of her head. This was the answer I had been searching for. This was the reason she had died. This was the reason we had all died. I know I am dead inside. I feel as dead as if that lone soldier had put a bullet in my head. We had all died because Theresa and I both bare horns.

It was so unfair. It wasn’t our fault we are different. We didn’t ask for this. Now that I think about it, would Theresa also have the same powers that I do? Probably so, I wasn’t the only one considering the way the soldiers were talking. They mentioned diclonius as though there were many instead of just one. Why did we have to die though? Was it because we are different or is it because we are more powerful? Are humans so despicable that they can’t stand the thought of something being more powerful than they are? Is that the reason Theresa Donna Mordare is dead?!

“Exactly.”

The boy from the theatre stood behind me. I reluctantly held Theresa out and put her back into Sarah’s womb. There was no point in putting her anywhere else. Then I turned around and looked up at the bandaged face of the boy. His single blue eye locked with my red eyes. Then he knelt down to my level and brought his face closer. I didn’t hate him anymore. He was the only person I had left, even if he didn’t have a physical form.

“This is the nature of humans. They kill everyone that is different. Wars are fought over insignificant details like skin color or beliefs. They certainly won’t overlook more obvious differences like ours.”

“Who- just who are you?” I pleaded hoarsely.

And with that the bandages began to unravel. All of the tightly woven dressings fell apart at some unheard command. When they were all on the ground I looked up into the face most familiar to me. It was like looking into a mirror except with a subtle discrepancy. He looked exactly like I did but there was something different that I could not put my finger on. Then I recalled an interesting article I read a while back.

A journalist had once asked a famous artist a question. The question was this, “Which face do you find hardest to draw?” After some consideration, the artist answered, “My own.”

“I’m you.”

The partially bandaged doppelganger rose to his feet and towered over me. It was so strange watching my own mouth contort to such a fearsome and crazed grin. My eyes on his face grew wide with excitement as he spoke. His voice was low and guttural and his words held a sharp edge.

“I’m the part of you that lust for bloodshed and violence. I’m the growing faction in your turmoiled mind that pushes you to kill endlessly.”

I couldn’t look away from the murderous mirror image standing in front of me. With my undivided attention, the boy continued his frightening sermon.

“I am the Darkness that descends on your sleeping thoughts like a cruel nightmare. I am the Voice that tells you to slaughter humans. I am your killer instincts.”

He knelt back down and brought his face within inches of mine. I felt a chill run down my spine.

“I am you.”

Finally the spell broke and I fell away. The figure in front of me did not disappear. A lump formed in my throat and I could hardly speak above a whisper.

“Are you the one that gave me my powers?”

He shook his head.

“These powers are nobody’s but your own.”

“So you can’t take these hands away?”

Another shake of the head. Now he spoke with a tone of urgency.

“It’s time to leave, you aren’t safe here. Take a good look around.”

I did just that without rising off the floor. Wiping leftover tears from my eyes cleared my vision and exposed the danger. Against the far wall was a small rectangular box with wires looping in and out of the case. I immediately recognized it as a C4 explosive. My eyes widened and I flung my gaze around the room. I spotted two more C4’s on different walls. No doubt there were more bombs planted throughout the house.

“Gather the bare essentials and leave this place post haste”

Now it was my turn to shake my head sadly. The boy glared angrily at me. I looked up at him with sorrowful eyes as I spoke. Hiccups broke my words.

“I don’t want to leave my parents. I- can’t- I just can’t do anything anymore. My- my life has been ruined and I…”

I sucked in a deep breath.

“I don’t want to go on.”

My double glared murderously at me and my eyes dropped to the floor. I didn’t see his mouth screw up into a twisted snarl.

“Then what was the purpose of leaving the forest?”

Speaking was easier by now. I didn’t feel hiccups interrupting me anymore.

“I escaped the woods so I could find answers. I wanted to know why this happened. Now I know it wasn’t my fault that everyone died.”

I looked up at him with rebellious eyes, daring him to challenge my suicidal decision. He took up that challenge and spoke spitefully in my face.

“Answers? Is that all you want? You don’t have all of the answers and you’re just giving up! Who was the man who killed your family? What are the diclonius and where are they? You can’t just die with such an insignificant existence!”

I gritted my teeth and fought the urge to scream back at him. I ultimately failed.

“So what! You said it yourself: humans are hostile to anyone different! This world is hostile to my kind! How can I fight that?! How can I move on?! I don’t need anything else! I don’t have anything else!”

Frustration and anger overwhelmed me for a second and I couldn’t speak. My hands had curled into fight fists and I was on the verge of breaking down. A cold hand landed softly on my right shoulder and I flinched away.

The hand remained firmly pressed down and I just trembled. Why was I so hated? I haven’t done anything wrong! God damn all humans and their despicable persecution! All I wanted was to live peacefully and they wouldn’t let me! I wasn’t going to hurt anyone! But it didn’t matter now, my peaceful life was over. I swallowed a scream and just sat there trembling in fury. Tears were treacherously balancing on my eyelids.

“This world has failed you. So change the world into my world.”

“But how?”

“By killing all of the humans.”

All of the sudden I felt calm. I could feel the power in his hand. What could hurt me if I had this power? I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. Mother and Father had sacrificed themselves to save me, was I just going to waste their gifts? Whoever it was that ordered the attack was obviously afraid of me and my power. Otherwise he wouldn’t have tried to kill me before my power had awakened. I was going to give him a damned good reason to be afraid!

I opened my eyes and saw the boy’s hand in front of me. I reached my hand out and had one last thought.

“I’m sorry Mother. I’m sorry Father.”

I grabbed his hand and he lifted me to my feet. All the problems in the world were the fault of humans. They didn’t deserve this oasis in space called Earth. Perhaps we, the diclonius, could do a better job. Nay, rats in a cage could have done a better job than the despicable humans. We are different, we can learn from our mistakes. Even more important, we can learn from human’s mistakes. It can work, it must work! I didn’t know it at that time, but I had slipped into the diclonius mindset. My life as a human was over; my reign as diclonius was just beginning.

However…

“I’ll live on, but we must agree on one thing.”

The boy stared at me with curious eyes.

“Michael Mordare died tonight.”

I could feel the boy smiling his cold and sadistic smile. I surged on.

“I want people, when they think of Michael Mordare, to think of a nice boy who died in a tragedy. I don’t want people to think of him as a terrorist or a murderer. I want to leave that much of a legacy behind.”

“I want to create a new persona for me to adopt. We will kill under this name and respond to nothing else. Even if someone says Michael Mordare we won’t acknowledge him. Michael is amongst the dead.”

The boy grinned from ear to ear with his shark-like smile. He knew what was coming as well as I did. I knew the perfect name. I had read about this mythical figure ages ago, but his name still stayed with me. I knew a vague background and the more I remembered the more the name seemed to fit. I could not think of a better name. I spoke with absolute conviction.

“From this day forth, we are Samael, the angel of death and massacre.”

The boy began to chuckle and I feel pleased myself. It was like my life was a jigsaw puzzle and I had found the final piece. All of the sudden I realized something important. My ribs weren’t hurting.

“That’s odd.” I said out loud, “My ribs should be broken or at least cracked. But they feel just fine.”

“Diclonius are built better than humans.” murmured the Voice.

Just how many powers did I possess? This was becoming interesting. I almost felt like laughing. Then I looked down at my parent’s corpses and the feeling died in my stomach. My former life was like the Garden of Eden I would never forget. There was no going back after this.

I didn’t have much time and I knew it. It was a wonder the C4 hadn’t gone off. I wasn’t going to walk over there and figure out how much time was left. I had to move fast.

With an unknown amount of time left I took off running around the house. I quickly confirmed my suspicion, there were more bombs around. I ignored them and found my first objective: a freaking coat! It was a dark azure jacket with a sweeping hood. It had red and yellow flames burning their way up the sides. It was my favorite jacket. More importantly, it was warmer than a light T-shirt.

The next thing was just an afterthought. I quickly tore up the stairs and entered the attic loft. There I found my brown wig. I remembered it falling off while I was in the attic haunted by gruesome visions. Damn, it felt like an eternity since that happened, but it probably hasn’t even been twelve hours! Time flies when you’re having fun and slows to a crawl when you’re being chased through a frigid forest through the entire night. I grabbed the wig because I wasn’t going to walk around outside with my hair and horns in plain sight.

The next thing was a small first aid kit. It was small enough for me to be able to fit it into my jacket pocket. It had bandages and dressings in it along with some medical alcohol. I wasn’t expecting many injuries, but it was never a bad thing to be prepared.

Finally I pilfered my father’s secret stash of cash. He kept it in a black box with a lock. A single vector snapped the cheap lock with ease and I began stuffing twenties and fifties into all of my pockets. I wasn’t guilty over stealing; it was going for a good cause. There was only one thing left.

I strode into the living room for the last time. Sitting on the floor where I had unconsciously dropped it was the high-tech helmet I had stolen. I knelt down and picked up the heavy thing and held it in my hands for a moment. The Voice spoke questioningly.

“Why are you carrying that helmet for? It will only slow you down.”

I peered into the electronic eye set on the front of the helmet. I saw a name etched into the side of the helm, T. STEER. I wondered what kind of person T. STEER would have been if he had never gotten into this mess. Then I dropped the thought and answered the hanging question.

“This helmet is my only way to find out who ordered the attack on my family. This isn’t some cheap piece of equipment bought just anywhere. If I can find out what company makes this I can force them to tell me who all is buying them. This is my only clue, even if it is pretty damn heavy.”

Now with everything I needed I started out the front door (what was left of it). Then I stopped and turned around. I walked over to my parents’ corpses and spoke, “I’m sorry that this happened to you guys. I loved you both so much that it feels like my heart is breaking. I swear that I’ll make them pay. I swear it on my life!”

All of the sudden I heard a shrill noise. I looked up at the source and found the C4 was beeping loudly! I cursed and took off toward the door as fast as I could. Two vectors reached out, grabbed each side of the doorway, and pulled me outside extremely fast. And not a moment too soon! The second I cleared the doorway a massive explosion ignited from inside the house. All of the windows were blown out and shimmering shards of glass rained down. Arms overlapping each other protected me from the hail. I staggered to my feet and stared at the tragic scene. The house that I’ve been living in for five years was going up in smoke. A rolling fireball burned in the center of the building and destroying every flammable object it could reach. Tongues of fire licked their way up to the second floor within seconds, making me think that perhaps gasoline was involved. By now all materialistic things I possessed were burning. My over-stuffed closet must be going up like a match, I thought grimly.

I didn’t care, that place wasn’t my home anymore. If home is where the heart is, then where is home when your heart was broken? It didn’t matter anymore.

I stood before the burning house and looked at my fingertips.

“When I said Michael has to die, I mean that he cannot be found alive. I have to get rid of everything that connects me to Michael. That means everything.”

I didn’t have the time to gather up courage so I just knelt down in front of a burning patch of dried grass. I held my fingertips above the fire before sticking them straight into the heart of the blaze. Agonizing pain so great tore up my arms and clawed at the back of my eyes. The heat was so intense that I could hardly stand it. I opened my mouth and let out a howl of pain, both inside and out. Vectors exploded from my back and flailed in the air as though joining me in my screaming. My cry was drowned out by the roaring fire but I could still feel all of the emotions draining out of me. The pain was so great that I nearly pulled my fingers out of the fire. But then I pushed on and held them in and watched as the flames permanently scarred my fingers. My prints would be erased forever. Even if I touched something with my fingers no investigation would be able to match my prints.

After an eternity of pain passed I pulled my ruined fingers out of the inferno. I breathed in and out through my nose. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I would scream again. Blood oozed out of the rippled scars. I felt the weight of the medical pack in my jacket pocket, but I couldn’t grab it. A hand extended from my back and fetched the pack. Soon the first aid kit was open on the grass and I had wrapped dressings and bandages all around my hand. I wasn’t afraid of an infection, but then again I wasn’t exactly a doctor. I considered the alcohol, but then I decided that the pain may knock me right out. I was already teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. I staggered to my feet and the world gave a dangerous spin. My vectors flung themselves on the ground and fought to keep me on my feet. If I wasn’t a genetic anomaly with the ability to use these powers through pain, I would have died twice over by now.

I half-dragged myself around the back of my former home and made my way back into the Forest of the Damned. Tony Mordare, Sarah Mordare, Theresa Mordare, and Michael Mordare were all amongst the dead. The only person left was Samael, the angel of massacre.

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End Chapter Six: Amongst the Dead

This was a difficult chapter to write, that’s for sure. I know I shouldn’t write really large chapters, and I’m hoping that this is the last one. This thing is about twice as long as a regular chapter! Thank God it’s out of the way so I can get into the real meat of the story. I suppose you can consider everything so far to be something of a detailed flashback.

The next chapter will be a special bonus chapter for everyone and it will introduce the other faction to this war. Just who is this mysterious Noah character, the man who ordered the death of an entire family? What are his goals and what will he do to reach them? This is a man without any sense of remorse, the most dangerous of them all. I plan on answering as many questions as I can in the next chapter, as well as add in a fantastic twist to this whole thing. You won’t know what hit you until you read every last line.

Next Chapter: Revelations