Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Bloody Hands ❯ Slipping ( Chapter 1 )

"Every finger in the room
is pointing at me
I wanna spit in their faces
then I get afraid of what that could bring."
---Tori Amos---

___________________________________________________________________________ ___________

Van tilted his head way back, facing the raining sky. He ran both of his hands through his hair and closed his garnet eyes. The rain soaked through his red vest.

"Mother Gaia, Father Sky...," he whispered, as if he could stop the Dragonslayers from hearing him if he said it quietly enough. "Forgive me. Please forgive me. Deliver me of this evil. Please deliver me."

"I've tried that before."

Van turned to face the shortest one, Chesta. He was alone, staring up at the rain as well. But he remained dry. He remained the way he had been when Van murdered him.

"Tried what?" Van asked absently. He was less afraid of this one. He was as terrifying as the others, but he never raised a hand to strike Van. Gentle and compassionate. That's what Chesta's file had said. Nevertheless, he was bitter.

" 'Deliver me'," Chesta said, repeating quietly after Van. He lowered his head and looked at Van with his dull gray irises.

"I've tried praying for deliverance. It didn't work."

There was a bitter sadness in his voice that sent a chill up Van's spine.

"I'm sorry," he said, though he hardly meant the words anymore. He'd said them many times, knowing it would never be enough to settle his spirit or the Dragonslayers' undead ones. "You would have killed me if I hadn't done it."

"Who's to say who should have died? I guess it was us who were supposed to go. I guess maybe I was praying at the wrong time." The little Dragonslayer smiled ruefully. Van almost wanted to put his arms around the boy, but of course, he didn't.

"I suppose everyone has a role to play," he continued, "You were the good guys and we were the bad guys."

Both of them suddenly wished that it really were that simple.

"Why are you here?" Van asked. He figured the conversation was casual enough. He felt like he could talk to this one.

"Where else do I have to go? Should I haunt my family?"

"You're not like the other ones."

Chesta scoffed. "I'm gentle," he said sarcastically. "Dilandau-sama said so. He said I was too gentle."

"Are you?"

"I was going to be a good soldier one day. I was just learning to put that gentleness away," Chesta replied. He averted his eyes to the ground. His face was so sad, but his eyes....they never betrayed any emotion.

"Dilandau-sama gave me a Guymelef," Chesta said. "I had a feeling I could be someone."

There was a long silence, broken by Van.

"I think maybe we could have been friends under different circumstances."

Chesta looked at him blankly. Van wished that the boy would convey some emotion. Any emotion. Even if it was hatred like the others.

"No," he said simply. He turned to walk away, and faded into the grayness of the dreary morning as he did so.

Van sighed.

So the little one was unfriendly.

"At least he didn't hit me," Van snickered.

Van took his seat at the Schezar table quietly. Celena sat in front of him. He stole a glance at her. She was sitting down, and as she did so, she revealed a solemn Dragonslayer standing behind her. Van stared at him. It was the longhaired one, the beautiful one. He looked sad, and older that he really was. They all looked much older than fifteen now. Dalet's eyelids hooded his empty brown eyes as he watched Celena sit down.

"Where is Dilandau-sama?" the Dragonslayer asked quietly. Van ignored him. He couldn't very well talk to them when other people were around. He stared at his breakfast.

"I don't understand. Where is my Dilandau-sama?"

His voice exploded from all directions, even though it was quiet, and came at Van from everywhere in the room at once, echoing, echoing, echoing. Echo. Echo.

Where is my Dilandau-sama?
Where is my Dilandau-sama?
is my Dilandau-sama?
my Dilandau-sama
Dilandau-sama

"Please go away," Van muttered under his breath while the others talked over him. He poked at the pancakes, scowling.

"Van?" Celena said suddenly, looking at him.

Van raised his head to look at her, and tried not to move his gaze a few inches upward to stare at the forlorn Dalet that was looking down at her so sullenly.

"Yes, Celena?"

"What happened to your face?"

This time Van looked up at the Dragonslayer standing behind Celena. Dalet's sad lips curled, ever so gradually, into a wolfish smirk as he slowly raised his head and looked at Van.

Celena stared at him with questioning blue eyes. Van turned to her, and then looked at the floor.

"I ran into the door frame," he lied, "I was trying to turn on the light...."

"Tell her what really happened, you pussy," Dalet whispered. Then his threw his head back, tossing his stringy black hair, opened his mouth wide, and laughed so loud that Van cringed, squinting one eye in a grimace.

Celena gave him and expression of half concern and amusement.

"Van?"

"I'm fine."

He reached up to brush his hair away from his face, and realized that his hands were covered in blood again.

"AAaaah!!!"

Van stood up so fast his chair banged on the marble dining room floor. Everyone on the long table fell silent and looked at him as the young king stared wide-eyed at his hands. Dalet left Celena's side, and walked around the table, with that hideous, shaky, frail walk. Van closed his eyes and backed against the wall for support. Dalet passed Gadeth, and Allen, making his way around the room.

"Crazy, crazy, crazy," Dalet said with a low, mocking tone. "They're thinking....'what the hell is wrong with Van-sama nowadays?' Did you hear me? That's what they're thinking."

Van felt his heart pounding.

Deliver me, deliver me, deliver me, deliver me, deliver me

"DID YOU HEAR ME, YOU BASTARD??!!" Dalet screamed, stopping abruptly behind Allen.

"GO AWAY!!!!!" Van roared.

Dalet chuckled, delighted that his mission was accomplished.

The whole dining room was so silent that Van's voice seemed ten times louder. They looked at him, fixed, scared, shocked, and shaken.

Dalet leaned against the wall adjacent to the one Van was pressing himself again. He tilted his head toward the ceiling, keeping his hooded eyes fixed on Van. He slid down the wall, shoulders quivering as he giggled. Somehow he was still seductive and beautiful, though Van hardly noticed.

"WHY??!" Van said, "...why are you doing this?"

Dalet's face turned suddenly serious. He stopped sliding down the wall and stood up.

"It's not my fault my blood is on your hands."

Echo.
my blood is on your hands
my blood is on your hands
blood is on your hands
on your hands
on your hands

He left the dining room, disappearing through the wall. He'd done what he came to do. The whole room was staring at Van, who was staring at his hands, which stared back at him, perfectly clean.

"Van!"

Allen's hands were clenching Van's shoulders, his blue eyes staring into Van's.

Van stared back, wide-eyed and confused.

"Tell me what to do...," Van whispered, clenching his teeth. "Allen....help me...."

Van went limp, magenta eyes rolling back in his head, falling into Allen's arms.

Though no one was there to hear, the Dragonslayers laughed.

Van woke up in his room. Celena was sitting by him on his bed, holding a wet cloth on his forehead.

Yes, that's right. A cold rag. That will make them go away.

Celena smiled at him.

"You're awake."

Van cut his eyes to the left, then to the right. He saw no sign of the Dragonslayers. He released a sigh of relief.

Celena frowned, blue eyes solemn with concern.

"Van, what's wrong? What makes you look so scared? I've never seen you look so scared, ever."

Even as Dilandau? Van felt like laughing. I'll bet you used to wish to see me this scared.

"I'm fine. Just a nightmare, that's all," Van said, forcing a smile that was supposed to be convincing but came off his lips looking rueful.
(it's your fucking dragonslayers, that's what it is)
'They're not hers anymore, and you know it. Please don't blame this on Celena. She has nothing to do with it.'
(they're hers)
'She's not responsible anymore. She's not the one to blame...'
(you are)

Van sat up, and didn't realize he was shaking.

"Van? Van? Why are you shaking like that, Van?" Celena's distant voice inquired frantically.

"Celena..."

"Oh Van...tell me what's wrong....tell me how to help you!"

She leaned forward and took the raven-haired boy in her arms.

"Please let me in. Please...tell me."

"Celena.... Oh god....Celena."

Van wondered why the Dragonslayers weren't interrupting.

'Ha. Maybe they don't know how to feel about this one.'
(maybe they....)

'Maybe they just don't know how to feel about this one....'

Van smiled, and let Celena hold him, gripping the rare, glorious, precious moment of peace for all it was worth.