Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Prayers of the Fallen ❯ The Lady ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter 7:

She stood in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. The mirror in question was full-length and on the back of the closet door. She had been standing there, staring at her reflection for nearly an hour and she didn't really know why.

When she looked at herself, she saw a girl of average height, thin but not starved looking; nearly white creamy skin and raven black hair that fell in loose natural curls down her back. Average one could say. That's what made her so angry. She wasn't average. Not in the slightest sense of the word. No, inside she was...she was nothing short of freakish. Even before Esset had gotten their filthy hands on her, she hadn't been normal. No, she'd always been different, and even before the change as well. Being orphaned at a young age can have that sort of an affect on a child. She'd been diagnosed 'mentally unstable', they said. Some even going so far as to say she was borderline bipolar, because her mood swings could become very extreme at times.

Well you try and have a normal life after watching your parents burn to death, she thought.

But it had all gone from bad to worse. Esset must have sensed the bad blood in her when they picked her off the streets, having run away from the orphanage. Not only was she an orphan with no one to ask questions if she disappeared, but she was a freak as well. It was not long after she turned sixteen that the changes started. The Esset scientists, her caretakers and teachers all started to note changes in her behavior, thinking that maybe her mental inbalance was becoming a problem, but then the symptoms started to show themselves. She couldn't take sunlight without dark glasses on, otherwise the whites of her eyes would turn an unnatural red, like a rash, and she was either hungry or thirsty all the time, drinking numerous amounts of water, milk, whatever she could get her hands on. And then her senses picked up. At first it went unnoticed because she had been trained to use her senses to the best of their abilities, but then it seemed almost supernatural. She could hear things things that the human ear was never meant to hear without machanical aid. She could hear people's heartbeats, hear their blood move in their veins. And the smells! She could smell things from great distances and especailly things that normal people couldn't; like death, age, disease...and blood.

At first the scientists thought that she had porphyria; a rare genetic diorder that was hereditary. It caused accute sensitivity to sunlight, but all the other symptoms Eve had displayed argued the contrary. Eventually they came up with the obsurd, yet undiniably real answer. Its name was sanguinaria; cult title being 'vampirism'. Rediculous really, it had to have been a joke, but after testing their suspicions, those damned Esset fools had proven that it was undoubtedly true.

So, I'm a vampire. Great. Not that my life didn't already suck.

She had to admit though, it did explain her fascination with blood, maybe even her sadistic and narscasistic tendencies. But it had from the very beginning been a burden. And she could feel it rising again. The Beast, as she liked to call it. The side of her that all of her negative emotions came though to the world. She was rising, this beast-woman, this Lady of Death. Yes, she very much beginning to like the title Farfarello had given her. Lady Death. An angel on black wings come to take all from this nightmare.

Eve smiled to herself as the words formed in her head. Yes, Lady Death I am.

***

"Did anyone else notice that there are dead animals all over the neighborhood?" Schuldig questioned with slight disgust at remembered the mangled bodies. "I mean, heads, hearts, throats all ripped out and the bodies seemingly deflated, like they were drained." he muttered to himself. Once again shuttereing slightly at the thought of the slaughtered creatures.

Crawford, who had been sittling casually in an arm chair reading the daily newspaper, lifting an eyebrow over the paper's edge. "Really." he said half-heartedly.

"Ya, it's quite disgusting." Schuldig responded.

"Who would do such a thing? And to animals?" Nagi asked, disgusted at the act itself, for he himself had not seen the corpses.

"Don't know. Probably some occultist sicko." The fiery German spat, scowling at the unbidden images burned in his mind.

***

A vampire. Very strange indeed. To think that such a thing existed in this reality. This girl would prove to be quite interesting to have around indeed. She's really quite the specimen too, being gifted with so many abiltites, if a gift was really what you could call them.

He was suddenly glad that he didn't himself possess psychic powers, though he was able to talk through his mind to the others, but only curtesy of the German's telepathy. He'd seen what stress it could put someone through. Crawford seemed a little worn out after every vision he beheld, and he'd been told by Schuldig many a time that telepathy wasn't all roses and honey all of the time. No, he was grateful he asn't given that curse, he was having a time enough dealing with his own.

This girl, she had admitted her fear to him, the fear she had of herself, of her thirst. How curious that one would be afraid of themself.

He picked at the bandages on his left forearm as he walked drudgingly slow towards his room at the end of the hall. He let his eyes roam over the puckered flesh, trying to heal itself, the scabs red and cracked. He passed his fingers almost lovingly over the marks. His small triumphs against the Father; the ultimate vandalism against God. He smiled to himself. Yes, it had been worth it.

Upon approaching his door, Farfarello noticed a piece of paper had been taped to his door. Strange. Nothing like this has ever happened before. He ripped it off of the wood and held it to his one good eye to inspect it. There was a small message on it.

'Farfarello means 'evil ghost'. Think about that. ~ Lady Death'

A growl rose up in his throat. How confident she was, and fearless, to leave something like this to provoke him. But for some reason, he didn't feel angry or provoked in any way. Only further intrigued.