quiet, persistent, those calculated steps betrayed the rather ungraceful lanky walk that soon ceased beside a worn down vehicle; she was close, very close he could tell. pocket cat tilted his head aside, gently so, granting an opportunity for his nose and mouth to savor what faint scent she'd left behind. those slit like pupils hovered within the pool of glimmering yellow and lime, tracing over crackled cobblestone steps that diverted from the main street.

oh, how quaint. was she hiding inside the bookstore? was this supposed to be a reading lesson between the two? once anew his path was followed with slow footsteps climbing each step in a lazy manner, as if he was almost certain she wouldn't be getting all that far from his trajectory.

              despite her impressive stature, technical abilities & the strong, down-to-earth personality, abella deep down wasn't arrogant like many of the mechanics who worked for nil, being a stunningly humble & kind-hearted woman. everyone who knew abella back in oldegård loved her, let it be her parents, younger siblings or even the hometown soldiers. there wasn't a single soul which she wouldn't help & so when the third day of termina came, one can only imagine the devastating shock abella experienced when she found out that many of the people she once knew have either died or turned into horrific monstrosities, murdering, raping & devouring others without a slither of hesitation or thought.

the last thing she remembers is olivia's screams from within the depths of the museum, & then, running... running far away from those horrific wide eyes which even hours later she can still see, leering, burning right through her. ❛ no... no... ❜ the mechanic trembles while crouching, weaving fingers deep into her red locks of hair. ❛ olivia... ! no! god damn it! no, no, no! how did you even── ❜ the sudden creak of the front door & chiming of the bell however interrupt any & all thoughts, making abella's eyes snap wide open & quickly glance over the crooked counter in both confusion & dread. what she sees in that moment though defies every expectation possible. ❛ .... ?! ❜ is this... a man? a cat? no, wait, but those checkered pants...

. . .

' hmmm. ' he moves over to the suitcase, kneels aside it and inspects its rather mold covered case. hard to tell when it's been last used. ' ah, so this is why you've asked me to open the suitcase. it's covered in something even i can't tell what it is. ' daan cautiously snaps up the rust covered hinges with a single finger as if afraid of contracting an illness and their due snap ensues the release of a smell so foul that even a mortician would request for a vacation after inhaling that. for a moment he wretches, his forearm instinctively blocks his mouth and nose before the worst came to worst; so much effort to be rewarded with utter trash. an old flashlight, couple undergarments with unexplainable stains, all mingled with a fairly acceptable knife. why am i even doing this. . . his fingers pinch the hilt, any miniscule touch with the dirty garments causes the muscles to faintly convulse.

in the midst of all, the entrance door outside the living room can be heard bursting open. ensued angry shouts immediately blare out across the hall, they're searching, hunting and wouldn't stop at anything until they've had the intruders hanging on the town statue bleeding.

              abella can barely register what daan is saying before the door breaks down & all hell goes loose, sending a myriad of deranged screams through the crooked house like a ponderous wave. it is fast & deafening, similar to what the end of the world would sound like. abella immediately looks at the living-room door with a hitched breath, her hand holding the wrench quickly turning beat-red from the sheer force of her subconscious grip. to the only other person in the room, she must have looked absolutely terrified. a young woman frozen like a lamb by the messy desk, wide-eyed & breathless, seemingly unable to budge as the screams outside grow louder & louder along with the thundering slams of naked feet, only for her to suddenly move & instead of daan, she lunges straight at the massive closet near the door which just begins to open; a dark, blooded face of an old toothless woman with dirty wisps of hair & wide eyes emerging like a wraith from within the pitch black slit.

abella screams, & holding onto the sides of the closet, tilts the entire hefty thing to the side, effectively slamming the door shut just as the old woman screeches on top of her lungs & clenches her sickle-wielding hand outside that's now completely bent at an odd angle with a bloody bone sticking out. abella immediately steps back with a heaved breath, watching how the door resumes its horrifying rattle from whoever else is now banging against it, but now in vein. the door refuses to budge & she glances back at daan, quickly jogging up to the desk in order to grab her make-shift bag. ❛ okay, let's go. ❜ she returns to his side & despite the fact she just topped the whole massive closet all on her own, the mechanic proceeds to smash open the nearest window with her wrench, quickly cleaning all of the sharper pieces with a single sweep.

even astute practitioners can be rattled and her approach, no matter how docile, was far away from placing anyone's mind at ease. daan's sympathetic response was, in simple words, crude and raw; he immediately jolts away from the cushion whilst his hand seeks to grasp the frigid shrapnel's sleek body. his cold, calculative sight could easily pass for that of a surgeon ─ ready to carve.

he takes one long, very long, look prior to relenting any hostile behavior. “ well, what are the chances I get to find someone normal in here. . . ” he puts aside his surgical knife, never truly away. to know if she's trustworthy or not would take time, alas daan sighs while cracking the faintest of smiles. “ to more important things before introductions. ” he's swift in his foot work, took no more but seconds for him to stand aside her and finally close the door of the living room.

              abella isn't surprised to see daan's reaction, nor the fact he is carrying a literal scalpel around. he did vaguely introduce himself back at the supposed ' train station ' as a doctor &, considering how the whole village has gone mad, he would do well to arm himself along the way but, just the method in which he holds that scalpel. the sheer composure, elegance & almost bored-like mannerisms of the hand. abella can't help but to follow its movements, her amber eyes catching faint slants of light like gold coins in the dark. ❛ uh, right... ❜ something in her gut tells her to be careful, but that feeling gets immediately replaced by one of urgency once the villagers start banging on the door.

suddenly glancing back at his good eye & seconds before she turns in place to check the wooden cupboards, the young woman in overalls answers frankly, ❛ abella. ❜ then, the chaos ensues. to the tandem of loud groans, screams & tearing of wood, she almost pulls the drawers out from their hinges in a rush, her blood-red hair like a crimson veil dancing around her curvy frame. ❛ shit... shit... nothing... ❜ torn clothing pieces hit the bloodied floorboards, followed by rusted spoons, forks, plates & even rotten meat. one that definitely does not belong to an animal.

              to some, crows due to their high intelligence & capricious nature often represent a number of things such as wisdom or incoming change, but to people of oldegård, crows were said to be nothing short of an omen; a prelude to death. when abella first saw them flying along the windows of their train, she already knew something bad was going to happen but what she didn't realize at the time was just how bad things were going to get.

from the thick mist & looping train tracks, to screaming villagers & massacres in broad daylight. abella for the first time in her life relied on her wrench not to mend, but to viciously beat & kill. lord above knows that she mean to do it & when the old door creaked open in the dark corridor, she still didn't meant to, only for the pale fingers to tighten around the bloodied wrench. come on, come on abella, she thought, just make a big swing & ──

his sovereignty was under direct jeopardy. splendor so foul, beauty immortalized in unblemished flesh, that was her. our tyrant's perturbed gaze could not sever itself away. he is restless, the very skin permeated in a thin coat of cold; was he feeling fear? disquietude as the situation spiraled out of control?

for what he may lack in power, gortash is a man whose tongue wears glittering gold, able to sway even the dead from their everlasting slumber. ❝ i must say, a commendable display of power for an even more powerful name. ❞ & furthermore, he was never a fool. raising from his seat in order to applause, powerful hands suffused the gold plated audience chamber in booming claps, making up for the lack of audience to commemorate her arrival ( the very same she so kindly dispatched. )

❝ as you are already acquainted with my own, allow me to welcome you as an esteemed guest of mine. ❞ suave are his words, paving a road brimming with charm. he assumes he can approach her unannounced due to her bountiful ego.

her delicate hand was sought, captured & anchored up just so he could kiss its very back. those predatory eyes spared a conniving glance, drowning in what resplendent beauty her own emanated. ❝ how about we discuss this matter in better terms? i, for one, do not believe in thoughtless violence. ❞ her hand remained captive in his, whilst those lush lips remain inches apart from her skin.

              so polite & obedient, just like a little puppy trying hard to appease its new potential owner ── oh, how delightful! cagliostro wiggles about with her tome, the golden hardcover momentarily hiding away her smiling doll-like lips. ❛ awww... so you've heard of me... ~ ? ❜ flattering her long black lashes, the creator of alchemy continues to wiggle about with her frilly red skirt as he lays down a most gentle kiss, seemingly pleasing her with this subservient gesture; ❛ tee hee... ⋆ ~ perhaps you are not as pitiful & hopeless as you look! ❜

suddenly moving the tome away, cagliostro leans forward & rests it upon her lower back instead, now being mere inches away from gortash's face, ❛ okayyy... fine. fine. since you're so nice about it, i will honour your request & not turn you into a piece of decor! how does that sound? ❜ giggling softly ── as though having a perfectly normal conversation ── the young girl straightens up & removes her hand, only to hop over to his golden throne & take a seat on it. no shame, not even a slither of regard for the lord. cagliostro appears as happy as one can possibly be.

❛ now then... ~ ! ❜ she continues, casually crossing a leg over the other, ❛ do you have any cookies? muffins? cakes, perhaps? i want to have something sweet while we discuss in those ' better terms ' of yours. ~ ❜

❝ ── meet me tomorrow at 11:00 am by the golden theater, i'll be waiting. ❞ the beauty of her scripture holds an unnatural elegance to it, as if each word etched on paper wore their best attire. he must have read it all a dozen times, not once capable of reliving those faded memories. only her eyes burn through the haze, all whilst under nature's frosty touch; he yearns to meet the one who allowed his legacy to carry on, thank them in person.

a faint knock echoes off the nursery room's front door. denzel, a patrol guard who made part of the rescue team, stood at the entrance without so much an inkling of courage to disturb his captain's inner space. ❝ how are you feeling, sir? ❞ he genuinely asks with concern, gepard is, after all, his greatest aspiration within the force.

❝ i am feeling fine. ❞ gepard retorts defensively. his hands are quick to camouflage the note, letting its brittle body crumple mercilessly within his grasp. ❝ i will return to my duties by the town square, can you ensure that anyone stationed there is relieved before i arrive? ❞ his sky-kissed gaze adamantly swivels in denzel's direction, allowing a clear view of the vast sky reflecting off of them.

❝ but sir ── ❞ denzel quickly snaps in shock. he is both stressed & mortified, knowing all too well that any rash decisions could lead to further complications. just as he stepped in to debate, he felt his heart almost cease in its beat; those eyes were uniquely cold, as if a step closer could almost cost someone's career. ❝ y - yes ! r - right away sir ! ❞ he was gone, like most things held dear in belobog.

gepard's moist lips parted a sigh before he, too, made leave from the nurse's nest. any medical objections imposed were easily cast aside, all of it for that one meeting. it wouldn't be long now, & perhaps some curious buds of desire gnawing at the consciousness would be buried away from his daily focus.

              as the clock struck eleven, she appeared before him like a fever-dream: a beautiful young woman dressed in a elegant black suit & a buttoned-up shirt adorned with a tie, outlining the contours of her large breasts & swaying hips that make all the mortals stare when she passes through, weaving past their chattering crowd. a perfect image of a woman, a walking desire in flesh, but only in name ── for she is the devil coming to claim him.

❛ glad to see you are well, ❜ she says sweetly. ❛ i was worried about you, gepard-kun. ❜ walking up the stone steps, makima closes in & smiles at the anxious guard, her bright orange eyes burning into his own like branding dies. they do not even blink as they stare. ❛ my name is makima. it's a pleasure to have you. ~ ❜ nonchalantly retrieving a lone hand out of the pocket of her long black coat, makima holds it out for him to shake it ── humans are so easily startled, after all.

❝ i accept. . . ❞ his words are carried off wearily. ❝ your offer. ❞ her hand is tenderly captured by his own, dragged over just so it may rest atop his frigid cheek; warm, she warm like a distant summer's delight, despite the world's torrential hatred of snow against its inhabitants he could feel it seep into him.

to lose your freedom to death, or abscond it in order to carry on ── what difference did it r e a l l y make. for now, his drifting gaze, faded as a hazed glass pane, lost itself on counting the rings on her captivating eyes.

              the devil smiles softly, content. she is glad that the human is willing to submit to her whims so easily. ❛ very well then, gepard-kun. rest now & sleep, let your master take care of everything. by the time you wake again... your new life will begin. ❜ caressing his pale cheek, makima lowers further & with parting lips, drags her wicked tongue across his bloodstained lip ── a contract now forged ── the taste of servitude being ever so sweet, as always. she can never get enough of it. not even as the captain of the guard finally loses consciousness & others close in, even as they shout & raise their petty weapons, she smiles wide.

❛ you are mine, ❜ a softest whisper before the devil releases him back into the snow & slowly rises, letting the blizzard brush like an icy hand through her long red hair & black trench-coat as it billows wildly within the wind. ❛ i've kept him safe, ❜ she speaks in half-truths, ❛ please, take good care of him. ❜ without a word of explanation, the devil then turns away & begins to walk off into the vast field of snow & raging wind, eventually vanishing in plain sight.