Disclaimer: … disclaimed.
Warnings: Crack, blood, insanity. (Murder, death… you know, normal stuff)
A/N: Don't bother questioning me. While it can – by some miracle – be slotted into the Kamichama Karin chu storyline (if you try really, really hard), it's not pretty, so why would you associate this with it? Crack pairings are love, and the prologue doesn't make much sense. I am aware of that. Don't expect too much, I'm telling you now.
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'Til Death (shall you part…)
Case 00
can you hear it… a tune… endless… beautiful… mesmerising… you cannot know…
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She clawed desperately at the glass before her, but it was useless. Nothing – nothing – seemed to work and she couldn't escape, couldn't get out. And it hurt. It hurt so badly she just wanted to scream and sob, praying for someone – to God, to whatever higher being up there, anyone – to end the nightmare.
But there was no one to come to her rescue, and she knew it. The knowledge alone was enough to send her into another fit; but she was already aware that falling into hysterics would not help. Yet she couldn't ignore it, even if she closed her eyes and pretended that it wasn't happening (as if it was just some nightmare, where she would wake up at the last minute and find out it hadn't meant a thing).
That feeling; the sensation that she was slowly being crushed by some unseen force; she was being suffocated by everything. And, then, there was the unbearable knowledge that there was no way out. It never left her, as if it wanted to haunt her thoughts.
Why? She didn't even know why she was here. The darkness before her, that seemed to stretch off into nothingness; the gentle, rhythmic click that seemed to slowly penetrate her mind as it continued – on and on and on – endless, unfailing; the feeling that someone was slowly squeezing all the air out of her…
And she could feel the glass. Its cold surface – frosted? – impenetrable, no matter how hard she tried to break it. From what she knew, it was not like she had much space to move around in the first place.
It was cold, so cold she was afraid that it would eventually creep up to her: freeze her to death, with no saviour to prevent it. The smell that hovered around her and lingered in her mouth – in this small prison she seemed to be trapped in – sickened her, but she resisted the urge to throw up.
No, it wouldn't do. Not when the smell of blood already haunted her.
Why? What did I do?
Again, she tried to find her way out; and again, failed to make any progress. It was completely and utterly useless, and she just wanted to break down and cry. But her body felt too heavy for her, unlike her own, and she could only blink slowly, as she tried to make out what was in front of her.
There… there? Something, nothing, everything.
She couldn't think, couldn't speak – or scream, or sob or just talk – and nothing seemed to make sense. Nothing seemed important enough to care about.
In… and out… nothing… something… there… but not…
Silence.
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Click, click, click…
The sound echoed and fell into a constant cycle, one that made him frown; but not enough to try and make it stop. From the seated position, he had watched the young girl – an average-looking child, really – try to find her way out; clawing at the glass.
Her blood staining it with each failed attempt.
Slowly, she began to waver – he had been wondering how long this one would take before it was too much – and stopped struggling altogether. He watched as she slipped, further down, and seemed to crumple under her weight.
Eventually, he stood, leaned forward, and tapped the glass, fascinated with how his face reflected off the surface, stained with uneven streaks of blood.
Tap, click, click…
"Looks like you weren't compatible," he said. As the sentence lingered in the room, he turned to face the one other individual who was with him, "You know what to do. And leave no identifiable traces. Understood?"
They nodded.
"Go."
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Aside from the crickets that chirped around them, there was silence. The creatures of night went about their own business – in a kill or be-killed fashion – as night continued with no one there to see, hear, and bear witness. It did not seem to matter that, by the next day, the peaceful life would, very much, be shattered at an instant. It did not occur to them; they were not to know.
The body of a girl – cooling rapidly as a gentle breeze passed by – lay, exposed to the world. Her hands were intertwined – as if in prayer – and lay across her chest, eyes closed, as if asleep. Her black school uniform and pale skin was stained with blood, as was the concrete around her, but there was no one to see her. The stench of death surrounded the area, as night continued on.
On her ring finger, a ring – so beautifully detailed it did not look right with the rest of the picture – seemed to gleam in what little moonlight was present. Time continued, and day would soon approach, to start anew.
It was the beginning of a horrific nightmare, and no one knew when it would end.