What’s More Terror than Innocence

  When was the last time she had played like this? Right back in her favorite playroom with her favorite toys. Watching the big strong hero beat up the bastards in the wrong. Because she was always right, always nice. If they couldn’t understand that, then that must be because they are all villains. Stains that she should remove for the betterment of them all.

  ?“Did nobody understand me? I do believe we speak the same language.”

  ?Beside her, large creatures appeared. Her safety, her solution. The only one she could trust among a bunch of liars and people wishing to use her. She truly did detest them, the world would be so much better without them.

  ?“Wreak havoc.”

  ?Watching the creatures run amok, she stood completely still. She didn’t try to stop the bleeding, this was her punishment for daring to trust. For believing that somebody would ever truly show her love.

  ?Watching silently as the familiars tore through any obstacle, flesh or metal included, she felt empty. It didn’t make her any happier watching these ungrateful people be slaughtered. Was that the lesson for her? That no matter what happens, she will never achieve that happy ending she wants?

  ?“How infuriating…”

  ?The word fell out of her mouth before she could stop it. Because the truth remained. the world only looked at her as a child lashing out. Not an individual, not a person, only a child. A powerful child throwing a tantrum. Was that why she was tearing up? Of course not, she was strong. She was perfect, the one always trying to please others, a child deserving of happiness… So why were tears falling? Why was crying?

  ?When the sounds of agony stopped, she looked up. Maybe after all this was done, she could take care of the injustice plaguing her. Yet nobody had died. They were in agony, some, and they were hurting, at least most of them were. But the death count was far too low. She knew nobody here could have done this, maybe a few if they could cooperate, but all of them? The thought was almost as ludicrous as her own sadness.

  ?Looking around, she saw the holes in the familiars as they dissipated, and instantly recognized them. Looking over, she saw Blade running towards them, and multiple feelings brewed within her. Maybe he was special as the source of both her pain and relief. The only one who had shown her true love, and yet betrayed that love and her. Wiping the blood from her forehead which had already stained her hair, she created more familiars, sending them towards Blade.

  ?Why him? Why was it always him? She had feelings too, she also had an unwell past. So why was it always all given to Blade? She didn’t care if it was unreasonable, but to her, Blade was the source of all the injustice, and as someone who only needed an outlet, was that enough.

  ?Jealousy twisted the souls of the familiars. Alchemy gave them more. A mutation given from a genius who only now regained herself.

  ?Watching him with steady eyes, she watched them ravage towards him, only for Blade to cut them down, flawlessly. Watching him weave in between them, cutting them down, what a weird feeling it created.

  ?With a wave of a hand, she created bird familiars and sent them off, as they shot blasts of mora towards Blade. It only stagnated him for a moment before he caught on, creating weapons and shooting them towards the birds, watching them fall.

  ?She expected as much. She knew he wasn’t weak. She only wished he knew more about her, cared more. No, no, no. She was derailing.

  She didn’t care what he thought, because he had forsaken her. Yet it still bothered her. Why wasn’t he talking? Why hadn’t he said anything?

  ?“Speak, damnit!”

  ?It was only adding fuel to the fire, his quietness. As if she wasn’t worth talking to, as if she wasn’t even there fighting him now.

  ?“Look at me!”

  ?She said, lashing out as more mutated familiars rose from the ground. She didn’t care about this body’s inexperience in using this much mora at once, or the obvious way she was wasting it. He wouldn’t harm her either way. No matter how many stupid weapons he shot, or how much he dodged and fought. He couldn’t kill her.

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  ?Using that knowledge, she continued attacking him, making sure he didn’t come too close. She didn’t trust what could happen if he did. Blade had begun creating hundreds of weapons around him, launching them at anything that kept itself afar, so he could more easily focus on what was getting close.

  ?Creating chain-formed familiars, they bound Blade, keeping him still so the rest could attack. Familiars of all kinds, from golems to mutated animal-like figures.

  ?Making the blades launch against the ones binding him, he easily rid himself of his bindings, before taking care of the familiars.

  ?Why, why, why? Why did he have to have so much mora? Why did he have to be good at fighting? Why didn’t he say anything?

  ?“Look at me! Damnit, just notice me!”

  ?And he did. For a split second their eyes met. Maybe that was the first time she had actually felt fear. Or maybe was it despair? The blood ran from her cheek, a hand slowly, shakily rising to touch it. Warm yet so cold. Was this her blood?

  ?Nothing else mattered in that second. Not the previous wound, not the feeling of injustice, not even the dead chimera she had been making. Because the fact stood. if she had made it manifest a second later, she would have lost her head. Blade, her brother… had tried to kill her.

  ?And to her, it was the last straw she needed. Suddenly, nothing else mattered, not even her own death.

  ?No longer trying to limit her mora usage, she tilted her head to the side, a lifeless smile splayed over her face.

  ?Why not just kill everyone? It would be far more useful. Far more perfect.

  ?Creating greater abominations with her Authority and using much more mora.

  ?“What is it!? Can’t talk to your failure of a sister?”

  ?She had freedom now, yet it didn’t matter. It felt shallow, everything felt shallow. These promises, these ideals, these bonds. Why? Why was it so that people broke them?

  ?It reminded her of the time she was playing in her room. Her parents had congratulated her for her well-done job, just like they expected from their daughter. And for her birthday, they brought her a friend. A weak-willed, timid girl named May, the opposite of Aisha, yet someone who would keep her further chained. By giving her a friend, they could easier chain her down, keeping her subservient to make sure she could see her friend again, and all of it without forcing their control. This was natural, a way to worm their way into both her mind and soul, but also her heart.

  ?The image would forever be burned into her mind. Her first failure. Her only failure. It was small, grueling, pathetic. And it was all forcefully etched into her with fire. Because it was her fault, she should have been better.

  ?Letting the innocent people go as they weren’t her target? Her fault.

  ?Not immediately killing any witnesses? Her fault.

  ?Waiting to make sure every target was dead instead of simply killing everyone there? Her fault.

  ?It was always her fault, everything was her fault. Because she was imperfect. If only she did better, maybe May would have lived. No, she would have died, because of Aisha’s stupidity. It was silly, ridiculous. Why did she one day ever feel the need to ask? She shouldn’t have wanted more. Should have been satisfied with what she had, yet she asked. Asked to see May before she left for her next mission. A silly wish. May was never meant to become a friend, only a reward they could use when they didn’t need her, and she had dared ask for it.

  ?Yet they had been good, they had given her a last sight of May. The very last. Forcing her to watch as she was cut. Limb for limb, and she had to use her power to keep her intact. To make her feel her limbs even after they were torn. All so the suffering would be prolonged. When her limbs were off, it was time for the peeling. Getting a surgeon to take her skin off, slowly, so loudly.

  ?Lastly, they cooked her. It wasn’t fast, but slow. So very slow. The heat was low, to where you could feel it was hot and do nothing about it. Eventually, they would increase it, but only by a bit. Each increase took its time. Until eventually, they finally let her die. At this point, Aisha had already been broken, and learned to never fail again. Yet her punishment wasn’t done. Trapped in the same metal box this all had happened, it became her new room.

  ?And for her first month, was the newly roasted flesh her only food.

  ?She starved for a month, and was beaten for it. But not because she was starving herself. They couldn’t care less about her health or problems. She was beat because her starvation was making her mission take longer, and that was unacceptable.

  ?Eventually, they removed the flesh, only because the smell was seeping out the holes in the box. Yet everything else remained. The sights, the fear, the feelings. Maybe that was when her own twistedness began. Maybe a coping mechanism from her brain, but one day she began loving her parents, only satisfied when they loved her back. Yet she had never known what love was, and so any gesture, any action, no matter how revolting, self-deprecating or wrong, both morally and legally. Because to her, it was the one, tiny, speck of a strand she could cling to, keeping herself some form of sane, even if that sanity was far beyond any insanity or delusion.

  ?She no longer stood. No longer feeling the strength in her legs to continue. She just wanted it to end.

  ?“... Kill me… please…”

  ?It was no longer a plea. It was beneath even that. Not a prayer or command, order or task. A wish, the one and only thing she could still ask for, because she deserved nothing more. Not a brother, not a family… and not Blade.