Description: What would you do to survive? How low would you go, backed into a corner by something horrible, to live to see another day? The Devil of Koga can never resist easy, caged prey. And the monster has a score to settle with a certain jailed Ikari Warrior. What horrors does Fio see in the shadows of Thailand?
Thailand is a dark, forbidding place sometimes, as Fiolina Germi, Ikari Warrior, has learned in recent times. She'd intended to help people, save them -- save everyone, she'd told herself, save the world. Things don't always work out that way, though -- and a chance encounter with the Killer Bee gave Ms. Germi a harsh dose of reality, putting her right in the hands of Shadaloo... and in the worst situation she's ever been in.
She's been interrogated by goons twice now, since she was so much... less than forthcoming with answers to Cammy's questions after they'd fought. Her body has bruises and lumps beyond what the Killer Bee left on her, and she's tired. She hasn't slept in twenty hours now, and all in all, she's a wreck... but she hasn't given up. Every time she comes close to just spilling her guts about the 'woman' she mentioned, about her commander, about Ikari movements, she hears her father's voice again, telling her that the Germi line isn't going to end on such a sour note.
And so she waits in her cell, hoping that her comrades, old or new, will come, or that she'll finally find some choice opportunity to break herself out. It's a long shot, and she realizes that, but for someone like Fio, hope has that nasty habit of springing eternal.
At that point, she was in the worst situation she has ever been in.
The cell offers little in the way of hope. The dank, dark cell is only barely lit. Illuminated as an afterthought, mostly for the guards who endlessly patrol this cruel, rat-infested gulag. If there's one thing the Ikari never gets, its silence. If it isn't the endless chittering of the rats scurrying here and there throughout the dungeon-esque prison, its the flies and the mosquitos. Crawling through the small ventilation tubes looking for a cool, damp, rotting environment to lay their eggs and rest. Certainly, the atmosphere attracts such attention. The air is laiden with atrocious smells, open garbage and untreated sewage here and there.
But the worst part? Is the screams. The cries for help. The pleas for mercy. Unendingly the cell block echos with its piteous burden. Occasionally the sounds grow louder as more are brought in, occasionally growing quieter as inmates are weeded out to whatever fate awaits them within the door at the end of the hall.
The only thing for certain, is that nobody ever returns once they go through that door.
Thankfully, it seems that for once the rampaging sounds have died away a little. An unusual lull in the maddening cacophony of this prison. Even the insects and rodents are nowhere to be seen or heard for once..
..If only that was a good omen.
As Fio may eventually glance towards the bars of her prison towards the hall.. And realize she is no longer alone.
Its uncertain how long that shadowy woman has been there. Sitting calmly, quietly with one leg crossed over the other. Faintly illuminated by the weak lightbulb half-way down the hall. Black kimono arranged neatly upon her smooth, milky-white flesh. For all Fio knows.. she may have always been there. Simply waiting for the moment to make herself known.
Now, she is in the worst situation she's ever been in.
There's no silence -- never. It's why Fio barely sleeps since she ended up in this small slice of hell -- she sleeps so late under most circumstances because she can't sleep until it's /completely/ quiet or she's completely exhausted. It's a bad trait in a soldier, and an even worse one in a prisoner, especially in a prison like this. She's skirting exhaustion, but isn't quite there yet... and /now/, certainly, she can't sleep at all. Not with that woman in here.
Fio knows just who that woman is -- she's seen her before, and it was the most terrifying fight she'd ever had. With Vega, he just beat her -- with the demon woman, there was something more elementally terrifying about her situation, somehow. Something more disturbing, more cruel in her demeanor, beyond simple crushing blows.
"... I can see you," she chokes out, trying not to cry when she realizes the full extent of her situation, realizes just how /desperate/ things are. "What are you going to do to me? I'm... not going to talk -- they've already sent people in here to try to get me to. I'm not going to talk to you, either." She swallows hard, shifting away from the milky-white woman.
The shadowy woman's gaze is hidden behind those ebon bangs. Long-sleeves draped luxuriously over her lap in a supremely relaxed look as plush lips hold the most amused of smiles.
The ghoulish thing seems right at home here.
"Taaaalk.." The shadowy maiden draws the word out slowly. Her body utterly still within the silence, a void of life in a pit of despair, "..That's what you think this is about, child?"
At once, revealing the fact that she isn't here for information. Oh no.. Not at all. The Devil's services to Shadaloo are at an end, the contract of her employer has completed. She is, once more, a free agent. In fact, the only reason she's here is because the guards are scared stiff of telling her to leave. They know what happens to people who try to tell that woman what to do.
"My dear girl.. If you say not another word for the rest of your existance.. I would be content."
In a slow motion, the dark maiden begins to rise to her feet. Kimono arraying about her legs once more as she rises to her full, taller height. Every motion deliberate, every shift careful and precise.
And the Devil's veiled gaze never leaves the caged little bird for a moment.
That woman's eerie presence puts Fiolina instantly on her guard -- but she can barely move. She's a prisoner, she's tired, she's been beaten for information more than once... what can she do against this horrible creature, other than wait? The Devil draws closer, that gaze of hers pinning Fio better than any shackles or bindings could ever hope to. She's cornered, and unlike when the worst she could imagine happening to her was a few more bruises, there seems to be much more at stake.
She starts to shift uneasily, but that's all she does. The Devil of Koga has her right where she wants her -- Fio knows now how that schoolgirl she saved must have felt in the moments before Fio herself arrived, before she summoned up her own strength and called upon the guts and tenacity of another to rescue that poor young woman. It's rare that the young soldier feels this way, but she feels it now. And in spite of the fact that the woman claims she'd be content if Fio never spoke another word... Fio speaks anyway.
"Just what... what are you going to do to me?" She sounds afraid -- but still more resolute, less fearful than the dark woman with the milky skin might expect. Shaken resolve, after all, is still resolve.
Painted lips slowly pull back into a growing grin. The only reply to the shaken girl's fearful question.
The tall woman stands up to the bars of the prison, pausing inches away from the steel barricade. Perhaps the last measure of protection this Ikari has from the fell creature. For long, uncomfortable moments the shadowy one just stares. Motionless as the prison almost seems frozen in time. Soundless, lifeless.
The air grows notably more chill, vapors of the girl's breath beginning to form before her eyes as the damp prison atmosphere was already quite cold.
"How many would miss you?" The Devil whispers calmly. Voice soft.. but not comforting. A riddle in the dark, ".. How many tears would be shed? Until you're simply.. forgotten?"
Fio takes slow, even breaths, trying to steady herself as the Demon draws closer, stopping at the bars -- she needs to face this with the dignity a Germi would, if she can't face it with battlefield bravado. But when that question comes, she looks down a little -- only to have her eyes, now beginning to well with tears, meet the Devil another time.
She takes the question at face value, and begin to seriously think about it. How many /would/ miss her, she wonders. "Well... my family -- and the rest of the Ikari, too... my old unit, too -- and a few others..." she forces out, controlling her sobs back down with all the willpower she can muster. She has to face this straight-on. ... fortunately, she has something else to focus on, something with less emotional weight. "... Why is it so cold?"
"But you are.. Forgotten."
The Devil muses quietly in response.
Most frighteningly of all, as Fio looks back up from her brief downwards glance, the bars are no longer infront of the creature.. Now they stand behind her. Not an inch of cloth or hair is out of place, no sound was made. The only sensation is the breaking of a heart, tittering on the precipice.
"Your family.. your Ikari.. They've left you here, child.. Left you to die. Alone."
The ghoulish maiden's hand stretches forth from the depths of her sleeve, a slow, careful moment to place the tip of her finger just beneath the girl's chin. Lifelessly cool touching feverishly warm. "How does that make you feel?" Syllabant whispers
Sinuous whispers reaching the girl's ears, almost giving the sensation of cool breath pouring over her earlobe. The closer this beautifully monsterous woman gets, the more uneasy the air feels. Her touch enough to make skin crawl..
Fio knows her friends wouldn't leave her behind! She made a stupid decision to get in a tent with someone who turned out to be an enemy and now she's here, alone, because of it. At least -- that's what she tells herself, over and over, as that terrifying maiden places a hand on her. But... she's still here, still alone -- shouldn't someone have come for her by now?
"It's... it's scary," she admits. "Even when I was first deployed in Africa -- I was never alone, never captured like this. This is the first time, and..." She leans forward into that touch a little, letting everything cool her, bring her temperature more into normal ranges. "... why are you talking to me like this? I thought you were just going to -- to suck me dry, and then that'd be it..." The fact that the Devil is talking to her makes her wonder just /what/ she's dealing with -- this isn't what she thinks a monster is supposed to do. In a way, her presence is a little comforting -- even if she's creepy, she's someone to talk to, about more than just demands.
Any comfort that hand may have offered quickly ceases to exist as those cool, clammy fingers clench at the Ikari's throat.
A strong, unearthly grip as the ghostly maiden slowly forces the girl's head a little higher. Black bangs part themselves over the Devil's face as those golden eyes reveal themselves in all their wicked glory. That grin never fades, never waivers as she simply whispers, ".. Despair is one of my favorite meals."
The creature lowers her face yet closer, peering deeply through those eyes as black-slitted pupils switch between them in turn searchingly. "..If you entertain me.. You may live to see another day in this stinking cell.."
If there's one advantage Fiolina has, it's her ability to summon up defiance in the critical moment, bring all of her guts to bear in that last desperate second. Even as the ghost-like figure forces Fio up, even as her eyes widen in no small amount of fear, she forces herself to feel anything /but/ despair at the woman's words. "Grr... I /know/ they'll come for me!" she yells, even though she isn't sure she means it. "They've got to! I'm not despairing /just/ yet!"
However, survival instinct takes over after a second, and she adds -- with a small amount less force in her voice -- "... what do you mean by entertain you? What do you want me to do?!" That's it. That's a good girl. Just offer a little cooperation -- just enough to get by. After all -- what you're dealing with isn't a human being. That courage might not dissuade it.
A soft, metal whisper echos in the air. A blade gliding over silk, as a gleaming edge slowly rises before the Ikari's vision. A simple, razor-sharp kunai is held aloft by pale fingers.. Even as the opposite hand keeps its firm grip on the girl's throat.
The weapon is held an inch away from her face, between them both with a wordless menace. No ultimatums, no statements.
Simply letting the girl think about that blade for uncomfortable, silent moments. How much it will hurt, how much it could take away that will never come back. All of the horrible things the ghoul could do to her right now.
While inhuman eyes gleam, suggesting she's having those very same thoughts.
Fio has never been tough. She's been fast, careful, good with bandages, a hell of a shot -- but never tough. And knives are the worst -- they're worse than fists and clubs and guns. They're a different sort of pain -- and usually slower.
Fiolina swallows, looking at that gleaming edge. Is this where she's going to die -- alone, throat slit, terrified out of her wits? Is that what the Devil wants? No -- she said that she might survive. The girl can't know what's going to happen, but she can at least know that it won't kill her.
She swallows hard again, looking the terrifying ghoul in the eyes, as if to say, 'Do your worst -- I'm ready.'
Slowly, the blade turns about until the handle now faces the girl. A curious gesture, until the Devil sees fit to explain the rules of this game.
"Show me your heart, girl.. Show me what you are willing to do for freedom." The hand at her throat slowly draws down, gliding along her shoulder and arm until it reaches her wrist. The handle gently pressed to her palm.
"Feed me." The Devil states clearly. Her tone offered in the manner of a suggestion.. with a hint of a command beneath her words.
It takes a second for the full gravity of the Devil's words to really take hold on Fio. For everything to really sink in -- the ghostly woman is asking her, in slightly uncertain terms, to slit her wrist and offer some small part of herself in order to preserve the greater whole. To willingly injure herself, leave herself vulnerable, in hopes that she'll survive long enough for her friends to get there.
She's terrified by the thought. But... surviving long enough for her friends to get there is the most important thing in the world to her. Taking the knife in hand, she nods once. She remembers a story of an ancestor of hers, during the Renaissance, who was imprisoned for weeks -- but in the end, his regiment found him. Things worked out.
That doesn't make it hurt any less when she creates a small, clinical slit for the Devil. She knows the human body, knows field medicine -- it's too small to be fatal if tended to, even haphazardly, unless the Devil takes far more than her share. Fiolina offers it, weakly, saying nothing.
The Devil watches the girl with carefully, golden eyes monitoring her expressions with all the rapt attention one would give high theatre. Every hesitation, every trembling terror, every last reaction that crosses the girl's face is absorbed with sadistic glee.
And as that little, clinical cut is offered.. the Devil makes no movement. No reach or gesture beyond drifting her gaze to the wound then back to the girl's eyes. As if to question, 'Is that all?'
The tall ghoul waits patiently, letting the girl continue to butcher herself in the small hope that the creature will allow her to continue living for another night.
"Hardly more than a flesh-wound.. girl. Is this the depth of your courage?"
Fio may be scared, but she's not /stupid/, even under these desperate circumstances. She holds the kunai still, and keeps firm pressure on the small cut, looking at the ghoul with eyes still shining with the vibrance of life. The demon may have her scared, but not scared enough to butcher herself.
"Until I know just how you're going to fix it, until I'm sure that you're not going to kill me, and until I'm sure that you're not going to turn me into something else," Fiolina growls, "I'm not going to do you any more favors." There's a lump in her throat as she says it, but she knows that this is the only way she can even hope to survive in her condition. She trembles, but doesn't do much else.
In the movies, Fio thinks, this would be where Ralf busted down the door with a well-placed Galactica Phantom, or Marco would hack into the prison's keycard system and come in guns blazing, or... ... but then, she remembers that this isn't anything like the movies.
Ah. Defiance.
Such a pointless trait.
The Devil stares through the girl as she musters up the very courage the ghastly woman questioned moments ago. The amused expression hardly changing as that blurted, snarled retort hangs in there air silently for several painful moments.
"...Favor..?" Marise whispers.. slowly moving to the girl's side as she leans over to whisper closer to her ear, "..You believe.. I am asking you..?"
A cold, ruthless hand -grips- at her wrist and -twists- in a way that every last bone within her skin protests strongly. Bending her arm upwards and backwards, forcing her fingers to painfully point upwards in a gnarled gesture.
The whisper continues, "..This.. is mercy. Do you not know it when you feel it?.. Do you not comprehend it when it is given?..." A second sound of an unshealthing blade can be heard behind the girl.
"Do you think I had forgotten that encounter weeks ago? ... In the alleyway with your weapons?"
Slowly, the metallic edge of a familiar hatchet appears into the girl's view, held parallel to her shoulder just high enough to be seen, before pulled back behind her.
"Do you think I have forgiven your.. egregious assault on my person? That you stole my meal from me then?"
The sensation of cold, merciless steel briefly touching her wrist. Letting her feel the edge before pulling away.
"Do you know what the traditional punishment is for thieves.. girl?"
A sharp shriek escapes Fio's mouth as that wrist is wrenched at and that hatchet comes out -- she's going to die here, she realizes, if she doesn't cooperate. She might die even if she does, but she has to weigh the possibilities against one another. A possibility against a surety -- the possibility is a lot more attractive, right now.
Fiolina bites down on her tongue as the hatchet comes down, brushing against her now oh-so-sensitive wrist, and then back up. It's now or never -- she's going to lose that hand if she doesn't acquiesce. "Okay, okay!" she finally says, bringing the kunai up again, back to her hand. "I don't want you to take my hand, I don't want you to kill me..." A slightly larger gash, this time -- just /barely/ narrow enough that it won't kill her, even in the worst case scenario, if it's treated. "There!" she yells at this devil that torments her. "Drink! That's what you came for -- take it!"
Tears stream down her face one right after another now, but she doesn't sob. She keeps forcing herself not to. It's getting harder, and her entire body burns with the desire to just cry and resign herself, but the littlest spark keeps holding her up. Fiolina Germi won't fully give up until she's dead -- which right now may be more of a curse than a blessing.
The Ikari can almost feel that hatchet raised high. She can almost sense the cool steel, gleaming dimly in the poor prison lighting.. Ready to strike with a moment's notice and end her career forever.
For a moment.. the Devil nearly does it anyway.
But the embolded plea.. The quick tug and -stab- at her own hand. The tears streaming down her cheeks..
..The horrid creature relents.. Releasing her painful grip on the woman as she instead turns her about. Wrenching the slashed arm upwards with the other arm curled around her shoulders.
"What I came for.." The Devil finally deigns to inform her captive audience. Carefully lifting the wounded limb up to her lips as she savors the metallic aroma of the trickling liquid, "..Is parity." A long, too long crimson tongue slithers from her painted lips. Worming it's way along the incision, testing the quality of what she finds before recoiling the length past her smug lips, "..You cost me meal.. And now you give me one in turn."
To which the wicked creature carefully presses her lips to the cut, sealing the region with her parting mouth as her cheeks hollow with the pressure. The girl can all but feel the warmth slowly leaving her body, flowing from her arm and into this hellish woman..
It's enough to make Fio sick. Some part of her is leaving her now, entering this ghoul, this hellish /thing/ and feeding her. Part of her is disgusted that she'd give this thing a meal, let it live another day rather than sacrifice herself to starve it. But then -- if she died, wouldn't her blood be up for grabs -anyway-? It's hard to do the mental acrobatics that make this situation make sense.
That new, cold sensation disturbs her. What if she /does/ die? What if this creature takes too much from her and leaves her dead? ... then it had been an excellent life, Fio thinks. She'd done well -- even if this does mean the Germi line is going to end, isn't this how it /should/? On foreign soil, in a war? It's how every generation's lived, at least.
"... what, does this mean -- if I survive this, we're..." Fio hates thinking this way right now, but it's how she has to. "... even?" Her voice is a little weaker, and her expression is far less firm.
Sickening, horrible wet sounds fill the air as the ghoulish thing feeds at Fio's wrist. One hand firmly gripping the back of her own, with her other arm remaining tightly clutched around her shoulders. The ghost's grip feels all but inescapable, raising the terrible question of..
...If Marise was killing the girl, what could she even do about it?
Golden eyes transition between fluttering closed in delight to watching Fio's expressions closely.. her reactions and turmoil only adding to the feast's flavor as she continues to feed. Occasionally nibbling her sharp teeth at the wound to get it to flow a little more smoothly, tongue probing and coaxing the crimson life to flow.
The world continues to get heavier.. the Ikari was driven to exaustion from constant insomnia and torture, driven to the brink of sanity.. And this, pushes her to the very edge. She can all but feel her existence hanging by a thread..
...Until the Devil finally pulls away. Tilting her head back as she sighs contentedly, sanguine rivulets running along the corners of her lips and streaking along her ivory throat.
"...For now."
The hungry ghost concedes. With a half-hearted gesture, the Devil reaches forth to rip a strip of cloth from the girl's apparel. Idly dressing the wound to keep her from bleeding to death, as she DID live up to her half of the bargain.
At which point.. the creature simply discards her. Releasing her to let her collapse to the floor in a heap, tossed asside like a piece of refuse.
Fiolina squirms and twitches the whole time. She knows that she's put her fate in this woman's hands, but there's nothing that she can do about it now; whatever will be will be, she tells herself. Her life isn't really in danger /yet/, she keeps telling herself, she hasn't succumbed to blood loss /yet/, there's still a chance --
And she's rewarded for that last inch of hope when the Devil moves away. She gasps as if she's just come up from underwater, since she was holding her breath the entire time she was being fed upon; she's grateful for that one breath, though. The air is stagnant, but somehow it's the best breath of air she's ever taken. Everything about the world suddenly feels a little warmer -- though that might just be her significantly lowered body temperature.
The field dressing is excellent; Fio can tell that she's done this before. Her own would likely be a little better, if the tables were turned, but she isn't exactly in the best situation to complain -- a heap on the floor isn't exactly a position of power and majesty, after all. She groans, not getting up, lacking the strength. She doesn't address Marise, but does assure herself with quiet murmurs, "... It's okay... I'm all right... It's okay..."
"Keh heh ha.."
The Devil titters to herself underbreath. Calmly gliding her fingertips along her neck and the corners of her lips, collecting the errant crimson nectar and laping the flavor from them. Her inhuman gaze rests upon the sprawled girl for a moment longer.. Perhaps savoring the image.
However.. by the time Fio ever manages to look up, or find the strength of doing so, the ghost is no longer there. Returned to the darkness, leaving only that hollow feeling in her wake.
The sounds of flies and rats slowly, cautiously return in the wake of that monster.. Although the fellow prisoners in the block remain silent. Errily so..
However.. at least the Ikari lives another day..
Log created on 21:05:37 06/29/2007 by Marise, and last modified on 00:14:19 07/08/2007.