Dark grey covered the skies. Lightning flashed after being foretold by the rumble of thunder. And, the hooded figure walked through a field of vibrant yellow flowers, watching them all wither and decay behind her. It was indulgent, but she didn't care. Not then, at least. It was difficult for a nightmare to think with morality after a mission like that, and Rose wasn't experienced with such pain as the rest were.
Even when the sky let out a mighty roar and bared its electric fangs upon her, she did nothing but walk. It stung, but not as much as his eyes did. The child who hung limp. The battle lost. Rose never could stand failure. It's not that she blamed him, but running her claws through his mother's throat did nothing to ease the pain. Hers, or his as he watched her.
Sometimes even death couldn't heal all wounds, and this kid had thousands. But Rose couldn't even comfort him. Not after she saw his eyes flicker and fade into a void of emotion as she went to touch his arm. Or when he cried when she listened to his pleas; when she stopped and returned her hand to a resting position on the floor.
For the first time in her life, Rose didn't know what to do. So, she cried. Hot, sticky drops of black goop clung to the carpeted floor and kept falling long after the boy's own had dried. The boy noticed this.
He said, "My name is Jason," and sat criss-cross on the floor in front of her. In a way they mirrored each other, both strangely scared and content with the other's presence. They held a certain innocence as well. Although you might not think so at first glance, with a bruise around the boy's neck and drying blood on the girl's claws.
They sat for a while, until Jason stopped trembling and Rose's tears ceased to fall. Until he asked, "Do you know what happens next?" and was met with a subtle nod.
And then, Jason asked her to take his past away.
He said that his life was, "nothing but a nightmare," and that he heard, "angels can heal all pain." Rose laughed, and the boy was confused, but she moved on quickly, and said she could help if he gave her his hand.
He would be reborn again as another child. His life could be better or worse, but it would give him another chance, and she would be able to rid him of his mother for good. This made the boy grin from ear to ear. The hope of freedom, from his great and terrible suffering; it was something he hadn't felt in a long time.
And so Rose stole the boy's memories, and in return gifted him with a new life. This time would be nicer. She followed behind his soul as it flew into a newborn near the capitol of Juatamerica. He brought with him flaming red hair, but was gifted with new eyes, bright green and curious.
There was no fear clouding those irises as his new mother clutched him tight to her chest and cried over how much she loved him. His father, too, was sitting nearby, still dressed in his work clothes from when he had rushed to the hospital six hours earlier without a moment's thought about the meeting he was supposed to lead.
And Rose covered her mouth as it turned into a smile, trying to cover the new onslaught of blackened droplets that flooded her vision. She was invisible, but still embarrassed. She wasn't supposed to cry. Not even when he was given the new name, Michael William Jacobs, by parents who looked at him like a child instead of an object.
So she walked down the hospital's fire-exit stairs and into the forest nearby. Through the rain she saw a field. And, of course, the flowers. Even though she was supposed to be back in the Abyss an hour ago, she stayed there and wept for the memories she received when the boy was lost.
Of the mother who just wouldn't stop. No matter how loudly Jason screamed. Who managed to scar him beyond repair without ever cutting his skin. And, of course, who was now lying dead inside the room Jason hated the most. Her soul trapped in the darkest reaches of the Abyss, where it would never harm someone else again.
Rose pushed the memories away. She would add them to the Grimn's collection facility when she eventually returned home. For now, she held in her hand a wilted flower, and kneeled inside her ring of destruction. And she was found this way an hour or so later.
"Rosie, come-on. Get up. You missed the daily meeting. Everyone was worried, you know the overworld is still dangerous right now. For you, at least."
"You let thistles wander wherever they want, and I'm more powerful than them already."
"You're a hundred and fifty years old! None of us could go out alone at that age, and the realm was still recovering from the End of World's War so we were needed. Besides, at your strength you couldn't even defeat a cat-5 corruption, much less a thistle."
"No, I beat Thermie in a match yesterday!"
"Thermie is younger than you!"
"Yeah, but she's fully grown! And I totally wrecked her! You were all probably worse when you were my age because you didn't have anyone to teach you, but I'm great at fighting! I did an entire mission on my own, too, and it was fine."
"You what?" The older figure exclaimed, suddenly very worried.
"Yeah, my first mission! Or, well, it was technically Mr.Therma's mission that I stole, but I'm doing his job for him so he won't be mad."
"It is not fine! Oh my gosh, I can't believe you stole a mission from Therma's dad. The Grimn is going to kill me."
"It'll be ok. Seriously, Spade, don't worry about it. I don't think he would've wanted this mission anyways; it was really nasty..." Rose trailed off, looking down at her feet, "That boy, he had some bad memories."
Spade picked Rose up and started carrying her into the distance despite her squirming in his arms.
"Don't ever do that again, ok? You...weren't supposed to see the bad side of the world yet. And what if the boy had a more powerful soul? You could've been attacked by corruptions, ones far too powerful to fight off alone, even if you weren't a child. Let's get you home so you don't have to carry his memories any more, ok?"
"Fine."
And Rose let herself be carried away to the abyss.
