(The end is a strange title for the beginning of a story, no? And yet, it is fitting as well, as you shall soon see...)
*The Eagle*
Costumes of numerous shades and variations danced and swirled before my eyes, all Victorian age, everyone wearing extensive, elaborate makeup. Perhaps it was just the fact that I was the only one in a plain getup, but I felt as if I stood out. People stared at me through veils, or peeked at me from the edges of disgustingly bright parasols. Then again, maybe I was just being self-conscious.
“OMG Katidara! You made it!” A high pitched voice rang out, rather like the shriek of the harpies of lore, and I winced, both at my full name and the improper use of grammar. Before I could correct the owner of said voice, I was glomped from behind. “EEEEE! I don’t know why you don’t wear dresses more often, you look so adorable!” A petite girl swung me around by my wrists with surprising, herculean strength.
“Stephanie, you know I don’t like them. I just wear it to commemorate the characters that’ve been forgotten.” My face had an annoyed expression, but my eyes smiled at the sight of the shorter girl. She had long red hair and an oval shaped face, her usually gray-brown eyes a seaweed green, probably due to contacts. Stephanie currently wore a long, red jacket, high heels, and crimson rimmed glasses. “I really don’t have to guess, do I?”
“Oh, where is my Sebas-Chan! He promised he’d come!” Stephanie sweat dropped, flashing me a flamboyant smile filled with pointed teeth.
“Impressive, how’d you do the teeth?” I wondered aloud.
“Why, darling, I used my chainsaw!” Suddenly a cardboard version of a very familiar death scythe was pointed at my throat. I admired the hours of effort she’d put into it. “Want to test it out?” Stephanie flashed me another grin filled with alligator teeth. After studying her smile for a moment, I saw a slight variation in color in a line along her teeth.
“You glued pointed tooth caps to your teeth,” I said triumphantly, nodding my head and pounding my fist into my face up palm. Stephanie sweat dropped again in surprise.
“Awwwww! I thought I’d get you this time to! Anyway,” She grabbed my hand and started dragging me off towards the entrance. “Let us go look for my Sebas-Chan and William!” The dramatic tone in her voice made me smile. As nice as it felt to smile, the cold pit in my stomach that I’d felt as soon as I exited the nondescript van the agents had brought me in had grown tenfold.
“I will catch up with you and Sebas-Chan and William,” I removed my hand from Stephanie’s and melted into the crowd before she could object. As soon as I was a good distance away, tucked behind a row of shops advertising anime related merchandise, my eyes began to glow a pixelated blue.
A glint of silver caught my eye as I scanned the rooftops. It only took me a moment to realize it was the barrel of a sniper rifle. Everything froze for a moment, and all seemed to be a dark, mesmerizing blue, as I took one of the white roses out of my basket and threw it at a blinding speed. As crimson splashed onto the horrified people below, everything sped back up again and I was at Stephanie’s side once more.
“Where’d you go, Girlie?” Stephanie looked at me curiously, but I just smiled as if nothing had happened.
“Let’s just enjoy the convention,” I beamed at her, pulling her along. “Oh Sebas-Chan!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, and Stephanie and I burst into hysterical, hyena-like laughing.
“Ohhhhhhh~ William! I’m coming for you my darling!” Stephanie took off into the crowd and I ran after her, as if nothing had ever happened. As if… nothing… happened.
*A few hours later*
“You made it a bit hard to cover that up, Miss. Finch,” A voice resounded through the limousine.
“Shut up, Darkley,” I mumbled, pulling my hair out of two pony tails and putting it into a braid.
“Aw, come on, be nicer. I did give your little friend a ride when I wasn’t supposed to,” A secret service agent flashed me a grin in the rearview mirror. He was extremely tan, with a square jaw, and eyes that I’d never seen due to his opaque sunglasses.
“Oh, bite yourself,” I grumbled, glaring at him.
“And here I thought the Prez’s daughter would be on a killing high,” Darkley chuckled jokingly, but all I responded to him with was a cold glare. “Or, perhaps you do not like that title, Miss. Katidara Finch.” The cold glare intensified tenfold. “Then, perhaps the Black Eagle?” As we neared a stoplight, I unbuckled my seatbelt and casually held a knife to his throat.
“Stop talking or I’ll kill you and walk home,” I said, coolly, level-headedly. As the light turned green, I leaned back and buckled my seat belt once again.
“That’d be a long walk, Miss. Finch. I don’t think your brave parents would be too happy if-” Darkley began, but I interrupted.
“My parents weren’t brave, they were idiots, and they died as idiots so often do: Doing what they believe is right, but without any thought whatsoever.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Darkley asked sadly. Zoning out, I flashed back to their death.
We- my parents and I- sat in a simple, modern day coffee shop. The tables were sleek, cool metal, the chairs overly slick plastic with equally plastic red ‘cushions’. The floors were black and white checkers, the ceiling a mesmerizing, swirling pattern. The walls were a sterile white, and covered with strange, modern day pieces of artwork, with kaleidoscopes of color splattered upon them. We were all chatting happily, but, being the ignorant child I was, I didn’t know my parents real intentions as to their visit to the coffee shop. As the saying goes, "innocence is bliss, but ignorance is death." What I didn’t know was that my parents were, in reality, the Eagles to the President, like the dark shadows that worked in the underworld of the Americas.
That day, it was suspected that a terrorist would attempt to kill the recently elected President. I was just taken along so no one would suspect them. To all other eyes, including my own, they were just a happy couple having a fun day with their daughter. Then again, looks can be very deceiving. A man came into the café and started shouting at a well-dressed man- the President. My parents stood and attempted to calm the man, and I was about to shout that they were idiots and to leave the scary man alone- I didn’t like the look in his crazed eyes. However, before I could say anything, the crazy man whipped out a gun and shot them both. It took me a moment to register the fact my parents were dead and the man was beginning to turn to shoot the President. I grabbed a nearby steak knife, and, before I knew what I was doing, I flung it with all my might. It twirled for a moment, and imbedded itself in the man’s head. Shortly after, the President adopted me and my parents were buried. Ever since that fateful day, I’d been his new Eagle.
"Yes, I do,” I answered without hesitation, turning my head to look out the window, as if nothing had happened. Nothing at all.
*A bit later*
The limousine was gliding smoothly along, and I was staring, bored, at the dark, shadowy features of the landscape through the tinted window, when suddenly I jerked forward in my seat. The limo skidded a bit, and my stomach did a flip flop as I saw that we were on an immensely high bridge. If we crashed over it, our chances of survival were a big, fat zero.
“Darkley, swerve the wheel left and right, rapidly, and floor the gas!” I ordered, and Darkley complied, sweat beading down his neck, adrenaline pumping through both of our veins. The car, rather than turning off of the bridge, crashed into a snowbank.
“You okay kid?” Darkley asked, turning back to look at me, blood dripping down his forehead.
“Si,” I replied, not a scratch on me.
“How is it you’re never hurt-”
“Why, in all of the seven hells, did you think it was a good idea to stop?” I pounded my forehead against the back of the seat with each word, for emphasis.
“There’s a man in the road,” He said quietly, gazing off into the darkness. My eyes flashed blue, and, sure enough, I saw the silhouette of a tall stranger standing in the moonlight. The silhouette began walking towards us.
“Miss. Finch, get out of the car,” Darley said calmly, without a joking tone in his voice. I complied, and I knew from the look in his eyes that I’d never see him again.
“Oui,” I said, swinging out of the car and pulling a hidden gun out of a compartment in the basket. Before Darkley could object, I shot a nearby pine tree, causing a veritable mountain of snow to fall on the limousine, simultaneously blocking all the doors and trapping Darkson inside. “Sorry Darkley, but I- I want to do at least one good thing in my life.” I said quietly, and I knew, through some sixth sense, that he’d heard me. Turning on one heel, I faced the shadowy figure. “You know, I’m always in the mood to test the laws of motion, but, not really when it comes to my own life.” The figure remained silent, studying me with unseen eyes. Shrugging, I raised the gun, fully prepared to shoot whoever it was through the heart, but something happened. I choked, dropping the gun in shock as I coughed up blood. “H-How?” I fell over, clutching my side in pain, blood beginning to drip down my nose. The silhouette came closer and closer, and, in my blood hazed vision, all I could see was his smile, like a slit across his face. I felt myself being lifted and then hurled…. Into nothingness. Frigid air whipped all around me, and I could feel snowflakes stinging against my cheek…. But all I saw was my blood streaming through the air behind me, almost like the silk banners in China. For what seemed an eternity, I fell through the air, feeling a sense of weightlessness, but then, as it always does, gravity took over and I crashed into the ground. Feeling all my bones splinter and crack, and my ribs pierce through my heart, was shear agony. Wheezing, I took my last final breath and descended into black nothingness. The snow began to cover my body, until there was not a trace left of myself there. As if nothing had happened… Nothing at all…
I floated in a blank, empty, white space for what seemed the longest time, the only noise, the only anything, really, was the ‘scritch scratch’ of pen on paper. As to who was writing the words, I didn’t know, but I knew what they were writing.
“And yet, was this to be the end of the silent, wandering, trustless Archer? No, for, as she died in one world, she was reborn in another. A world where all of her fantasies and nightmares could come true. A world where her true form would be revealed. A world where her biggest question would be answered.” Color began to bleed into my world of white, and, once again, I spiraled through the air, feeling a sense of weightlessness, when abruptly I connected onto solid, hard ground.
“Ow,” Was the first word that left my lips, in that new world. The question was: Where was I? After a good look around, the question immediately changed to: When was I? As I saw numerous people dressed up in Victorian age clothing. I still wore my Victorian age peasant getup, and, when I searched through my basket, the cold, reassuring metal of a gun reached my fingertips. Closing the secret compartment, I walked through the crowd, as though I had somewhere to be, a purpose, when in reality, I didn’t. My eyes absorbed every detail of this new place, as I melted into the crowd.
This was my end… and yet my beginning. My death… and yet my new life. What would happen to me here, in this strange place? Where was I? When? How did I get here? All these questions were burning in my mind, as I bumped into someone.
“Sumimasen,” I ducked my head and continued through the crowd, but not before I saw a flash of dark hair and crimson eyes, like blood.