Made of Stone (Chaos)

I lick my lips thoughtfully and regard the unscrupulous man in front of me with an unreadable gaze. It's been a long time since I've taken on a job of any kind; mostly to do with my recovery, a little to do with the guilt that I'm conducting these while with Kaya. But we need money, and one hunter who's still in school and a semi-active thief isn't enough to keep the place afloat, especially with a growing teenage boy who is the biggest pain you could imagine. The paper is rough and sinister in my hands, the ink is heavy and has bled through in some places. Yet the contract is real enough, I stare back at the photograph that glares at me from the fuzzy printout. Big-Man here is getting impatient and slightly nervous under my scrutiny, but I take my time in making him squirm. Never liked this half of the two leaders.

"This is what you want me to do?" I ask, voice smooth and void of emotion save for a distant tinge of curiosity. Big-Man procures a handkerchief from his pocket and mops his brow - the humidity in the Sewers is disgusting - and nods, shifting in his wooden chair that creaks with his overwhelming weight. "Blackmail seems awfully... simple, for somebody with my profession." Translation: Why are you wasting my talents?

He leans back and regards me through squinting eyes. "DeRicasho, while you are one of the best in District Nine, you're a mercenary first, plain and simple. Mercenaries don't get trusted with the most delicate jobs at their sudden whim after a long absence. Following your unfortunate stint in prison and sudden... attraction, we feel it fit that this be your first assignment, should you choose to return to the field." Big-Man takes a large breath; the desk groans in protest.

"This girl is Quistet Ementi. She's been in severe trouble with the Peacekeepers and they are now looking for her. Your job is to find her first and bring her here by using threats of turning her over to the authorities. We believe that with her distant demenor and stony front will turn her into a valuable asset, if given the proper training." A single eyebrow raises over my clouded orb.

"You're going to try and turn her into an killer. Your little plaything." His smile is dirty and filled with yellowing teeth, but the sinister intent is broadcasted far and wide. "Yes, perhaps to replace the hole you left when you exited. Such a shame that you don't persue the trade in assassination any longer, your skills are sorely missed." Silence. There is no dignification with an answer, because I don't want to say that I promised Kaya to stop killing. Blackmail and theft, I can do. Killing is something I'll miss, but it won't be impossible to cut out the hits that I'm sometimes assigned to do. He sighs and throws the folder over to me again. I study the girl with mid-length blond locks and piercing gray eyes. What have you done, Quistet?

Still, this plan is far from perfect. Pulling myself back up to my again towering height, I watch him with a level gaze and point out a glaring flaw. "If she refuses and fights back? Once she's alerted to the fact that you're looking for her - if she's smart - she'll disappear into the shadows."

His face turns serious.

"Kill her."

------

It hadn't taken long to find her. A few simple questions, a lost expression and friendly curiosity, and people will gladly point the way to awaiting prey. Leaves crunch softly underfoot as I make my way into the brush, enjoying the breeze that floats through my long raven locks. Soon it will be interrupted, but if I'm lucky she'll co-operate and there won't be any major disturbances. Psh, as if. Still, once she's either dead or delivered, it's not my problem anymore and I go home several hundred dollars richer. A fair deal.

Bright patches shine through the foliage and my steps still as I see an unmoving blond sitting quietly on a boulder. Instantly dropping into my thieving stance I carefully rock my weight as I step, ensuring silence as to keep her unnoted. When I draw up behind her the wind shifts so that it comes from my back, undoubtedly drawing a sharp change in flow to the blond girl. Cursing internally I instead draw a sword and place it against the joint between head and spine, letting the blade hiss quietly from the scabbard.

"Ementi? I know people who want to have a talk with you."

Yellow flashes in irritation but I keep myself composed; it's obvious she's trying to get a rise out of me. Smart girl. Her words are strange though I don't doubt them. While I wasn't exactly like her I had roughly the same - I wouldn't miss anybody or anything just a half year ago. Times change. However, the small X she traces with her finger puts me on alert, and I simply tilt my head at her cryptic and slightly mocking sentences.

"And, if I do something you don't like, you'll threaten me," she says, a rhetorical question. "Well, just to let you know, I have no purpose in life except to survive. No family, no comfort I'd miss if I left. Are you the same? Is that why you threaten me with my life? Because there's not a single other person in the world who could have a worse life than yours? You're wrong if you think that." I weigh my words carefully, knowing that the girl with the quicksilver tongue is a tricky opponent.

"If you have no comfort to leave, then there should be no qualms upon striking you down." I reply, passive disinterest in my voice. "If I am the same as you is none of your concern, nor it is mine. I threaten you simply as a warning." The tip presses harder against her skin, exposing a single drop of red that slips from underneath the metal. "While others have had a worse life than mine, I'm sure, mine has been far from perfect." I have no intent of revealing to her how bad my life really has been, nor that I now have a reason to live. It's counter-productive and bad form, a rookie's error before just before the person in question escapes, and he goes home to find his loved one dead.

Smirk. "As for the people who wish to talk, they are a group of inividuals. Rotten scumbags, but they are powerful and will move many objects to get what they wish. And currently, what they wish is you." And it's true. They are my employers, but that doesn't mean I have to like them. Infact, I hate about seven out of eight of that circle in power. "If you see them or not is none of my concern. I've been told to deliver you to them; if you resist, I kill you. It doesn't bother me either way." This strange, diplomatic way of speaking usually only happens during a hit or a job, a far cry from my usual wording. Still, it seems to serve its purpose.

Curiosity now, and I lick pale lips thoughtfully. "So, Ementi. Make your choice."

I snort, flipping my blade and re-sheathing it with a menacing hiss. "It's not my problem whether you wish to go to them or not, or if you think they are bad. I admit, they are. Insults don't bother me, because I'm dense at times. However," My arms cross slightly but I'm ready for anything she might throw at me. Seeing no immediate weapons it looks like she might try and flee; but she's a hunter, and I know from experience hunters can be tricky little bastards. "While my threats - or whatever they appear to be - may fall upon idle ears, I'm sure that you wouldn't wish to be handed over to those who search for you on the brighter side of the law."

Memories of the dank cell play before my eyes; cold and void of life where I slowly wasted away and lost whatever sanity I held. Sometimes in the wet my ribs twinge in remembrance of the month I spent in that hell. While it didn't break me, it wasn't close to the best experience I've had. "Their rehabilitation center is the farthest thing from pleasant."

My lips curl upwards at the sudden absurdity of it all, and I watch the unmoving blond with a critical eye. I should just kill her now, save myself any more word games. A quick slice of the blade would be all it would take, her head would roll and I'd go home with none the heavier conscience.

You have no conscience. A heavy sigh escapes my lips. Not here.

You're my conscience. You just happen to be a sick and twisted bastard.

Absently I wonder if anything would be gained upon bringing her in. She obviously won't be willing to help them with their little games, despite the fact that she's cold enough for the job. Perhaps she has morality that I lack hidden deep somewhere that nobody has caught as of yet? Somehow I doubt it, but humans are complicated creatures. They can surprise you in a variety of different ways. And this creature, Ementi, is just full of secrets. Quietly, I respond to her last sentence. "Because I'm not deaf at all, I just choose not to acknowledge that I hear you." However, I move around slightly and stop in front of her, studying her face. Gray eyes seem dead and features are lax, but I know that for a fact she's anything but apathetic.

"Your options are becoming limited. Playing hard to get might be fine with me - I haven't had a good fight in ages - but if you manage to escape there will be a million white suits after you at my employer's word. You'll be trapped and dragged off to whatever hell awaits you. This isn't a threat, but a fact." Slight hesitation, but in the end it comes out anyway. I meet her gaze to show that I'm not afraid of anything. Money is my first loyalty in this deadly game - employers are just one option towards it. I'm sure I could get an equal or higher price for the information they've given me. A mercenary, after all, can go anywhere - and there are bigger fish that wish for my skills.

"And while I have no qualms about bringing you in, I'm not pleased with the use of authorative force. Still, in the end, it's up to you. Are you going to come with me, or is another... option, going to have to be arranged?"

A satisfied smirk pulls at my lips as her voice turns furious. Seems I've finally gotten under that stony skin of hers and made her tick. Must remember that for later. Her steel gray eyes flash dangerously - a strange similarity to the boulder she's perched upon - but her glare is returned with a steady but neutral look. I cross my arms under my chest but stare her down, narrowing them ever so slightly and feeling the smirk grow wider and more violent with each second that passes. "Don't you dare remind me of my past mistakes," she hisses angrily. "Do you think they don't haunt my dreams every night? Do you think I don't regret them?" My head tilts to the side, stance curious. "I wouldn't know, because I'm unaware of what you've done."

She rises and I watch with passive interest as her fingers clench into tight fists, visibly seething at the angry tension radiating off her small form. She's easily a half-foot smaller than me but I'm slightly interested at how her presence seems to fill the space, making her seem much more large, much more dangerous. Obviously trying to keep reigns on her temper, she all but spits the next sentence out. "But I guess you of all people wouldn't understand. When was the last time you made someone suffer horrible pain. Yesterday? This morning? An hour ago? And I doubt you feel guilty about it." I'm about to say that no, I don't, however a memory is triggered in my brain - my expression darkens to a thundercloud.

A terrible growl escapes my throat as I glare at the redhead in front of me, daring to interrupt my work. My instincts are running full tilt and I recognize nothing in front of me except the dying man who is missing a large chunk of his side, vanishing and sitting pretty in my stomach. She stares at him with a strange mix of horror and fascination, eyes switching between me and the soon-corpse that is still warm and pumping blood onto the mangy carpet. Another large portion is gone when I sink my teeth and swallow, but everything happens so fast as she stammers out something incomprehensible and I find myself pinning her to the ground.

Her porcelain features are familiar but unknown as I gently trace her lips, frowning as a name comes to me. Kaya. Who's Kaya? This girl? The name fits, but I'm still confused as we stare at each other. She's repeating something over and over again that I can't quite catch, but her voice clicks in my head and I scramble back off of her in shock, eyes widened in an examplery display of horror. Girlfriend. She's my girlfriend! And that scumbag is her father. That I just killed and... and... ate.

For being so scared she moves quickly and her lips are on mine but all too soon they are gone, and she murmurs something that I brokenly reply to - the words seeming to snap her out of an unaffected trance. Quickly she scrambles back from my frame with such an expression of terror and hurt that it physically makes my chest ache, but a tilt of the ankle and she finds herself falling to where her head hits the bare floor with a resounding crack. Crying out I rush towards her and cradle her fiery mane in my lap, running my fingers across her scalp and face to assure myself that she's alive and not gone. But the fact remains that it's all my fault.

For the first time in years, I feel a wave of guilt so strong that it almost makes me expel the sordid remains in my stomach.

"What I have done is none of your concern, Ementi." I hiss, rising so that my voice matches hers. "But know that guilt, however rare, is not above me." My jaw clenches angrily but I still keep control through difficult conditioning and glare stonily at her through bright golden eyes, daring her to do something. Still, her next words surprise me. "I'll go with you." Even she seems stunned at her choice but quickly recovers, hidden by a morbid curiosity. "But only if you answer these questions." For a moment I study her, but relent. If that's what it'll take for her to come with me.

"Fine. I sigh, shifting most of my weight onto my back leg. There's no doubt that she's serious, but her question makes my brow raise in mild amusement and confusion."Do you enjoy spreading torture?" Still there's a slight hesitation as I weigh my response.

You love it. I scowl.

No, you love it. I do it because it needs to be done, your emotions just rub off on me.

Finally, I relent. "Yes, depending on the circumstances." While I'm no doubt sadistic and enjoy the act of inducing pain, I find that it doesn't do much for me if it's against one who has done nothing to incur karma's wrath. Killing in itself, however? A rush.

"And how many times have you considered killing me in the past ten minutes?" The smirk that has faded returns and I watch her through veiled eyes. "Quite a few. To be honest, I think it would be much easier than going through all this hassle. Thought. "However, easier doesn't mean more satisfactory." I don't kill those that interest me, it's quite anti-productive.