A package for Seraphim

The outside of Seraphim's locker at the AFW locker rooms was apparently untouched. This would make the presence of a foreign package, a manilla envelope addressed only to "S. H.", a considerable mystery.

The contents of that envelope contained a tape recorder with a tape already inside it, a pair of good quality headphones, and a letter that simply read, "S- You did not believe me. This tape is 4 years old. One of my personal favorites. -E"

What a long week it had been... Personally, Seraphim was just glad the weekend was in site, and she could rest easy, even if Seraphim had really just done so yesterday. For the past few days, Seraphim had gone through a lot of conflicts. She had her match with Sharaiya and made good friends with her, she had trained with Masane but only ended up regretting it and feeling worse about herself, there was the training with Tracy as she had finally taken the girl in and allowed her to live with her and Alison, and then finally, there was that encounter with Megumi. It was that tie with Megumi that really left Seraphim broken down. Where at first the two were trying to make up, and Seraphim ended up saving her in that last match, it ended with Seraphim in tears as she conflicted herself on whether Megumi was the right one for her, or she should stay with Phoebe.

Phoebe... just tihnking about her made Seraphim worry. Yesterday, Seraphim took a mental health day after her time with Megumi, and so today, she had returned back to the gym to train for an upcoming match tomorrow, trying to recover mentally from all that had happened, and physically, seeing as how Seraphim currently had a bandage around her neck still for an injury that was nearly healed, but also a larger one on her right forearm and her left thigh. It would hurt occasionally, the wounds having been inflicted from a blade that Seraphim helped fight off from a craxed Kuniochi alongside Megumi, but Seraphim was the type who found no agony in pain, and was pushing herself for a steady recovery, her thoughts never leaving from all that has happened.

In the end, no matter what she tried thinking about, her mind kept thinking back to Phoebe. Why hadn't she heard from her lately? Was Phoebe okay? Was Elena planning something? Did... she say something wrong? Phoebe wasn't angry with her, was she? These thoughts made Seraphim's heart sink, actually hurting the girl who was normally so good at blocking off pain, a deep sorrow still in her as she trained, partly from Megumi, but mostly because of Phoebe.

Deciding in the end to stop training by the middle of the day, Seraphim returned back to her locker to get a towel and clean up, tempted to call it an early day since she didn't feel too focused with training today, but she stopped when she openned her locker to see a package, one that made a knot in her stomach twist. 'E'...? Why did she get a hunch it was elena after she read what it had said? Quickly, Seraphim scanned the locker room to make sure she was alone, and then tore the package opened, a little dumbfounded to see a tape recorder inside with headphones. A strange 'gift', but
seeing te tape, she caught the hint.

Feeling a sense of dread slowly build up in her, Seraphim reluctantly put the headphones on and took a seat on one of the benches. And a few seconds later, she gained the courage to press play.

With a crackle, the tape recorder came to life. First, a bit of static, then, the soft whimpering of a young girl could be heard in the background. Then, a voice. It was clearly Phoebe's... a bit younger, and with a smidge more emotion than usual.

"Dear Ms. Kiryu," Phoebe spoke, "Remind me to ask you, should we ever meet in person, precisely what it is that makes these women so loyal to you. I had assumed it was fear of a slow death. I decided to test that theory on your little mechanic friend here. Let's... just say she isn't nearly so pretty any more. Say hello." The pained sobbing grew louder. Phoebe reiterated more forcefully, "Say hello!"

"Please... please stop..." The groaning was weak, pained.

Phoebe let out an indifferent grunt and continued, "She assured me it wasn't fear. Now, while, it is impossible to prove a negative, several hours under a blow torch makes a compelling case." A pause. A whooshing noise... the blow torch?

Phoebe growled, "Last chance. And this one's for posterity. Where is Kiryu?"

Phoebe received only desperate moans and sobs of agony in response. A gasp shut them off. "Last. Chance." Phoebe warned.

"I... I can't... I w-w-won't..." The girl moaned.

Phoebe seemed to talk into the microphone again, "I wish I knew where you got help this good, Kiryu. It seems almost a waste, but, I never make an ultimatum I won't back up... and the same goes for you, Kiryu. I'll find you." The blowtorch flared loudly. A bloodcurdling scream. Silence... footsteps... and a click.

Roughly fifteen seconds after the end of the tape, Elena herself would enter the locker room, an unzipped leather jacket dangling loosely over her dominatrix outfit. "Ah, Seraphim. I was afraid I wouldn't catch you." She looked tired, having just wrapped up a hard day's exercise herself. Her demeanor seemed to belie no hard feelings from their last encounter, but Seraphim would likely have Elena pegged as someone who can disguise her feelings well.

Leaning against the lockers opposite Seraphim, she'd smile, "Like what you hear?"

As Seraphim listened, the world around her no longer seemed to take place to her. She would sit there on the bench, arms on her lap, head hung low as the bangs of her feather-white hair casted over the front of her face, and she hardly seemed to move, seated like a statue as she listened to the horror on tape. Seraphim was no fool, in fact, she caught on very quickly to just what she heard, and it didn't seem to make her even fidget or become encased in fear. No.. when you've killed, and when you've seen loved ones die right in front of your very eyes, somehow... death becomes something you just fail to see as a shocker; you became numb to it.

She didn't want to beleive it, but Seraphim knew it was the truth. She didn't even budge when it came to an end, letting the empty sounds of static at the end just wash away her thoughts, completely void to her surroundings.

That is... until Elena walked in.

Seraphim didn't respond to her, at least not verbally, as she slowly stood up, her hair still shadowing parts of her face and that crimson eye of hers as she slowly approached. The way she walked seemed very relaxed, like she was practically dragging herself to get close enough, before Seraphim stood there silently in front of Elena, not even saying anything back to her. It was like staring at a walker of the dead, just a corpse who didn't breath life as it remained there in front of Elena.

Then, within half a second, there was an earth-shattering bang, the entire locker room echoing out with a destructive burst and the sound of metal actually being torn. It was Seraphim's fist, and in the blink of an eye, as it was once limp at Seraphim's side, she now had it slammed into a locker, only inches away from Elena's face as it not only left a massive crater of mutchered metal along it, but in a feat of nearly inhuman strength, her fist had actually gone through it.

((In the interest of full disclosure, I will say I stole a significant portion of Phoebe's recorded speech earlier from Far Cry 2.

Also, don't play Far Cry 2.))

It took a lot to surprise Elena. That was definitely enough. Her eyes wide, but otherwise remaining steady where she was, she turned to look at Seraphim's hand, and then back to Seraphim herself. For a second, it almost looked like she pitied Seraphim.

"The mechanic... was not so much an employee of her organization, but Ms. Michiro Kiryu's illegitimate daughter. Kiryu was one of Phoebe's last contracts." Elena took a deep breath. "I saw the way you looked at Phoebe. You trusted her. I am not kidding when I say that is a fatal mistake. I... don't want to see you go down the path Phoebe walks." Elena turned, attempting to walk away. "Not blind to what you're getting in to, at least."

While Seraphim listened, she never once looked into Phoebe's eyes, her own shadowed, her emotions blank, her body still postured in a strange, ragged manner. She slowly withdrew her fist from the hole, tearing her skin along the sharp breaks, but not even flinching as she cut herself along it, drawing blood along her finger and wrist.

Then, only one word came from Serpahim's lips, her tone cold, but shaky, as if she was breaking down despite the firm and frightning aura she had about her, certainly becoming deeply moved and even shattered by everything she had heard just now.

"Why?"

It was all she said. She wanted to ask why Phoebe killed, why Elena was really warning her, and why this approach needed to be taken. Why did Serahim have to fall into a situation that was tearing her heart and mind asunder?

Just... why? Why her...?

Elena turned back to Seraphim... it took all the effort she had to suppress a smile at this turn of events. Elena considered her work of domination, of breaking down the wills of beautiful people... her victims to be a high art. She was even able to peg with a reasonable degree of accuracy how much effort it would take to reduce anyone she met into a quivering wreck. One of the reasons Seraphim had struck her so when they first met was that Seraphim seemed unbreakable... the sort that would die before giving herself over entirely to what Elena offered. Or... at least the process would ruin what Elena considered made Seraphim beautiful to begin with.

And by some incredible stroke of luck, Elena had, unexpectedly, completely shaken Seraphim's psyche apart. Her vulnerability was beautiful... but it struck Elena with a pang of regret. Normally, she was able to overwhelm someone with pain and pleasure... here... there was only pain. And she didn't really have the ill will toward Seraphim to take a measure of delight in Seraphim's suffering.

Going against all of her instincts as a mistress, Elena turned back to Seraphim, quickly wrapping her arm around the small of Seraphim's back, attempting to embrace her comfortingly, "You really had it bad for her... didn't you? I didn't realize..." She sighed, "Anyone but her... you shouldn't have fallen for her. You were right earlier... There is nothing civilized or humane... about me or her. G..." She stopped herself... about to tell her to go away, to never see her or Phoebe again. But she realized something... she... found herself enjoying Seraphim's company. It was something she always knew in the back of her mind... there weren't many women as beautiful as Seraphim that Elena didn't lust for... but Seraphim seemed... so different.

((I guess I kinda wrote a bit too far assuming Seraphim lets Elena embrace her, but it can still go down that way if she doesn't.))

((S'all good. ^_^ ))

She didn't want this, she didn't want anyone to be feeling the same truama she was going through right now. Seraphim had lost a lot of people she loved so much in her past, her friends being the closest thing to a family for her, but to fall in love with someone who actually was a proffesional killer... it was a sick twist of fate that felt like a sword being thrusted into her back, slowly twisting her from the inside out. Seraphim may have killed... but never had she done it as a proffesion, such a thing was an inhuman thing to become; no better than a monster.

Yet here she was... loving a woman killed for a living, and now she was finding it shoved in her face like a round of bullets, unable to avoid it all as it shredded her to pieces from the shrapnel of mental torture. And yet, she still decided to move on.

"Let go..." She said with a blank, emotionless tone, letting out a long, slow breath as her hands were at her sides when Elena embraced her, not even seeming to feel the girl's touch or care for her. In fact, after one final breath, Seraphim actually gave a slow shiver, tilting her head up as her hair was moved aside just enough to see that Crimson eye.

And it looked like it was on fire. Her entire persona was eminating from that single eye, like a raging inferno, only contained by the glassy orb of an eye as she spoke with a most deadly warning, like she was ready to make a second breaking impression on something else, much like athe locker, but this time, it would be Elena. "...I'll break you if you don't."

Then again, moments like these reminded her that Seraphim was quite... unruly. An ill-tempered jackal, reaffirming her first impression of Seraphim. Beauty like Seraphim's was delectable and rare... but by no means unique.

With a shrug, Elena released Seraphim and took a step back. This was twice now that she had allowed this woman to threaten her. She was not planning on there being a third, "Very well. I can see you're not quite reasonable at the moment." She straightened her jacket and her hair, "Consider this the last favor I do you, dear. And the invitation I extended to you when last we met is revoked. AFW does not allow animals into its facilities, and neither shall I." It was probably an unwise statement to make at this juncture, but she had endured more than enough of Seraphim's threats, especially every time she reached out to the girl.

Still, someone not in their right mind can do a lot of damage. Fortunately, so can someone with a knife, and Elena always carried one outside the ring. Her hand drifted down to her thigh-high boot, where the switchblade was hidden, casually, watching to see if she did indeed set Seraphim off.

Seraphim felt her own heart beat at this moment. In fact, for a few seconds, everything else had gone silent, the thumping, steady beat seeming to go in slow motion for Seraphim as she heard it, holding her breath for a few seconds when she did. Then, she took a step back, never taking the time to sooth her injured hand, just looking right at Elena like she was ready to strike, maim, and kill, but she never did, only turning Elena's words right back at her with a twisting satisfaction when she had.

"Animals..? People who kill just for a living.. now that is what an animal is. So don't tell me I'm the unreasonable one when you're the one so eager to flaunt around the deeds of someone else like you're a fuckin' saint." Seraphim's fuse was short, but she kept in intact, feeling a sick satisfaction in her crafty turn in the conversation, proving she didn't need her fists to make a point. "And the people who keep that animal leashed like they are some pet, their even less... nothing but the messanger and deliverer of death, too scared to get their hands dirty."