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Published:
2024-11-23
Completed:
2024-11-23
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4/4
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Mercy Kill

Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

She refused to speak with him for what she thought was two days, even when he attempted to initiate conversation with him. Even when he wasn’t talking about wanting to kill her (though that seemed to occur less and less often).

She couldn’t stand the odor of herself anymore. She needed to shower.

The front portion of the curtains had been tattered, so she wasn’t able to pull them forward to cover the statue and herself. But she could pull the back, which was split down the middle. She draped both hands over the arms of the statue, giving herself at least some privacy. She stripped down, feeling uncomfortable, knowing that the Subordinate’s eyes were still on her, as though it could pass through the veil.

She dunked her clothes directly behind the statue so that he couldn’t see her nude form (the curtains only covered halfway; he’d be able to see her legs when she stood). As soon as they were dipped into the water, they seemed to have been rid of their odor, as she brought it up to her nose to check. She cupped some of the water puddled at the base and splashed it to her armpits, the odor disappearing shortly after as well. She tried to be quick about it. Surprisingly, Chopper had no snide remarks to make about her nudity.

The dirt washed away easily from both her clothes and her body.  She stepped off the dais and into the soil. She giggled quietly as she wiggled her toes in the soil, enjoying the warmth of the ground and softness on her feet. She’d have to wait for her clothes to dry, which she had hung on the various branches surrounding her. She moved into a corner of the room where the walls went deep, shielding her from his gaze. There was a moment of self-consciousness, when she sat down and her bare legs were visible to him. There was also a moment, as she ran her hands over here drying thighs, that she thought maybe she didn’t really mind that much if he did look.

.o

She couldn’t take the loneliness anymore.

“I’m sorry I… made you upset. With the question,” she tried, sitting next to the barrier. She didn’t want to sit in silence, not talking to anyone. She was a social creature; she needed to the communication.

Chopper made a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I don’t mean to offend. I just… want to know more about you. Since there’s nothing else to do,” she confessed.

“You could do the right thing,” he retorted, crossing his arms.

It was her turn to make a grunt of acknowledgment. She didn’t want to die. But she couldn’t stand not talking anymore.

“Can I ask…” she started, but then held back, realizing the question might make him mad again.

“Hm?”

“You have to promise you won’t get mad. I’m not trying to make you mad. Then I’ll ask.”

“If you ask the same question, I’m going to kill you.”

She bit back a laugh. As though he hadn’t already threatened to kill her hundreds of times by now.

“I was wondering—well, when dealing with the other bad guys, I—“

“Subordinates,” he interjected in correction.

“Right… when dealing with the other Subordinates, I found articles about their life. The man with the sledgehammer, he was hung after killing a bunch of people. The man with the acid, he died falling into a vat of acid.” She picked at her bare feet, preferring to feel the grass on her feet than continuously be covered by shoes. “Um. How did you die?”

She braced herself, waiting for his rage. When she didn’t hear the outcry, she peeked from the corner of her eye.

Chopper stood frozen, hands balled into fists. His jaw looked tense, and if he had a heartbeat, she was sure she’d see it in his thick veins. He drew in a breath through his nose and exhaled.

“I loved a girl. She never once looked at me nor gave me the time of day nor smiled when I gave her little wood carvings of her favourite animals,” he kept turned away from Alyssa as he exposed a vulnerable part of himself. “All of that, and I couldn’t stop loving her. She drove me crazy, her smell, her beauty, her charming personality.

“I saw another man starting to get close to her, so I decided to pop the question before another could take her away from me. I asked her to marry me.” His face contorted in pain, making Alyssa nervous. “She said no.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alyssa said glumly, wondering why a rejection would cause him to die.

“She didn’t stop there. She said no, who would ever want to love a freak like me? I couldn’t take the bullying and the suffering others inflicted anymore. If no one would love me, then I’d live up to what they called me. A monster. At least then I’d know what I am. They couldn’t be wrong; why else would they call me a monster?”

Oh.

“Thank you for sharing,” she said weakly.

She mentally agreed that pale, bald guys weren’t initially on her list of guys who’d be conventionally attractive. But when she took the time to study his features, trying to look past the fact that he represented ‘monster’ in and out as a Subordinate (having been here for a long time with nothing but him as company, it was getting harder to see him as just a monster), she saw he wasn’t… bad looking.

“You’re not unattractive,” she admitted. “Why would people bully you? Why would they call you a monster?”

He made a sound that was like a corpse wheezing its last breath. “This isn’t my real form,” he said. “Subordinates can take on any form they please. This is the one I prefer.”

“Why?” Alyssa asked out loud before her brain could filter it out.

“I…” Chopper turned fully away in a moment of…was that self-consciousness? “I was demonized for the way I looked. So I took on a form that I liked.”

“Can I see it?”

“See what?” Chopper rose a brow as though it were insane to even think someone would want to see his true form.

“Your original self.”

Now, Chopper really did feel self-conscious. He didn’t know what had happened in these past few days that suddenly made him care what this girl thought of him, but now he was aware of what he looked like.

These passing days had been filled with a girl who, despite the circumstances, chose to speak to him. She could’ve ignored him or thrown all sorts of insults at him until she eventually crawled out and accepted her death, but she instead chose to talk with him like a human being. He’d only had that luxury with his parents, those he did business with as a woodcutter (though they were all male), and other Entities. Jemima was a female, but she only spoke when accompanied by Ralph, and only about things like murder. While Harold and his Entity did enjoy dolling out pain upon others (as they rightfully deserved it, he mused), it wasn’t his only interest. The twins had a life prior to being titled Executioner for their Lord: jestering. They were talented jesters, pissing off anyone, including their Lord’s constituents at the right time, adding a bit of humour to a dry, dull meeting, getting his enemies to spill the beans when needed. Why did they not show a semblance of that life outside of torturing?

He thought about how lonely he was, in desperate need of company himself.

So he showed Alyssa his true form.

Alyssa fought not to let her face change with surprise upon seeing what he really looked like. His body was exactly the same—that buff, solid wall of muscle that any girl would find attractive. The colour of his skin stayed the same, though barren of the red markings. He was an albino, purpleish eyes stunning yet startling against the white of everything else. His white hair was short, almost shaved to the scalp. His teeth were crooked, yellow, though she remembered reading that many people of the day had poor hygiene.

She was surprised, but not disturbed. She’d learned about albino humans in school. One even attended her school. They had a peculiar look, and they had to avoid the sun, but it was no reason, at least in her modern world, that they should’ve been harassed for it. She found herself feeling courage as she asked:

“Can I… touch you…?” She was scared but… she had this whispering in the back of her mind… that maybe not all entities needed to be defeated with a bow and arrow.

His face split with horror and he took a step back, his axes coming up defensively.

“You’re making fun of me.”

“No, no!” She soothed, holding her hands up. “Why would I? You’re not…ugly.”

“This—this isn’t a joke?” He sounded awfully incredulous.

“No? Why would it be?” she asked.

“They… they would. All the time. They’d pretend they wanted to date me and then make a laughing stock of me.” Date…? Is that what… he wanted…? “They’d call me names, throw rocks at me. Even the woman I loved. No woman could like something like this.”

“That’s not true,” tried Alyssa. “I never learned your name.”

He blinked. “Harold.”

She nodded. “Harold, look at me.”

He’d already been looking in her direction, but now his eyes were drawn to her face.

Her mind screamed at her to not do it. She held that gaze as she shakily stepped across the barrier. She was surprised that, as soon as she stepped through the barrier, the room was back to normal. It was as though no damage had ever occurred. Just a second ago, while still in the prayer room, it looked like it were completely destroyed! That crazy pirate guy destroyed it!

 Her heart felt like it would leap out of her chest—probably what an Entity wanted in the first place. She stood slowly, though Chopper stiffened anyways. She took one step, then another, towards him. Her arms hesitated, then lifted slowly. One hand touched the metal loop on his waist, tentatively, like a rabbit that would flee at the slightest movement. The other raised and her fingers brushed the sharp angle of his jaw. She could feel her body warming once she made physical contact, the nerves slipping away. Her gaze briefly dropped to his chest, now blank from his red markings. The hand tugging at the metal hook moved to trace the scars that marred his abdomen in a morbid fascination.

Chopper could smell the nervousness, the fear emitting from her. He stood still as a statue, though his mind was screaming this would be the perfect time to kill her. He wanted to lean into her touches, but his past reminded him this was likely a trick.

Her eyes slowly trailed upward, past the neck, past the crooked teeth, past the odd-shaped nose. She forced herself to ignore these things. To just stare at his eyes. Her thumb swept his cheeks. She closed her eyes, shuddering with something other than disgust and fear. She took the bold step to embrace him. He let her pull him into an embrace—she had no doubt that he had the power to resist any movement.

His body was cold but she didn’t let that stop her. She squeezed him tightly, cheek pressing against his chest and body molding to his.

He gasped, dropping his axes unconsciously. He didn’t hear them hit the floor.

It was an overwhelming amount of sensation. He’d… never… it was so warm… He felt like he was melting, his breath being taken away. He tentatively wrapped his arms around her in response, chest feeling lighter than it ever had even when he was alive. He could feel her heart beating through his own chest. He’d felt the pulse of his victims as he choked them or even as he held the open, bleeding hearts of other Rooder girls… but it never felt like this. Every part of him felt active, burning with warmth, so unlike the fire he felt when she’d doused him with holy water. This was so… pleasant. He ached.

Even when she drew back a little, the areas where she’d touched him prickled with life.

She stood on her tiptoes, disappointed that she couldn’t reach higher. “Harold… bend down a little.”

He was confused but he did as she asked. When her lips met his, he thought he’d died again. The smell of her, this Rooder girl, not tainted with fear or disgust. He groaned as their lips melded together. He squeezed her closer to his form, wanting to grip more, hold more, take more…

“What is the meaning of this?” a voice broke through his heaven.

Reluctantly, he drew away from her, and turned 180 degrees to see who interrupted them. He kept Alyssa in his grasp, holding her close to his body.

“Grandpa?!” Alyssa exclaimed.

The elderly gent didn’t seem disgusted, meaning he likely hadn’t seen the kiss. The man looked rugged, as though he’d suffered a burning all over his body. Even his hands were pocked and hellish.

“Is that who I think it is?” Dick asked, squinting at Chopper. He wasn’t familiar with Chopper’s original form. Chopper felt incredibly vulnerable in his original form, so he transformed back into the form that Dick had known him in.

“Lord Burroughs rejected me after my failure… so, once I recovered from the immediate damage he’d done as punishment, I came back to finish the job myself,” he explained in a tone that one would use conversing about how good the weather was. “Lord Burroughs may not have been able to cross the barrier, but in my human form, I certainly can.”

He glanced at Chopper holding her, smiling wryly. “You’ve managed to capture the wench. Good. Allow me to do the honours.”

From one of his interior duster pockets, he retrieved a sharp blade. It was clear what his intents were.

Chopper growled in warning. “Don’t.”

Dick was in disbelief. “What?”

“I will kill you if you try to harm her.”

The old man scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her? Your sworn enemy!” He point in ridicule. “The moment she gets the chance, she’ll vanquish you to rid the world of people like you and I!”

“You and I?” Chopper tilted his head, loosening his grip on Alyssa. “You and I are not the same. You are not an Entity, nor do you have what it takes to be one.”

“I wasn’t intending on harming her,” Dick shrugged. “I merely plan on getting her to carry my child, so that when the time comes, fifteen years down the line, I have another attempt to become an Entity. This,” he hefted the knife, “was just a tool of persuasion.”

Alyssa felt sick to her stomach; Chopper bristled. He wouldn’t dare let this man harm the first girl who hadn’t fled or bullied him. The girl who showed him what it felt like to hug a special someone. The first girl who gave him a kiss.

When he summoned his axes, Alyssa knew what would happen, but couldn’t bring herself to look away when her grandfather was beheaded. When the blood splattered on her face, though, she tore her gaze away and cowered from the sight. Even though she hated what he’d done, it still wounded her to see it happen.

She’d never forget the thud of his body.

Tears rolled down her face, questions forming in her head when she heard the familiar sound of something apparating away. She wiped her tears, looking down despite herself to where her grandfather should’ve been. Instead, all that remained was a patch of blood that had soaked into the carpet. Chopper had warped him away so she’d be spared further of seeing it.

He’d intentionally prevented her from suffering.

She blinked the tears away as he took the torn remains of furniture fabric and wiped the blood off her face.

When his skin started sparkling, she gasped, touching his arm. He looked down in surprise as well. His body was starting to fade.

Unlike other Subordinates, Chopper’s Entity was intrinsically linked to him. His Entity found him due to sharing the same emotions that the Entity had been feeling at the time of his rejection. They shared a common goal, a common need to hurt people because of how he was hurt.

And yet.

And yet, when someone finally showed him love in a special way, it was his entity’s undoing. Reciprocated feelings, something that he’d longed for but could never obtain, now in his possession. It wasn’t a strong, stable love, but the joy of having this… this feeling… if he’d only known how good it would feel before… It was the sacred weapon necessary to vanquish the Subordinate.

Alyssa quickly embraced him in a hug again, desperate for one final contact. She pulled him down to kiss once more. She felt his lips moving against hers as he said, “Thank you, Alyssa… Thank you…”

She held on until her hands had nothing to grip.

He was freed from himself.

A small clink on the ground drew her attention. Bending down to pick it up, she found that it was two fragments of her clover necklace: the Clover of Hope and the Clover of Strength.

She inserted them into their respective holsters, gripping the completed necklace tightly to her chest.

She didn’t know what to do now. The threat of those two crazy clowns was still out there, but every other Subordinate she knew about was no longer hunting for her heart.

She felt the tears drying on her cheeks.

She found her way to her mother’s room, feeling strangely empty inside. She threw herself on the bed, where a new wave of tears stained her mother’s pillow.

She kept clinging to her necklace, praying to God and her mother that she would recover.

Notes:

Wew, wrote this all in one morning today. Hope it's not too bad. Thanks for reading.