Post by Mirim Frost on Dec 19, 2023 17:45:39 GMT -5
I Will Kill Them All
Through the following week, Mirim would spend her time helping her friend Aya through this rough patch in her life. The loss of one's mother was nothing to scoff at, and given the outsiderish mentality she had adopted, this issue would have likely spiraled out of control had Mirim not intervened. Draped in the black of despair, Mirim had snatched her out and placed her back on solid ground, something of which Aya openely expressed her thanks for.
Throughout the week they had followed their normal routine. In the mornings they would visit the gym, they would part then for their jobs and whoever was finished first, depending on the day, the other would visit at their workplace. Without her mother's support, Aya was forced to move in with Mirim, something Landlady, and future boss, Shizuka would approve of. It was odd having her there for the first few days. Her routine was solid, crafted to ensure she didn't accidently hurt anyone with little room for deviation.
Yet here she was, becoming that deviation. Mirim would have thought she'd be worried, but no. Despite being the stronger of the two, Mirim would come to feel safe around her. Sliding into bed next to her brought a different warmth than that she was used to. Being dragged kicking and screaming into this new world by Shizuka had given the shortstack woman a lot to reflect on. What was this really, this secure warmth when merely being near her friend. Could this be what people so casually call, "Love?"
Such introspections often took more brainpower than she had to process, so she'd dismiss it. Still, such thoughts often made the walk home much quicker. The dark quiet of the night made her skin crawl, so the distraciton was highly appreciated. The dismissal of her thoughts on this concept of love would drag another thought to replace it. Just where was Aya this night? The last time she was missing, her mother had died and simply couldn't bear be anywhere else but by herself.
Mirim's brow furrowed, and she'd stop along the sidwalk, only a few blocks away from their apartment. Quickly, she'd dial her number and place the call. Her heartbeat seemed to match the rythmn of the ringtone, each second hoping Aya would pick up, but she wouldn't. Instead she'd hear the feint noise of windchimes in the distance, identical to her friend's phone. Rushing to the source, she'd follow the noise, calling her again and again to keep the ringtone going.
Adjacent to the apartment complex was a small park, filled with trees and a walking path, a normal relaxation spot they'd often share, which would have relieved Mirim should Aya had picked up the phone. Mirim's pace slowed, the orange light of her eye illuminating the dark cast by the tree's canopy. The lack of Aya made her anxious, as did the sweet, putrid, and oddly familiar smell hanging low over the park.
In her short experience, the memories left behind by her predecessors held all the same aspects normal memories do. Through them she could feel, taste, hear, etc, though details were often hazy and/or distorted unless specifically focused upon. This smell fit the criteria she made, but from what ancestor could have smelled something like this. She was afraid to open that door, so she'd simply walk towards the ringing phone in the grass, picking it up.
Blood and ash were smeared over its screen, of which was cracked, barely able to function. She'd pocket the device and turn her attention to the smell, following it deeper into the park. The smell intensified, bringing a nausiating feeling in her gut. her hand moved to cover her mouth and nose in attempt to shield herself from the stentch until she found the source, a barrel with the feint remains of smoke pouring out from the top.
Mirim lashed out with her foot, kicking the heavy metal barrell over, spilling its contents out on the walking path. Ashes would be picked up by the breeze, blowing the toxic mixture into her face. Coughing, the silver haired girl wafted away the smoke and knelt down at the pile. Immediately she recognized charred bone and bits of flesh, meaning it was indeed human at one point. It didn't click in her mind that Aya's broken, blood smeared phone was found nearby here.
She'd brush her hands over the ashes, noticing a few bits of body parts not burned completely, to include a seperated hand clutching something. She'd gag abit as she peeled the fingers apart, pulling the bit of fabric held tightly in its clutches as if trying to conceal it from its attackers. She'd pull the fabric free and look upon it. The fabric was coarse and tough, likely from a jacket of sorts. Upon the patch was a symbol, a jackal's skull pierced by a broken spear.
She'd exhale deeply and stand, her mind swimming in the observations laid before her. The blood, horrifically burnt corpse, Aya's lack of presence anywhere that day all painted a scary picture in her mind. She shook her head and ran, slipping the patch in her hoody's pocket. It couldn't possibly be what she was thinking, She couldn't grasp the "how" here. Aya was strong and fast, and adept at defending herself.
Flickering lights draped the entryway into the apartment complex, a trail of dried coagulated blood leading in along the path she followed. As she hesitantly walked to the doorway, a man clad in black would step in her way to greet him. Clad in a heavy black jacket, leather pants, and a dark motorcycle helmet. "Well well, look what we have here. What's a pretty gal such as yerself out and about at this hour?"
Mirim averted looking into the man's tinted visor, glancing over his jacket before lowering them to his legs, watching him step and move closer. Mirim grasped at her hood, flipping it over, draping her face in shadow as the orange light of her eye shifted to a tense, rage building crimson. The puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place and anyone with a calm mind could put them together. Unfortunately for this would-be attacker, Mirim was anything but calm.
Her chest thumped violently, adreniline filling her vessels and spread out throughout the rest of her body. At any moment she could feel herself nearly lurch at the man, assuming he had something to do with the horrible scene she witnessed. Despite having the same patch, he wasn't the man who committed the act as he still retained his patch intact. She had to give the man the benefit of the doubt, especially in front of her residence. Mirim imagined Shizuka would be very dissapointed in her if she made a mess on her property.
"Well, you're in luck, lil lass. The night's still young and the party is ever going. Why don't you take a ride on my bike, I'll show you how the Karakura Fiends party, baby, just like that other girl." That was it. That was all she needed to hear. Thankfully, the man was unarmed, but she did see a knife strapped away on his belt. Mirim would never give him the chance to draw it. She had appearances on her side. Someone with her build wouldn't be suspected of the feats she was capable of, and this lack of awareness would cost him everything.
As the man reached for her, her swiftness would be put on full display, ducking beneath his grasp. Mirim was not opposed to low blows, not when the person has committed much more indredulous acts. A swift punch to the man's groin would stun him long enough for her swift hand to steal his knife ouf of its sheath. The man cried out in pain and succesffully grapped the smaller girl, but she'd return the gesture, slipping her body around his arms, grappling it.
With a soft exhale of effort, she'd drop to the ground, pulling with all her might as she slipped beneath his feet and rolling to the side, pulling him prone and popping his arm out of its socket. He'd cry out in pain, the fall focused on the dislocated shoulder, but he wouldnt suffer for long. Mirim lept upon him, straddling his back and taking the knife in both hands. her teeth gritted and her palms began to sweat as she brought the knife down again, and again, and again, and again.
Blade would render flesh asunder, splashing herself and painting the ground with his crimson ichor. Until he no longer moved she'd keep up her assault before embedding the blade into his neck, leaving it there. In her right mind, she would have moved the body off the walking path, maybe gain some help to dispose of the body. Perhaps she wouldnt know what to do after all. She'd never taken the life of another living human. This would be the first of many. There just was that taste in the air.
Chest heaving, her heart pumping hard in her ears. She had to get to her room, she had to get there right now. She'd follow the trail of blood inside to the lobby of the apartment building, following the path of crimson along to the elevator and up onto her floor, her shoes splattering every step of the way. When she came to her room, she'd find her doorknob knocked in. Her lips quivered, her imagination burning wild at what she might see. She pushed open the door.
She'd find her apartment wrecked. Sheets torn, clothes scattered, blood staining her carpet, but no sign of Aya. "Fuck", she'd say under her breath, her body calming as she forced herself to look upon the scene, use her mind. It was hard, but she was forced to bring herself down. Tears welled in her eyes and streamed down her face. This wasn't that man's blood nor was it his friends. It was Aya's blood. That trail, that trail led out to the park. Inside the park she found Aya's phone, which now rested in her pocket. Further inside the park was a steel barrel of a smoldering corpse, reduced to scraps and ashes. That was Aya.
Aya, her friend, one of the few people since her arrival here she truly cared for, was killed and drug from her home. This was rediculous, what could she have done? She had just lost her mother and was trying to build her life in a nation not familiar to her, just like Mirim. She kept her nose clean, kept to her business, yet she was sliced up, beaten, and burned. The only two refreshing details about this scene was that her spirit was no where to be found, meaning she probably passed on and wouldn't have to witness what Mirim was going to commit that night, and that she left Mirim a clue for her to follow.
Mirim walked into her apartment slowly and sat on her bed, her hands grasping the patch in her hands. "Karakura Fiends, Hm?".
21
{Spoiler}{Spoiler}{Mirims Stats and Stuff!}Class: 5Type: Soul Specialist Version 2
Rank: 1
TP:500
Stats
STR 215 [54] [645]
SPD 165 [111]
RS 25 [17]
SPR 50 [34]
INS 50 [34]
SEN 50 [34]
ES 0
LIGHT 50
DARK 50
HE: 0
SP 325/1600
Skills
Street Fighting 1
Pain Tolerance 1
Battle Focus 1
Focused Eye 1
Anti-Stealth 1
Acrobatics 1
340/340 REIATSU
Rank: 1
TP:500
Stats
STR 215 [54] [645]
SPD 165 [111]
RS 25 [17]
SPR 50 [34]
INS 50 [34]
SEN 50 [34]
ES 0
LIGHT 50
DARK 50
HE: 0
SP 325/1600
Skills
Street Fighting 1
Pain Tolerance 1
Battle Focus 1
Focused Eye 1
Anti-Stealth 1
Acrobatics 1
340/340 REIATSU
NOW PLAYING
a couple hours later and i feel like i've only wrote a part of what i've been feeling over the last couple of days.