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Dead Circus
1.13 Fallen Angels

1.13 Fallen Angels

Walking through those halls was like taking a step back in time. The facility was nearly identical to when I'd lived there, albeit cleaner. There was an eerie silence, and the sound of my feet on the metal walkways echoed indefinitely. Where was everyone? No soldiers? No Rain? No Eclaire or Watts? They had to come here, didn't they?

I stopped at the foot of a narrow staircase. I remembered it led to Dr. Amedia's office. I had no fond memories of her or her torture chamber. The scars on my back ached at the thought, and I continued onward. I went through the dormitory, running my hand on each door as I passed. My leg pulsated as I limped along, but I tried my best to ignore the pain.

014, 015, 017, 018. There it was.

018, the room I'd lived in with Ordell and Charlotte.

Charlotte. I wonder what happened to her?

Ordell's face flashed through my mind; bloody, broken, buried under the rubble.

I gripped the handle and creaked the door open. It squeaked, slowly opening inward and revealing the common area. It looked newly renovated.

"Sylas, nice of you to join me."

My blood curdled, and my hairs stood on end. Rain was waiting on the couch where Ordell used to sit. The door clanged into the wall, and I stood like stone in the doorway.

"Have a seat—"

I activated my arma before he could finish his sentence. His mouth held open, and his eyes cut into me. I gripped the knife in my hands, squeezing the life out of the plastic handle. I stormed toward him, reared back, and thrust the knife directly toward his neck.

But I stopped. I held the blade against Rain's skin, trembling so much that I might've given him a close shave. What the hell? This was it, wasn't it? Five long years of dreaming to have his blood on my hands. Well, there he was, helplessly caught in my arma. Defenseless. Weak. Helpless.

Something constrained me. It was as if my revenge were too easy. What was Rain's play here? What was he doing, waiting in my old room for me, hoping I'd come? I walked to the backside of the couch, behind the demon. I placed the blade against his jugular and released my arma.

"—so we can. Oh, you move fast," Rain feigned surprise.

"For some reason, I felt compelled to let you speak, so do it."

Rain reached up slowly, removing his officer cap and placing it on the sofa cushion next to him. His hair was jet black, long, and slicked back like a mobster. His gaze remained forward, never once breaking to try and look at me.

"We've known each other what? Five whole years? I don't think we've ever had a proper conversation." Rain always spoke condescendingly, even with a knife to his neck.

"Yeah?" I replied, "what the fuck do we have to talk about?"

"Well, I can start by apologizing for the fate of your family–"

I dug the blade into his skin, drawing a thin line of blood horizontally across his throat.

"–truthfully, Sylas. I was an arrogant soldier, desperately trying to prove myself and rise above my prejudice as a Cambion. I made a mistake."

"So, slaughtering four kids is fine as long as it was in error?" I scoffed.

"Not at all. But that doesn't change the fact. We were there for you, and unfortunately, you kept company that got in the way."

My blood was writhing, burning through my veins like magma, ready to burst. Just do it. Why hesitate? End this miserable piece of shit forever.

"Bullshit. I hadn't even manifested as a Cambion. Quit your bullshit lies; I know what you are."

Rain sunk into the sofa, like he was relaxing. I kept the blade on him, unwavering. My hands had become still, steadied by my hatred for this thing.

"Your denial doesn't affect the truth, Sylas. But let me ask you something."

"What?" I replied.

"Were you ever taught the history of Jiin?"

Jiin. Of course. That was one of the first things shoved down my throat when I came here: Jiin, the first Cambion, a god of destruction in human flesh. He was the entire reason the world changed hundreds of years ago. He brought mass destruction to civilizations, unleashing savage beasts on to the land. The city-states came into existence in response to his rampage.

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"I know my history," I answered.

Rain glared at me through the reflection on the TV. His eyes slashed into me like the claws of a tiger. He wetted his lips, lifting one leg over the other to sit posh. His fingers tapped lightly on his knee, mocking me with his calmness.

"Do you know why people feared Jiin? Why the world crumbled beneath the press of his foot?"

I didn't respond. I avoided looking at Rain's reflection, keeping a firm watch on the knife in my hand instead.

He continued preaching, "It was not because of his power. It was because he was the embodiment of change. Jiin was a messiah who sought to fix the world. Prejudice has always hindered humanity, driving them into the dirt. He sought to cleanse it and bring humanity into a golden age of prosperity!"

"Through genocide? He tried to end the world!" I shouted.

"Because when soil is rotten, and the crops are poisoned, you burn the land and start anew!" He laughed maniacally.

Rain's eyes were wild—the eyes of a feral animal trapped by a predator. He panted heavily from raving about Jiin and his message. His leg began to bounce slightly under his fingers.

"So what is all the preaching for? What are you getting at? You seem like a scared dog to me, General," I mocked, noticing his building anxiety.

For the first time, he looked up at me, and our eyes connected. They were wide, his pupils small and shaking.

"I am scared, Sylas. Destruction is coming, and we aren't ready. All because people like you don't understand what it takes to prosper."

"You're mad," I shuddered.

"You're weak. I've spent my life cultivating the strong. All to prepare for what is coming! You have no idea what the knowledge I possess has made me sacrifice!"

"You took everything from me." I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my anger within.

"Loss breeds real strength. You'd be nothing without me slashing those weights off your ankles! Imagine the champion a lifetime of loss will breed–"

My anger overtook me; I bore my teeth and squeezed the knife tight. Rain shoved his arms upward, separating me from him and dividing us with the sofa. My blade dug deep into the back cushions, breaking the wooden framing that held the backrest together. Rain dusted off his uniform arrogantly, then reached his hand into his coat pocket.

"I'd recommend controlling your anger, Sylas. You wouldn't want to lose anyone else, right?"

I grasped the sofa and flipped it into the wall in a fit of rage, then brandished my knife toward him.

"Where are Eclaire and Watts? I know they came down here after you."

Rain gave a ghoulish grin, then pulled an object from his pocket. His hand dripped blood onto the floor. I stopped and retraced my knife toward me, knowing all too well what he was holding. Rain's eyes began to glow, and his demonic horn appeared.

"Well, Sylas. Eclaire has been close all along, helping me to get the chance to speak with you after so long!" He exclaimed.

Wait. Why did I go there in the first place? I had no nostalgia for my old dwelling, yet my body instinctively found it's way back. Rain wasn't waiting for me; he was guiding me. It was never instinctual; it was subconscious from the start. It all made sense now.

Palm, the soldiers on the security footage, and now Eclaire.

"You can control people. You make them do your bidding by stripping something from them. You just happen to like—"

Rain uncurled his fingers, flourishing his hand open.

Eyes.

Rain always took an eye.

"You sick fuck. You forced Eclaire to influence me into talking to you!"

I knew it was hers. Eclaire's violet pupils were unmistakable. Bloody tendrils still clung to it, pooling in Rain's outstretched hand. I watched the blood drip to the floor. I was mortified, furious, boiling like an uncovered kettle.

"You're quick to catch on," he mocked, "I can forge a contract with humans or cambions by taking something from them. The more important something is, the stronger the contract."

Eyes were always described as the hotspot of Silo within a cambion and our most important feature. Their fantastic colors, unique and strange iris' and even their glow all stemmed from their potent silo count. If I could get the eye away from him, his control over Eclaire may cease. However, I didn't know where she was, and my only indication she was alive was Rain's boasting about manipulating her.

Did she influence me into coming here? Or was that a bluff because his gamble paid off? Regardless, getting Eclaire's eye could only be beneficial, so that was my priority. It should've been easy; I'd activate my arma and swipe it from him before he could blink. If only Rain was less cunning, then it might've been that easy.

Rain watched me as my wheels turned, trying to decipher what my next move would be.

"Poor, poor Sylas. It must pain you, seeing this happen to someone else you care for. But this is what you deserve, for prying in the business of someone trying to help you. You should expect this, after constantly biting the hand that feeds you!"

He was mocking me, trying to lull me into my anger. It was working, but why was he doing it? What was he trying to keep me from by taunting me here?

Watts.

It had to be that he hadn't captured Watts yet. He may have been old, but Shugr and Eclaire trusted him for a reason. If Rain was insistent on me being here, Watts must have been giving him trouble. Rain was all about insurance, and he wouldn't want me to have the chance to intervene and assist the old man.

"So kill me then," I said bluntly.

Rain's grin wavered, and his eyes dulled for a moment.

"That's what you want. I'm in your way. So, kill me," I continued.

Rain gripped the eye, pushing the blood from the creases between his fingers. His smile disappeared; he looked at me with pure disgust.

"What are you getting at?" he hissed.

I dropped the knife at my side and relaxed against the back wall of the room. "I could get that eye from you at any moment; we both know that."

Rain gripped his hand tighter, lowering his hand back to the jacket pocket as I continued.

"So why bring me here? To talk? Bullshit. You're stalling, hoping Watts will be out of the picture so you can capture me. Am I right?"

Rain ground his teeth. He had a scar on his eyebrow and lip that twitched when he was angry. Scars I had given to him when I was a kid. They were reminders of what happens when you take something dear from me.

"You think you know things, don't you?" he laughed. "Well, you'll learn the hard way! Your ignorance has a cost!"

Rain unfurled his hand and bared his devil tongue. He tossed back Eclaire's eye and gulped it down his throat.

No! NO!

I kicked off the wall, and as if by instinct, my arma activated. Rain froze, his hand still covering his clenched mouth. I studied him closely, digging my nails angrily into the knife handle. Then, I saw the lump in his throat, Eclaire's eye in the process of being swallowed. This would let him control Eclaire indefinitely.

Unless?

I didn't think about nor strategize my next move. I'd spent my whole life overthinking every situation. It'd cost me more than once, so this time, no thinking.

I was just acting on what I believed in.

I plunged the blade into Rain's throat, just below where the bulge was at his trachea. I dragged the edge of the metal horizontal and opened up a wide gash across his neck. His body didn't budge. It was ironic, Rain being caught in stasis and unable to defend himself. It was how I felt the day I stumbled into his world. Now, he was in my world.

I took my free hand and dug my fingers into his neck. I fiddled through flesh, blood, and muscle fibers. I felt myself getting squeamish, trying to contain my nausea while watching my fingers crawl through his skin. Then, I felt the eye lodged in his esophagus. It was soft and wet, drenched in blood and saliva. I gripped it between three fingers and ripped it from the opening, splattering blood that lingered fixed in the air.

I stumbled backward, loosely clinging to the knife in one hand, Eclaire's eye in the other. What a gruesome picture I'd painted. A despicable man stood before me, throat gouged open, and blood cascaded in a still-frame image in front of me. Yet, as I looked past him to my reflection in the television, all I saw was a despicable man staring back at me.

For years, I'd wanted this. To take Rain's life slowly, with my own hands. I'd always wanted to relieve my guilt for the death of Palm, Kay, Bonnie, and Lucas, and I believed killing Rain was the key to that. However, I didn't feel better. I still clung to that guilt; it even felt stronger now with no goal stacked against it. Rain's death wouldn't let Palm see the ocean I'd promised her.

I watched the blood slowly begin moving again—only fractions of a millimeter. I'd become stronger, at least. The man in my reflection had done what I couldn't years ago, yet I didn't know how to feel about him. Then, I noticed something.

A ghostly crown floated above my head. It was faint, almost unnoticeable. But there it was, a small halo adorned with a half-circle of long spikes. It was silver but nearly translucent like it was only a refraction of light.

"I see. Alright," I said to my reflection, "we'll do things your way."

I released my arma, and the crown disappeared as the torent of blood splattered into me.