[Try Number 3]
Once more, Eclaire shot up from her bed, panting heavily as she grasped her heart.
'It's... it's still here.'
Checking to make absolutely certain, the girl confirmed that indeed, her heart was still present within her chest - which was no longer ruptured from the hand of that man.
'It's like a nightmare...'
Truly, it was a nightmare - however even worse than a nightmare, it didn't end instantly.
In a nightmare, the moment something shocking happens, one would wake up from their slumber.
The mind wouldn't dare to simulate something as horrible as pain, therefore the moment such pain occurs, it ceases to be able to continue in that land of dreams.
However unlike a nightmare, things didn't end with mere pain.
Of course, Eclaire herself could reset everything if the pain were too much to bear - but that didn't take away the few moments of heart wrenching torment that she had to go through each time.
Stumbling up, the girl fell to the ground, her hands and legs trembling to the point where she could not even stand.
Looking up to that mirror, the girl grit her teeth as tears formed in her eyes.
Giving up on standing, the girl faced the ground as she wept silently, not even daring to make as much noise as slamming her fist upon the floor.
'How many times do I have to do this?'
'When will I ever win?'
Wiping her tears, the young woman slowly stood, once more preparing herself to face the future.
Ripping that mirror from the wall, the girl added one more tally to the death marker before replacing it.
Again she sat down on her bed, looking forward with a blank expression as the emotion left her eyes.
'I'm one death closer to success.'
'I'm one try closer to success.'
She told herself these things, over and over in order that a slight fragment of her sanity could remain.
'But... this isn't just a matter of the number of deaths, or the number of tries.'
'If I don't work towards success, then it truly will never come.'
'Therefore... I have to try.'
'I have to put everything in my being into winning - this time.'
'And if I can't win, then I need to at least gain some information that I can use to win next time.'
That was right.
It wasn't just a matter of how many times she died.
She could die a hundred, a thousand, a million times - and she wouldn't succeed.
If she was just dying for the sake of dying, she would never get any closer to success.
Thinking back on the past attempt, Eclaire stood as her expression hardened.
'What did I learn this time?'
Heading to the bathroom, the girl stood in front of a sink as she began to wash her face, preparing herself for the day.
'One. Even if I use poison, Yakov will still know that I'm trying to kill Gerard.'
This was the most important piece of information obtained - which suggested that he truly did have some sort of ability.
She had prepared the drinks in a manner that was outside of Yakov's line of sight, so he shouldn't have seen her place anything within them.
Even if he had his suspicions, he would not have killed her immediately.
He would have stopped Gerard from drinking, and confirmed that it was poisoned before killing her, since she was so precious to Gerard.
But he didn't confirm.
Why?
The answer was simple.
He knew for fact that she was trying to kill him - and he knew exactly how.
The previous attempts at attacking Gerard were all ones that a skilled bodyguard could perceive and prevent. Direct attacks with weapons, in which an enemy was immediately evident and present.
The moment she pulled a knife or a gun, Yakov would have known that Eclaire had betrayed Gerard.
However this time was different.
She pulled no weapon, yet she was slaughtered anyway.
This could only mean that something had been revealed to Yakov through some otherworldly power.
'I hadn't consulted anyone regarding the poison, nor had I left any trace of evidence. There was no way he should have known that I was trying to poison Gerard... yet he did.'
Eclaire found herself stuck.
She was now stuck in a situation where everything she did seemed completely pointless.
'Can he predict everything?'
She did not know.
'No... wait. Is he already suspicious of me?'
While Eclaire had worked so hard to maintain a facade of servitude towards Gerard, perhaps Yakov was directly suspicious of her regardless.
She had betrayed Gerard in the past, so it would make sense.
'So is he completely focusing on me?'
Even if he had some ability that allowed him to somehow gain information, the fact of the matter was that Eclaire was a primary target - someone that Yakov had his eye on.
'But what if I distracted him while someone else did the dirty work?'
Remembering back to how Gerard had called Eclaire for that gathering, an idea made its way into her mind.
'That... I can use that.'
She knew an event that would happen - and soon.
All she had to do was meet Gerard and Yakov at the right time, in the right place - and things would flow just as they had before.
'So I have to hurry up and get ready to make preparations before then...'
Splashing water on her face, the girl looked into the mirror, her eyes thinned as they pierced into it.
She gazed upon herself, looking straight through it with hatred in her eyes.
'Today is the day.'
As she reached back to tie up her hair, the girl thought these words, a deathly aura overtaking her as she resolved herself.
'Today is the day I will kill that man... and nothing... not even death... will stop me.'
----
'I have to hurry.'
There wouldn't be much time until Yakov and Gerard would go out to greet the people. If she took too much time getting herself dressed and ready, Eclaire would miss her window of opportunity.
She had to first head down to the basement and find that man. Then she had to convince him to play along with her plan. Finally, she had to make it back upstairs and meet up with Yakov and Gerard to go greet the people as before.
If she didn't make it in time, she wouldn't be able to take Yakov's attention from the crowd, and he might notice an assassin lying in wait. It was exactly the fact that Yakov seemed to be so focused on foiling any plot that Eclaire herself had that made him vulnerable to the plot of another.
Thus, Eclaire found herself rushing as she made her way through the hotel.
"Good morning, Eclaire."
"How are you doing today?"
"It's wonderful to see you again this morning."
Once more she was greeted in reverent manner by the people who had submitted themselves to Gerard - and in turn made Eclaire out to be a sort of Queen.
These people certainly didn't view Gerard as any form of savior, but it was for exactly this reason that they viewed Eclaire herself as such a person.
To them, Eclaire was the mediator who spared them of Gerard's wrath, easing his judgements and calming his temper.
While they may have viewed Gerard as nothing more than a dictator, Eclaire was the very reason why living under this dictatorship was palatable.
"Excuse me, but I'm in quite a hurry. I have to get somewhere, so will you please let me through?"
With a smile, Eclaire parted the crowds as they immediately obeyed her every word, doing exactly as she asked with delight.
"Of course, Eclaire."
"Please, go right ahead."
Thus, she was able to hastily make it once more to the basement.
It was a place that she despised, but right now she had no choice but to enter.
This was a place filled with people who despised Eclaire to the core, wishing nothing more than her demise.
But just why was there such a split in the way these people treated her?
In order to answer such a question, the clock will need to be turned back.
----
"Hm? You've got food?"
"Electricity!? You're telling me that you've got working AC in this ruined world?"
"You're building up a community? Well, I guess we could come along with you."
"You'll be able to protect us from those things? Are you serious about that?"
"You're really willing to take us in? There will only be more mouths to feed."
"It would be better to work together, given the state of things. Thank you a bunch, Miss."
"My children... they haven't eaten for days. Thank you so much."
"Clean water!? Please, let me come with you!"
"I can't believe there's a society left in this world... I suppose we need to all work together to build everything up again."
It wasn't exactly difficult to convince people to gather at the hotel.
All Eclaire had to do was find a group and find out what they needed the most. Merely mentioning such a thing was enough to convince just about everyone to come with her - whether their intentions were good or evil.
Perhaps some intended to rob Eclaire and her community blind. Perhaps others were merely on the brink of death, starving and fearful - unable to so much as leave their homes without risking their lives.
Some didn't have the manpower to fight alone. There were families who had children to protect, and small groups all over who were terrified of the outside world.
Some people had holed up in stores or other places where they were able to survive for a time, but their resources would soon run dry.
Still, there were others who brazenly marched around, doing as they pleased while forcing others to do the dirty work.
"Hey. Do you see this right here."
Inside a small home, a man sat with a cowboy hat on his head, his feet upon a wooden table as he pointed his finger to that very table he sat upon.
"Er... I'm... I'm not exactly sure what you're referring to."
Another man stood in front of this man, at attention as he spoke with timidity in his voice, his eyes shifting while he spoke.
"This here."
Taking his legs off the table, the rough man slammed his fist onto the table.
"This right here."
With a gulp, the timid man became silent at the blatant abuse of the other.
"Ahh... I see why yer' so confused."
Standing up with a chuckle, the man in the cowboy hat laughed to himself as he unslung a rifle from his back.
"It's cause there ain't nothing there, now is there?"
"Erk! P-please... please don't do anything rash. I... I'll find something! I'll find something!"
Holding out his hands as he pleaded, the timid man spoke thusly as he begged for his life.
"Is that so?"
Slinging the rifle back on his back, the cowboy took a seat once more with a nod.
"Then ya better get right to it. Yer daughter isn't very healthy, I heard. I'd hate for her to have to go another day hungry."
"I... I understand! I'll go right now!"
With these words, the man bolted towards the door, fear evident in his eyes.
"Dad... can I come down yet?"
Suddenly however, the man was stopped in his tracks at the voice of a young girl.
"N-no! Don't come down! Stay right up there in your room for a little longer! Daddy's going to get you something to eat, so I'll be right back - but don't come downstairs, alright!?"
"But it's boring up here. I wanna come down and play."
"I promise that you can play all you want later, but for now please stay up there, alright!?"
"Alright..."
The sound of a closing door was heard as the man breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes once more meeting those of the cowboy at his table.
"You heard her. Get to it, bucko."
With these mocking words, the man's grin fell upon the timid man, at which he immediately rushed towards the door.
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However upon opening the door, he stopped himself before bumping into the person who stood in its frame.
"Ah, sorry... wait a minute... who are you?"
Surprised at the appearance of a person he had never seen before, the man looked back to the cowboy with shock.
"Er... is this an acquaintance of yours?"
"Ain't nobody I've ever seen in my life. I'd remember a skirt that fine if I'd ever seen one. What's yer business, girl? You came to hop on my lap tonight?"
With harassing words, the man leaned forward on his elbow, clearly amused at the appearance of this new person - for the person who stood within that door frame was a gorgeous woman with hair as white as the snow.
"Ah... forgive me for intruding like this... I actually came because I was looking for survivors."
Making her way into the home, the woman took a seat across from the cowboy without so much as asking, laying her elbow upon the table as she rested her head in her palm.
"Would you happen to be survivors?"
"Do I look dead to you?"
"You never know these days."
The unsettling words of the woman forced the man to sit up straight, his previously lax demeanor having left him.
"What do you want, woman?"
"I have an offer to make. I'm sure you're in need of something. Food, supplies, electricity, safety from the undead, safety from... certain people."
As the woman said this, the cowboy immediately sat upwards, cocking his gun as he placed the barrel in the face of the woman.
"You tryin to say som'n?"
"The safety is on."
As the woman made this casual comment, the man's eyes widened as he glanced at his weapon, at which the woman immediately grabbed the barrel of his rifle in the instant he looked away, turning it from her.
"That was a lie. It was actually off."
"You..."
With the barrel of his rifle tight in the grip of the woman's hand, the man swung his fist instead which barreled at her face, however with quick wit she leaned back as she dodged.
As if she had already seen it before.
'Wha... it's like she's predicting my movements...'
"What's yer game? Hell do you want?", the man spat as he regained his posture.
"I said just now, didn't I? I've come to help the people who are in need of assistance. If you need anything, feel free to come with me."
Letting go of the man's rifle, the woman turned her back to the man as she walked off.
"To our paradise, that is."
"Now wait just a minute."
Raising his rifle once again, the man lined up a shot at the back of the woman.
"Yes?"
Stopping in her movements, the woman didn't so much as look back, even while he aimed directly at her.
A single shot could kill her - so why did she have such confidence?
"Do you think you're going anywhere? You've got a pretty face goin' for ya, and ya might be a bit quick witted in a fight, but that's all. You're on the other end of my rifle, so why don't you stay and chat a bit."
"I've come to invite you. I'm afraid I'm quite busy, as there are many others I have to invite - so I'll have to respectfully decline."
"Then decline this."
Click.
The man pulled the trigger on the woman, however his eyes widened as a light clicking sound could be heard.
"Eh?"
"Ah... I suppose I didn't mention it. That's quite dangerous to be throwing around like you've been doing. I turned the safety on... for your OWN safety."
Turning just her head around, the man was met with a horrible smile unlike anything he could have ever imagined.
"Check your pocket. In there you'll find the address. That is all."
And with these words, the woman closed the door behind her, leaving the two men in shock.
Slowly, the cowboy reached towards his pocket, his hand trembling as he did so.
'There's... no way...'
How could she have done such a thing?
When?
Slipping his hand into his pocket, the man heard a crumpling sound as he felt a piece of paper.
'How...'
Pulling it out, the man gulped as he gazed upon its contents.
Surely enough, an address was written on the paper.
However it was the words following this that made a vein burst on the forehead of the man.
[Banquet for all]
[Time - tonight at 8 PM]
[Submit or fight.]
[Those are your only options.]
[Failure to appear will be considered the latter.]
[Make sure the pathetic man and his child come as well, kay?]
[All business will be accepted.]
----
Gus had never been so humiliated in his life.
'By a woman at that...'
Whenever he had pulled out a rifle on someone, they had always frozen in fear.
They would do exactly as he said, never making a peep as he ordered them to do whatever he wanted.
This was particularly so if they had children to protect.
But that woman had looked his rifle straight through the barrel without flinching.
She had claimed that the safety was on to distract him, but in reality it was off.
Had he pulled the trigger at that moment, he would have killed her.
'So how did she know I wouldn't have?'
And then, while he was distracted after he had attacked her, she must have somehow gotten ahold of the safety while simultaneously planting the paper on him.
It was infuriating.
It was as if she knew exactly what he would be paying attention to, and when.
Like she could predict his every action - as if she had already seen them before.
'That ain't possible.'
But even so, he wasn't about to give up an opportunity to redeem himself.
That woman was confident. Too confident.
'I'll wipe that wretched smirk right off her face... with this.'
Patting his weapon, the man prepared himself to go.
"Hey. Get yer kid ready."
"Eh? Did... did something happen? Are we... actually going to where that woman-"
"Shut up if you don't want a bullet in your skull."
With these words, Gus silenced the father, though his attention was elsewhere.
"We're going to a party... and it's about to get real fun."
----
Submit or fight.
These are your only options.
Failure to appear will be considered the latter.
These words, which had been given to Gus on the letter that the woman had left behind, suggested that this was no mere banquet.
Rather, it was a collection of people.
The woman had stated that she was going around looking for survivors. She had even gone as far as to rush off in search of more people, so Gus was certainly not her only target.
If she was just some do-gooder who wanted to help out the father and his daughter, she would have done something then and there - but she didn't.
Her intentions were elsewhere.
'Which means... she's rotten to the core.'
A woman who would overlook the suffering of others while fulfilling her own agenda, living only for herself without a shred of morality.
Gus was aware that he was no hero.
Raised in the countryside, he was a poacher by trade. While he had been raised with the intention of becoming a hunter, hunting didn't pay the same as poaching.
So he had made a career change after leaving his father's home.
He had lived alone most of his life, making ends meet with the funds he made. It wasn't exactly lively, but the police never poked around places where there weren't any people.
Unfortunately, the cataclysm changed things.
The undead had eliminated most of the people that he did business with, so he was forced instead to put his talent with the gun to use in the City.
Living in the countryside would have been an option for him, but Gus wouldn't have become a poacher if he didn't want to live in luxury.
And who knew that the people in the City would be so pathetically weak?
The first man he had found was someone who was desperately tied to his daughter. His wife and son had died from the virus, and the man was terrified of even stepping outside.
Gus had originally saved the man's life from the undead that were bombarding his home, but he didn't do such a thing for free. He demanded payment for his services - and that payment came with serving him.
If the man died trying to serve him, then he would have paid him back with his life. If not, he would pay him back in other ways.
At some point, the daughter had become a hostage of sorts. Gus realized that he could use the girl to get the man to do whatever he wanted, no matter how dangerous.
It worked out nicely.
However, the man's use was limited.
If Gus continued to tell him to bring food and supplies, the man would eventually die. He couldn't hold a gun for anything, and sneaking around was all a coward like him was capable of.
'Looks like it was about time for a wake up call.'
As Gus and the two made their way through the streets, the father held his girl in his arms - just three or four years old and still small enough to carry.
Gus had never dealt with other people in particular, but he wasn't oblivious enough not to understand that the woman he met was no ordinary person.
"Er... do you happen to know just what's going to happen? Or why that woman invited us to that address, for that matter?"
"It was a threat."
Without a moment of hesitation, Gus responded to the worries of the father.
"A threat!? What do you mean by that!?"
"If we don't go, we're gonna be makin' an enemy of her and whatever group she has goin' on. But more importantly, she said somethin' about doin' business. I need to find out what her deal is before I blow her brains out. That's all."
The father became silent at this response, his face becoming pale as he realized the implications of such a situation.
"S-surely you won't get us involved in any conflict-"
"If I decide to fight 'em it'll be on my own. I ain't gonna involve you and yer daughter."
With a smirk, the man gripped the hilt of his gun as he walked.
"I ain't that corrupted."
With a sigh of relief, the father's concerns dispelled, yet even so he looked to Gus with concern.
"But is there truly a reason for you to fight them in the first place? If they want to do business, then-"
"Are you really a City slicker? Can't fathom that you'd be this sheltered when yer surrounded by all those gangs. This ain't gonna be no bargain sale. When these people say they want to do business, they mean people. Humans. Slaves. Hell, she told me explicitly to bring you two. Just why do you think that is?"
"You mean-!"
"Darn right. She thought I'd show up to sell the two of ya. Probably fetch a pretty penny too. Maybe I should consider it?"
"Please don't joke like that..."
"Do I look like I'm jokin?"
While the serious expression of the redneck provoked concern within the father, the man's laughter soon broke the tension.
"Heh... I don't have taste that bad yet. If it were life and death I might consider something like that, but not right now. More importantly... that's one big building, ain't it?"
Turning a corner, the three bore witness to it.
A massive hotel, towering above the cityscape with a height that far exceeded many of the buildings around it.
"Don't see nothing like that in the parts I'm from, that's fer sure."
And while the buildings surrounded this structure appeared to be desolate places of corruption and abandonment, this one flared with life.
For atop this building, a neon sign was in order - lit with electricity unlike any of the other places in this City of the dead.
And the words which displayed themselves were enough to send shivers down the spines of all three people.
[Welcome to Paradise]