hh that took so long exactly 666 words let's gooo ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- trigger warnings: blood ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A STEW AT THE END OF THE WORLD Blood pooled under her feet, creating a platform with which to walk. She strode forwards, head held high, in between the waterfalls of blood falling slowly from the crucified bodies floating in the air. The orb on the table swirled softly. The large chair behind it was empty with shadows, but she knew still he was there, waiting, watching. “Kage.” He sneered at her, having appeared suddenly into existence. “And what business do you have here?” She smiled sweetly. The golden flower in her hair glimmered, drawing his attention to it. No weapon in hand, but one always in reach. “I just thought you’d like to know,” Death began, stepping closer. “We’ve signed on a Replacement.” Kage’s face slipped with distress, but quickly hardened back into arrogance as he leaned back in his chair. “You’ve done no such thing,” he hissed, clenching the sides of his chair so that it hardened under his touch, the surface around his fingertips sliding back into blood. “You can feel it, can’t you?” She looked up at him calmly. Standing tall, the god and the demon, you could see his confidence slipping away. “One of you has to go.” Kage stiffened visibly now. “And may she be the one to fall.” “You were never chosen. You have no power.” Death stared at him, resolute, and it took a moment for him to respond as hate deepened the lines in his face. “Still some of the old spunky you, isn’t there?” he bit out, clenching his jaw. “She didn’t die for you to be here right now.” And it was these soft words that broke him, the orb on the table collapsing into a puddle. As it rebuilt itself, he trembled, glaring at her. “They weren’t just going to sit placidly under you,” Death warned, still smiling pleasantly. You’ve got something coming, and I’m not sure you’re prepared.” This snapped him out of it, and he leaned forwards, shaking. “I can take whatever they can throw at me.” “Not so much what they can throw as what they can afford,” responded Death slyly. And with that, she left him sitting. The ground began to shake. Sister Rosa spooned some ground-up spices into a pot, stirring in some diced vegetables. The water bubbled, and she leaned forwards, taking in the smell. Her curled blonde hair was pulled back in a white bonnet, head coverings not needed within the Sisters’ small community. She was kneeling outside of her home in front of her cooking fire. Sugar dust stained her white cotton robes, and she dusted it off lightly, humming. Sister Miriam strode over softly, bare feet padding on the ground. She smiled at the pot and sat down next to Sister Rosa, leaning in to smell the stew. “You’re getting better,” she complimented slyly, grinning slightly at Rosa. “Thank you,” Rosa replied, stirring the soup again. “Did you need something?” “Just a little news,” Miriam said. She put her hands together in her lap and tilted her head. “The Lady’s got a job.” Rosa sat up straighter, startled. “Really?” “Really,” Miriam repeated. “Would you like to see the job file?” “Y-yes, please.” Rosa stuttered slightly, turning over to Miriam to study the aged piece of parchment she held in front of her. She frowned. “That’s an odd case.” “Not the oddest,” responded Miriam as she fixed a strand of black hair that had slipped loose from her bonnet. “That’s why it’s so strange that she’s taking it. Any one of us could have done it, so why waste her time?” “I don’t know,” Rosa mused. “It’s as you always say: Lady Helia’s a mystery, and only those who have been here since the beginning may hope to understand her.” Miriam sat there, thinking. “Let me try the soup,” she said at last. Rosa fumbled for the handle of the ladle, holding it up to her lips. The two dead women sat there, sharing a stew, as above the stars began to chip away.
