bones and blades

copycat copycat

[TW: Blood, graphic description, swords/weapons, please do not read further if this concerns you!]

 It plagued her all night long. She rustled anxiously in her blankets, rolling over to glance at the clock.

1:03 AM

Sighing, she picked up the cellphone resting on her bedside table and tapped a quick message to Giroro. The bright screen stabbed at her barely open eyes, and her grip around it was quite lose due to how unawake she was. 

Her mind was a mess right now. The drowsiness, the discomfort, and the pain eventually melded together into what felt like a rock in her stomach. There was something she needed to get off her chest- something she needed to tell someone, anyone. A problem arose with the words she was dying to speak, however. 

She had a sudden spark in her clouded mind, causing her to jump out of her bed and begin rummaging through her drawers. After a while of digging, she located exactly what she was looking for. She withdraw the long sheathe carefully before lighting a candle and bringing it with her next to the mirror.

Carefully opening it, she watched the bright silver sword slip right out of the wooden casing. It gleamed beautifully in the dim candlelight. She placed it in front of her and began to feel around for something on her head, eventually running her hand across the two developing bumps on top of it. The sword was almost calling to her, pulling her mind closer to it, begging to be used for that one purpose…

With rapid motion, Zeroro swung the sword straight across the top of her hat, striking the bumps perfectly. She took a stride forward as she let them fall slowly to the floor like petals. The blade only persisted, it only pressured her more forward towards her goal. 

Zeroro grasped the long, thin flaps of her hat and grasped onto them tightly, near to the point of tears. She bit down hard on her lip, preparing for the pain to come when the sword met her bare flesh. 

Placing the blood coated blade back into its sheathe, she stared at herself in the mirror, admiring her new appearance. No bumps, no long, feminine ears…it was all gone. She was soon interrupted, however, by blood trickling down into her eyes.

The color made her sick. She flung herself against the floor in a panic. It seemed so noisy in her mind, almost as if it was screeching at her internally to undo what she had done. The pain kicked in strong as ever and the screeching soon became audible. 

“Zeroro? Is everything okay?”

Zeroro hesitated before raising her head up from the floor and looking over at her mother, her mask near to falling off her face. The blood continued to drip steadily from her head and ears. Her mother gasped as a sliver of light shed onto her face, revealing the damage she had done, and the weapon she had done so with.

“Mama, I’m sorry…”