tear you apart, kaz brekker (discon.)

i. what is and what should never be

01. chapter one!
what is & what should never be.

trigger warning:
mentions of death.

A sick, almost acidic feeling coated the inside of her stomach, her mouth ran dry and it felt as though the walls of the carriage were slowly closing in on her. "G-G... Ghost?" Her words fell on deaf ears, the only thing she could hear was blood gurgling. She held her gloved hand over her mouth, attempting to stop herself from vomiting at the sight before her; Katarina was used to violence, she washed blood from her hands every night before she 'slept'. It wasn't nothing new.

Aleskander would've scolded her for such a reaction, she had no connection to the Ghost, at least not a real one.

"Such a silly things are emotions," He complained, harshly twist the water out of the cloth before he wiped her face clean. A young Katarina winced at the motion. "Solntse, listen to me," 

She hates that nickname, Katarina wasn't a sun summoner and she knew that disappointed him, it felt cruel to literally call her sun.

"You did the right thing."

"I killed him." She muttered, her eyes wide as the tears that once brimmed it fell on to her cheeks. That was the first time she had said it without stuttering in the thirty minutes since it had happened.

"Hey," He cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him. "Some people deserve to die. He was no exception to that, he was going to hurt you."

"He... He was?" He wasn't.

Aleskander pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, humming in agreement before he pressed his forehead to her own. "Trust me, little one. He was a bad man."

Thirteen year olds shouldn't have been praised for killing innocent people, Katarina failed to recognised the manipulation at such an age, understandably so. It didn't matter to her now, she was no longer doing a grown man's dirty work for him, and she wasn't the monster he had wanted her to be but most importantly it wasn't her fault.

The Ghost's death wasn't on her. Was it?

The growing stench of death seemed to pull her back to reality, taking a moment to steady her breathing she listened out. Placing her left hand over her thigh, expecting her blade to be there and sighing when it wasn't, of course she had left the pub without a single weapon. She stopped. It was too quiet outside, too quiet for it to be safe.

There was only one knife in sight. Katarina groaned quietly as she looked over to the body that lay lifeless on the floor, falling from the impact. Rigour mortis had clearly set in as the man's skin seemed to have a pale blue hue rather than the olive complexion he once had.

Exhaling deeply, the dark haired girl leaned forwards and begrudgingly pulled the blade from The Ghost's temple. She involuntarily gagged, the blood was thick and clearly clotted. Livor mortis, she thought to herself. Mustering up all the confidence she had, (which was more than enough), Katarina pushed open the door to the carriage. She was once again rendered speechless, the two men who rode with them, usually up front, were dead as well as the two guards who typically rode on the back of the carriage. It was clear they were taken out first, presumably because of their position.