The Silence of a Somber Day

Mist - Scylla Interlude

There is a certain resolve that every assassin eventually comes to learn. A one-off killer will find themselves trapped in labyrinths of what-if and guilt. Those who are trained and given a target retain a calm determination to accomplish the task. No matter how goofy or over the top their personality may be, in the moment of a kill, that single second when the last spark of life is squashed, brings bitter, cold satisfaction to an assassin that will never grow warmer even as the body count reaches higher numbers.

An assassin by trade, Scylla is no exception to this rule. Like her namesake, she has no qualms about eliminating those who dared get too close to her corner of the waters.

Scylla was born to a pair of pirates. After a few months of sea, her parents docked for the last time with the crew, and prepared to live a peaceful life in a village by the seashore to raise their daughter. This didn't bode well with another member of the crew who sought after Scylla's mother. After a night of drinking during the farewell party, the jealous member poisoned Scylla's mother and slaughtered her father, leaving the child an orphan.

Seeing the one he loved in Scylla's eyes, he volunteered to stay behind to raise Scylla after his guilt was not proven over the murders. The captain didn't want another one of their crew to leave, but relented under the hopes that Scylla and the crew mate would return when the baby was of proper age for seafaring.

Scylla was taught the ways of the sea, and by her teenage years, she was more competent in water than on land. It helped that Scylla's powers manifested as hydraulic manipulation. Scylla actively looked for and fought sea creatures until there was no fighting style she didn't have a basic idea of.

On her fourteenth birthday, Scylla learned the truth of her parents and their murderer. In a fit of rage, Scylla drowned the man she once loved like her own father. Even when his body had grown cold, Scylla felt not an ounce of guilt. She played like it was accident to the villagers, and before she left the town permanently, she destroyed the man's grave as a final act of defiance.

Scylla became a mercenary at this age, traveling along the coast to take odd jobs. Most were retrieving goods from shipwrecks, or fighting some sharks or other sea monsters, but Scylla never backed down when asked to murder someone for righteousness or vengeance. Scylla made a name and living for herself.

Word spread until a hero and his sidekick came to capture Scylla. She outmaneuvered them, but fell for the sidekick as soon as their eyes met. Scylla pledged her loyalty to the sidekick, and made a deal: Scylla would turn herself in for one kiss from the sidekick. The sidekick accepted the deal, but let Scylla go free in the hopes they would meet again.

When Scylla came to L'Manberg, she found work as an assassin for the Syndicate. While she usually worked for the highest bidder, Scylla developed a close friendship with some of the members, prompting her full allegiance to the cause. She was able to reunite with her beloved, and the two promised to be wed once the Syndicate had accomplished its mission.

That was in the past, and the last thing on Scylla's mind. The whispering of that device, the crystal egg, filled Scylla's thoughts. All reason or rationality was override with orders to kill one man and pure instincts. Scylla didn't know who was in control of her body, but she lacked the sentience to care. That egg had completely taken over Scylla's mind. She was a puppet now, and no amount of willpower was allowing her to break free. Scylla couldn't recognize that she wanted freedom with how thick the mind control was.

Finding her target was easy. She knew where he was at by instinct alone, like some part of her mind knew where he was. Breaking into his apartment was slightly harder but not complicated. Scylla twisted her hand slowly, beads of water from the potted plants around the fire escape balcony coming together into a sphere. Scylla moved her finger along the bottom pane of the window, and the water followed her directions, seeping beneath the wood. Scylla brought both hands up, concentrating on pushing the water upwards despite the gravity pulling the water and the window down. Eventually, a small crack appeared, large enough for Scylla to push her fingers through and pry the window open by brute force.

Scylla dropped into the apartment, eyes peeled for the target. She was in a bathroom, and an empty one at that. Scylla rolled her eyes. She turned the faucet on the sink into a quiet trickle, using her powers to put the water into another sphere, ready for manipulation. Scylla turned the faucet off when she thought that she had enough.

Scylla continued her trek into the apartment. She kept her footsteps quiet as she peeked into each room, eyes searching for the target. Since it was a small apartment with a few rooms, Scylla found the bedroom rather quickly. Scylla snapped her fingers, and the water flowed into the shape of a dagger. Scylla aimed at the target, his back turned to her and asleep, before shooting the dagger at him.

Scylla shouldn't have expected it to be that easy.

The target flew up from his spot before the dagger struck, a large blanket thrown at Scylla to disorient her. Scylla threw the blanket off after fighting it for awhile, searching for the target. Since the element of surprise was gone, this wasn't an assassination but a fist fight. Or a knife fight Scylla thought when she saw the dagger her target brandished. Scylla summoned her water dagger back into hand as fast as she could, solidifying it into a gel-like state. It wasn't liquid water or ice but something in between. Scylla and her targets blades slammed against each other, sliding off in a parry so the twirled around each other to take the position of the enemy.

Scylla swung her dagger using her hand, and her target jumped back to dodge before raising the knife in a defensive position. Scylla backed up, raising the water up in her own hand. She meet the arctic blue eyes of her target, and something stirred within Scylla. A memory, a love for the salty sea that was spread out before her, a woman that made Scylla want to be better for her, a boy that laughed relentlessly, a man that showed her genuine kindness. It was a moment that served to make Scylla more furious as the mind control corrupted her once more.

Almost foolishly, Scylla threw her dagger at the target, hoping that he would take the hint and die. He didn't die even if he probably understood the intent behind the throw. He used his own dagger to ricochet the blade into the space behind him. He threw how own dagger back at her, and Scylla pushed the blade out of her way with her hand. Scylla would have gotten into a fighting stance if small arms hadn't wrapped around her waist.

"I'm not giving up on you, Niki," The target mumbled into Scylla's dark costume that was meant to hide her in shadows. Instead she was being seen and felt by a person. Scylla couldn't understand the target that clung to her, holding back tears after swearing that he wouldn't give up on someone Scylla didn't know.

She flicked the dagger back, the gelled blade striking her target in the back. Blood spurted out before lowering into a fast flow on his back that partly soaked into his clothes. Her target breathed in sharply, clinging to her tighter. "No matter what you do, you are my sister. I tell myself that I don't care, and I try to convince myself to abandon you, but I can't because we're closer than that. I know this isn't you, Niki."

Scylla felt a tremor rise in her spine. Who the hell was Niki? Could that be... was it her?

dlihc ym ,t'nsi tI

That voice. That wasn't Scylla. That was something else inside her head. Scylla didn't know if it should be there or not. Scylla moved her hands, and the gel started to grow thicker, opening the wound wider. The target didn't release his grip. "Niki! Come back to me! Come back to Wilbur and Puffy and Sam and Fran! We care about you, so much more than you know."

A friend that had cared about Scylla when she didn't know what friendship was. A sidekick that allowed Scylla to experience genuine and healthy love. A man that cared about Niki like she was his own daughter, respecting and complimenting her in paternal adoration. A teenage boy who harbored a terrible grief he dared not to talk about, but had allowed Niki into his arms even when she was trying to kill him.

"Tommy," Niki breathed as the dagger turned into liquid water slamming against the wooden planks of the floor. Tommy collapsed in her arms, and blood was everywhere: both of their clothes, the floor, soaked in the water that soaked the soles of their shoes. "Wait... wait! I'm sorry. Please be okay."