Future of Calamity [Under Rewrite]

Chapter 11 - Autotomy

'After the Advent, the exorcists showed up to "quell the tide of daemons" and "restore the human world". But daemonblight keeps spreading, and the only places they can keep safe are a few major cities.'

'And when the going's get tough, cut off the excess baggage. It's the "reasonable thing to do".'

'I suppose so, but it's too heartless. And that right there, that's the Abbey for you.'

The words of the residents of Beardsley echoed throughout her mind, as they scoured the gentle rocky surface of the Hadlow Hollow. Trekking through the winding caverns of gleaming stone - the repetitive trudge through icy waters and pungent liquids - the silence was deafening. "Hey Velvet... Can I ask you a question?" the samurai began, a serious look switching onto his face. At his words, the daemoness stopped her pace. Until, she felt something knock right into her back. Turning with a scowl, all the half-malak could see was too searing golden orbs in the darkness.

Unfortunately, this was a drawback of being part-human. He couldn't see in the dark like his comrades could.

As Sarid put on an apologetic smile when he noticed the scowl, Velvet turned back to answer the question. "You can ask whatever you want, but just because you ask doesn't mean you're getting an answer," she rudely responded with an uninterested expression.

Rokurou wasn't deterred however, as he quickly thought back to what took place a while back. "So... about that... whole apple thing." The mention immediately placed a frown upon her features. "You can't taste anything?"

Her gaze was hard. "...Not entirely," she mused with a calous look. "I can taste blood." Through the dark, she caught sight of Sarid's face of realisation, but didn't press for answers.

"Nothing else?" the samurai contemplated with a grimace.

"Nothing. And I don't think I can feel full, either."

"You don't think? You talk like you haven't eaten a good meal before."

Velvet looked on stoically, her sight focused on a memory, not of the sharded outcrop before her. "I haven't. Not normal food, anyway. Not since I became a daemon."

The samurai's face was unreadable, "So... what have you been eating?" Something told her he already knew, but seeked a specific answer from her. She ignored the malak's uncomfortable look filled with sympathy; a look that turned up the heat in her blood.

"Please, you both were in that prison with me. Where do you think they brought those struggling daemon's, where even the worst, pleaded for anything else?" A predatory fire was set alight at the back of her eyes, and the malak shied away as her caged arm twitched once again.

"...the Wolf's Den," Sarid thought aloud.

Rokurou's face flashed with instant understanding. "I'm... sorry."

"...I apologise for my words back there. I never knew what you went through," the half-malak's apology was sudden, but unimportant.

"Forget it, you suspected something anyway. Save your pity, this is just what I am now." Even through her harsh rejection and steely composure, they both noticed the hurt she smothered. "If we need food, give me a recipe and I can still cook... I don't even have to worry about how it tastes now."

The two stayed silent as she set her eyes on the rest of the cavern, turning in conflicted silence.

"Move, malak. This wolf bites," she warned with another glare. Noticing how he was in the way, Sarid scooted to the side with a disgruntled wince as she brushed past and strutted onward to search for that lizard daemon, the clinking of metal reverberating in tandem with the droplets of ice.
_________________________________________