ズﾉﾚﾚひムの刀
͓̽F͓̽a͓͓̽̽n͓͓̽̽t͓̽a͓͓̽̽s͓͓̽̽y͓̽ ͓̽K͓͓̽̽i͓͓̽̽l͓͓̽̽l͓͓̽̽u͓͓̽̽G͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽n͓̽
Killua has died once already.
In every history book, there's a chapter of the infamous Killua Zoldyck: The face of the cover is blurry, as if the artist was unsure...
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7,700 words.
"There's nobody to play with me anymore, but you'll play with me, won't you?"
Gon could not refrain from the horror-struck expression on his face. His heart sinks, and tears threaten to breach the wavering surface, but just as he reaches to help the child, Killua places a hand firmly on his shoulders, stopping Gon in his tracks.
Killua directs the full weight of his attention on the child. "Who are you?" he demands.
The girl's face scrunches, rosy cheeks puffing with a finger to her lips. "Shh! You'll wake the bad doggies."
Killua grits his teeth and in one swift motion, picks up the girl by the back collar of her dress. "This isn't the time to be screwing around!" he spits out.
"Put me down!" The girl flails, kicking her legs and reaching to yank on the archmage's cloak.
"What happened to this place?" Gon asks, trying to sound more reassuring than his familiar, who's still dangling the child.
"The warlock needed sacrifices of those whose eyes are red." She smiles innocently. "Your heart is good and true. It'll be the biggest sacrifice, too!"
Not a moment later, Killua releases his grip on her dress collar, dropping her without a care. She lands with an oof, then skips away cheerfully as if nothing ever happened. Killua scoffs, kicking a pebble. "Tch, I doubt that freak did this."
Gon glowers, eyes trailing after the girl as she resumes her game of hopscotch. She sings the same tune over and over and over again, her ruffled dress bouncing to and from. Her gaze ignores the pig corpses, or the blood of wounded townsfolk, or the red-eyed shadows.
This place reeks of death.
"She's beyond saving, you know," Killua interjects. He probably noticed Gon staring too long.
Gon doesn't budge.
Killua sighs. "The best thing we can do for them is release this curse."
"Yeah."
Killua begins trudging off, and Gon decides to follow closely behind. The archmage grabs a commoner, lugging him over his shoulder, and Gon does the same. They search for a cottage with no broken windows or bashed doors, gathering the unprotected citizens to a safe area. Many of the battered shelters had trails of blood dragging into the deep woods, likely the doing of a wolf or another feral creature.
Finally, they reach the town hall. Stained glass windows spiral colors of dismal green, faded yellow, and toneless gray, while aged duskwood, carved the shape of a dragon, fiercely protects the opening arch. Crows perch above, vacant eyes watching their every move.
Killua takes his first step inside, scarcely searching the place. "We can stay here until sunrise. I doubt it's perfectly safe, but I'm sure it's safer inside than out here." The familiar's lingering gaze catches onto a trail of bloodied footprints that lead to an open door at the far end of the hall. He follows it cautiously until spiral stairs come into vision, stairs leading down into the eerie abyss.
