Feitan x Reader; Tangled in a Web of Spiders

Before the Spider Part 2

So, as you may have guessed there are trigger warnings for child abuse, character death, gore...

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Naturally, it was Chrollo, soft "everybody's friend Chrollo", who read the message scribbled on the note. Of course it was Chrollo, tears mixing with the rain pouring down his face, who'd stood under the bag to catch it after Uvo climbed up to cut the ropes that held it. It was Chrollo who sat in a puddle of muddy water, opening the bag, and Chrollo who was the first to see its contents.

They'd all reacted differently. Paku and Sheila had been wailing like they were the ones having been torn apart. Nobu just repeated 'That can't be Sarasa, can it?', and Uvo, furious, demanded to know what that note had said. What those murderous bastards had written. They'd all wanted to know, but Chrollo had refused to tell anyone.

'I won't say it,' he said stubbornly. 'Never! I'll take those words to my grave!'

Back then Chrollo had been the only one of them who could read and once the note had disintegrated in the rain there was no chance of asking anybody else to do it. As far as Feitan knew, Chrollo had kept his word and had never shared that message with anyone. Not that they hadn't tried to coax it out of him, or even threatened him, but he'd kept his mouth shut, lips pressed together as the kind light in his eyes had been replaced with cold determination. That light had never returned. Not to any of them.

Most of the others only glanced at the bag, not wanting to see, but curious Feitan had hovered over it, standing first next to Chrollo and then Machi as she cradled what was left of her friend. The sole of a foot, a hand, a severed piece of a thigh where the bone was sticking up from the fleshy meat, tendons, and ligaments visible where the cut had been made. The head, still with its usual pigtails, now resting on a pile of other body parts, another note nailed to the already bruised forehead.

But while the others were shocked, even nauseous by the sight, he'd felt something else stir inside him. Something darker. A deep fascination for how a living body could be reduced to something as small and broken as this. What would it take? What tools, how much pain, and how much fear would be needed? To turn a human being into neat parts like this. To reveal the secrets of a body, turn it into such an intriguing picture. There was a certain beauty to it, and he let his fingers trail along the curve of a cold bloodless foot before Machi closed the bag and wiped at her tears with her arm, demanding that Uvo carry Sarasa home. To be properly buried.

In a way, Sarasa had been the first Troupe member to be buried. Paku had been the last.

Then there was Uvo. They never found his body. Still, that meant that it was buried well, and Uvo wouldn't have cared either way. He wouldn't have wanted everybody standing around all sad and moping. No, he'd wanted a big noisy party, and Chrollo had made sure he'd gotten one. A requiem suiting him and the Troupe. A bloodbath and a theft so huge it'd be spoken about for decades. Feitan grinned. Yes, Uvo would have been pleased. They still needed to find and kill the Chain-bastard, but there'd be plenty of time for that too. Other bastards took priority for now.

The fire had burned out just before the first signs of golden color appeared in the sky, only ashes and a few pieces of lumps of charcoal remaining, barely filling the shallow hole they'd piled the wood in. Traditional Meteor City style. Funeral pyres had saved him from the cold more than once when he'd first arrived there. Before he'd met Phinks and the others. Now Franklin and Nobu shoveled the dirt back, adding enough to create a low mound, flattening it into a pleasing shape.

Surprised Feitan saw Franklin bring two buckets of water that he poured over it. To prevent the fire from spreading? No, the dirt alone should be enough to make sure it couldn't spring back to life.