Tarte au Agrumes {A Bullet Train Fanfiction}

You Lie Awake (With Thoughts of Murder and Carnage)

Summary:

An interaction. An attraction. And (blood?)lust.

A/N:

Hi everyone!

I am back!

I had a time of it trying to get my latest novel ready for publishing, but now that's out of the way I can get back to some fics! I hope you enjoy my weird little psychopaths.

DISCLAIMER: Any mental illness depicted may or may not be accurate. I try my best to research symptoms, but I am not an expert and often base things on my own experiences. This is a dark story and as the author I do not agree with all the things the characters do, say, or believe. Trigger warnings are in the tags. You have been warned, read at your own risk.

***

Warm blankets and soft pillows quickly turned into a torturous prison as Clementine's alarm clock rang out loudly in the pale light of early morning. Slapping her hand over the machine, she dragged herself from her bed and into her closet to piece together her outfit for the day. As she did so, her foot caught on something piled on her otherwise spotless closet floor.

Reaching down, she realized it was her dress from the previous night – torn to shreds and bloodied. It was a teal, strappy little thing she never would have picked out for herself, but Father Gregory had insisted she play to her targets' basest natures. It made them all the more fun to eviscerate later.

And she had needed hours in the shower to scrub the evidence from her body. The memory caused a small, sleepy smile to grace her lips.

It had been a satisfying job and she had rid the world of a few more sinners – a few more demons. She couldn't ask for anything more, except... another new job. She had just gotten back from one and already she was itching to kill again.

Her cooldown period used to be a whole lot longer. But the Twins had to move in next door and make things difficult. She never minded taking jobs back-to-back when they needed doing, but the urge was always kept under better control. Clementine couldn't keep going like this.

It would kill her.

And she needed to kill the White Death and destroy his operations before that happened. She was bound by more than just divine commandments. Her father and mother deserved to be avenged. They had done nothing to warrant what fate had spat down upon them, and she would right the wrongs of the man who caused their suffering. Those wrongs would be righted with the White Death's blood.

She could practically taste it – could feel it seeping between her teeth and gums.

His death would be ecstasy. It would be Heaven. Divine retribution.

God used people like her to enact his will, and Clementine was an all too willing participant.

Carefully, Clementine transferred the bloody dress to the kitchen and placed it in a trash bag. Later, she would pull some of her old things from her closet to place on top and bring them to Father Gregory as a "donation". He had someone on call to dispose of items that could be traced back to her. It would be detrimental if she were caught doing it herself.

Moments later she was downstairs preparing the fresh pastries for the day. Her cousin, Annabelle – a sweet, but shy girl with auburn curls and eyes the same shade of hazel Clementine possessed herself – would be in any minute to help bake and prepare the coffees and teas for the morning rush. Clementine loved her shop; she loved the smells and repetitive nature of baking. She loved the books, and the smiles of happy customers when she selected the perfect one for them.