Every Sin Has Its Price

Prologue - Facade

Prologue-

Dark water churned against the corroded shore, striking against the still shifting sand. Amongst the rubble lay an unmoving woman, pale skin wrapped tightly over her bones, malnourishment easily apparent. Thick eyelashes remained shut over her protruding cheekbones, and her lips were cracked and crusted with long since dried blood. However, this was not the only blood lying on her person, the crimson substance was splattered all along her slight, weakened frame staining a simple, yet elegant, blouse. 

Stirring slightly, she opened her eyes slowly, blinking away any and all remaining traces of unconsciousness. Sunken blue eyes peered out from behind lowered eyelids, adjusting to the dim rays of sunlight overhead. Sifting her fingers through the course sand, she quietly tested her arms and legs to check if they were all in proper working order.

Stiff, but not unmanageable, she soon decided with a short laugh.

Her arms trembled with the effort of pushing herself of the ground, but once sitting up she cast her eyes out to see if she had any company. Had anyone been there they would have quickly noted the lack of pupils in her sharp gaze, quickly unnerving the usual passerby. But the young woman was alone, secluded by the surrounding sea. The afore-mentioned water curled at her exposed bare feet, chilling the already cold limbs. Despite that, her slight facial features settled into a vicious manic grin. With this, she allowed her mind to wander back to her last few....escapades.

A young man stumbling out of a bar, so heavily intoxicated as to not notice her presence until she spoke directly to him, addressing him several times before he finally responded. It had taken little convincing to get him to follow her, after all she was a rather attractive woman. In his stupor he had realized all too late what her true intentions were. A knife through the back almost always made mortals realize how dire the situation they had unknowingly gotten themselves into was. Just before death some blubbered about loved ones, some cursed her being, few muttered about God. Most just stared back at her glassy-eyed, blood pooling in steady streams around their crumpled body.

But her killing sprees had been abruptly cut short, apparently someone upstairs didn't quite find homicide quite as amusing as she herself did. (No one generally did; when she told people this to see their reaction, they often attempted to flee.) So an angel had came from what was told to be Heaven, and had judged her 'accordingly'. In this case 'accordingly' meant the ending of her own life. (At the time all she could think was "I'm American, aren't I entitled to a trial?" )

As promised they had indeed followed up on their less than vague threat. The holy had condemned and damned her, and she had learned with interest that Hell was covered in ice, not fire. The pain was of little consequence, after all when one is freezing it certainly feels as if you are slowly burning.

And yet....here she was, seemingly alive and in the flesh. Certainly not a miracle ( miracles stood for kind, good things, she thought) but she was highly impressed and elated to have been revived. Another bout of  insane laughter escaped from her lips. Only then did she notice a large white feather had drifted into her line of sight, slowly swirling in lazy circles until it landed onto the ground. And only then did she begin to worry about something or someone comprimising her lifespan again.

The dread only increased when the gentle sound of flapping could be heard overhead, growing louder by the minute until it drowned out all other sounds. (But perhaps that was only due to paranoia). Nervousness made her twitch involuntarily; when she looked to her hands they were trembling, betraying her growing fear. Swallowing dryly, she finally gave in and chanced glancing up.

A familiar face held a grim expression, his mouth in a carefully pressed line, trying not to express any emotion. In spite of being scared witless she thought the face didn't quite suit the personality of the man. But did she even know him outside him being the same angel whom destroyed her before? Still.....guilt pooled in her stomach (alongside the dread of course) upon seeing the youth look so distraught. Upon inspecting closer she saw he had tears in his eyes, yet to be shed.

His tone had a hint of steel in it. "Back again are we? D'you know who brought you back?" The words were spoken casually, as if he wasn't about to execute her. Black strands of hair floated into her vision as she shook her head mutely.

"...I do not. I awoke not long ago, if you wish for specifics." She averted his gaze purposefully, attempting to not have to deal with him any longer. All she wanted was to be alone now, to curl up and forget the world. His appearance seems to have affected my mood shifts, she noted dully.

He twisted the blade in his hands, the intricate runes carved into the side glowing faintly. "I'll assume you're speaking the truth." He took a sharp intake of breath, and lifted the sword upward, poised to strike. Shimmering green eyes looked her over for a moment, sizing her up. " You appear to not have any weapons. Am I correct in assuming so?"

"If I did I would have already attempted to kill you already," she lied smoothly, the words feeling heavy on her tongue. The man's mouth dipped into a small frown.

"Are you ready then?" If being asked if you are prepared to die could be polite, then this was an excellent example.

"What a question to ask a lady. Truly a gentleman aren't we?" she said, tone deliberately sarcastic. The youth opposite of her flicked his sandy brown hair and snorted softly, as if chuckling under his breath.

"Ah, I see you're stalling. Haven't lost that certain way of yours, no matter what happens, eh Cless?" Cless didn't understand what he meant by 'that way of hers' and certainly didn't expect him to know her name, but she answered him none the less.

"Never." She watched as his eyes trailed back to look at the gleaming sword, watched his face fall ever so slightly. " I suppose I'm ready as I will ever be, to answer your earlier question." Suddenly her feet were a very interesting sight to behold.

"Before I.....kill....you, can I ask you one question?" She nodded, her eyes never leaving the ground. " You don't remember me at all, do you?" This time she again shook her head. "...Alright, I guess it's better that way."

Cless didn't see the blade swing around to greet her exposed stomach, only heard the whoosh of the displaced air, and the inevitable sting of the blade lodging into her body, the seraph blade burning her as it sliced her open. The skin painfully dissolved around it, turning to ashes before her. The remaining skin followed suit, the breeze blowing the ashes elsewhere. Dimly, as if in an out of body experience, she heard herself scream, saw the boy close his eyes trying to block reality out. 

Heard him mumble, as if recorded and ingrained into his mind, "Every sin has it's price."

Then nothing. Nothing except darkness.