Heaven's Empress ||COMPLETE||

|1| The Maiden in the Tower

Normally, my day begins with a scream. Whose it is determines my mood for the day. On a typically good day, the scream is from someone else; death is an everyday occurrence in the higher levels of Heaven's Arena, and even more so a broken arm or foot.

Today was not a good day.

My fingers gripped the edges of my steel bed as sweat drenched my nightgown. My knuckles were turning white as I finally fully woke up and silenced myself. I shook the nightmare out of my hair and sat up.

I stared mindlessly outside my large glass window; it was still dark out -  death hung over the city like a black mist. A bit further down, the sun was peeking out from one of the smaller skyscrapers.

Twilight, or dawn - I turned towards the many screens on the other side of my room that showed various fights throughout the tower and saw that there wasn't a lot of matches going on. Dawn it was then. Everyone knew that the true battles only start after eight.

I stumbled into the bathroom, bleary eyed and still sweating profusely; the cold-drops of moisture ran down my face and back like an icy chill. I sneezed as I was putting the toothpaste over my toothbrush and cursed as my fingers squeezed down too hard.

Splat. The paste was splattered all over the metal edges of the sink. I glanced into the mirror and saw that my light violet eyes were an especially dark shade of purple this morning.

I frowned at the offending white substance, and released a blast of water from the tap. Ha. I sure showed that toothpaste. I undressed, and put the dark tunic into a pile of more identical nightgowns.

After a brief shower - frozen water and me were not the best of friends - I dressed in my usual outfit of white with a red cloak for warmth. Over the years, people have whispered about it, and the current rumor that's going around right now is that I kill virgins and dip the cloak in their blood for luck.

I give them only one response - as if I need it.

Luck, is for the weak. Frail beings need luck, because if they have it, they will get someone even worse off than them, and they will win. True strength does not come from luck, true strength comes from years of blood and sweat. True strength comes in the form of dual-swords that are the extensions of my arms; my power is in my speed and my cunning.

My head was pounding again; I pressed the blue button on the side of my bed, and a moment later some pills came in. Blue for the pain, red for the nightmares, yellow to boost my energy levels, and green to reduce the side effects of the red pills. There was also a purple button there, but I never pressed that one. Purple was for true emergencies.

Today was not an emergency.

I hung the poster of an eccentric animal over my pill cabinet; they must remain hidden, my weakness must not be known.

My weakness is mortality. I'm dying, slowly and painfully. Maybe a decade more, and there will be nothing left of me but whispers about the maiden in the tower; the Empress who conquered the Gods of Heavens Arena. Soon, the whispers will fade into nothingness, and someone else will take my place.

But not today. I narrowed my eyes. Not today.

I switched the volume back on, and tried to find someone worthy of battle. It's been years since I last faced an opponent as myself. Usually, anyone that showed potential was eliminated within seconds, and I would return to this cell; ashamed at myself for making a big deal out of nothing.

Today, again, there was nothing special;I sighed and slid to the third wall, where an array of masks were kept. Again, rumors say that they were made from the faces of my vanquished enemies. I make no comment, but the porcelain plate does not lie to me as I slide it over my face.

They're special nen masks that attach to your face and meld you into a new person, but the eyes; the eyes never change. My light violet eyes stare back at me now, and asked the same question that they do every time. Why?

Why do I fight? Knowing that with every punch, every kick, I draw closer to death; to the endless oblivion; to the abyssal darkness. My lips turn upwards in response to the question.

The thrill of the fight. That's what keeps me alive.

The adrenaline and the excitement; the pounding of my heart and the the rush of blood in my ears as I deliver the ending blow. The cold clamp of the referee's hand as he announces the winner. I live for it.

Amped up and psyched for a day of flawless victories, I did not stay to observe the fights until lunch like I usually did. If I did, I might have seen him; I would have bowed at his feet, worshiped the ground he walked on. Had I seen him fight, I never would have dared to challenge him.

But, as fate would have it; had I seen him then, and not gotten to know him...

I might not have lived to tell this tale.

|::|

A/N: Welcome to yet another Hisoka fanfiction from me because I just simply cannot get enough of Hisoka. I love him to death.

If you liked this and want to read more Hisoka, feel free to read Who is She?  - A completed Hisoka fic.

Uhmmm.... Not sure what else to say xD

//I have five chapters ready, so I can procrastinate for a month now XD

-Oh ya, weekly updates; at least I'll try for that... so please, follow along as I embark on another story~!

Please tell me your thoughts so I can do the best possible!

Thank you!

-Finixx