I Promise [Zack X Reader][Angels of Death/Satsuriku no Tenshi][MATURE]

[Prologue/Ch. 1] Ab Incunabulis

[Long Author Note: Yep. We're fucking do this. 
You, the reader, however you want to look at it, is not going to be some sort of badass superhero. You're not going to instantly trust Rachel, or instantly become a sort of mother figure to her. In fact, she doesn't even really care about Rachel much in the beginning [which clearly changes considering the description of the fic itself lol]
Hopefully that doesn't disappoint anyone lol
Like I said in the description, some canon divergence to make reader fit into the story, to make Zack and her do the do, etc etc etc. By the way, yeah, all the chapter names are gonna be Latin phrases lol]

  ━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━  

A bell rings quietly, louder, louder – it breaks through the darkness, through the nothingness, and your body shakes, jostling you, dragging you out of the dark inky depths -

A small girl stands over you, blonde hair tickling the skin of your face – she has striking blue eyes that are widened in shock and worry, and you realize it was her small hands that had been shaking you. When she sees your eyelashes flutter she lets out a small sigh of relief, her breath puffing against your face.

You hadn't realized she was leaning in so close.

"I thought you might have been dead.." Her voice is soft, angelic, breaking on the last word – it tugs at your heart but you just gaze blankly at her for a long moment before slowing dragging yourself into a sitting position. It takes more effort than it should, as if the air itself has thickened and was fighting you. What.. the fuck was going on?

"Where are we –" You pause when you glance at the young girl's face again – it's immediately apparent she has no more idea than you do. "Who are you?" You try again with a different question, brows furrowed by her reaction of widened eyes. Honestly, you don't think about her reaction much – it's instantly obvious to you that the better question was who were you? A name was a simple thing, and yet... what.. was yours?

"Who am.. I?"

Those same small hands from before reach out and grasp yours with surprising familiarity – before she speaks you know that she knows you from somewhere, but it escapes you how you'd ever have gotten close to such a young girl. She couldn't have been more than 14, and you were – you were..

It was a disorienting feeling to not remember anything about yourself, you realized.

"My name is Rachel." She speaks slowly, in that soft whispery voice of hers, as if she's trying to not disturb the stark silence that surrounded the two of you. "Your name is ___. We met at the doctor – remember?" Her delicate fingers squeeze yours as if she can help dislodge your memories from wherever they've been stored. "You were seeing the same counselor as me –"

There is a flash of remembrance from her words, though it's not much. White walls, a maroon couch, the feeling of being annoyed, of having to wait for something, a flash of blonde and blue and tears, the feeling of a small hand in your own..

You were wrong, it's too much, leaves you stranded and gasping, panic rising in your chest – and then nothing, a blankness until Rachel's hands on your cheeks brings you back to her, eyes focusing in on her face. She's watching you worriedly and doesn't release you until your breathing has become noticeably calmer, stepping away from you.

You really don't know who this girl – Rachel – is, but she seems to know you well, seems comfortable in your presence. You're not sure if that's a relief or not. You know that you have no idea where you are, but.. this could easily all be a lie, she could be playing you right into a trap.