A Little Tale of Weapon and Meister (Soul Eater)

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

(Quick summary of what happened so far. This mostly for me; so at this point in the actual story Asura got poked in the bum with some black-blood and is now up and about. So then the madness wave-length is effecting most of my characters, especially James… Seeing that he can some how fully control his G.G. Grandpas gift...)

Tara stood infront of a long antique mirror. Her reflection was wearing the clothes she had put on this morning. No holes, no tears, no bloodstains, she looked the way she had when she walked out the door. Her reflection smiled sweetly at her and twisted around as if to check herself. She stops suddenly and reaches up just below her chest. She looks down at her hands now covered in blood. She looks up her eyes in shock and despair. The blood pools around the wound staining her clothes. Her mouth gapes open and closed as if trying to breath. Tara looks away from her as her reflection collapses and lays still. A new image materializes; it's her real self. But pale as a winter's morning, Tara places her hands on her mouth as she notices the beautiful black ball gown she's suddenly adorn. Its heart corset with black lace and crimson silk framing her curves and then spreading its black fabric across the floor. Her hair all pinned up with a black rose making her red eyes almost seem to glow.

A flick of the wrist and a record scratches and begins to play.

She spun around to see who'd put on the dreadful jazz music. What a strange step up, the little red ogre sitting on top of a book case next to an old record player. The ogre was biting his nibbling on his grotesquely large hand. Soul was leaning on the side of the bookcase. He also was a ghostly white; he was holding a chardonnay glass filled with possibly orange soda. He spun the glass round and round looking down into it, the other hand in his suit pocket. His head rolled to the side his droopy eyes staring at Tara standing there.

"Why don't you look nice. Ta-ra." He said drolly. The ogre's eyes bulged and began nibbling harder, giggling to himself. Soul pushed himself off the bookcase and strode over to her still rotating the glass, hand in his pocket.

"What's going on…" Tara said bluntly. She was never one for mind games.

Soul shrugged, "You tell me, we are in your mind. We're just a figment. Not really here ya know?"

The ogre bit his hand off.

They both looked at it. Soul sighed.

"But why?"

Soul scoffed, "Ask your self."

"Um ok, well I don't know how."

"You really are stupid you know that? Just a dumb blonde."

Tara scowled at him and began her argument against him, but he held up his glass and rotated it in her face.

"Here's a theory, you're dead." Soul took a swig of the soda. "And your mind because of the 'madness' has kinda trapped itself in suspended animation and this is what it came up with to keep you busy. Get what I'm sayin'?"

"No….not at all that doesn't even make sense Soul." She crossed her arms stubbornly.

He sighed unamused, "It was just a theory. Personally I don't think you're dead and this is just one of those fourth wall dreams."

"All because of madness~" The ogre chimed in as he began to devour his other hand.

"Ew, so then how do I get out of this?" Tara looked at Soul in his dapper pinstripe suit.

"You have to talk to your mentor like in all the good adventure stories. Well except the ones where the mentor dies. But then the mentor could come back as a ghost-"