End of Days

Ballerina

Key Twelve: Ballerina:

Ophelia isn't the only one who can see her now.

Allen had a drunken smile across his face. The silhouette of a dancer danced across the ceiling. He wanted to reach up and grab her ankle.

Road's face popped up in his vision.

"Hm? Oh, it's you," Allen said. Right now, he wasn't fully gone again. The monster smirked at him.

Smack!

Allen had a drunken smile on his face. "Hit me harder." Road kept her gaze on him. Her handprint formed on his cheek.

"Oh?" she asked. "You want me to hit you again?"

"Yes!" Allen shouted. Why was he saying this? Aizen wasn't even moving around. The angel's face turned redder. Road put her hands on her hips.

"Well then," she said.

Smack!

Allen howled aloud. He grind his teeth together. He thought he cut his tongue on his teeth. A little bit of blood escaped in his mouth. Road leaned in for a kiss. The whole time, Allen could see the ballerina dancing behind Road's head.

Ophelia can see her again. It only happens during sex. But there are some conditions that have to be met. She's touched herself before and nothing happened. It has to be with someone else. What did she want from her?

"I know you are there," Ophelia whispered. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" She never answers. Just gives off that cold stare.

"I don't even know who you are," Ophelia said. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" That's another thing. The ballerina is always following her. Even in the 1980's.

-Paris, 1985-

She had just started back them. Didn't know how much the world worked. Ophelia was tall for her age. Could almost pass as twenty. She needed money. Home life was less than ideal. The less said about that the better. Still, she needed to go to the city for work.

So here she was.

It didn't take her long to be scouted. Ophelia wasn't the most beautiful girl in Paris. But she did look somewhat attractive. Cleaned up, she would look better.

The madam knew how to work her girls. Ophelia would be no different. She could work this girl into a beautiful flower. It was a good thing that Ophelia was still a virgin.

The madam knew the right words to work her. She has to. It's how she's able to stay in business in the shadiest parts of Paris. The madam rescued Ophelia from a group of bikers looking for an "morning delight". This one was too easy. Another farm girl who needs money. Those were a dime a dozen. This was like picking up fruit from off the ground. All she had to do was offer the girl something to eat and that was all she wrote.

Ophelia happily took the meal. She was a hungry girl after all. They always were.

-Present Day-

The ballerina stared at her with empty, cold eyes. Ophelia despised her. This ballerina could've been her. Grace, purity, privilege, beauty, and prestige. None of those things that Ophelia could ever have. None of those things she could get now. The angel narrowed her eyes and girted her teeth.

"Why do you hate me so much?" she asked. "What did I ever do to you?" She never got an answer. That ballerina just stood there being everything that Ophelia could've been. The self-loathing formed in her thought again. The angel felt like screaming.

"What do you want from me?!" she yelled. She picked up a hair pin and threw it at her. That damned ballerina didn't speak. She never does.

Never does.