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Revy staggered. Her boots were heavy with blood, and the rest of her body matched; the neon lights above illuminated her hollow form, already prepared to bleed to death and die. Her breaths were short huffs and gasps; her lungs didn't have much air to spare.
Her movements were sluggish and wobbly as she headed on, one foot after the other. The asphalt had her feet cry in pain over how hard it was; each large crack nearly had her fall to the ground.
Her body told her to stop, and she collapsed in front of a fountain, propping herself on the stone, back hunched over. There were spare lights above that were a fuzzy yellow color, and the water fountain made faint noises behind her, the water moving in an endless cycle.
She didn't look up when she heard high heels on the ground. A clacking sound that got closer until a body set itself beside her, lightly like a queen. “Who are you?” Revy croaked. Her eyes shut, not even making an effort to keep them open.
“I don't think that should be your biggest concern. Seeing as your minutes from becoming a corpse.”
The voice was deep velvet, smooth and calm. It sounded like something out of a magazine, a crisp cut to it that reveled in the word beauty.
A hand covered her shoulder. The shape of it felt big, at least larger than her own hands. Light pressure increased, and she let out a hiss of air through her teeth. The hand stopped, choosing to stroke, feeling the material of a tank top.
A cough erupted out of her, and something wet dribbled out of her mouth, leaking down. The woman rested her hand again on her shoulder, keeping her sturdy.
The hand squeezed down, causing Revy to bite her lip to resist screaming in pain. The pressure kept increasing, piling up until she shed tears. Finally, it stopped, and Revy dragged a sob out of her throat.
“You...fucking asshole, ” Revy gritted out. The hand moved to her throat, acrylics pressing close to the skin. She opened her eyes to see the scarred half of the woman's face with uneven ridges that appeared painful to the touch. There was a beauty mark under the corner of her left eye. Blonde hair shined under yellow light; blue eyes were grim and dark. Full of misery.
She muttered something in a foreign language. Russian maybe? Then it switched to English, “You must understand that there's going to be no peace in your death. War is going to occur in these ridden streets, and your entire group will be killed where you stand.”
“Go to hell.”
The blonde had a sick smile on her face. “I plan to.” Revy’s hands came up to the hand holding her neck, trying to get it to release her. It didn't work; the woman brought her closer so that they were inches apart.
Spit landed on the Russian’s face, moist wetness that trailed down. Blue eyes blinked, and her mouth formed a snarl as she slammed down Revy’s head on stone.
Revy groaned out in pain; a throbbing white noise ironed on the inside of her skull. Then she gave a hazy grin. Despite the blood that clung to her and most likely stained her teeth, she smiled like a cocky teenage boy. She breathed out, and it came out sounding like sandpaper sliding against a chalkboard.
“Why are you doing this?”
The blonde answered, “I already told you. I would advise you to get a better memory before I decide to crack your skull.“
Revy’s brow raised, and she rolled her head to the side, hair from her ponytail spread out. “I dunno; seems like you're just a dumb blonde slut with nothing in your skull.”
This time the blonde grabbed her hair, holding her ponytail as she held her underneath the water of the fountain. Being a good swimmer was a saving grace; it wasn't awful to be waterboarded than when she first thought.
Although the woman caught up on it and brought her out, punching her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. Revy knew in her head that she had to stall, to stop her body from fucking dying and let this bitch win.
“You look like you're one of the dancers from Michael Jackson's Thriller.”
“And you look like a little Asian whore”
Revy frowned at the retort. “That's not very creative.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don't particularly care about this spatting match; you're acting like a brat.”
Revy leaned up, grabbing the blonde by her suit. “I’m not a brat, ” she growled out.
The Russian paused, taking in her statement before she smiled and leaned over Revy, shadowing her entire form. “If you're a brat, then that must mean you're particularly submissive, trying to push my buttons for me to punish you. Is that correct?”
Revy’s face went up in flames, and she pushed against the other woman to no avail. “You're just a fucking sadist getting off on this, aren't you?”
The blonde gave her a deadpan look. “Stop avoiding the question.” Revy could view the backdrop behind the woman. A blue sky, painted by the same brush that filled the Russian’s eyes. There were no clouds, nothing white, to take away from the primary color.
Teeth ground against each other, baring themselves. “I’m not your sub.” A slap hit Revy’s face, and the woman began to choke her. One hand dug into a scalp keeping a head high as the choking continued. Smaller hands were trying their best to hurt the blonde, but there wasn't any effect.
Revy stopped once she realized her effort was futile. Her jaw locked as she shut her mouth, not letting any sound escape. Until a hand tugged on her hair, she let out a loud, embarrassing whine. That's when the woman stopped, looking so fucking smug as she let go.
“See, that wasn't so hard, was it?”
Revy hated the teasing tone the blonde was using. It was as if she was stupid, the same way most if not all adults talked to her as a kid. Even now, she's considered dumb as a box of rocks, and it's irritating hearing it from a stranger that she can't kill.
But nobody has it easy in Roanapur. Everyone’s a new shade of a fucked up color, forming together a mosh pit ready to boil and roast anyone who has any morals.
There’s no way the woman’s men are watching them. But they must be close if they’re going after her, the figure behind Chang’s form. Although they might be taking all of them down in one swoop, so no hydra heads would show up.
And that means that they’ve divided, in some way or have different locations and people to go to. It seems like a silent war, one sprouting up from clumped dirt with bullet casings being the fertilizer.
But why is she here? Not going after Chang directly.
“Why are you here with me?” Revy’s words were bland, the same color of beige as she started up at the night sky. Her flushed face had droplets of water that dampened it, strands of her hair sticking and laying flat.
“I learned that it’s better to go after the second in command. Weaker than the leader, yet stronger than the rest. A perfect balance.”
It made sense, in a way. Going after the person who’s in second place, letting them either squeal all the info out or use them as a display of strength, maybe even use them as a traitor for the bigger plan in play.
Revy’s mind was turning to mush, and she could feel herself getting closer to hell every second. “You’re close, aren’t you?” A dry laugh coughed out of her, and she couldn’t help but imagine those words in a different context.
She huffed. Any minute now, Chang is going to come back for her. And she waited and waited. He never came; he must’ve known it was a trap or not given a damn about her, but he’s wasn’t coming anytime soon. A coiled ball of grief pulsed in Revy’s heart as she realized that abandonment had come back to haunt her.
After a while, the woman’s phone rang, and she picked it up. There were Russian words, and she froze, the phone almost dropped from her limp grip, and once the call was over, she looked at Revy.
Blue eyes were blank, yet loose wheels of fire were turning, a circle that was ongoing for eternity. She stood up and stared down at Revy. “Kneel, ” she ordered.
Revy sputtered, “No fuckin’ way am I-” Hands forcibly grabbed her, situating her on her knees with her chin forced up to meet a face. The Russian did look like something you'd find in Hell, some demon that suffered an internal punishment that burned up the outside of the skin, having it become disfigured and grotesque.
“He’s not coming, is he?” Revy’s voice was that of defeat, tone tired and knotted up. Yay, another person who's going to leave her to die. I must be fucked up beyond belief, something wrong with me that's causing this curse on my life.
“No, and nobody is ever going to come back for you. Because you're nothing, and there's not a single person who will ever love you in your life. Even your corpse won't get flowers.”
Revy’s shell-shocked eyes froze at the tone, the utter hatred that the blonde put into it. Her eyes cast themselves downward. It hurt a lot to hear the truth spilling in her face. But she'd come to accept it ever since her dad told her the same thing.
The heaving breaths of the woman above her contained some urban emotion above anger and hate, like some horrid disease that'd struck her heart.
Revy got up, almost tumbling down until a firm grip got ahold of her. “You are going to come with me, and your boss is going to learn what the actual pain of a comrade’s death feels like. “
“He doesn't care.” Revy lowly chuckled. “To him, it's a disappointment, sure, but all that'll happen is his pride being twisted in a tiny pinch. That's not pain, it’s just fucking annoying.”
The woman’s jaw twitched. Her eyes went up to the sky as if she was saying some prayer that Revy would never learn or understand. She tightened her hold, forcing Revy to scoot even closer on her knees.
The Russian hummed, deep in thought. She inhaled and exhaled, letting herself calm down. “Your leader has abandoned you, left to die a dirty death fitting for an item than anything living.”
Her hand cupped a check, thumb pressing down on broken bone. “That’s why I’m going to take you with me. If he doesn’t care about you he won’t mind me taking you as a prisoner.”
Revy licked her busted lip and harshly swallowed. “You gonna torture me?”
The woman narrowed her eyes. “No. I wouldn’t waste the effort on you. Already I can see that my men have given you enough punishment.”
“Yeah, they did.” Revy pointed to the crude bloodstain on the stone of the water fountain, where the woman smashed her head.
“And you have too.” She put her chin up defiantly. “Try not to be scared when I’m in your care that I show you my true insanity yeah?”
She shook her head, a sneer coming out of her, “Seems like your friend wasn’t insane enough to survive in Roanapur.”
Revy caught the clench of a fist, and she stared at it, waiting for the final blow that would knock her dead on her back. Instead of that, the blonde looked at her again, taking her in.
“Your true insanity?”
A slow nod was the response. With the state her body was in Revy didn’t want to be sane enough to live the rest of her life like this. Like the woman in front of her. The Russian’s shoulders raised high, and her face resembled a zombie at that moment.
So the blonde released Revy and dragged her to her feet. And the blonde still held her face, observing her. Blood caked her, acting as a face powder. Bruises were already present in several places.
Shrapnel imbedded in several places of her skin, opening it. Soot was another factor, her clothes were torn and burned off, copying pieces of her skin that were sprayed a bright cherry red of blood.
”How did you escape my men alive?”
Revy responded, “A rocket launcher blew them up right as they were beating me down, I got lucky as the blast didn’t get me so bad as them.”
The Russian twitched at the answer. Obviously upset over the news given to her. “You’re the one that survived. Of course.”
”I like to believe I can’t be killed.” Revy willed herself to stand straight, ignoring the pain that picked up and down her body.
The woman smiled at the proud statement. As if she was happy that Revy sounded so confident in her ability to not be killed.
Brown eyes glanced back at the water fountain. Revy pointed to it as best as she could, “I’m just gonna sit for a bit.” And die.
The Russian led her to the fountain, acting as support as Revy sat down. A hand brushed away bangs, nail dragging over the blood that sat there.
The nail was showed off to Revy, as if a declaration of pain that could be brought down onto her.
The woman gazed at her. Her hands clenched and unclenched as if she wanted to grab something. Mouth twisted in a line that had Revy imagine what it could’ve been like, encountering her in a different life.
”Ты мой пленник.”
The sentence came out solid and true. So loud that Revy heard it over the water behind her.
”你会看到我的发烧.“
That had the Russian perk up as if she’d forgotten that the person in front of her worked for a triad. Revy’s breaths reflected on her sentence, ragged and hoarse.
The blonde sat down on the water fountain again, in hand reach. Revy grew cold, and she knew the reason behind it as she peered down at the ground.
Revy’s head weighed down and bounced back up. A large hand felt hair, the sticky blood and wounds that massacred the scalp, especially the back where concrete met.
It was calculated movement, as if guessing how much longer she had left.
Revy gave a noise of discomfort, and the woman ignored it. Standing up, the blonde said, “Follow me.” Little did she know that Revy didn’t have the mere strength to get up, much less thoughts in her brain to comprehend to follow.
That’s how the Russian ended up holding a bloodied hand that felt like smooth leather.
Revy’s breaths were low and sporadic, barely counting as puffs of air. The Russian adjusted her hold, the grip too difficult with her hand sliding and being held back by the near limp body behind her. Revy made a noise of distress, the sound of it close to the men that she saw explode in front of her before they died.
Once they reached a certain point, there were many noises, too loud for Revy’s comfort as she closed her eyes. People talked, and it seemed like Revy become the blonde’s choice for a stress ball as she clenched her hand even more.
Revy heard a trunk open and was tossed inside of it. Her eyes started to close. Everything was so blurry and noiseless that it felt like a nightmare she was stuck in instead of real life.