Chapter Text
The red tower rose countless feet above her, carrying the weight of the sky on its back without much effort. Its scarlet lights danced in harmony with each other as the fire crackled below, creating an intimidating atmosphere that filled the starless night. It was like entering another dimension. Pastry would hesitate to enter in the past, but now it was almost as if the place sang a song just for her, tempting her to come inside.
She took light and silent steps on the stone floor, walking right in the middle of a line of crimson spikes, who rose from the ground like giant claws as she loaded her crossbow and pointed it fearlessly in front of her, eager to challenge anyone who would dare to fight her.
Her order has sent her here on a new secret mission, to get rid of the cake hounds who were haunting the forests. They believed it was only the second time she had come here, but they were wrong. She has come here more times than she’d like to admit. She glared at the countless dark candles that decorated the place as she peered cautiously inside.
For a long time she had served her order loyally, no questions asked. But after what happened that day, she had been reluctant, missing more prayers than just the morning one. Perhaps Reverend Mother thought she was just haunted by whatever she had seen at this tower, but it was more. That day brought all her doubt and uncertainty to life, and she realized her fear was always there. She was just blind to it, as she was trained to.
There were nights she wasn’t able to sleep, as she couldn’t forget the faces. The poor healer woman who fell into disgrace and became filled with darkness, the red girl and her mirror, and… Him.
Ten. She went up the endless staircase, often pausing to catch her breath. There was no time to think now. She could hear the sounds, the barkings, and voices of the monsters that protected this tower, and they got louder as she kept climbing. She glared at her bow. Surely it wouldn’t be hard just to get rid of a few, right?
She pushed her intrusive thoughts away. She had to obey her order. It was her life, after all. She has changed her own name and gave away her life for the Godly. She could not fail them now.
Yet somehow, in this tower, she felt as if they weren’t that important, after all. As if she wasn’t just Pastry from the St. Pastry Order, but someone else. Her true self, the girl who was hidden between countless curtains that guarded her heart carefully like a shell.
She shook her head desperately. What was she thinking? Her true self was who everyone knew, the nun from the order that followed the Godly and brought justice to those who deserved it. Focus, Pastry, focus.
Fifteen. She had reached the source of the sounds. She glared at all the monsters that turned their heads as they heard her footsteps. It was time to complete her duty.
She aimed her crossbow as the hounds growled at her, hiding the puppies behind them, who whined. She gulped. Her hands were trembling as she aimed the arrow at the hound’s shoulder. Just shoot, she thought. The monsters are haunting the tower again, and flooding the forests. You must stop them, Reverend Mother had said. They are creatures of the dark, and that’s all they are.
But was that true? She shook her head, feeling herself sweat. They’re monsters. She was the only one who could protect others from them. She pressed her fingers around the bow…
“So our favorite gnat is here yet again?” A voice called from a room beside her. Reluctantly, she moved her gaze in that direction. Red Velvet was standing there, leaning on a wall next to the door. “Though I suppose this meeting ain’t friendly.”
She pointed her bow at him. This made him grin. “Well if it isn’t Pastry. I am indeed very pleased to see you again. Why don’t we sit down and talk?”
She looked at him carefully. He wore the same clothes as always, his dark red hair trailing the ground and curved like a large tail. His arms were crossed around his chest, his monster one considerably bigger than the other. His eyes glared at her curiously.
“I’m not here for your ramblings, Velvet.”
He lowered his head a little bit. “What a shame. I was happily willing to tell you about the factory’s progress.”
“I know very well how much it has… progressed,” She rasped, raising her voice. “I’m here to stop it, once and for all, and free the region from this madness!”
“Spare me of your inspirational talk,” He said, but grabbed his sword. “Stop pretending you’re a saint. We both know that’s a lie .”
“I serve the Order!” She protested.
He ignored her. “I won’t let you slay any of my hounds as you did last time, regardless of what your ‘Godly’ say.”
He dashed towards her, swinging his sword in her direction. She gasped and avoided him quickly by leaping to her side. The crowd of dogs began barking loudly as she fired three shots, aiming at his legs. He dodged her arrows with unnatural speed, surprising her, his eyes a mix of concentration and fury as he held his heavy sword high. She padded up swiftly through the room as he tried to hit her, his attacks frequent but slow.
She almost tripped as she reloaded her crossbow and frustratedly avoided the cake hounds who were trying their best to muddle her, biting her robes and legs furiously, and almost got caught by Velvet’s sword as he sliced the air a few inches beside her. He charged towards her, trying to grab her crossbow from her hands, and sent out a yowl as she grasped a candle next to the window and pressed its flame against his arm as she dashed away. His monster arm accidentally hit the window and it broke, making it rain pieces of scarlet glass all across the floor.
She parred another swing of his sword but this time it was so strong it lashed her crossbow away from her hands. She pushed her way through the hounds desperately trying to find something else to use, only to be met with a dog leaping at her and biting her hand. She kicked it away and was close to grabbing a shard of glass as Velvet slammed her against a wall and pointed his blade to her throat.
For a moment it was just silence.
“Looks like I won this time,” He smiled, although they were both panting. He had a few tiny wounds from the shards of glass that fell on him. “That’s too bad, isn’t it, priestess?”
“I… I will not surrender…” She looked around quickly, but as she extended her hand he pressed his arm against hers, pushing her further. “I shall die attempting my duty.”
“So your sisters can cremate you and simply add your name to the list as any other one?” He rasped, showing sharp teeth.
“How dare you--”
“Pastry, let’s be honest. They don’t care about you.” This hit her unexpectedly. “Haven’t you noticed yet? Tell me, how many things do you know about the order at all, that aren’t just lies or secrets?” His tone was harsh.
She gulped uncomfortably.
“You’re not a good person. You pretend to be, but you’re not. Just like all of your sisters, who slay any and everyone simply because they think they’re entitled enough to judge who shall live and who shall crumble!”
She looked away from him and said nothing. He wasn’t completely wrong...
He sighed. “You shouldn’t make yourself do things simply because someone tells you to,” His voice softened. “What’s the difference between that and a slave?”
“I’ve devoted my life to this. F-Faith is what moves me forward,” She tried to say. Those words he was saying were the same a voice in her head used to tell her without asking. She felt as if all her insecurities were now exposed.
“You saw the truth,” He said, remembering her about the day she first came here. “And yet, you still want to serve those creators who see us as nothing but objects to play with?” He stared at her in disbelief.
She gazed at him and their eyes met for a moment. She stared at his long, delicate hair locks, as they fell across his face in messy patterns, partially covering his eyes. His right eye, its darkness untouched by the scarlet light that came from the windows. This distant hollowness, whose only light laid in a narrow blue pupil, shining like a single star, glared back at her deeply as if examining a painting to its minimum details. The sight made her shiver. His monster eye was a fusion of fascinating and intimidating, like an animal preparing to attack its prey.
She felt her heart miss a beat as he leaned closer.
“But I can still see the doubt in your eyes. What do you want, Pastry?” He leaned in so he could whisper in her ear, his voice soft and melodic. “Right now. Tell me.”
For an instant she just let herself feel his closeness and looked around. The hounds had left the room, and everything was quiet. Harmonically quiet. It was as if, right here, in the darkness within this tower, they were completely alone as if they were the only people who existed. It was as if nothing mattered, she didn’t care her Order wanted her to kill these monsters. She didn’t care that her Creators were malicious beings with too much power. She should care… But she didn't want to.
She embraced this feeling as if it was everything that held her from collapsing and breaking into a million pieces.
“I want you to kiss me.”
She felt him hold his breath in surprise. For a moment she thought she had made a mistake, but she sighed as she felt his hand trace the line of her hips, as he turned to her and laid his lips on hers.
She laid her hands on his hair and touched it gently, all the way down to his shoulders, as she pressed his body against her, ignoring the sword that held the space between them and how its pressure stung. She heard him gasp when he released himself from her but she pulled him back to another kiss. He tasted like wine, cherry, and something burnt.
He was trying not to touch her too much, she noticed. Especially with his inhuman arm. This realization made her stop moving for a second. What the hell was she doing?
He stopped just as she did. “Pastry?” His voice was a whisper. She glared at him, absorbing the line that defined his face, his long eyelashes, so long they’d touch his cheeks lightly with his half-closed eyes. She stared at this creature whose only half was holy, while the other was full of darkness and deception.
And she thought, for the first time in her life, that it was beautiful.
She leaned closer and kissed him again, with all the passion she could express. His lips were surprisingly soft. He closed his eyes and pinned her back against the wall, lowering his sword slowly. This wasn’t a conflict anymore.
As the space between them was free, she pulled him closer and pressed his chest against hers. He made a little noise afterward, dropping his sword on the ground and wrapping both hands around her waist as she tangled her fingers on his hair. His touch made her feel like she was a burning torch held by pure cold. A princess dancing with the night itself.
She gasped as he moved his face away from her and laid a kiss on her neck, just a few inches away from where the tip of his sword once stood. “Ah, Pastry, don’t you hate me?” He whispered. “You sure must hate me…” She pressed his head against her desperately as he kissed and sucked the area near her throat. “How does it feel to have your heart pointing at two different worlds at once?”
She took his chin on her hands and glared deep into his eyes. “You’re the rope that ties me between them. You haunt my dreams every night,” she murmured, her voice almost expressing agony, running her thumb through his lips. “And I despise you because of it.”
He sighed profusely and kissed her once again, but harder, as if he was losing control and she was the only thing keeping him conscious.
They kissed countlessly, each one meaning something new. They pressed themselves against each other as if they could fuse into one, their hearts burning like wildfire. “You’ll be the death of me,” he whispered once.
He was laying multiple kisses all around her face repeatedly as his hands slid to her belt. She opened her eyes from the trance and glared at him, their gazes meeting, his stare asking for confirmation.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, she nodded. He rested his head on her shoulder gently. “We were fighting to the death a few minutes ago, and now…”
He sighed, holding her tight. “You, too, haunt my dreams, Pastry.” He turned to look at her directly. “Sometimes I can’t help but think about you. Often.”
She closed her eyes lightly, touching his lips with hers, but without kissing. “I hate you so much.”
His mouth curved into a smile underneath hers. “Well,” his hand slid to her belt one more time, whispering confidently: “Then prove it. Show me your hate, love,” and released it.