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Paradies Naiv; [PRIVATE] [Content Warning: Gore, Pretentious Artsy Bullshit]
Topic Started: Mar 10 2017, 08:30 AM (691 Views)
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[[Lucilly Peterson, continued from a dr34m come true]]

It had been a stroke of ill fate, had Lucilly believed in such ludicrous concepts. In fact, the word fate itself implied with all it's majestic might that the course of a human had been laid clear by a power higher than any actor on this world's stage. The truth of the situation was simple, as was it's cause. Lucilly was somewhere, and Dorothy was somewhere else. It was inconvenient, though in a most improper moment of joy Lucilly had let herself go. She had started skipping and dancing and humming along, and along the way she had lost sight of her friend.

An inconvenience indeed, a most dire one. Lucilly wished to help, to help Dorothy in her quest - whatever it is that is the goal of hers - and yet it was even for the dimmest of god's creatures clear to see. If Lucilly was not where Dorothy was, then Lucilly could not aid Dorothy.

Such a tragedy. Such a bold move, when Lucilly - to solve this little problem - thought quickly and clearly, and went straight to where she would see the best. A rooftop, though dangerous in it's lacking security features, it delivered with an awful view. An awful view, that did not contain the entirety of the island. Yet, her eyes could see far enough. Or so Lucilly hoped.
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O, so there comes another soul to meet Lucilly way up here on the high edge.

As the newcomer took the name of God in vain, Lucilly's ears perked up and listened well. The young lady had turned around, and greeted her guest with an enthusiastic smile.

"Isabel!"

Lucilly raised her hands, and to congratulate herself on doing nothing, she clapped once and twice. It took her few seconds, nay, just the very smallest part of a second, and Lucilly was already hurrying over to meet up close and proper. She had given the ground a look or two, to make sure that there was nothing that she would step in. That aside, the whole of her earthly attention rested on Isabel.

They were five feet from another.

"Oh Isabel, I am so glad to see you!"
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Lucilly had expected a warmer greeting in kind. So there was still something hanging in the air. A foul miasmata, which threatens to infect the world and lame all there is to it. Though Lucilly could not care about such matters, and not care she did. In fact, there was not a single fiber in the bodily entity of Lucilly Peterson from which this very notion of 'caring about this topic' could ever arise.

All Lucilly had to do, was for Lucilly to be Lucilly. Everything else would sort out itself in time.

"Oh, Lily! You're here too. Oh, we haven't seen each other for quite a while, haven't we?"

Such a shame. For all intents and purposes, and disregarding all memories (of which there few left for Lucilly and those which remained were vague either way), Lucilly held fondness for Isabel and Lily.

So when Isabel, in an odd moment of questioning, questioned Lucilly indeed, Lucilly could only answer with a shrug.

"Are you sure? I met people who want to find you as well. Well, one person, but I bet with you there are some others as well who'd love to see you."
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Again, another of those oddball questions. Truly, this one was a tough trick, for it was hard to answer with a genuine and clearly thought-out reply. Why was Lucilly glad to see Isabel? Well, without doubt the question should have been a different one. Why would Lucilly not be glad to see Isabel? It would have been easier to answer such a question, had Lucilly intended to answer it at all. After all, her voiced sentiment remained genuine.

She, yet again, shrugged. Her eyes fell on the sword in Isabel's right hand. It was stained with dried blood. Oh, she did not care at all.

"Should I not be glad? I like to think of myself as someone who is friendly to all people, and that includes you two."

Lucilly smiled.
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"Oh, of course. That is fine."

It would have been wise, or it would have been good, if Lucilly had at one point looked and noted that there was still something wrong. But she did not care at all. Isabel was difficult? She did not care. Lily was being panicky? She did not care. Three edges attached to Isabel? She did not care. Dorothy was nowhere to be seen? She did not care.

It was all completely meaningless.

For a moment, she felt a chilling coldness on her feet and on her hands and all over her. Yet again, she did not care.

As such she followed Isabel's suggestion. "Actually, I had been traveling with someone else. In fact, it was Dorothy. She had plans to... kill you." Lucilly was sure to raise her fingers and air quote that word. She still had no idea what Dorothy's plan was all along. "Yet I am completely baffled as to what exactly she had planned."
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"No, that I want not." Lucilly said, and at that point in time she said it with sincere affection. There was conflict between Isabel, and the other girls and boys of Kingman. That, so far so good, had been a fact of life already revealed to Lucilly. It truly and honestly baffled and surprised her still, however. Isabel had, as far as Lucilly could comment, made the impression of someone who held a certain popular value. Perhaps it was the weather, the rainy and cloudy days that made people irritated. Perhaps it was that, but she did not care at all.

Lucilly followed Isabel's eyes to Lily. Lucilly smiled at the other girl, and yet all she would get in return was gesticulating and mimicing that constituted some sort of vague threat. Perhaps a warning to Lucilly. Yet she did not care at all.

"To be honest, I feel very..." Her gaze wandered back unto Isabel. "...confused. I have no idea what is going on. There is something in the air... I can feel something burdening me, yet... I do not care at all."
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Isabel snapped at Lucilly. She did not care. Isabel killed people. She did not care. Isabel killed, with the sickle - she did not care - with the sword and the - she did not care - knive and she killed so many times, but Lucilly just did not c a r e.

So many deaths. So many corpses. Lucilly did not care at all. So much grief. So many stenches of bodies and wailing of friends. Lucilly just did not care at all.

...not at all.



...not...



...



Something went and made 'snap' deep within Lucilly. It had been no epiphany, and it had been no switch pulled by Isabel's words. No, something has awakened that has long since slept. For a moment, Lucilly clenched her fist. She suppressed a tear, and then spoke.

"Isabel, I... know. I know. I know and it does not matter to me."

Lucilly did not dare to look at Isabel, but then she did, and met her eyes.

"I do not want to kill, Isabel. I do not want to survive. All I want, all I want now, is to spend my last moments not hating, and not being hated."
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Could she ever be forgiven for this?

...

One.

One person.

One person nobody would miss.

Lucilly took a step and another, ever so subtly or as subtle as she could. Isabel was standing close to the edge. If hit from the right angle, perhaps by a strong gust of wind, a sudden rock appearing out of the sky or perhaps even a person throwing herself at Isabel could easily let her fall to death. At least, those were the thoughts that wandered in Lucilly's head.

"I am glad you are seeing it this way."

Lucilly smiled at Isabel.

Then, she charged.

Her body hit Isabel. She had embraced her in a way that Isabel never had wanted. It would have been a blessing, were Lucilly able to find a way to justify her behavior. Alas, her decision was made in foolish naivety. There was no excuse.

Yet, when Isabel slid backwards, something changed again.

Isabel did not hit the ground.

Lucilly regretted her actions. Greatly.
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It was unjust for man to kill man. Yet, when Lucilly gasped and grasped that Isabel was charging at her in return, she could not help but feel that it was a just act of judgment. Lucilly had sinned. She had forsaken the path of the Lord. She had forsaken her own path to God. She would then, as it was due and proper, pay for her wrong-doing.

Her opinion changed a little when Isabel hit, and the girl's blade cut deep into her torso. The pain was unlike all else she had ever felt. The mere shock of it caused Lucilly to scream, and tears began rolling down her face. Yet then it got even worse. Isabel cut across the belly, and Lucilly screamed even more. She had not noticed that she was pushed. Only when the sky turned sideways and her head cracked on the roof's floor did she realize. The screaming went on, the pain was suffocating.

Her left hand stretched to the side, she could feel warmth engulfing it. The blood of her intestines had begun to form a small puddle. The pain continued to grow and grow and grow, and it drowned out all there was to Lucilly. At some point, it had become severe enough, that Lucilly's brain was simply unable to cope with it. She screamed and cried and bled, but the massive pain – as present as it was in it's waves crashing violently in her body – could not be registered by her mind anymore.

Lucilly looked up. Isabel had took hold of her guts. Lucilly vomited in her own mouth. She could see her stomach, and she could see it's revulsion as it's propelled it's content out. She had to vomit again, and some of it escaped her mouth.

Her head turned to the left. There they were. Her digestive track laid bare for all the world to see. It was a struggle to move, and yet she did. Her arm hurried over to where her guts were. Her palm patted them, took a firm grasp and they squelched under the pressure of her hands. Cut asunder, and adorned with the dirt of the rooftop, Lucilly took her guts and tried to shovel them back in. She tried it again, and again.

These do not belong there.

Lucilly thought, or felt or maybe not. Yet with the next heap, she stopped. She screamed once more and louder than before. Then her other lung was pierced and Lucilly stopped trying.

She could feel blood flowing over her lips. She could feel it rolling down her cheeks and dropping on the floor. Lucilly took a look at herself. A deep look, into her inner self. She knew she should have gotten a hold of herself, but she could not do so anymore. Her eyes went above, one last time, and saw Isabel.

O you cruel scene, how your image will void my sleep evermore

[[Lucilly Peterson: End - Death by Severe Bowel Irritations]]
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