have mercy on the devil //

Rolling wastelands, not a single shrub or creature inside, would bring tears to her eyes if she didn’t call these plains home. She gently prodded the roaring fire and dropped three logs into it, fearing the cold would set in sooner than usual tonight. With eyes staying on the horizon, and the few debris towns that rose from it, she rolled a dainty cigarette from the last bag of tobacco she had. She painfully realized that it was probably the last around, at least in this area.

This was her barren kingdom, and he ruled with a velvet glove. Outside of the destruction zone, there was life. Ravaged and struggling, but the animals lived comfortably, and she was their savior. She kept any mutations away and assured a stream of quality meat. Humanity had failed her, causing her to share her generosity with nature. 

She was running low on food and water, but she knew going to town was out of the question. There she was a pirate, a drifter, a trouble maker. A hooligan, was their technical term, though she had done nothing - at first - to create dislike. Her conscience had soured. She pillaged small abandoned towns on the outskirts, stealing supplies from the raids the cities sent out. Boring nights, she snuck over the walls and stole directly from homes. She became good at what she did, and word of mouth carries quickly. 

Third generation and society was still whining about the war. No one knew what the world looked like before, how could they want what they didn’t remember? 

She embraced reality, and thrived in the lonely desert.

“Zalea.” 

The voice was loud, but he barely moved her head. It was no one, she already knew. Sometimes she heard her husband’s voice, soft and soothing, calming her nerves and fending off her fears. They had ripped him away from her, claiming they needed him. They needed him. What about her? She needed him too. 

She choked, spat and laid back against the rocks.

The clouds were tinged with orange now, center a perfect pink and the flatland stained red from the sun. She took her last drag of the cigarette and put the butt in the pocket of her worn jacket. She settled in. A small nap before her outing wouldn’t hurt. 

Six hours later, the sky had darkened beyond comprehension. her fire was smoldering. He lit a small torch from the embers and allowed her eyes to adjust before whistling quietly. A small horse, healthy with a coat that shone even in the dark, trotted towards her and gave her a small nudge. 

She laid her palm on his nose, then pressed her face against her. One, two, three deep sighs, before jumping on the bare back of the horse. She tugged the mane a little to the left, turned around and began her short journey to the closest town. Tonight’s task was simple; one mundane murder. It was a woman, which she would have struggled with but her standards and morals had slipped away the day her love was torn from her. 

She left Icarus roaming around the gates and easily climbed over them, slipping down only a few houses away from her mark. She walked gently over the tin roofs, knowing not to avoid the tender spots. She was told that the roof of a house used to be made of solid material, but she laughed at these myths. Homes now were nothing but paper and twigs. 

The house had a blue Corvus flag, as she had been told. 

Corvus.

The group that controlled any and all creature that breathed.

Except for her. 

They managed population mostly, making attempts at continuing the human race, however futile they were. Everyone was dying, and no one was creating. That was their own problem, he thought, and this woman was one of the mastermind’s behind their latest idea - taking babies from their mothers and studying them, testing them, making even cutting them apart. 

Her stomach churned and he dropped down in front of the door, which was barely locked. People weren’t afraid anymore, but they should be. She pushed it open and stalked though the shoddy bedrooms, finding the only sleeping form in the house. She was told that there were others living here - she needed to get out. She leaned over the bed with her husband's old, curved, beautifully wicked knife and pressed the sharpened blade against the woman’s porcelain skin.

I figured we were just going to post them one by one, this might take some time lol

This wasteland was her sanctuary. In the old world, life had been hard, poverty had been something to be feared. Now it was only to be expected. With very little hope for things to improve upon themselves, her job was an important one. She was among the Corvus, a group of Elites, a police force if you will, trying to uphold and maintain any semblance of control left in this shrunken, wasting world. There was only so much that could be done about the population problem, but their group was not one for giving up. They were doing everything they could to try to restore the image of the old world.

Her role in Corvus was a difficult one. After some time, she has learned to shut off her conscience and focus only on the task ahead of her. She was at the forefront of the population issue, the one in charge of coming up with a solution to humanities dwindling numbers. It seemed that after the war, something had gone amiss with humanity's ability to repopulate. As if the initial death toll wasn't bad enough, their numbers shrunk even further in the following years, as people died off from result of radiation, starvation, old age. There was even a time when resources had gotten so low that the humans began hunting each other for food. That was when an attempt at order was first reinstated.

There was no room for democracy in these times. The rule was that they would do whatever must be done to survive, no matter how cruel or inhumane it seemed.

And so the kidnappings began.

There were rumors, initially, of women and men still capable of reproducing and expanding their numbers on their own. For most, this had become impossible. Something about the nuclear blast, probably as a result of radiation, had made most infertile. But somehow there were still others out there healthy enough. Granted, without the right resources most of them would not be able to carry to term or give birth on their own. The only way for your child to survive was if you offered yourself up for research. This might seem easy enough at first, but then there were the rumors that the government was only taking people in to turn them into test subjects, and in some cases ripping their babies out of them, only to then cast them away. It was a horrible thing to carry a being inside of you that you knew would not live to see the light of day, but it was even worse to know that the only way that child might survive is if you gave it up for a life of poking and prodding. Forever to remain a human pincushion, a test subject for confused and curious doctors. As many turned themselves in, the numbers were even higher for those that took the other route. It was a noble thing to try to protect your own in a world where safety was no long ensured. And for most of those that went into hiding, they were of course captured shortly thereafter. There was little hope for trying to keep a screaming, starved infant secret from the government. Word always got around somehow.

Halos's life had become one of routine in recent years. She got up in the morning, went to work, did what she was told, came home, made sure that the others in her group were well taken care of, went to bed, and did the same thing all over again the next morning.

As the lead scientist at the forefront of the fertility problem, she had had to desensitize herself early on. It was a kill or be killed world out there, and she was in no way exempt from the madness. She had had numerous death threats on her life in the past, mostly at the beginning when word had first gotten out how their studies were being conducted. Most attempts had been futile, the angry outbursts of grieving husbands and would-be mothers. Things had been quiet for many years, and most were no longer worried about the death threats, as the majority of society had become weak and defenseless, but Halos knew to always keep her guard up.

Nobody lived alone in the city. Privacy was a thing of the past, as there wasn't enough land or resources for people to have their own dwelling. Unless, of course, you were a higher up member of the government, or a nomad living off the land on the outskirts of town. Halos was neither.

Therefore, although Halos' home was her own, it was also home to five others. A couple were from her own group, these two were newbies, a young man and woman just starting out at the bottom of the ranks trying to work their way up, but the others were outsiders. Although she was responsible for making sure that all those who lived amongst her were well taken care of, mostly Halos just kept to herself.

She had her own room, her own personal possessions, but that was about it. Everything else was shared. This was the way the world worked now. Everything was up for grabs.


Halos had gone to bed around nine, just a few short hours after getting back from work. She had hardly had enough time to shower and eat before she caught her eyelids starting to getting heavy, a long day's work taking its toll on her body. She had retired to bed without hardly anything to eat, slipping between the sheets and passing out just a few minutes later. It had been a long time since Halos had woken up fully refreshed, the manner of her work was really starting to wear on her. And what was even worse was that it followed her into her dreams. She couldn't count how many times she had startled awake from dreams echoing with the horrible piercing cries of barely alive infants cut open before her, internal organs spilling out of empty stomachs, for just a moment before she cut off the source by shoving needles into their veins, killing them slowly, quickly removing their brains for examination before the life in their eyes went out right before her.

This is as small as I had once been, was all she could think.

This night was just the same as all the others. She lay in bed, sheets twisted tight around her sweating, writhing form, making her dreams even worse because then they transformed into her being the baby on the examination table before herself. The tightness of the sheets cutting into her stomach became the blade slicing her open, her sweat and tears all the same as the blood that came pouring out all over the place. For a long moment she lay still as the scene play out before her mind's eye, and then, just as some outside force pressed an actual blade against her skin, she jerked away. Halos's eyes were wild, a scream caught between her gritted teeth. The woman above her was a stranger, and yet matched the image of a certain part of the population, the type who lived outside of the city, just outside of the governments reach. These were the truly wild ones, the ones who lived by their own rules. Halos had been trained in hand to hand combat, and always kept a weapon nearby, but the stranger blocked her reach. She held the scream in, because she knew that if she let it out, the others would come running, and there was no telling how this stranger might react to something that threatened their own life.

Instead, she remained still as she possibly could, parting her lips just barely, and whispered so that only the two of them could hear, "Who are you and what do you want with me?"

There had never been a time when she considered not completing a task, though she had never been asked to kill a woman. A feminist, maybe, but Zalea was also a realist, and the issue with reality was that men had direct control. Women no longer had the power of childbirth to keep them under their thumbs. 

As her victim’s eyes flew open, there was a fleeting moment of doubt. She continued to press the blade deeper, blood gathering at the edge, but the doubt came back. In a world where there was next to no hope, how could she possibly kill a woman, when they were supposed to be standing together? Confusion mixed with anger caused her to choke. 

“Irrelevant questions, I’m here to dispatch you, gently, of course,” she said softly, with an odd tinge of guilt. She leaned back on her heels, pulling the knife away momentarily. These people took her husband, and her pregnant sister, along with her two little girls; they all deserved to die after the death they brought. Zalea stepped back, and took Halo in, aware that a brief time of ease could betray her, but trusted that this woman understood how quickly she would die if she ran. 

She was sweating slightly, distraught in a way that had been caused by something before Zalea broke in. Nightmares? She narrowed her eyes. Nightmares, from the souls of the children she’d killed. 

A new thought came to mind. 

“But I’ve changed my mind, you’re coming with me and we’re going to talk over some coffee,” the words were wicked and Zalea couldn’t help but congratulate herself for finding someone that would lead her to her family. She took out a small bottle and a cloth, and within seconds had the rag over Halo’s mouth. 

Hours later, she had carried the unconscious body to her standard camp. Knowing she would need to set up elsewhere soon, she moved quickly, efficiently packing the tent and few supplies left. She gave two short whistles, followed by a single, lower, longer, richer, as if she was asking for a gift.

Icarus flew into sight, followed by a black mare. She glanced at Halo, hoping she could stay on a horse. She made a small fire, and found the percolator. Maybe the smell of coffee would rouse the sleeping beauty- 

She paused her thoughts, and moved them in a different direction. Information was all she needed, after that, she could let this monster free into the savage wasteland and pray it would kill her. 

There was a strangeness in being hunted. It had been many years since Halos had felt this sensation, this dark level of fear, the uneasiness, the heightened senses. Even in the darkness, Halos was acutely aware of many things she might not have noticed otherwise: the curiosity and doubt and anger that played across this stranger's face, the status of her weapon, an antique curved knife, beautiful and ornate, that she was sure could do some heavy damage if necessary.


However, it didn't seem that this stranger was putting as much strength into her attack as she was sure that blade could. She felt the sharp, searing sting of the blade as it cut into her flesh, surely drawing blood, and the lightheadedness that always came with the thought of blood and injury (the irony of it, she always thought). But a moment later, the woman was leaning off of her, pulling her blade back as well. She said something about dispatching her, surely that was a threat of murder? Halos didn't have to ask the reason. She wasn't exactly unknown for her role in Corvus, the things that she had done to her fellow man, hell, even her fellow woman. And the children... She couldn't bare the thought. She knew she would deserve whatever became of her at the hand of this stranger, but at the same time, she knew that everything she did for the government was a necessity as well. What had to be done.


Halos knew she couldn't run, couldn't move an inch. Just as the children's lives lay in her hands while she was at work, her own life lay in the hands of this stranger. If she was brave enough to try to murder her in her own home, surely she could manage overpowering her if she put up a fight. The risk was too high, she had to stay put.


Although her senses were on high alert, her mind was muddled. Coffee? Before she could pose a question, the other woman had a dark bottle and a cloth out. Halos's brain was screaming, telling her to run, but then the rag was over her mouth and her breathing was so fast, she might have inhaled too much of it, and within seconds she was out cold.


And back to the same old nightmares she always had, except this time there was no chance of escape through the drug. She was a prisoner in her own mind.


It felt like hours before she awoke. Her entire body ached, felt heavy as a brick house. Hell, it felt like one might have even fallen on her. For a moment, she'd forgotten all about what had happened, but then her breathing started up again, and the smell of coffee jogged something in her memory. Her eyes flew open, wild green staring out at the barren landscape before her. She caught sight of horses, a sort of camp, and there was the stranger, much clearer this time, and a coffee pot? Nothing made sense, until it did. Halos sat up much too quickly, the stinging in her side from the blade earlier sparked and her hand flew to the wound, pulling away crusted blood and the torn fabric of her shirt.


She remembered that the woman had attacked her in her bedroom, and her hand flew to the side, as if reaching for her nightstand where she kept her own blade, but instead hitting thin air. They were outside of town. She was defenseless, except for her own personal strength, which was weakened slightly now with the wound and after effects of the drug, even as it was wearing off.


Halos sat up rigidly, kept her fists balled at her sides, but matched with this woman's blade, how much harm could she really do? "Why have you taken me?" She asked the woman, her voice ragged. "Who are you?"

When the woman stirred, it sent a wave of shock over Zalea. Her actions and direct consequences had never affected her before now. She frowned and breathed deeply, allowing herself to find her center and become grounded before Halo woke completely. She poured coffee into two tin mugs. Why she even had two was beyond her. She hadn’t had company, or whatever form of company humans were these days, since she’d been expelled from society. 

She undid the clasp that held her dark orange, frizzy hair in place, and quickly redid it, pushing the braid over her shoulder once it was done. She fidgeted on the rock for a moment, keeping her eyes on the moving body. The drugs had done their job beautifully, and on top of that, her victim would be groggy for another hour or so. 

Her eyes moved to the balled up fists, and she couldn’t resist a thin, tiny smile. 

“You’re spunky,” was all she could say. Words were failing her. She had almost killed this woman, and she had no idea why. What had she done? No. She knew what she had done, but why? More importantly, she had nearly lost the only source of knowledge of her family. When would she have this kind of opportunity again? “What kind of woman confronts her attacker right off the bat?” another smile, this one a little more twisted.

Zalea handed over the mug, but not before pouring the contents of a small flask into each.

“Who I am is unimportant. You can call me Z, if you feel so inclined. The point is I was supposed to kill you, and I didn’t, so maybe drink your coffee and be grateful.” 

Halos hadn't been out in the wild in some time. She wasn't dressed properly for this type of setting, and it showed. As tough as she was trying to seem, the goosebumps popping up all over her bare arms gave away not only her fear, but also the weakness of her body not being adjusted to the elements. She shivered slightly in place, which set off a feeling of displacement.


The scent of fresh brewed coffee made Halos's mouth start to water, and as much as she was trying to keep one eye on her kidnapper at all times, she felt her attention start to shift to the two tin cups the woman had set out. It had been a while since she'd had a cup of coffee, and with the wind whipping her hair around her face, making her shiver, a nice hot beverage certainly would have been nice.


The woman before her must have noticed her guarded stance, because she was brave enough to pick on her for it. She must have known that she still had the upper hand here, with Halos all drugged up and not a clue where she was. What was the point of her even trying to protect herself, when she probably didn't stand a chance?


"The type of woman who's not new to being a target, I suppose," she said gruffly, even though it was only a partial truth. Yes, she had been targeted for her work in the past, but it had been years. Most had grown too weak to attempt attacking her, and Halos supposed she had let her own guard down as well. She'd stopped thinking that this was something she was going to have to worry about, given up on the self defense classes long ago, hadn't even sharpened her knife in months. She was rusty, at best.


The woman handed the mug over to her, and Halos had very little choice but to accept it. She put the edge of it to her nose, taking a whiff. Definitely coffee, god it smelled so good. But of course she'd seen the woman pour something else into it too. Alcohol? She wasn't sure. Z, the woman called herself. She narrowed her eyes at the woman's orders for her to be grateful that she hadn't killed her when she had intended her to. "What else is in this?" She asked, stubborn as always. She was happy to be able to warm her hands on the heat of the cup, but only hoped the other didn't notice. "You must be an outsider. Hardly any manners of your own."

Despite her better judgement, she set the cup down, turned her back momentarily to dig through a large bag. From it she pulled a knitted blanket, and she tentatively handed it to Halo. There was a harshness in her actions, somehow, despite the fact it was a warm gesture. To her, it was to ensure Halo stayed alive long enough to get what she wanted. She knew how to play these games, mixing fear and adoration in a delicate way in order to create a confused, helpless victim. 

Another tiny smile crept onto her lips. Plotting was all that gave her joy anymore. 

Halo’s words brought a grating laugh, “Not new to being a target? I wonder if there’s a reason for that,” she said brusquely, “Maybe when people continually try and kill you, you should consider an alternate lifestyle.” 

She spoke in a discordant, unconnected manner, not caring whether her thoughts were coherent or not. It had been an entire year since she had spoken to anyone besides an animal. Her assignments were written, and her rewards hidden. When she kidnapped more frequently, bringing targets to certain places or people, her interactions were fluid, sly and natural. Now, it was a struggle to bring words to her lips. 

Zalea wondered briefly what kind of fight she would give. A part of her wanted to stir her up, see how much she would take before pushing back. Maybe it would be immediately, Halo didn’t seem like a woman to take any shit. Another part of her admired her, and another part wanted to kill her and get it over with. She was still standing. 

Blink.

She settled back onto her rock, and picked up the coffee, taking a long swig before adding more liquid from the flask, “More drugs,” she replied with a chortle, “And yes, I am an outsider, but only because your kind banished me from any and all cities - no, not cities, shit holes, full of snakes and devils. That includes you, miss lady. And don’t you fucking tell me your name. We’re not here for that. Finish your coffee and sleep. You can run in the night, if you want. Icarus will hunt you down, though, and he’s not nearly as nice as I am. If you’re good, I’ll tell you why I need you in the morning.”

She gave three long whistles. Icarus didn’t show around the camp, but she could hear him running in the distance. She had taught him tricks that no other beast knew. Without anyone helping her, she had to get creative with her help. It took a few minutes, but the stallion eventually came, trotting gently towards Halo and giving her a tap with her nose. She said a few words, and he planted his feet, keeping his intent stare on the woman. His eyes were more human than Zalea’s. 

“What do you say? Sleep? I can drug you again, but I doubt that will be necessary. Unless you’re able outrun a horse-“ she paused, scrutinizing Halo, gaze running over her legs, torso, arms and face. Her head tilted and she smiled, genuinely, if only for a second. Suddenly she realized that she may be underestimating this woman, “Can you?” 

Halos was far from expecting any kind gestures from this other woman, and yet she had already surprised her twice. First with the coffee, albeit drugged or not, and now with the blanket. If this woman was intent on killing her, why was she bothering to give her any form of comfort at all? Halos took the blanket, but only because she knew she needed to save her strength. It wasn't too cold out here, only a light fall breeze really, but the moon had already risen in the sky and Halos knew it might only get colder. She draped the blanket loosely over her shoulders and turned her attention back to the other.

With her dark hair and fiery green eyes, Halos's anger brought a startling look. She bristled visibly at the woman's words, her fingers tightening so much around the tin can that her knuckles turned white. "Perhaps I wouldn't be in the field I am if it weren't a necessary one," she spat back. Halos knew that most people would not understand the necessity for her work, and hell she even struggled with it herself sometimes. But every time advances were made, she remembered how much the world needed it. Even if it was difficult, progress was being made.

Granted, Halos didn't blame these people for hunting her. If she were in their shoes, perhaps she would consider doing the same. A life for a life, right? And yet, she had helped to take so many...

Even though Halos was certainly out of practice where self-defense was concerned, she could still handle herself just fine if push came to shove. Because of the stress of her work, she sometimes turned to exercise to get her frustration out. It wasn't a common thing, but on some days she could be found doing pushups and crunches until her abdomen became so sore she could hardly breathe. Her abdomen and legs got the most work, whereas her arms were only a little toned. She ran more than anything, so really, if it came down to fight or flight, she could definitely get some distance... But against a horse? Of course she would fall short there.

Drugs in the coffee, apparently. Halos didn't know whether to believe this woman or not, because while it seemed completely likely that she was in fact putting drugs into the coffee, at the same time she was drinking it herself... Halos was torn. She took a small sip of the drink, just enough to warm herself over, and then mentally put it aside. What would this woman do if she didn't drink it at all? Would she just let that slide? She neither knew the answer nor cared, at the moment.

"Must have done something bad to be kicked out," Halos reflected, although she knew that wasn't the only possible explanation for why the woman was banished. It was just as likely that she had just pissed off the government, those short-tempered folk that were obsessed with controlling anything and everything in their path. Halos knew that a lot of it was necessary, with the world falling apart and humanity dying, but sometimes she hated her job. It left her haunted, and hunted, among other things.

Halos turned her head to watch a sleek black horse trot towards them, a beautiful beast, but dangerous as well. The creature seemed so gentle and calm as it stepped towards her and nudged her with its snout. The urge to reach out and stroke the animal's mane popped up, but she shoved it back down. Halos knew how loyal horses were to their masters, and didn't want to set the animal off, as Z no doubt had it trained to hunt as well.

She narrowed her eyes at the other woman as she taunted her again. Outrun a horse? Certainly not. Honestly, there was no need for all of this woman's threats. Halos was tough, but Z certainly had the upper hand in this situation. And she knew that, which made her bitter, and made her feel weak and useless. She spat towards the other woman's feet, angry because she knew that she needed to stay awake to keep her mind alert, in case if she needed to escape, but also knowing that if she didn't do as this woman told her, she would surely drug her again, and then she wouldn't be able to defend herself at all. She shucked the blanket away and sat the tin cup aside. "I don't need your pity," she spat, "You're just a child. You think you know how this world works, but you don't." She crossed her arms over her breast, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum herself. This other woman had weapons and beasts to aid her. All Halos had was her wit and her strength.

Returning irritation with a wicked grin was never the appropriate response, but Zalea had never been very proper, “You’re quite right, which is why I kill people like you for money,” she had the audacity to wink and continued to beam. Anger gave her life. There had to be guilt, buried deep inside of Halos, and she was going to pull it out like a magic trick. First, though, first she needed wrath. She needed deep, compelling rage. 

Zalea watched as the woman took a hesitant sip from the mug. She pulled on hers, then set it down on the ground next to her, pulling out the sadly diminishing bag of tobacco from inside her jacket. An unwilling sigh fell from her as she rolled, then lit, an even tinier cigarette than before. A couple of drags later, she shrugged, “Maybe I did do something,” she answered slowly, “Or maybe I’m simply not the type to follow the rules that you follow. Corvus has been taking children and mothers away since the beginning. Nature does what nature wants, if humanity is supposed to die out, we have to stop fighting.” 

Icarus nudged Halos gently. He was drawn to intensity in a different way. He felt the urge to comfort when Zalea hurt. Though he wouldn’t betray her, he was always there to pick up the pieces that she threw around. He could feel her frustration, and he could feel Zalea’s delight. The prod was a simple, quiet warning. 

She let go another abrupt laugh, this one longer and with a hint of sincere gratification, “You’re right again,” she said delightedly, “I am a child. I never claimed to know how anything works, all I want is my family. And you took them from me,” there was a serious pause, “Now shut the hell up and sleep.” 

After burning her cigarette down to her fingertips, she smashed it into the dirt, then fixed the fire. She curled up next to it and was asleep within minutes. Icarus never moved, except to throw his head towards the flames. 

She was awake before the sun rose. 

Halos was not only baffled, but angry. This woman, she didn't know what to think of her. On one hand, she was terrified, as the other woman held her life in her hands, and could crush her at any moment, although for some reason she had held out on doing so when she'd first had her chance. Which meant that she wanted something from her, as well. And she wasn't shy to state what it was that she wanted either. Z was blaming her for losing her family, but Halos might not have even been the one to take them from her. Yes, she had been a member of Corvus for many years, had in fact been doing their dirty work for nearly a decade, like some kind of slave, and she had indeed torn many families apart over the years. But there were others, too. Others, some much stronger and more wicked than herself, who did work even dirtier than her own. Halos felt a bit of sympathy and guilt for the woman now, but she didn't dare let it show. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, saying nothing. This woman was much too angry to be reasoned with right now.

Soon enough, the other woman was fast asleep and Halos was left with only the horse's company. Shivering in the night air, Halos peeked a glance at the other woman to make sure that she was indeed asleep, and then, feeling like a traitor to herself, reached for the blanket again and wrapped it tight around her bare shoulders. There was still a stinging in her side, reminding her that she mustn't let her guard down. This would have been an opportune moment to try to escape, if not for the horse. That damned horse, with it's large wise eyes staring back at her through the silence. She could tell that the beast knew she was considering trying to escape, and at that moment ducked its head and flared its nostrils, a warning. There was something like compassion in its gaze. So she stayed put, telling herself that she wouldn't have the strength to try to make a break for it, and she would only end up getting lost anyway.

Halos didn't end up sleeping very much through the night. She practically worried herself to tears over the first hour alone, and was grateful that she was able to stifle her sobs well enough that she didn't wake the other woman. The sobs rocked her body like tidal waves, guilt overcoming her. She wasn't so much afraid for her life as she was angry at herself for all the things she had done that had led up to this moment. All the fragile, defenseless infants she had murdered and turned into enslaved test subjects for the sake of "research", in this context another word for Corvus continually spinning their wheels, trying to get a handle on the dying population situation that didn't seem like it could possibly be fixed. By the time she finally passed out, her eyes were bloodshot red and she damn near hated herself, didn't even blame this woman for wanting to kill her anymore.

And there were the nightmares, as always. Except this time, she was the test subject. She was the infant being ripped apart for the sake of "science," a small, screaming babe laid pale and lifeless on the examination table, and Z was the doctor looming over her, hands covered in her blood. It was barely an hour later whenever Halos jerked awake again, covered in a mixture of sweat and dirt, her eyes still bloodshot, tears still streaming down her face. Her body ached, especially the area where Z had sliced into her skin last night. She wasn't so much awake as she was in a fear-induced panic mode, a terrible state for her nightmares to have left her in, because there was Z right across from her, just barely waking up herself.

And suddenly, Halos was bolting across the distance between them, arms outstretched before her, and then her hands were wrapped tight around the other woman's neck, squeezing with all the force she could muster. All she could think was that she was ashamed of what her life had become, but she wasn't ready to give up on it just yet.

She had been dreaming sweetly, her family sitting around a debris fire, Zalea passing out odd chunks of meat. Once she realized the meat was human limbs, she threw up on her family’s feet. They were laughing, smiling, drinking and scolding her for not enjoying herself. Revolted and still nauseated, she took off running, away from the only people she had ever loved. Even the baby had been gnawing on fingers with painted nails. 

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

Her body started to stir. The sun hadn’t rose yet, she couldn’t see the light behind her eyelids, but before she could fully wake there were hands around her neck. 

Eyes flew open, and her own hands were reaching towards Halos’ hair. Her fingers couldn’t close on anything, and for one sickening moment, she thought this little woman might actually kill her. Her gaze moved towards Icarus, who was simply staring. Zalea tried to call out, and he threw his head. Having a facetious stallion as your guardian wasn’t always the best choice.

She tried a different approach, though consciousness was slipping through her fingers faster than water. She focused her mind, then grasped the knife that was at her side. Without thinking, she sliced Halos in the arm, barely missing an artery. Thick blood oozed from it. Now Icarus decided to act. He crossed in the distance in six easy strides and threw his body into Halos. 

Zalea’s vision blackened momentarily.

She threw her eyes open, once, twice, three times before they finally stayed.

“You god damn sneaky bitch,” she said quietly. Icarus stood over Halos, hooves planted over her shoulders and nose in her face, breath pouring into her mouth, “Even he trusted you wouldn’t try something this fucking stupid.”

Anger poured from her. 

She dug through one of the three bags for a few minutes before finding a long piece of rope. She pulled Halos to her feet and wrapped the cord around her hands, then pushed her to her knees so she could tether her wrists and ankles together, “And to think I was going to make you breakfast,” sarcasm dripped from her low, raspy voice, “You fucked up.” 

If it weren't the nightmares, Halos was almost sure she wouldn't have attacked Zalea if given any other chance. Generally, she was a non-violent person. By the time she realized exactly what she was doing, it was too late. For a brief moment, she seriously considered letting go and trying to apologize, as if that could possibly make up for trying to kill someone, but the opportunity passed in the blink of an eye. See, Halos could become a little spitfire whenever someone pissed her off, but for the most part she was hardly ever violent towards others. Sure, in this situation, she definitely had a good reason for attacking the other woman, who had kidnapped her, injured her, and threatened her life. However, she knew that she wouldn't have done anything, even if Z had driven her to the edge of death. Because Z also had a good reason for doing what she had done to her... Halos had done terrible, horrific things to many innocent, defenseless people and children, and she deserved to be forced to pay for them.

In the next moment, Z had grabbed her knife, that damned blade, and had slashed her arm with it. Blood started gushing out of the wound and the pain was unbearable, but it was nothing compared to having a huge, powerful animal run into you with all the force of - well, a horse. It was terrifying. Halos barely had time to clamp her free hand over the new cut on her arm before the horse was suddenly looming over her, fierce and angry. She didn't dare move, breathe, or even look away for fear that the beast would attack. He might have trusted her last night, but that was all over now. She really was a goddamn fucking idiot. If there had been any chance she might be able to survive or escape peacefully, it was gone now.

She didn't know what to say. Did she regret what she'd done? No, not entirely... Because this was her life at stake, and even as torn as she was that she even deserved to live in the first place, she'd never been the type to give up on something so easily. She wanted to live, she wanted to die, but mostly she wanted to live. If Z hadn't managed to grab her knife, would she even have gotten out of here alive anyway? Would Icarus have let her go? She found that hard to believe.

Well, it was all fucked now. There hung her last bit of freedom, in a long stretch of rope.

Halos tried to fight back when the other woman pulled her to her feet and started tying her hands together, but it didn't last. The slash wound had weakened her, made her vulnerable, not only from the blood loss, but from nausea. It really was ironic that she was so freaked out by the sight of her own blood, considering that she dealt with blood so often in her line of work. When Z then tied her wrists and ankles up together, she let out a short cry, the twisting of her arms putting pressure on the wound, making her nerves scream. "Go fuck yourself," she barked, spitting at the woman's feet. "You put me in this situation by taking me in the first place. So why don't you just get it over with and fucking kill me already. What are you fucking waiting for?!"

The abrupt, angry words caused her to bark out a laugh, “This isn’t about killing you. Too easy, takes all the fun out of things,” she answered with another one of her winks. Once the situation was contained, her impudent blood came flooding back into her veins, “You know things that I don’t. You may not have taken my family, but you know where they are. Or at least, you can help me figure out where they are. I need to know where you keep the little fake families. It’s around that main damn shantytown. A vault somewhere, surely, and you have a map in your head of where all the Corvus vaults are. I really am not in the mood to open up your pretty little brain, so it may be in your best interest to tell me.”

She picked Halos up by the crooks of her elbows and dragged her towards the fire. She stoked it a few times, threw more logs on top and soon it roaring again. She let her passive aggressive sink in while she dug through bags, pulling out a skillet, sausage and eggs, “Icarus find me more food.”

The horse took off, grateful to be relieved of his babysitting duty. He would come back in a few hours and lead her to more eggs, at least. She scrambled four and grabbed one plate, letting them slide onto the glass before cooking three links. She threw a sideways glance at Halos, though she was restrained Zalea knew not to underestimate her now. There was something of a survivor trapped inside that woman, and if she didn’t want to kill her so badly, she would be teaching her how to sustain herself in this dead wasteland. Zalea had her own mixed emotions about her victim. There was a moment when she realized that killing people in order to stay alive was everyone’s favorite skill.

“By the way, I won’t kill you if you tell me, but if you wait too long, I may have to. You’ll be the last person that I skin alive - it’s not pretty, but don’t worry, you’ll pass out before half is done. Maybe I’ll hold off on finishing until you wake up? I don’t know, there are too many possibilities,” she generally didn’t resort to fake threats, but deemed it necessary at this point. Halos obviously didn’t have a large amount of fear, Zalea had to work with what she had. She tossed the sausage onto the plate and grabbed a fork, then made her way to the woman. She sat in front of her, ate a bite of eggs and tore off a piece of the link, holding it to Halos’ mouth, “Eat.”

Halos narrowed her eyes at the other woman when she said she didn't plan on killing her. She'd said it before, but she didn't think she could have been serious. Now, even after Halos had attacked her, that still hadn't changed. So she must have wanted something out of her instead. Halos didn't have to ask what it was. Many people had tried to hurt her before, all demanding to know why she had taken their loved ones away from them, but there hadn't been anyone else to go so far with it as that one. She'd been attacked before, certainly threatened, but never kidnapped. This was something entirely new. She was terrified.

Halos didn't say anything as Z dragged her over to the fire. The warmth was nice, but she was still angry. She didn't even look at Z, simply stared at the fire as she pulled out a skillet and a few other items from her bag and started cooking. It wasn't until the woman started speaking again that she finally looked up. Her heart started pounding while she talked about skinning her alive if she didn't tell her what she wanted to know, just the images that flashed through her mind were enough to make her stomach weak. She didn't doubt that other woman was capable of such things, but she wasn't sure how much she believed that she would actually do them. If Z was lying, she was a good liar. But so was Halos. She kept any hint of emotion off of her face, just pursed her lips and gave her a dismissive "hmph."

She didn't want to seem weak, didn't want to give in, but Halos was starving. When the other woman offered her part of the sausage link, she didn't fight her. She chewed it slowly, savoring it. Knowing it could be the last she got to eat for a while, especially with what she planned on saying next.

"You know... I'm an important member of my group, you really don't think someone will come looking for me? And when they do, they'll find you. Because see, Corvus always finds what they're looking for, some way or another. And if your family is even still alive, you'll certainly never see them again after that, because you'll either be dead, or they'll kill them right in front of you," Halos was angry, or else she wouldn't have been saying these things. She knew she was only fueling the fire, but she didn't necessarily care. "If I help you, they will find me out. And then it won't even matter that you didn't kill me, because they will." Stubborn as ever, she went on, "So why should I help you? What the hell are you going to do for me in return, huh?"

Zalea slowly fed her another bite, looking more delighted than ever. She was pulling out the rage, and after anger came despair, then information. A smile lifted her lips, “Oh, I expect they’ll try. Fortunately I have a few tactics - you don’t think I haven’t done this before, do you?” her grin widened while she stabbed a few eggs for herself, “We’re moving this afternoon to one of my many well hidden homes, and if they did happen to stumble upon us, well, how many would they send on a search party? An army? Perhaps, and I hate to rain on your beautiful everyone loves me parade, but I could kill at least fifty with the simple traps I’ve set up around my hiding spots. Then there are more inside - oh, and tunnels,” her smile progressed to laughter, “You’re fucked.”

She blatantly ignored all that was said about her family. If they killed them in front of her, every single one of them would regret it. Zalea was not simply vengeful, she was wicked. Her mind was constantly plotting, and the years alone had turned her into an atrocious villain.

“But now is not the time for this blabbering. Here’s Icarus and a friend for you. She’s sweet, if a little feisty and nameless, call her whatever you’d like,” Zalea stood, approaching the two horses. The mare was dappled grey, back shins wrapped in black stockings and a face that was wilder than Icarus’. She stood by Halos while Zalea packed and threw bags onto the both of them, “I hope you can ride bareback,” she said, smothering the fire, scattering the ashes and throwing half burnt logs as far as possible. She covered the scarred earth with dirt then dusted off her hands with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“Even my stallion can cover his tracks. You’ll learn that we’re invisible to all. That doesn’t mean I don’t account for chance, however, so if you’d like to try leave bread crumbs, go right ahead. I’ve needed a challenge for a few years now,” she untied her hands and feet, keeping a firm hold on her wrists and lifting her onto the mare. An unnecessary act, but since she needed her to see that she was the one in charge, “If you stop following me, or pull some sneaky bullshit… this horse is not as friendly as Icarus.”

Nothing was more frustrating than someone making fun of you when you were angry with them. Zalea was dismissive, hardly even phased by what she was saying. She couldn't even merit a response for Halos' demand that she deserved something in return for helping her, and that terrified Halos, because it meant that she was going in blind here. The other woman could easily force her into giving her the information she needed if she wasn't going to give it willingly. She might not kill her herself, but she wasn't going to help her either. She'd get what she wanted and then probably just leave her to fend for herself afterward. Why would she help her anyway, with all that Halos had done? She might not have been responsible for what happened to Z's family, but she was responsible for the disappearance and death of many, many others. It felt like all she'd been working for the past eight years had resulted in nothing but pain and destruction. She didn't deserve to live, and she certainly didn't blame Z if she was unwilling to help her after she got whatever information she needed from her.

Icarus reappeared shortly later, this time accompanied by another horse. It was then that Halos realized that the horse wasn't just company for Z, it was also her only method of travel aside from walking wherever she went. Halos tensed up when the other grabbed her by her wrists and started untying her. She hadn't ridden a horse in years, and certainly not bareback. Sure, she'd been on horse-drawn wagons to take her to the Corvus headquarters building where she worked, but other than that she mostly walked wherever she went. She hardly ever left the city, after all. She mostly worked in the labs. Her test subjects were kept in prisons separate from the lab area and brought to her in shackles by burly, emotionless humanized weapons and dumped at her feet like trash, still in chains. She knew where they were held, knew the outlines of the entire facility, the defense protocols, but she'd certainly never kidnapped someone from their own home on her own, so she'd never had to travel very far to get wherever she needed to go.

She shrieked whenever she Z grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto the horse. She didn't know what she was surprised that the other woman was able to lift her up, she was taller than her, and clearly stronger. Sitting atop the horse was uncomfortable, and for a moment she struggled with where to put her hands, before finally grabbing onto the mare's mane at the back of her neck. She shot Z a disparaging look. She'd never felt so weak in her life. The anger was dissipating now, fading into uneasiness again. There was no point fighting anymore, she didn't have any choice but to give in and let the horse lead her along behind Icarus and Z. She kept silent for a long while, not even paying attention to where they were going anymore, just thinking, staring at Z's back.

When she finally spoke, her voice was rough, but all the anger and frustration was gone. "How long have you separated from your family?"

“Far south, Icarus.”

They started at an easy walk, Zalea could tell Halos was uncomfortable on the mare. It would only take a few hours before she felt at ease. She didn’t answer the question at first, pulling out the bag of tobacco instead. She smashed the leaves inside of a paper, rolled and licked the seam, then lit.

“Six years and forty-seven days,” tendrils of smoke floated from the edges of her mouth. She pulled on the cigarette, blowing out three tiny, sloppy rings, “My sister and I were pregnant. Corvus came in broad daylight, didn’t even bother to knock before smashing the door in. My husband was notorious for avoiding the law - they assumed we would run, and run quickly. We still did. There was a tunnel in our house, leading right outside the town, that same damn town I stole you from-” she paused here, giving Halos an amused glance, “-but when we opened the hatch on the other end, they were waiting.”

The story ended there, bits and pieces missing, and Zalea couldn’t be bothered to fill in the gaps. She had obviously escaped, but only after losing her child. Security slackened when you weren’t carrying a prize.

“You better name that mare,” she expertly moved the conversation back to reality, “She may not try and eat you if you do. Only carnivore horse I’ve ever met…” despite herself, a giggle escaped her.

It took the rest of the day to cross the southern end of the wastelands, and halfway Zalea pushed Halos to run. There were trees in the south, dead, twisted and battered without any foliage, but they were trees. There was a magnificent cliff in front of them, and once they reached it, Zalea hopped down and started to run her fingers across the dusty rocks. After a few minutes, she sighed irritably and called for Icarus, “We’re in the wrong spot, you no good beast. Further west.”

They ran alongside until she saw the slight aberration in the surface. She pulled to a stop and jumped off, unbuckling her bags from both horses and yelling at them to get gone. There was a space between the cliff, person sized, with a set of natural stairs leading into and up the crag. Motioning for Halos to walk in front, they started up them. It was an oddity and a blessing, and a pain to climb, but there was a point when the stairs morphed and split into several different tunnels. Zalea guided Halos down the one second to the left, and darkness absorbed them for at least forty minutes. There were more turns, and at the first one, she lit a torch that was hanging from the ceiling. She took the lead.

“Watch your step, please. Put your feet where I put mine.”

They came upon an archway. She walked through it and lit several torches, showing an unusual home. There were seats carved into the rocks, along with a strange table and a bed with beautiful blankets covering it. There was an assortment of objects inside, hanging, sitting or wrapped carefully around carvings.

Zalea set the bags on the ground, and immediately started a fire in the center, where she had made a small pit, “I’m fucking starving. What do we want? Boar or bird?”

Halos listened to Z’s story with genuine curiosity, watching the other intently as she spoke. By the end of it, she couldn’t help but stare. No wonder Corvus had targeted Z’s family, if both she and her sister had been pregnant at the same time. Even six years ago, fertility had been dying out and very few were able to reproduce. To have it run in your family as it clearly did in Z’s, that would have been a spectacular find to Corvus, and especially Halos’s division, because it meant a lot of test subjects to study. She wondered vaguely what type of question might be deemed too inappropriate to ask of someone who held her life in their hands, but in the end decided to keep her mouth shut.

She stared down at the mare she sat atop. Her body ached from the bareback riding, but the beast hadn’t betrayed her yet. After Icarus had attacked her to defend his master, she’d realized not to underestimate any animal in Zalea’s control. However, if this horse didn’t even have a name, it must have been a fairly new one. And so far, she liked this horse. Such a dependable animal deserved a good name. “I’ve already decided on something,” she stroked the horse’s neck, marveling at the strength of the muscles beneath its skin. “Nyla…”

It’d been so long since Halos had been out in the wild for anything more than a field mission, she almost forgot how dangerous her circumstances were, distracted as she was by the scenery and wonders of the land. It amazed her how well Z seemed to know the landscape, but then, this was her territory, so of course she would know it well. Her anger had melted away long ago, and by now she was just exhausted, following along with whatever the other woman told her to do. There was no use fighting, when she couldn’t have gotten very far even if she did manage to escape. She wasn’t sure how willing she was to give Z the information she wanted, knowing that it would mean putting her own life at risk, but then, she didn’t have many other options.

Finally, they stopped. Halos climbed off the horse and teetered in place, barely able to stand after so long riding bareback on a horse for her first time. But they weren’t coming to a stop any time soon. They went from horse travel to foot travel. She took a shaky inhale before starting up the steps carved into the cliff. She didn’t know where the path was leading her, but she sure as hell knew she wouldn’t be able to find her way back on her own. In the darkness of the tunnels, all she could focus on was her heart hammering away in her chest and Z’s footsteps beside her own. She didn’t argue, didn’t try to run or sneak away, simply followed whatever orders Z gave her. It felt weak to give in so easily, but what choice did she really have?

When they finally reached their destination, Halos was amazed at how beautiful it was. She marveled at this place that she could only assume was Z’s secret home, wandering away for a moment to look at each different piece of the room. After a moment, she went to the fire Z had started in the middle of the room and all but collapsed at the edge of it, her muscles screaming, her body weak from the extensive climb and lack of food over the course of the day. At the mention of food, her entire body stood at attention. “Boar,” she decided, feeling guiltier still, but a girl had to eat, right?

She sat still for a long time, warming her hands on the heat of the fire, before finally looking back to Z. “You know, if I help you, I can’t guarantee your family is still alive, or will even survive the fight Corvus will put up with you trying to take them back.” She wasn’t saying that she was going to help, but she at least wanted Z to know it wouldn’t be an easy task. “I don’t blame you for holding me responsible, but I might not have even been the one at the forefront of their case. Marek is the one who assigns cases, I just do what I’m told to do.”

i took too long to reply, this post is super awkward