Skarlet goes on rampage

Shadow – Thursday, May 1, 2014 1:00 AM
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Skarlet descended the stage, brandished the tantos that had previously been resting on her back, gazed deep into my eyes and simply uttered the following: let’s rock. Sure, I nodded – it’s not like she’d genuinely care about my reply.

She began at the photo wall, swiftly slitting the throat of the first fan that met her gaze – a man that was thoughtless enough to launch a serious attempt on her life, armed with her own kunai. Admittedly, I found his attempt amusing enough. I watched him fall limp onto the ground as blood gently trickled down the edge of Skarlet’s blade. But then the rest came, one after the other – only to fall one by one. I stood there dumbfounded, watching as she sliced and diced her own fans to oblivion. For fuck’s sake, there won’t be any of them left at the rate she’s going, I thought.

I quickly took hold of her arm and grabbed her towards the corridor; less people in that area, you see. And yet, despite my best efforts to pull her away, a whole army of suicidal fans gave chase. Yeah, and it’s the *zombies* they had to lock way, I growled the words in frustration. Soon enough the echo of incessant screams and groans reached the ears of a nearby squad, who believed they possessed enough firepower of their own to be able to take their chances with Skarlet. However, it only took a handful of seconds for them to be in shit deep enough that not even the Peter Stormare would be able to talk his way out of.

Skarlet, using the group as a training dummy of sorts, demonstrated all her combos. As the floor became a sea of blood and intestines, my mind’s eye could clearly see the falling sand in the hourglass: this is how I’ll die, I soon realized. She continues her massacre as I grow old, my legs give in, I cripple under my own weight onto the floor, blood entering my mouth and my lungs as I drown in freshly-spilled vitae. Would she even notice my demise? And then, all voices died, and I was pulled back into reality.

I was surrounded by corpses of soldiers, while Skarlet herself was nowhere to be seen. I found her in front of a console. Her eyes turned the color of her outfit as she assumed a combat stance before the Xbox. She’s gone mad, I thought, as she raised her tantos to strike. At that moment, the guardian spirit of the console itself appeared in front of her, ready to defend all that is sacred to a gamer: the machine, the controller, but most importantly: the game itself.

Like a hot knife through butter, Skarlet’s blades sliced the apparition in two. While this went down, I managed to get close to her just in time to pull her back into a nearby corridor.

“Mozart! How nice of you show up!” – she exclaimed, and made her way to Mozart. She hugged him. The thing is, Mozart was hardly alive: he was but a cardboard cutout advertising his former genius. Or rather, the chocolate named after him “Mozart...?”, she whispered. No answer came. Having grown tired of waiting for a reply, she swiftly decapitated the famed composer. And then it hit me.

Would a man his age be able to grab her attention? To amaze her? To soothe her? Thankfully, I was lucky enough to have Alphonse de Marigot nearby, with his striking appearance, brilliant style and gentlemanly disposition.

Skarlet, much as I expected, underwent a whole 180 as the comte met her gaze. His vibrant personality spellbound her. His unmatched wit fascinated her.

The very air appeared to be boiling around them as the count brought the ruthless, untrusting warrior under his influence. And yet she was still not at ease – a fact that began to have an effect on de Marigot’s restless nature.

“You bore me to tears”, Alphonse began, which, truth be told, surprised even me.

The area was overcome by heavy silence – however, it lasted mere seconds.

Skarlet’s eyes flashed crimson, her old self taking over once again. She teleported behind de Marigot and slit his throat. She would not even give him the satisfaction of a proper reply.

And so ended their brief romance. It may have seemed an eternity for one man; in reality, it was but a brief moment in the annals of history.

And what happened to Skarlet since, you may ask? She continues to slaughter her friends and allies as I wait and await for everything to be overrun by blood.

My special thanks to Gare for the English version. Also special thanks to DiSister and Drunkzio for being my Skarlet and de Marigot, and an inspiration for the story.


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