This is such crap. I have major writer's block, so beware the crappyness! BEWARE!

Sooo sorry for the crappyness! This chapter is so choppy and…crappy! (dies)

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue


Chapter 8: Silhouette

I haven't spoken to him. Not since that incident when I had confronted him about my real identity. I was so livid and hurt by the fact that I was merely a clone for Meanie-Head's sick pleasure.

Meanie-Head acknowledged my hatred and sadness by ignoring me. He had his own way of caring, and he knew that if he came near me I would attack him. It was his way of showing his respect of my space and feelings. Whenever we passed in the hallway I would glare and stare straightforward, and he would give me a sad, mourning look that I subconsciously noticed. Whenever I would get back to my room I would cry, and my Queen would try to comfort me in vain.

I had carelessly thrown my blue-eyed doll in the corner with disdain, and ordered my Queen not to go near him.

But I knew she disobeyed my orders. At night, when she thought I was sleeping, she would leave my side to go by his, and would whisper a secret language to his deaf ears. At first I was furious, but refrained myself from getting up and beating her for defying me. After many nights I would calm down, and her nightly visits to the corner became more frequent. I would listen to her soft, soothing and foreign words with interest, and I often fell asleep to them. In the mornings I would find her by my side again, her hot breath teasing my neck.

I would then leave her on my large divan, disregard the soiled doll in the corner, and leave my room, and I often found myself in Medizinfrau's room. She wouldn't say anything to me, and I wouldn't say anything to her. I had returned the plant she wanted back, and I received a different one that was much less attractive. I was still pleased anyway; a plant's a plant, after all.

I was sitting on the floor in front of the pile of bones I had bothered so many moons ago, and was half tempted to bring them back to life again. I stared at the caged pile distastefully. It was much like me, being brought back from the dead in a beautiful body, and caged within its own domain, unable to be free and explore. And then it died. Would I die again? Would my soul be serene like it had been so long ago?

"It will, Vincente. In time, in time…"

I fell backwards on my back and let out a sob as a single tear slid down my face.

"When, Medizinfrau, when?"

"In time, in time…"

I let out another sob as I cupped my hands to my face, and I simply lay there on the hard, stone floor, sobbing quietly. I felt useless and I longed for death, but I was terrified of trying to kill myself. It was unknown to me as to why, but the thought of dying by my own hand almost made me retch.

"Remember these words, Vincente: What was once beautiful, immobile and useful will become ugly, capable and useless."

Those were the only words spoken between us for a long time, and then she was killed.

Meanie-Head had a henchman that followed me down to her dungeon. I shouldn't have been so careless. A scary yet magnificent woman had been killed for no reason. And it bothered me. I was mad at him, yes, I even killed the henchman so slowly he screamed all night, but it didn't quench my thirst for blood. I wanted to kill Meanie-Head, I truly did.

He took all of Medizinfrau's belongings, every last book, plant, trinket, object, animal, alchemical ingredients and tools, every table, desk, bookshelf, and tapestry. He even took the dust that had been upon her floor, hoping to have every last strand of her ancient magic.

I cried for my loss of all the trinkets I could have obtained, and the loss of the crazy old woman that I had grown fond of. And then I thought: she could predict the future; she knew she was going to die, and she didn't try to avoid it. She must have been tired of life and ready to die, or perhaps she was content with all that she had done in the world. This made me feel slightly better, but I still wanted to kill Meanie-Head.

I knew I couldn't, though. I was too weak.


"Queen…" I stated as I lay on my luxurious bed, my eyes staring straight forward to the ceiling.

"Yes, Master?"

"I want to know…everything about myself."

"What do you mean, Master? I do not understand."

I rolled over, away from her, and hugged myself.

"A long time ago. After the Goddesses created the world and the Gods, including myself, and chaos thrived."

She stayed silent for a few moments before answering.

"I do not know what you're talking about, Master."

I jolted up and stormed over to her. She looked up at me in fear, her eyes wide with the recognition that I was going to hit her. I did so; I smacked her so hard she fell out of the chair. She cupped her cheek as I walked over to her and repeatedly kicked her in the back and sides. She curled up in a ball and sobbed as I sat down in the chair that she had previously been sitting in.

A opened a drawer from the dresser and took out a small dagger. I admired its glossy sharpness and the intricate designs for a moment, and then stabbed it into my Queen's barely noticeable shadow. She screamed so loudly that my ears rang. Her back arched, showing me the pink rose between her legs as her breasts parted.

I calmly got out of the chair and inched over to her. I stared down at her wide eyes before leaning down and straddling her stomach, her breasts barely touching my inner thighs. I roughly cupped her chin to make her look at me, and I whispered coldly, my face inches above hers.

"Tell me, Love. I want to know everything about myself."

I then leaned back and removed the dagger from her shadow with malicious force, making sure to twist it a bit as I detached it from her silhouette. She screamed again, though not nearly as loud as before. She panted heavily as I straddled her, making it even harder for her to catch her breath.

She clenched her eyes closed as tears fell down the sides of her face and into her cherry hair. I played with her long locks as she began her long, bittersweet story.


(3rd Person POV)

The night sky was glowing an eerie red, and few stars were seen because of intoxicating smoke. Burning flesh and wood filled the air with its rank aroma, and screams of pain and fear cut through the chaotic night.

"Hey! Hebzucht! Look at that!"

The being named Hebzucht averted his eyes from the now dead body to stare up into the sky, where a hand was directed. He snorted as the smoke-stained wind blew his long, wild hair in his face. He cursed loudly as he dropped the corpse and re-tied the long, loose locks back into a tight braid. The only other live being in the area besides Hebzucht laughed with much enthusiasm. A glare was all he got in return.

"You need to lighten up!" the other being laughed, then looked back up to the sky. "Ahh…you missed it, Hebzucht. She was so beautiful." He said quietly, a smile still plastered on his pale face. Hebzucht merely ignored him and began to walk across the sea of corpses, leaving a sky-gazer and many bloody and mangled carcasses behind.




"What was it…that you saw?"

"When? I saw many things, Hebzucht."

The red-eyed god stared into violet orbs with malice and irritation, and he got a giggle in return.

"I know, I know…What you mean, I mean. I mean I know what you mean. I mean…"

"TELL me, Afgunst. I'm in no mood for your perpetual silliness."

"My, my, anxious are we? Hmm…I don't think I'll tell you what I saw."

The violet-eyed god barely had enough time to dodge the blade swung at his neck. He rolled backwards on sleek and intricately designed tiles, and squatted as she stared up at the being that had almost killed him.

"Ah, you're so mean, Hebzucht. I'm tired, and you could've killed me…again."


"I'll tell you. But first I want someth-"

"You're captain of the left fleet. Does that fit your desires?"

"Oh, yes, Hebzucht…But…what of the previous captain?"

"Do what you wish with him."

"Oooh! Hebzucht! How I love you so!" he began bounding over towards the golden-clad being sitting in the only chair in the large, expansive room, and before Hebzucht could do anything, arms were thrown around his back in a tight hug. He felt a small peck on his cheek, and his hands grasped the stone frogs on the arms of his chair in irritation. Afgunst sat on his lap, chest to chest with him. Hebzucht stared into his violet eyes, waiting for him to tell him what he wanted to know.

The violet-eyed god grinned slyly as he shifted his hips against Hebzucht's, causing another irritated look to be thrown his way. His pale hands cupped the cheeks of an aggravated face, and his lips met the other's in a bruising kiss.

Clothes were lost, along with any form of discreetness. Two bodies glistened with sweat, and the tiled floor was used in a way that it wasn't supposed to. A question asked long ago was answered in a lust filled gasp, and the only acknowledgement of the answer was a harsh thrust of the hips.


"Pink hair, you said?"

"Oh, yes. She was wrapped in some type of vine, and was otherwise nude. She was too far for me to be able to see her nipples, though. Ahh…you should have seen her, Hebby! She was gorgeous!"

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"I do in public. But we're alone now, aren't we? Can't I call you that when we're alone?"


"But it's such an endearing nickname!"


"You can call me 'Affy' or 'Gunsty'."

"Afgunst, shut your mouth before I have to rip it off your pretty little face."

"Oho, now you're saying I'm pretty? I'm flattered, Hebby."

A kick was thrown towards the enthusiastic god, but was easily dodged. Afgunst ran out of the room giggling, his emerald-clad hips swinging back and forth in a robust manner. Hebzucht smacked his forehead in irritation and disbelief. A feared god wasn't supposed to act like a filthy, human whore.

His hand slowly ran down his face in an attempt to get rid of the disturbing image, and he got up from his chair to bid goodbye to the violet-eyed god. Staying over for the night was simply out of the question.


She ran. She ran as fast as she could, but even then, it wasn't fast enough. Her head was suddenly separated from her body, and blood gushed out like a fountain. Her body suddenly fell upon the sea of decaying corpses, only adding another subject to the macabre painting. The baby that was in her arms only moments ago was flung a few feet forward, and started crying ambiguously, a gurgling sound in the back of its throat.

The killer of the woman could be heard laughing from behind, and bounding footsteps could be heard squishing across the carcasses. The killer squatted by her, and agile fingers rummaged through the woman's clothing, trying to find anything of value. Finding none, the killer quickly stripped the headless and still bleeding body before prying apart limp legs. The killer let out a cackle as it untied the front of its pants, permitting a throbbing erection to be seen by the soulless eyes around it. The killer was then known as a 'he', and he ravaged the woman's corpse in a ghastly manner, his hips thrusting violently.

The woman's baby could still be heard squealing not far off, wanting attention that it would get none too soon.

"I see you're still a necrophiliac."

The necrophiliac himself jerked his head to look behind him, and he gave a yellow-toothed grin to the god that smirked down at the revolting display. He continued to thrust his hips, and only moments after his seed was sprung forth into the dead body. At least he didn't have to worry about getting her pregnant.

He cackled as he retied the front of his pants, then threw the headless corpse to the side and continued to crawl to the howling baby.

"Oh, Trots, don't tell me you're going to fuck the baby, too?"

Another cackle was heard from the necrophiliac known as 'Trots', and the baby squealed even louder for a moment before going completely silent. A sickening sucking sound was heard, and Trots turned around to face the god behind him, one eye in his hand, where a long, bloody pink vessel hung from his mouth. He grinned and held up the eye in his hand, "Ye want one, Hebzucht?" he asked.

The god chuckled before walking forward and taking the said eye. "It's rare. A human baby's eye, I mean." He stated, slightly honored that Trots would give him such a treat.

"Enjoy it, then."

And he did. He savored the crunch, the squirting juices, the blood, and the chewy texture afterwards.

He licked his lips and watched as Trots removed the blanket around the baby, revealing it to be a boy. Trots' erection was free once again, and, like the baby's mother, he violated it in a way that was unspeakable.

Hebzucht merely watched, wishing the baby was still alive so he could hear its screams.


"Afgunst! Haven't seen ye in awhile!"

"By the Goddesses, Trots, is that you?"

"Aye, it be me!"

"My favorite necrophiliac! C'mere, you!"

The two gods relished in a tight, bonding hug. They laughed and patted each other's backs, leaving Hebzucht to stand there and watch.

The separated from their hug and stared fondly at one another.

"Damn, it's been awhile, eh?"

"Yes, yes, it has. Hebby, where did you find him?" the violet-eyed god asked, averting his gaze from the necrophiliac to the yellow-clad god.

Hebzucht looked up at Afgunst with an obvious frown at the nickname, but answered the question nonetheless. "He was out near the outskirts of the desert, going on a little killing spree."

"And gettin' some, too I bet, if you know what I mean." Afgunst said, nudging Trots with his elbow, a malicious glint in his eyes. Trots merely cackled slightly, and nodded his head, causing wild, purple hair to bounce.

"I say we celebrate this here reunion! It's not ever'day three gods get together after hundreds 'o years!" Trots grinned, showing off his yellowed teeth.

"I agree! Hebby, I hope you don't mind hosting a celebration at your castle."

Hebzucht smiled. If it were for any other occasion, he wouldn't allow it. But, like Trots said, it's not "ever'day" three gods get together after hundreds of years.


It was only a month later that all seven of the gods got together. Each had strayed from their original domains, an odd, instinctive feeling to go. Hebzucht, however, didn't go It seemed that all the others had somehow found their way to his domain. Afgunst, of course, was the first, then Trots. After that, Toorn came along and caused havoc with his constant moodswings and outbursts of anger. Verlangen came afterwards, his voice and looks living up to his name. Then Gluttony came along, the only female of the bunch, her wide form barely able to fit in a large dress. And last, as presumed, was Sloth. Truth be told, his domain was closest to Hebzucht's, and he started his journey before any of the others, but still arrived last.

When he finally did arrive, however, the gods celebrated like they hadn't ever before. Literally tons of ale and expensive wines were drunk, exotic foods were eaten, the prettiest of slaves were given as gifts, and jewelry was exchanged, along with stories that each individual told. As was custom, they went on a massive killing spree, adding to the piles of decayed corpses until they could barely open the doors to shacks to get to more people. Hebzucht, of course, left his army to twiddle their thumbs. This was the occasion of a lifetime, and his men weren't going to ruin it for the gods. Trots was always found missing after these massacres, though the other gods didn't question what he was doing: they already knew.

Sometimes Hebzucht would catch a glimpse of the pink-haired being that Afgunst had seen many moons ago, and he had an unmistakable yearning that matched his name. He knew what it was, but he tried his best to keep the feeling down. It was impossible, however: He wanted the pink-haired woman.

One night, after a small massacre, he went after her, manipulating the shadows and coaxing them into hiding his form. She would fly over the massive ocean of dead bodies, bringing few back to life and leaving many dead. She told them to run, run east and hide, so the gods will not get you. Hebzucht watched this spectacle with awe and slight irritation. She was bringing back the dead, an extraordinary feat in itself, but she was bringing back people that he and the other gods had killed.

Ah, well. Could always kill them again, right?

He followed her, the pink trails of light unmistakable against the darkness of the night. She hovered over trees when he went through them; she tip-toed across water when he swam through it; and she flew over mountains when he climbed them. He was starting to think about going back; this woman was giving him the chase of his life. However, the desire for her quickly ran these thoughts out of his mind, and he continued on. When he wanted something, he would get it.

He had followed her throughout the night and into the next morning. The sun was starting to come up, and he was getting rather irksome. Hours past, and the sun was suddenly high overhead, signaling it to be the afternoon. His hopes for her to stop dropped, but suddenly spiked up when he saw her go into a cave, and a feral grin spread across his face as he followed her.

The first few steps were dark, but the cave suddenly lit up with an unnatural light that resonated from an eccentric fountain. Water tumbled down slowly, and looked like translucent curtains that were blowing in the wind. He walked up to the fountain, and stood before it. He stared down at a strange plaque and furrowed his brows before grinning and showing off his fangs. His lips perked together, though a small 'o' shaped opening could be seen between his top and bottom lip. He whistled a short, simple tune that had been sung by the Goddesses themselves, and, like he had guessed, the pink-haired woman suddenly appeared up above the water of the fountain.

Vines were wrapped all around her body, hiding her nudity from the god's view. The vines went from the tips of her toes to the ends of her long, pink hair, giving her a natural look. Her face wasn't gorgeous, but it wasn't ugly, either. More along the lines of in-between, or "pretty". Her full, pink lips matched the color of her eyes, along with the oddly shaped make-up on her eyelids. All in all, Hebzucht was rather pleased with his find.

"Hello, Dear." He grinned at her.

She merely stared back in horror.


"Hebby! By the Goddesses, is that HER?"


"Can ye give 'er to me? I'd like to keel 'er and fuck 'er."

"She looks good enough to lick."

"I want to hit her."

"Ooooh, what a sexy body she has. Hello, dearie, come to my room later, hm?"

Hebzucht was tempted to roll his eyes but didn't, it wasn't like him to do so. The woman that was getting so much attention was within his arms, scared to death but unable to leave because of the small, yellow frog sitting on her chest, paralyzing her.

He walked across the room and set her on his throne. The frog stuck itself to her chest, staying in the same spot even though she was leaning straight up. She stared up at Hebzucht in fear and anger, wanting to get away from him and the other gods.

He suddenly grabbed a vine just beneath his yellow frog and ripped if off, causing her to gasp and squeal uncomfortably. Her breasts were completely exposed, but that wasn't good enough for him. He tore every last twig, leaf, and vine from her body, even from her hair. She sat there and sobbed, hating the fact that she was naked in front of all these murderous, infamous gods.

She suddenly felt lips against hers, and she widened her eyes in fear. Hebzucht was kissing her, and his lips had left hers to begin trailing down her neck and chest. Just as quickly as it had happened, it stopped. The golden-clad god looked behind him and waved his hand in dismissal. The other gods left in understanding. Sloth was the last out, though Hebzucht didn't wait for him. He had already started to undo his pants.


(Back to present)

"Not long after that, the Goddesses came back, and killed you off, one by one."


My Queen shook her head, telling me she didn't know, though I knew there was more to the story, and that she was lying.

"Tell me, Queen." I wiggled the dagger over her face threateningly, and she gulped before answering.

"You weren't supposed to be there. You weren't supposed to be created, to cause so much havoc, so much grief, pain, and death."

"Then why were we all there?"

"It was an accident…"

"No, why were we all there for so long? Hundreds of years? Didn't the Goddesses know what we were doing all those years? Couldn't they have stopped us then? And what about the triforce, hm? Where does that fit in?"

"They had to regain their strength to destroy what they had created. Their creations had become too powerful. YOU and the others had become too powerful. And the triforce…was well hidden. Away from your grasp."

I tapped the tip of my dagger against her chin. "And then what happened to you?"

"I went back east, to my cave, where you originally kidnapped me so long ago."

"Is it still there?"

"No. I had to relocate, that's why you found me in different cave, far from my original one."

"Hm…I see…"

I was lost in my own thoughts, and my senses were drowned out, and I didn't even see the shadow behind me until it was too late.

Pain ripped itself through my back and chest, and I stared straight forward, eyes wide as I slowly looked down. My own sword, my darkened clone of the Master Sword, was pierced straight through me from behind. Blood dribbled out of my mouth, and my Queen squirmed underneath me, obviously disgusted at the blood that was flowing onto her stomach and chest.

She miraculously got out from underneath me and curled up in a ball as she stared at me, then at something from behind me. My sword was quickly withdrawn and I heard it clack across the floor as it was thrown. I fell over on my side, too weak to even look up at the person that had so fatally wounded me. I suddenly felt very cold, and I huddled into myself to try and stay warm. The pain worsened with each breath, and I saw my Queen's lips move, though I didn't hear her words. Her eyes stared at me in disdain and heartlessness. She quickly got up and ran out of my door, never to come back to this room again. I swallowed a massive gulp of coppery liquid that I knew was blood, and my sight started to blacken.

Before it did completely, however, I saw my blue-eyed pet walk out the doorway, but not before he looked back at me with a look filled with hate and malice.

Medizinfrau's words rang in my ears as I died: "What was once beautiful, immobile and useful will become ugly, capable and useless."

And at that moment I knew that she was talking about The Hero. I used him as a doll, and suddenly the doll had a soul. Just like Meanie-Head had used me as a doll, and the doll had a soul. I was merely a remnant of The Hero, his body, and his power. I followed behind him; I would never be him, not to Meanie-Head, not to anyone. That's all I was: a silhouette.


Zomg, the end! I made Pride (Trots) a necrophiliac XD I thought it was funny. He entertained me X3 Sooooo sorry for the crappyness! Muh GAWD! But, I had to get this done, right? RIGHT? Again, please forgive me D:

Reviews are MUCH adored; I even have a little shrine for them with candles and everything! X3