I do not own Elfen Lied in any way. This is a work of ficton. Any similarities between this story and any others is purely a coincidence and unintended. Please read and submit. Now it's time to begin the story.
Elfen Lied: The Last Diclonius
The room sat in infinite darkness. A black veil spread to every corner, eating out every last ounce of light. It was a piercing darkness. An endless void that could penetrate the very soul, drying up all hope until only despair remains. It was also eerily silent. As if the shadows could suck out all sound from the air. It felt like death lurked inside, waiting to strike on any unsuspecting victim. Such a haunting environment would have been maddening to anyone else. But for the chambers sole occupant, it was all he had every known.
He sat calmly among the familiar shadows. The only sound that could be heard was the occasional cry of the chains that bound him to the wall as he shifted his body for better comfort. Judging by how long it had been since the florescent lights had gone out, he assumed it was some time in the late evening. He hardly ever slept. He was content to spend his evenings in the lonely, yet friendly dark.
He had spent the entirety of his life on this island research facility. Abandoned by his parents at birth, he had been subjected to torturous experiments day by day. And every evening he'd pray for death's sweet freedom. Prayed that he would fall asleep and never wake up. But as time went on, he slowly grew more and more accustomed to the conditions of his life. Now he accepted the truth of his existence. He would always suffer. That was his fate. It was the fate of all diclonius. They would never be able to find happiness. At least so long as the humans existed.
The laboratory doors on the opposite side of the room sprang to life, a small portal of light cutting through the dark veil. The door of light resembled that of the light leading one out of hell and into paradise. After a moment's stillness, the lights above flashed on, shattering the darkness in an instant. He had to squint his eyes to protect his pupils from the sudden illumination. The sound of footsteps on the tile floor began to make their way toward him. As the steps grew louder with every step, he was curious as to who would be visiting him so late at night. After all, access to him was very restricted. Whoever they were, he was certain of two things. One, they didn't sleep much either. And two, the were very, very important.
The feet came to a halt a few meters in front of him, he gingerly opened his eyes to let them adjust themselves to the light. Towering over him was the figure of an old man in an expensive looking business suit. His wrinkled body and gray hair were common for a man of his age, but it was his face that betrayed all other features. His eyes were sunken, and darker then the shadows that had previously engulfed the room. Evidence to his colder then steel soul. His skin was so tightly stretched across his face you could almost see every contour and every detail of his skull. He looked more like his skin was to small for his bones. And on his skeletal face he wore his usual demonic smile. This was the face of Director Kakuzawa.
Kakuzawa stared down at the body of Number 86. He was naked, and his skin was covered with dried blood. He never saw it necessary to provide his "subjects" with the dignity of clothing. If 86 was bothered by his exposure, he didn't show it. Number 86.
"Good evening," he said in his usual piercing tone that exuded his dominance.
"Good evening...Director," 86 replied in a casual tone, as if he had come down here to strike up normal conversation.
Number 86 was an interesting specimen on so many different levels. He looked like most diclonius with his signature vectors, horned protrusions, sharp red eyes and pink hair. But 86 was very different. 86 had been a very cooperative specimen, much like Number 7. He had never retaliated against any human. And he had never resisted any of their experiments, seemingly shockingly casual about everything. But more importantly, he was the only male diclonius on record. Even more impressive, he was a pure diclonius and not a silpelit. Just like Lucy. 86 was a miracle of evolution. Both their births were confirmation enough of humanities downfall. They were the Adam and Eve of the next phase of humanity. And Kakuzawa had been chosen to sit at the throne of God.
"I have a job I need you to do for me," Kakuzawa said getting right to the point. He hated using diversionary tactics in conversation. He was against the idea of using 86 for this mission. But now he was getting desperate.
"Oh," 86 replied nonchalantly.
"I need you to find Lucy." A smile sung its way across 86's face. He waited for a reply, but after a moment of silence he decided to continue, "She still has yet to be apprehended. Every attempt made to capture her has failed. I would like to employ your unique abilities." The smile on 86's face transformed itself into a smug expression. The Director knew 86 was enjoying his moment of helplessness. He hated the feeling as well. It was an emotion he wasn't accustomed to feeling. Normally he was the one above all others. The puppet master pulling the strings. He didn't enjoy being made to look like a fool. But 86 would not fail him. And then, he would back were he was meant to be.
Number 86 looked up into the eyes of the old man he despised. He harbored no ill will toward anyone here, despite all the misery they had put him and the others through. But Kakuzawa was different. Only a human like him could be so arrogant. He had visited him on multiple occasions, and every time he would regale him with boring tales about his future plans for the diclonius and mankind. 86 was his only true confidant. He was as deluded as he was crazy. As if he could be a God. It was only a matter of time before he would die at the hands (he laughed internally at the irony) at one of the creatures he believed he could control.
His first impulse was to spit on his well-shined shoes. But the Director had said all he needed to say to entice 86's interest. Lucy. 86 had never met her personally, but he had heard enough. He remembered the first day she came her. The pressure he had felt in his head was so intense, it felt like a vice grip squeezing the fluids from his brain. Her presence felt intoxicating. He could sense it all. Her abilities, her powers, her sadness. She sounded magnificent.
Somewhere in-between his thoughts Kakuzawa had released him from the restraints chaining him to the wall. He examined his newly freed hands, as if they weren't really his own. After the truth and sank in, he rose to his feet to stand at his full height, standing eye to eye with the demon director. Then the voice came back.
Kill them, it commanded him, Kill them all!
It took nearly every ounce of mental prowess to defy it, and was soon able to quite it.
"I want you to go find her, and bring her back." He sounded almost polite in his request. The two just stood in silence, starring deep into the other eyes. Their eyes were like daggers. Two foes doing battle with their minds.
"Where is she?" 86 asked.
"Kamakura," Kakuzawa said flatly. 86 brushed his shoulder length hair out of his face then walked past the Director without a second glance. By the lab entrance stood two aids to help him in his preparations, and a small contingent of armed guards. About half way across the room, the Director called back to him.
"I trust you won't fail me," he said, adding just the faintest hint of a threat. 86's only reply was the soft clap of his bare feet against the smooth tile floor.
The cherry blossoms were in their full bloom as they sent gentle showers of pink petals on the streets and residents of the Kamakura prefecture. They fell particularly heavy in the garden of a house that had once been a traditional Japanese restaurant. The garden was a breathe of green, yellow, red, and several other colors and hues. Filled with various flowers, shrubs and bushes, decorative stones and a single cherry tree, it was easily the most beautiful part of the house. Sitting beneath the shade of the tree, her back pressed against the bark sat a young woman.
Huddled under the tree, she was entranced by the comfort of her surroundings. The feel of the gentle breeze against her skin. The cooling shade, a protective shield from the powerful sun. And the soft, somewhat melancholy fall of the pink flowers on the grass. This was Lucy's favorite place in the whole house. Whenever Lucy was lonely, scarred or just wanted to be left to herself, she would always retreat to the sanctuary of her tree.
Here she felt calm and protected. As if the natural beauty could banish all her nightmares and memories. It had been a few months since Lucy's return to Kaede House, and to say it was awkward would have been the most profound of understatements. They were still remembering a face that no longer existed. A face of beauty and innocence, replaced by one of beauty and tragedy.
She felt so distant from everyone. Nana and Lucy's relationship had, if possible, gotten worse since she returned. There was a mutual, unspoken dislike between the two diclonius women since their duel that neither one seemed willing to let go of. She didn't like Yuka that much either. She thought Yuka was nagging, controlling, and overly emotional. The two hardly ever spoke directly anymore. Lucy never felt comfortable when Yuka was around. And Mayu, despite all her attempts to befriend her, Lucy felt nothing but a cold apathy toward her. She was also insufferably positive at times.
Even Kohta felt far away from her. Separated on different a shore, the deepest ocean between them that no one could ever hope to cross safely. Deep down she knew she didn't deserve him. But she still loved him. She loved so completely she felt she might disappear if he stopped being there. And he loved her in return.
But she didn't understand why. Here she was, the merciless killer of both his sister and father. An action born from a jealous stupor. She deserved neither his love, or friendship. Yet he was still by her side. He had forgiven her, but she still had yet to forgive herself. Her self-reproach was so intense it made her physically ill. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. Whenever he was near her, would hold her, or kiss her she was afraid. Afraid she might break him like she had done countless others. Afraid of hurting him again. Afraid of herself. It was funny. The person she loved more then even herself was with her, yet the loneliness she felt all her life was still present inside her heart. A disease, she was beginning to believe, that had no cure.
"Lucy?" His gentle call brought her out of her thoughts. To Lucy there was no greater sound. Like church bells that promised salvation to most condemned soul. He came into view, framed by the doorway that lead into the dining room, his face equipped with his usual playful smile.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked as he stepped out into the garden.
"Just relaxing," she answered back, forcing a smile.
Kohta walked over beside her and sat down next to her, his shoulder brushing smoothly against hers. Lucy felt the heat rise quickly in her face and hoped he didn't notice. Just like during in the rain. Kohta took his hand and gave a loving brush of Lucy's silk like hair. She felt his fingers as the ran slowly along her cranium, and over two stumps where her horns once were. They still had yet to grow back. The two just sat in mute silence, simply enjoying the presence of the other. Satisfied to be near the one they loved. Despite her fears, Lucy treasured moments like these. Every kiss, every touch, every moment they shared. She held onto them tightly, afraid they might disappear into faded illusions. Just then, a familiar voice called out from inside the house.
"Kohta, Lucy. Lunch is ready," Yuka yelled out to them. Kohta got up first, bending over to offer his hand to assist Lucy up. Lucy grabbed hold and let him forcefully bring up onto her feet. Another playful smile, and Kohta walked back through the doors, into the house, and toward the prospect of food. Lucy stood there a moment longer, running her fingers over the stumps where Kohta's fingers had been moments ago. As she made her way inside, she quietly prayed that her horns would never grow back.
Kakuzawa stood gazing out of the window of his gargantuan sized, elegantly decorated office. He stood at the top of the facility, overlooking the precipice and limitless blue horizon. He found it rather symbolic. A king at the top of the mountain, surveying his future kingdom.
He heard the door on the far end behind him open as one of his faceless researchers walked in to stand just a few feet in front of his mahogany desk.
"Sir," the scientist said with a customary bow of respect, "Number 86 has just departed. He should be arriving in Kamakura sometime in the early morning." After 86 was released, he had been cleaned up, given clothes, briefed on his mission, and given a crash course about the outside world he had never seen. It had taken a little over a day to get him fully prepared.
Kakuzawa dismissed the man without every once turning to face him. He had to admit, things had not gone as he originally predicted. The past few months had been littered with one disappointment after the other. The escape of Lucy, the failure of the Special Assault Forces, the lose of Number 7 and 35, Kurama's betrayal. But he would remain adamant in his resolve. 86 would surely succeed where others had failed. 86 was a...unique case. He would be able to reason with her. Both he and Lucy would return, and obediently succumb to his will. Then, his dream would finally be reality. All his clever scheming and secrecy would finally produce results. Kakuzawa closed his eyes and began blissfully dreaming about the future he would forge with his own hand. But that would have to wait till Lucy and 86 returned. Until then, he would have to settle with longing day dreams.