Keys Of Insanity
Lowly lights dimmed down over the crowd in the small pub to help in creating the perfect atmosphere for what was coming next. The previous entertainer on stage was a regular in the shady shop for preaching his soul in the form of dark poetry. And his last was no exception. Jeremy lived a very depressing life. Jeremy never had any parents to call his own. Left at the door step of an orphanage in nothing more than a baby carriage and a short note explaining his parent's situation.
Jeremy's physique was anything but athletic. That being said, he was never able to properly defend himself against bullies who felt the need to pick on poor orphan. Black and blue were scattered about his frail body which he often covered up with long sleeves and jeans. His pale face was the only part of his body that was clean of scars.
As Jeremy made his way from the small stage back to his seat in the back, A kind waitress made it her responsibility to praise him on his bravery and tell him that everything would eventually get better with time. That was enough for him even through the silence that was his audience. Not even a single clap, snap or even a whistle. Jeremy always was a loner.
When said waitress laid her hand upon the sad boy's shoulder she felt his misery. The life of torment that he was leading. All the pain and loneliness he's had to deal with. She could see and feel it all. Shivers ran from her neck down her spine as the images flooded in.
That night when baby Jeremy was left at the doorstep of a broken down building. She could hear the cries and whimpering of the single mother that just couldn't do it on her own. The feelings of regret and despair invaded her body and mind and mixed with her own memories of regret.
The man with the enlarged canines and crimson pupils, the features of his strangely crooked yet amazingly cool grin. A face she wouldn't ever let herself forget. The only one she ever trusted. Just the thought of him was enough to break her from the sad boy's subconscious.
Shaking her head, she placed the cup of joe down on the table in front of Jeremy and started a slow march to the stage. With the lights as dark as they were no one was able to see the soulless eyes behind her strong frame. And thanks to the manager using the loud speaker to call her up, no one could hear the sniffling that escaped her.
What was about to go on was nothing short of what she would describe as horrific or nostalgic. It was always hard for her to decide which. The two feelings lingered on a small string in her heart as they sometimes crossed each others borders. There were always two sides to a story, nothing was ever as it was perceived by the naked eye.
Until a third feeling showed up. Admiration? Maybe. She could look in the mirror every day for the rest of her life and tell herself that. But a single glimpse into a still pool of water could tell her that it was much more than that. But she wasn't just lying to herself.
No, she was beyond the sins of a liar. She lived an honest life. Always putting out one hundred and ten percent into everything that stood in her way. From school work to growing up and maturing as a women. She never tried to be someone she knew she wasn't. Not once did she get into a certain genre of music because her peers around her did. She never ate food someone asked her to try even though she didn't like it.
That was the exact kind of life she wanted to live. She knew who she was what she was supposed to do. By age 16 the amount of kids and their names were already written down in a book. She knew what she wanted them to look like as well as how tall they would end up.
She wanted one boy and one girl. The boy being the older and protective one. And even though he would always be her innocent baby boy, she knew that he would play. He would lie but never cheat. As little as he may speak, when he did, everyone would listen.
The girl on the other hand. She couldn't wait for her to grow up and be just like her. Independent and strong. Smart but not naive. Hopefully she wouldn't end up having such a wacky group of friends like her mother, but that couldn't be helped. It would be in her nature to do so. Her glossy white hair would be something all her friends would swoon over and be jealous. But she would always be modest about it and preach about how it was in her genes.
But these children, these hopes and dreams, they were nothing more than that. Unreachable moments lost to the hands of fate. Those two children won't ever meet their parents. They won't make those weird friends or the deep lava gems inherited from their father's side of the family.
They'll be nothing more than a wish never granted. And it was All. Her. Fault.
Friday had come and the weekend was theirs for fun and games. Soul was free of clubs on Friday's and Maka always took that opportunity to make sure they spent quality time with each other. Once the Kishin was rid from existence Meisters and Weapons alike all took a step back to look at their lives and find what they thought was important.
Red eyes and snow white hair were all that mattered to her. As long as they were always staring at her and only her then she didn't care what else was going on in the world. Her conscious was clean and calm knowing she was able to salvage Crona's soul from the madness. He was given a fair trial in front of Death The Kidd accompanied by the current Death Scythes. And in the end, the Demon Swordsman Crona Gorgon was rightfully so deemed innocent. It never was his fault he was the son of a witch.
Maka was glad that she had such close friends in the higher ups. But some of them she had to admit might have gotten themselves into a little more than they could handle over the last couple of years. What with Tsubaki currently baring the child of the strongest Meister at Shibusen. Maka would never question Black*Star's loyalty, he was always very protective of his friends and would never stray from the path his own. But not even he knew what he was getting himself into with having a kid of his own.
Thankfully Tsubaki took it upon herself to live in Japan for the coming months for when the baby would be born. She didn't want her friends to see her at her worst. Kidd understood and gave her and Black*Star paid vacation time off. Her family also wanted to be present for the birth of their first grandchild, so it was better for everyone they were in Japan for the next few months to prepare for their miracle.
That being the case, Maka was prepared for just about anything that included just her and Soul on this night. Be it having dinner and catching a movie or just walking around the city. The riches around Death City had grown immeasurably since the spread of madness was stopped. Soon enough it became enough of a popular area as to where tourists actually started coming by just to come and see the academy.
But they never took the proper time to just stop and look up at the beautiful night sky in the middle of the desert. And on this perfect winter night, that's all Maka really wanted to do. Dinner was quick and the movie passed by quicker than it should have. She attributed that to the fact that she didn't care about either or. Soul and her were an official couple by their standards and that's all she needed to know. It was a healthy relationship built on years of trust, and that's what she was most proud of.
She wanted to treasure every second of these moments. Because in a life like theirs there was no telling when it would all end. And while they walked along the streets the Witch Hunter couldn't help but notice a set of swings covered in snow. There wasn't anything particularly special about these set of swings, but to Maka and Soul it held significance.
"Hey Soul, look over there."
He yawned before turning his head. From what his cell phone was telling him, it was already tomorrow. They'd been walking around the city for two and half hours already.
"Hn? Oh, those old things?"
"Yeah. You remember, don't you?" She leaned her head onto his shoulder and gently closed her eyes, feeling his warmth come over her body.
"Cheh. Remember what? They're just a set of swings." Maka pursed her lips and turned her emerald gems on him.
"Idiot! You know what I mean. Jerk!"
"Ah! Calm down Maka. No need to hit me. It was a joke, alright? A cool guy like me couldn't forget about something like this. Could he?"
She didn't know how he did it, but even when he was being sarcastic he was still the coolest guy in town. Before she knew it, her cheeks were red like a cherry.
While they went back and forth insulting one another, they made their ways towards the swings on which they once sat.
"They're pretty, aren't they?"
"Hn?" Soul blinked twice in trance.
"The stars I mean. I never really took the time to just stare at them, but they're actually really pretty." Soul looked up at the sky, but it didn't interest him as much as it did his Meister.
"Hn. Didn't notice. Was lost somewhere else." Her cheeks burned beneath her cold skin. She turned her head, embarrassed of the her reaction.
The distance between them physically became no different but their minds were miles apart from each other now. Silence fell upon the kishin hunting duo under the starry night. Ignoring each other at this point they idly swung back and forth with just enough kinetic energy to stay moving in the air.
What was I thinking saying that? The stars are pretty? Dammit Maka Albarn you can think of better things to say than that. Come on, I'm smart, I can do better than that. Can't I? For just a second, if that, the silver haired wonder finally caught the culprit red eyed, staring right back at her.
She opened her mouth to say something.
"Maka." But was just a bit late. Soul was ahead of the game.
"You know you saved me right, Maka?"
What? Where the hell is this coming from? Saved him? What the hell is he talking about?
"Saved you? When did I do that, Soul? You're the weapon in this relationship. You know that." The Grigori stated proudly with a huff to boot.
"That's right, I'm the Demon Death Scythe. I've eaten over 200 kishin souls and one witch soul." The memories of every soul he'd ever absorbed came rushing back. From the very first to the latest soul 3 days previous. Each one just adding to his cool level and amount of strength he possessed.
"But every Demon needs an Angel, doesn't he?"
And for the first time in her life, Maka Albarn, daughter of Kami and Spirit, felt her heart skip a beat. And for whatever reason, she decided it was a good thing.
Her body shook, she wanted to blame it on the winter breeze blowing up on her skirt beneath her pantyhose, but she'd be only be lying to herself.
Where was Black*Star when you needed him to ruin a moment and completely change the mood. She desperately wanted a distraction. Anything would work.
A fire, a car crash, anything. Maybe her hopeful wishing was just that. Or she was simply not mentally prepared for the inevitable.
She always knew she felt like her and Soul were more than just partners, than friends. They always just clicked that way. Even though they may be polar opposites, like a magnet, they attract.
He always had his ways to make her smile that no other person alive could pull off. Maybe it was that cool aura he continuously let off? Or or, or maybe it was the fact that he was always there for her, highs and lows. He had the chance to be there for her no matter the situation.
Whether it was after a fight with her dad or after an A ranked mission that would take days to accomplish. Soul was always there running the bath after a run through the rain. Those crimson eyes were always there reassuring her and helping her over come her worst fears.
Those fearsome canines always told her what she wanted to hear.
Maybe she shouldn't have wished for something to interrupt this special moment.
"Kukuku. Gri...gori. De...li...cious. POWER!"
Maybe she should have just let the universe unfold it's plan like it originally intended.
Sometimes she should have just kept her mouth shut. Because you never know what might happen when someone you don't know hears you.
You might just get what you wish for.
Lord Death forsake her soul for the sin she was about to commit.
The show was over. The lights though already dim, lifted and shone brightly upon the dusted floors. The crowd, silent as night, could be described best with the words scared, or frightened, or better yet, terrified. Terrified of the young maiden who laid her gloved hands upon the keys.
Everyone left in attendance was either too close to the stage or too terrified of what would happen if they had left the small pub. Those red sparks floating in the air put to rest any rumors about the waitress they might have heard.
She was psychotic and down right intimidating. The way she became entranced with her own music was one thing, but that insane laughter that would make even the scariest of foes sound like children was the worst.
What was once heard could not be unheard. Unfortunate but true for the scared few that were left shaking in their seats, attempting to keep their drinks from dripping from their glasses.
Jeremy, who was farthest from the insanity was still able to feel the madness on full blast. His body shook uncontrollably as the sound of indiscriminate note, one after another pounded his ear drums, begging for entrance into his once sane conscious.
His body screamed for denial, but his fragile mind was the doorman that so easily let each deep tone screech through his existence.
His breathing both deep and loud would not go unnoticed, for each unfortunate soul in the room was in the same predicament. Each one barely keeping hold of their sanity with each strand of hair ripped from their scalps.
Footsteps echoed around the silent room. It only became apparent that the song was finished when the head of piano was shut against it's base and closed off for the night.
Everyone suddenly woke up and looked around. The room was a mess. Drinks were spilled all over the floors, pictures were knocked off their nails in the wall, a trail of blood followed the mysterious waitress around the room.
The light show was gone but the faint signs of madness still beckoned to knock at the doors of the weak.
While some were still losing their minds, there were the reasonably strong willed few that had come to their senses. And when they were finally able to form proper words in they found it impossible to properly describe the rollercoaster they were forced to ride.
It was, inspiring. Every note, every sound, powerful on it's own. But as a team, invincible, unbeatable. The way the low and powerful notes meshed so well with the quick and straightforward brass of the body was incredibly eary.
But the way it spiraled out of control towards the middle was sound proof that the story told didn't have a very happy ending. It's slow departure into the depths of madness was evident the moment said pianist kept continuously stopping and starting.
Her technique was just all over the place. It would have made any professional cringe right off the bat. The way she positioned herself at the edge of the bench could only be a testament to how much of a miracle it was that she landed a job in the first place. Everything she did was just awkward. Her ensemble didn't go very well with the disgusting surprisingly bright aura that shone through her slips of insanity. It was like she was masking her own purity for the sake of purposely feeling sad.
To add to the young waitress's tab, the once red blood trailing her had quickly dried up and turned into a horrifying black that sounded like it was still boiling.
A single stray pool of goop jumped up on it's scared the day lights out of one of the regulars, which became the last reason for whomever was left in the crowd to promptly escort themselves from the building. All but one had the strength to leave their seats and run to the hills.
Minutes passed like days while the manager took a look at the damage this time around. These strange occurrences were no longer foreign to his small shop, but he didn't look at it as a negative aspect. In fact he credited his businesses recent growth to it. When rumors spread, curiosity grew.
And talk of the Black Blood pianist could only grow from this point.
"Oi! We picked up a large crowd this time around, didn't we? I think I'm beginning to like this whole scare and intrigue tactic you got going for ya little lady. I think we'll be doing just fine as long as this keeps up."
"Hn." She muffled whilst still cleaning up her mess. It may have been a dirty, but it was in her job description.
From the time her shifts began her responsibilities suddenly grew immensely. Her simple lifestyle of just going through the motions would be thrown into a pot and mixed with ingredients to form an inelegant masterpiece that would have them coming back for more.
"You know you've been awfully quiet these past few days. Wanna talk about it?" She nodded her head. She'd rather talk with her hands than to those unworthy of gaining her full trust, he knew that. But it was worth a try. She's been a quiet one since the first day she walked with blood on her dress looking for a job.
Making her way out of reach of the manager, the silver haired waitress begun to clean the last table left that needed it. Surprisingly though, the person who at one point occupied the table was still sitting in his seat, albeit a couple feet away from his cup of joe.
His body was still in shock from the pounding it took. His defenses were so easily invaded and destroyed to the point where movement was possibly with an aide of a sort.
"Y-y-you. You. You're..you're a...a..."
"Demon? I know." She replied in an annoyed tone. She felt she knew what was coming next. The customer would flee just like the rest of them, screaming for help, but crying for more.
"Wh-what? A demon? No! You-you're an angel."
It was the first time they had spoken directly to each other. They knew each other for a couple of months as customer and employee, but nothing more than a conversation about what to order had ever come up. This was a landmark achievement for both parties involved.
On Jeremy's side, she was the first female he had ever spoken to who didn't run away or laugh at him for being too weird.
For her, the compliment did more than just bring a crooked smirk upon her features.
As a person who lived by the common saying that respect is earned, She was over come with the urge to repay the young dutch-man for his kindness.
Like so many times before she placed her hand on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Her phone inside her pocket started ringing just as she was getting started, but the previous encounter already gave her enough info.
She began a stride towards the exit with her phone by her ear when she came to a sudden stop just short of the door. She turned her head around and stared at Jeremy with soulless eyes.
"She loved you ya know."
While he was sure he heard correctly, he still couldn't help but ask.
"Wh-what? What do you mean! What does that mean!" He screamed out. She turned her head back around and opened the door to leave.
"Your mother loved you. She wouldn't be happy seeing you like this. Be happy." With those parting words the young man with the fragile body was left with his head spinning about who this waitress really was. And what connections did she have with his mother? Who was she? How did she know anything about him?
He would have to ask her next time. From the other side of the door it sounded a lot like she was arguing with someone over that phone of hers. He over heard something about a tour, and the states or something like that. Whatever that meant.