The mirth that had once occupied her voice suddenly vanished. In its wake was left a hollow drone devoid of emotion, cruel and inert. Her eyes, her most disturbing feature, reflected an unseen light, further proof of the woman’s insanity.
“I won’t sit here and humor you, dear. Sarcasm only does so much for me, and while I care very little for your newfound calling I will soon have more important matters to see to. So let me be blunt.” The blue-haired mistress stopped, leaving room for dramatic pause while reveling in the youth’s heightened desire to spill her blood. “What I want from you is something you should never have taken to begin with. I want my flesh and blood back, and ‘no’ will not be taken for an answer!”
That was it! After six long years of waiting Keishen finally stated her demand, here face to face with the whore Eve del Fuoco. Damn anyone straight to the blistering pits of the afterlife if they tried to stop her. Something almost tangible coursed through her veins like wildfire. Perhaps it was simply the heat from the wine or the rush of adrenaline charging her lithe frame with strength and vigor. A blinding fury made the assassin feverish and it was with extreme effort that she managed to remain seated in Faust’s rickety chair. The wine glass previously sipped from exploded burying more than a few shards of razor sharp glass into her small hand. The shower of moonlight kissed fragments showered the bed of crimson sheets and dark rugged floor. The pain was minuscule; it was the unbridled fury she felt that drowned out all else.
These feelings were difficult to explain. The more time she spent pondering them the more aggravating it became to dwell on them. Keishen missed her daughter terribly but didn’t need to prove that to Eve.
Keishen saw, or rather felt the cogs turning like clockwork in Eve’s head and long before the answer graced her ears the inclination-maybe it was the desire-to rush the small porcelain figure played out like a ghastly horror scene in her head. Eve lay struggling beneath her, helpless to defend herself as Keishen clasped her thin throat, denying the Deathseeker the oxygen she needed. Watching the lonesome tear fall from those dark-rimmed pools of blue and crest her cheek just before all went dark and her heart stopped beating. This vision returned yet was presented differently, and then again returned with Keishen’s victory. Each variation was different and as always she came out the victor. These lies would sprout and manifest into the truth so one day not even she would be able to discern the truth from the lies.
“You trespassed on privately owned property, beat down my son, and stole my Keiko from me. I think my statement is pretty clear. I want her back, Eve.” Keishen feigned smugness with her ever-present grin and chuckled. “As he mother that is my right.”