Who will buy me an orange to console me now? A ripe perfect orange shaped like a heart . . . No one will offer her lips to me. I cannot harvest the tender wheat ear of a kiss. No one will ask to drink my blood. I myself cannot tell whether or not it still flows . . . And since no one asks me for it, I no longer have a heart. Who will buy me an orange to console me now? Jose Gorostiza, "Who Will Buy Me an Orange?" _______________________________________________________________________ Kinmokusei Story Chapter Twenty: Frozen by Kotetsu _______________________________________________________________________ There was a voice, droning in and out of her ears, monotonously, annoyingly . . . Seiya ignored it. It was just Malathos, after all, revealing this dark secret and that dark secret probably telling her something terribly important about the fate of the planet that she was supposed to be protecting. But Seiya, at the moment, was only pretending to care. Her mind easily detached from her present circumstance - embraced by the arms of her greatest enemy - and entered an imaginary world all of its own. A series of sensory, tactile memories were playing out in the movie theater of Seiya's mind; she watched the film reel of memories, fascinated, not knowing or caring about anything else going on in the world around her. "We'll be friends forever!" Tsukino Usagi chirped cheerfully. The setting sun set her golden hair ablaze with licks of crimson fire; beneath her burning, shimmering bangs, her round and innocent face was lit with a loving glow and an innocent smile. Chiba Mamoru's hand, strikingly outlined in dark shadow, rested on Usagi's slight shoulder. Seiya relived the memory. Her heart felt cold and numb. Not even this realization held any emotional impact. There was nothing for her to feel, Seiya suddenly understood, because she might not have any heart left to feel with. Again, another startling realization that triggered no emotions, no mental or physical sensations of any sort. It was simply conjecture, that was all. It might be true, it might not be true. What difference did it make? Another memory danced across the mental screen of Seiya's mind. "I'm so sorry, Seiya, I never meant to . . . " Belinda, sniffling back her tears and furiously scrubbing at her own eyes, embarrassed and heartbroken and miserable all at the same time, clumsily trying to take back the words that it had taken her so long to build up the courage to say-- Seiya wondered, idly. She remembered that she had felt very badly about the whole scene . . . When? Ten minutes ago? A hundred years ago? A thousand years ago? It all felt so very distant. Emotion was nothing to her now, nothing but an echo of an echo of an echo of a distant memory. A new vision began to overwhelm her mind's eye. A sigh from scarlet lips, a whisper of a falling lock of crimson hair-- The memory flickered and died before it could fully form. Seiya didn't bother to wonder for more than a brief moment; she simply didn't care anymore. Now, a new memory. This one was very vivid, very powerful. Despite herself, Seiya was caught up fully in its grasp, reliving the moment with its taste, its touch, its sights and its sounds. She watched as another self - her old self? - stood in a small, cramped kitchen unit that, which, judging from its sterile, efficient look, was no doubt aboard a small spaceship of sorts. Taiki and Yaten were with her. Yaten was wearing her witches' earrings, the mirrored earrings that Malathos had destroyed. They were yelling at each other. They were arguing. Taiki suddenly violently lunged forward, grabbed Yaten's small bony shoulders in her hands, and thrust the other girl backward, slamming her against the nearby wall. "IS IT SO HARD FOR YOU TO BELIEVE THAT A MAN ACTUALLY LOVES ME?!" she roared. "No, I--" "Well, TOUGH!" Taiki pulled Yaten forward and then slammed her back into the wall again. Yaten made no sound, no gasp, and gave no sign of pain, no cry of protest. Taiki screamed at Yaten's face. "I love Hideaki and he loves me!!" Forward and back again; another slam into the wall. "When this is all over, we're to live HAPPILY EVER AFTER!!!!" Another slam. "And EVERYTHING--" slam! "--is GOING--" slam! "--to BE--" slam! "--JUST--" SLAM! "--FINE!!!!!" "STOP IT!!!" Other-Seiya was pounding against Taiki's back with her powerful fists, so angry, so desperate, but at the same time, secretly choking back tears, so terrified, so horrified, so disgusted at her own weakness, inwardly screaming at herself, screaming not to start crying. "TAIKI, YOU HAVE TO STOP THIS!!!" The memory faded away, dulling and bleeding into black nothingness. Seiya wondered curiously why her other self had been so close to crying. Why had she seemed so upset? What was there to be upset about? If Taiki and Yaten wanted to scream at each other and hit each other, then why should Seiya care? Why had she ever cared about what happened to either of them in the first place? Now what an odd thought to suddenly occur to her! "Because." Because what? There was no because. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Her heart was too cold and too numb to care. For all she new, her heart might not even exist at all anymore. Well, it was for the better, then. If her old self had always been sad, always been crying, always felt nothing but pain and sorrow, then it was most definitely better not to have a heart at all, to not ever have to feel or experience any pain like that ever again. And with that, the movie theater within her mind vanished. Slowly, Seiya sensed herself coming back to reality. That is, she was coming back to her physical senses. Reality had ceased to exist the moment that she had embraced her enemy. " . . . and to the Andromeda galaxy," Malathos finished, gloating triumphantly. Seiya blinked at him, slowly, lethargically. "What . . .?" "I said, to the Andromeda galaxy." "I'm sorry . . . " Seiya shook her head, slowly. "Could you repeat the plan, please? I wasn't paying attention." If the youma was going to *do* something, Healer realized, it would probably be a good idea for her to pre-empt it. She whipped out her Star Yell. "Star Sensitive INFER--" But the youma, being very rude and ill-mannered, did not merely stand by idly and wait for her to summon her attack. Instead, it decided to strike back. It opened its mouth - wide, wider, wider still, showing its full set of jagged teeth and even a pair of dangling little tonsils hanging in the back of its throat. And then, of all things, it breathed fire. Well, not exactly fire. It was something magical, something powerful, something bright red and searingly hot. It spewed forth from the youma's gaping maw, and engulfed Healer. She screamed, consumed by burning red light, stumbling backward, feeling the attack scalding her skin and draining her energy-- The glowing fire around her dissipated. She wobbled on her feet, struggling to get her bearings. Behind her, Belinda was screaming at her. "What are you DOING?! You have to get out of here and teleport after the QUEEN!" Healer's head snapped around. "I'm a Sailor Senshi! It's my job to defend you!" It was a moment of distraction that she could not afford. Hideaki stared over her shoulder, eyes widening with horror. "Look out--!" Too late. The monster opened its jaws and attacked again, sending a stream of shooting flame toward them-- Healer braced her feet and threw out her arms. Block, shield. It was all she could think of to do. Absorb the brunt of the attack, keep Hideaki and Belinda safe. The impossible flame slammed into her again. She couldn't stifle her screams, it hurt so much, it burned, it burned, it felt as if her skin were blistering all over, it was getting into her mouth and down her throat and up her nose and in her ears and in her eyes, scalding, burning, draining-- The fire dissolved around her, and Healer sank to her knees. That was it, then. The youma's attack had drained too much of her energy. She no longer had the strength to stand upright. She could hear Belinda, still protesting stupidly, behind her. "You have to get out of here, now! You can't die like this! THE QUEEN NEEDS YOU TO SAVE SEIYA AND DEFEAT MALATHOS!" Healer did not have the strength to turn around again and address Belinda directly, but she still managed to underscore her words with fierceness and determination as she spoke. "You're important to people that I care very deeply about, understand?! I won't leave you!" The creature opened its mouth even wider. Healer, now kneeling on the ground, could only squeeze her eyes shut and flinch. The fire engulfed her again. Burning, blistering, scalding, draining. She was too weak to scream, now. But it still hurt, worse than anything had ever hurt her before-- And then, something horrible happened. The fire disappeared around her again, but something flashed between her breasts, and all of a sudden, her sailor fuku dissolved into ribbons around her-- "No!" she gasped weakly, watching the pale green ribbons twist and writhe around her body. "No, please! Not now--!" And then, the fuku was gone. Faded away into oblivion, just like that. She was nothing more than Kou Yaten then, drained and weak and kneeling helplessly on the ground in front of the monstrous youma, gasping for breath, fighting back her tears, praying, fervently, that Hideaki and Belinda would take the opportunity to escape. Of course, they didn't. "HEALER!" Belinda shrieked. Yaten simply could not find the strength to turn around and look at her. "Get out of here," she croaked, "both of you. I can't hold this thing off much longer." The youma finally closed its mouth, but began to wag its tail again. It tapped its claws eagerly against the ground, as it crouched, preparing to spring forward. "Shimatta!" Maker rolled away from the nicely burnt and blackened hole in the ground where she had been standing just a moment before. Reynard stood watching her casually as another lick of flame danced between his fingertips. "Contrary to popular belief, most of us vampyre are actually quite fond of using fire in combat," he explained calmly. Maker noted mentally as she gracefully dodged another burst of flame from his fingertips. Well, that was all fine and dandy, but really, she had done just about enough dodging and running for the evening. It was time to strike back. She raised her Star Yell above her head. "Star Gentle--" But Reynard was too fast. He darted forward, almost throwing himself at her. He swung upward with his fist, and she, arms above her head, was left completely open and vulnerable. His fist connected squarely with the bottom of her jaw. The world exploded into bursts of white and red pain. Maker stumbled backward, momentarily stunned, the Star Yell dropping from her startled hands. But Reynard wasn't finished yet. As adept as he was at sorcery, he was also a skilled and quick fighter, and his combat skills had more than anything kept him alive for the past several thousand years. Besides, he did so enjoy inflicting pain upon others. So he cut loose with his fists - one in her stomach, one between her breasts, switching now, another across her face, and then kicking upward, planting his foot squarely in the middle of her stomach again. He watched her falling backward, doubling over in pain and wincing silently. She never even had the chance to fight back. He was a vampyre, and blessed with speed and strength that far surpassed that of a normal human, even a Sailor Senshi. As Maker felt his iron fists slam into her, she recalled, dimly, through a haze of excruciating pain, how he had effortlessly gripped her wrists and held her down to the bed as he had done that terrible thing to her . . . Too strong. He was supernaturally strong, and so was she, but he was even more so. And it was her own damn fault that she had been defeated in the first place - leaving herself wide open like that, arms holding the Star Yell above her head, yelling out the attack, opening herself up in a such a silly, defenseless position-- Maker fell to the ground with a cry of pain. Reynard clenched his fist, and uttered archaic verses underneath his breath. And Maker sat before him, trembling, suddenly unable to move, the magically thickened air around her pressing against her on all sides, holding her in place, gluing her to the ground, freezing her in her helpless position. She snarled at him. "That was a dirty trick!" She writhed and struggled against her invisible bonds even as she spoke. "You, too, played a particularly dirty trick on me. Remember?" Reynard grinned at her, lecherously. "But still, it warms my heart to see you coming back to me, even after the little, ah, falling out that we had after our last date." His greedy eyes swept over her body. "On Turan, I never had the chance to finish complimenting you on your lovely sailor fuku. It looks fabulous on you, it really does. I love the way that it exposes the tops of your breasts, and your cute little belly. I remember biting those pretty breasts and cute little belly." "I'm warning you," Maker growled, low and dangerous, her eyes narrowing to hate-filled slits, "if you take this speech of yours any farther, I am going to make you regret it." "You're not really in a position to be threatening me at the moment, are you?" He knelt down until he was at her eye level. "You know, Maker, my heart does work in mysterious ways. A moment ago I wanted nothing more than to kill you, but now, I'm not so sure. Perhaps I shall kill the other two, but keep you as my personal pet. I mean, I know how much you and I both enjoyed our first night together. Wouldn't it be just like *paradise* if we could stay together forever?!" "No!" Maker spat at him, with a sneer of disgust. "You're a MONSTER!" "Suit yourself, then." He stood up, slowly, gracefully. "I gave you a choice, but you chose your destiny already. Oh, well. A tragic loss, but," he shrugged, "what more can I do? You're simply too stubborn for your own good." He snapped his fingers. Maker felt a stir of air, a flicker of movement, above her. She snapped her head upward, staring at the dark nothingness above, her eyes widening with horror. There was something *growing* up there. No, growing DOWNWARD. Toward her. Green, leafy, ropy, thick - vines? roots? No, roots didn't have leaves. It was a vine, of some sort. Its branches snaked and writhed toward her. Reynard sensed her confusion, and her fear. He relished it. "I know what you're wondering. Where did that plant come from, hmm? Are we underground, or are we in the sky?" Maker thought wildly. "It's just another one of my little pets," Reynard explained idly. "A clipping of a genetically engineered vine from the Tau system. The daimon scientists in that system are quite brilliant, really. The Witches' sects have compiled such a fascinating body of research concerning the splicing and mixing of normal plant, animal, and human DNA with that of daimon DNA . . . " The vines grew, spiraling downward. The leafy tip of one brushed against the crown of Maker's head. She bit back a scream. "But I digress. Anyway, darling, you have no need to worry. This particular breed won't do anything, ah, naughty to you. So you can take your thoughts right out of the gutter right now, thank you very much. However, this plant is awfully useful as a security device - specifically, to incapacitate enemies of mine." The vines began to wrap around her shoulders, across her stomach, around her hips, around her wrists, around her legs. They pulled tight, constricting. Trapping her in that absurd fallen, sitting position, squeezing her painfully-- "Let me go!" she snarled at him. Reynard shook his head. "Must you insist on being troublesome? Well, no matter." Maker felt herself beginning, strangely, to swoon. Her vision blurred, and her ears began ringing. "What . . . What's happening?!" "Security precautions. The vines are feeding off your energy. They will drain you until you no longer pose a threat to me." He waved his hand nonchalantly. "Once you are sufficiently drained, I can leave you here for my youma, and watch them rip you apart and eat you at their leisure." "You bastard!" she gasped, weakly. "You can't even defeat me fairly on your own home turf, can you? You still need to rely on plant-creatures and youma to do it for you! You're still . . . too weak . . . to finish me off yourself . . . " Reynard's face darkened. "As much as I would enjoy watching my pets eat you alive," he snarled, slowly, menacingly, "perhaps it would be a better idea to shut you up now, once and for all." And then, one of the vines began to slowly wrap itself around her neck. But now she was too weak to struggle anymore. She could feel her energy draining, quickly, painfully, into the pulsing vines that wrapped around her . . . Something flashed, briefly, between her breasts. And then, before she could even realize what had happened, her sailor fuku was gone. She was back in her normal skirts and blouse, and now she couldn't even gasp or cry out, because the final vine was beginning to tighten around her throat-- Reynard threw back his head and laughed. Sailor Kinmoku only had a brief moment to recognize the woman from the video tapes of the Turan incident, to attach a name to her face - Delilah, Taiki had said that Malathos had a servant named Delilah - and to think of a desperate way to save herself as the other woman leapt toward her. So she struck out with her wand, wildly, blindly. Miraculously, the jeweled tip somehow smashed into the side of Delilah's head. The madwoman stumbled to the side, momentarily stunned. Sailor Kinmoku took the opportunity to dodge to the side, around and behind Delilah-- Sailor Kinmoku wound back her arm, still clutching her wand, and prepared to thrust it directly between Delilah's shoulder blades. Delilah caught her balance, and planted her feet firmly into the ground. But she still did not have enough time to turn around and face her adversary again. So, Sailor Kinmoku struck, throwing her arm forward, aiming with the wand-- And froze, her arm suddenly caught in a steely grip. It was Delilah, reaching behind her, twisting her arm at an impossible angle, catching Sailor Kinmoku's wrist in a grip like iron. Without even bothering to turn her head, Delilah wrenched her arm forward, throwing Sailor Kinmoku in a curve around her side and flinging her outward, letting go of her wrist at just the right moment, grinning as the Senshi cried out with alarm, grinning even more as she watched the stupid girl crash painfully into the rocky ground. The jarring force of the impact caused Sailor Kinmoku's fingers to fly off the handle of her wand, and the wand flew across the cavern, landing with a clatter several yards away from her, close to the still lip of the body of water-- "You evil witch!" Delilah sneered, watching as Sailor Kinmoku slowly, shakily stood up, wobbling on her feet. "You stole my throne, you stole my crown, you stole my kingdom, and you even stole my Sailor Senshi!" Sailor Kinmoku blinked at her, almost stupidly. "I never stole--" "YES, YOU DID! You're the false Queen, and I'm the REAL Queen of this planet!!" Sailor Kinmoku paused, stretching out her senses. Something felt *very* wrong about the still, dark body of water now directly behind her. It almost felt . . . the same way that Seiya felt . . . cold, empty, hollow, not-there. Soul in absentia? But that was absurd, it wasn't *alive* or anything . . . was it? Sailor Kinmoku ached to reach out to Seiya, still lying helplessly on the far shore of the lake. But now she had a madwoman to deal with, and staring deep into Delilah's crazed, desperate eyes, she was beginning to doubt that she would have the strength to-- "I HATE YOUUUU!" Delilah screamed as she launched herself forward again. "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! YOU TURNED MY SENSHI AGAINST ME! YOU TURNED REYNARD AGAINST ME! YOU HURT MY MASTER! YOU DESERVE TO DIE!!" Sailor Kinmoku, surprised by the sudden attack, could do nothing but dodge. Unfortunately, she didn't dodge quickly enough. Delilah threw herself to the side, too, and thrust her arms forward, wrapping her hands around Sailor Kinmoku's neck before the startled Senshi could even realize what was happening. Spinning sideways from their momentum, the two women whirled, twirled like dancers, until their positions had been reversed - Delilah with her back to the lake, Sailor Kinmoku facing both the lake and Delilah, and Delilah's hands beginning to tighten around Sailor Kinmoku's neck. Delilah's face twisted into a snarl of pure hatred. "I'll drain your energy back into me, and then I'll crush your stupid little windpipe!" Sailor Kinmoku choked and gasped. She tried to raise her hands to defend herself, but all of a sudden her arms flopped uselessly at her sides and hung there, weak, immobile. Her knees wobbled underneath her. Her vision blurred. She could feel her life energy draining away into Delilah's hands-- "And then I'll rip out your Sailor Crystal and smash it into thousands of pieces!" Delilah shrieked, now spitting and snarling, clenching her hands even tighter. "I'll break the evil spell that you used to bind my Senshi to you! I'll break your control over them! I'LL FREE THEM FROM YOU, JUST SEE IF I DON'T!! THEY WON'T BE YOUR SLAVES ANY LONGER!!!!" Sailor Kinmoku's mind whirled with confusion and fear. Evil spell? Control? Slaves?! What . . . ?! "They . . . chose . . . me . . . " she managed to gasp, fighting for air. "NO! YOU STOLE THEM FROM ME!" In a moment, their argument was about to become a mute point. Sailor Kinmoku could feel Delilah's hands tightening even further around her neck . . . At first, Malathos honestly thought that his ears had deceived him. But then, looking into the girl's wide open, shining blue eyes, he knew that she was telling the truth. Her eyes were the gateway to her soul, after all. And her mind, her soul, her Sailor Crystal, were *almost* his. He had been able to reach inside of her soul and establish a fragile, tenuous grip on her heart. His icy hand wrapping around her heart had frozen it and voided it of all emotion or feeling. It had been easy, really; in a moment of vulnerability, a small part of her had whispered to him, had actually *invited* him into her. But now, despite the earlier invitation, Malathos sensed that some part of her mind still resisted him; he had erased most of her old loyalties, but he had not yet secured a place for himself in her heart. Well, no matter. If he could just maintain his patience for a few moments longer, if he could just cater to her childishly short attention span for a few more minutes, then she would be his, utterly and completely. "Please, could you say it again?" Seiya asked him, calmly, politely. She snuggled into his warm embrace, shifting her body so that it pressed even closer still to his. "Very well, my dear," he murmured soothingly, his right hand reaching up to caress her cheeks with his long, cold fingers. "Do you like what I've done to your heart, Fighter?" "I don't know," she answered slowly. Of course, Malathos had expected that; she was beyond the stage where she was capable of liking or disliking anything anymore. "I don't care," she added, as a clumsy means of explanation. "But it's nice, isn't it? You don't feel any pain. Pain is bad." "Pain is bad," she repeated softly, closing her eyes and letting his fingers dance across her face, tracing the outlines of her lips, running up and down the curve of her jawbone, teasing her curled bangs and brushing across her forehead and down her nose. "If pain is bad, then the absence of pain must be good," Malathos coached her gently. "So it is good, to not feel any pain. I am good, because I've rid you of all your pain and suffering, right?" " . . . Right," Seiya sighed, letting the word fall from her lips. Had Seiya still had a mind to think about such matters, she would have been startled to realize that although she was sinking deeper and deeper in Malathos's dark shadow, her eyesight remained . . . well, normal. Her vision was not yet warped or twisted by Malathos's touch. But then again, Seiya no longer understood, nor cared about, such a trivial curiosity. And Malathos, for his part, was so absorbed in the laborious task of absorbing *her*, that he simply did not have the mind to notice the lack of change in Seiya's eyesight. "I will spread my touch throughout this planet," Malathos explained, "and I will rid your people of all pain, all suffering, all sorrow, all grief." "Oh." Seiya shifted in his arms, her eyes opening slowly, lethargically; she blinked at him lazily. Her irises were starting to glaze over. "Is that all?" "No, my darling." Malathos grinned. He couldn't help himself; he always felt like grinning when he got to the best part. "It's just not fair, for only your planet to become the utopia, is it?" "No . . . " "I would love, just love, to spread my touch throughout the entire galaxy, bringing peace and oblivion to all who fall beneath my hands." "Nice . . . " "Oh, but my darling Fighter," Malathos mourned sorrowfully, "this galaxy is already a lost cause! I have wandered it for eons, offering my sweet numb nothingness to all of its inhabitants; and they have always rejected me, content to live their miserable lives full of pain and sorrow." "How sad," Seiya said. But she didn't sound very sad. That was good, Malathos noted with a touch of pride; her emotional detachment was almost complete, but she already learning to parrot and mimic whatever emotions she thought his words *ought* to invoke in her heart. "This is why I have decided that it is time to journey to a new world, a new frontier." "Journey . . . where?" Seiya struggled with the thought; the corners of her mouth turned downward. "Outside this . . . galaxy?" "Yes, Fighter." Malathos paused for dramatic effect. "I am preparing to undertake the most outrageous cross-space teleport ever conceived in galactic history. I am going to teleport myself to the Andromeda galaxy." "No . . . " Seiya suddenly trembled in his arms. Malathos felt a brief flare of alarm - what was this, an emotional reaction?! Was it surprise, or fear? She should not have been able to experience either emotion anymore. Then Seiya shook her head, slowly, like one held deep within a dreaming sleep. "It's impossible," she protested flatly. "Oh, but it is possible. My noncorporeal body will supply most of the energy needed for the teleport. But the rest of the energy must be summoned from . . . outside sources. This planet, at the closest point to the Andromeda galaxy, will provide the rest of the energy for the jump. The star seeds of its people, and the life energy of its plants and animal inhabitants, will all be drained dry in order to supply me with the necessary energy. And, of course, the three guardian Sailor Crystals of this system are the only tools truly capable of summoning and channeling that planetary energy." "So, you will . . . " Seiya struggled to understand. "You will use us . . . our Crystals . . . to drain the planet dry, and then . . . with us as fuel cells, sort of . . . you will teleport . . . to the Andromeda galaxy . . . " "It's quite a brilliant plan, isn't it? Nobody has ever attempted a cross- galactic teleport before; but then again, nobody has ever attempted to use an entire planet and all of its inhabitants as one giant burst of teleportation energy before." "I will die," Seiya stated, suddenly, but emotionlessly. "Of course," Malathos agreed sadly. "Your Crystal will be channeling an enormous amount of energy, draining it from the planet itself and then passing it on to my body. Toward the end of the teleport, you will simply burn up and die." He caressed her cheek, sweetly, gently. "But your death will not be in vain, Fighter. You will have aided me in crossing over to a whole new world, where I will save all of its inhabitants from the accursed burdens of love and feeling. I cannot make the jump without your Sailor Crystals to control the energy flows; your sacrifice is a necessary one. But, why does it even matter to you, Fighter? Do you even care about your own death anymore?" Seiya stared at him, her eyes wide and shimmering. Finally, she took a deep, slow breath. "No," she exhaled the word. "I don't care. I live my life only for you." Malathos beamed at her proudly. It was over, then; his grip on her heart was firmly established, and he had nothing more to worry about. Now, all he had to do was figure a way out of the strange realm in which she had entrapped them-- "But . . ." For a moment, Malathos was taken aback. "Fighter, did you say something?" "I said, 'but' . . . " "But what, my darling?" A thin trickle of sweat slid down the back of Malathos's neck. But?! How could there be a but?! She was no longer capable of comprehending any reason to protest his words . . . was she? "But . . . " Seiya was breathing in and out, deeply, slowly, struggling to form the words. "But I don't want . . . " Panic suddenly clenched around Malathos's cold, black heart. No, she couldn't. She was no longer able to WANT or to NOT WANT anything but what he *told* her to want. Her heart still felt as if it were under his control; so, then, what was the source of this strange new desire . . . ? "But I don't want . . . " Seiya's face twisted into a grimace of effort. She wriggled in his grasp. "I don't want . . . Taiki or Yaten . . . to die." Malathos was utterly stunned. And then, he panicked. He brought his hands down and gripped her shoulders tightly, digging his fingernails into her flesh. He shook her roughly; she whimpered and went limp in his grasp. "But you don't care!" he yelled at her wincing face. "You don't CARE about their deaths, you don't CARE about what happens to them, you don't CARE about anything!" "I don't care," Seiya gasped, flinching away from him at the same time, "about my own death. But you'll kill them, too. And you'll . . . you'll . . . " Her mind teetered on the edge of a crucial realization. Malathos felt his blood run cold. He could sense what was about to happen inside the girl's mind; he knew, in that moment, that he was about to lose her. She was on the verge of remembering. There weren't just three Sailor Crystals; there were four. The fourth, of course, Malathos had planned to destroy. The Queen's crystal was simply too dangerous to allow to exist. For as long as it did . . . as long as the other three Senshi were aware of its existence . . . then Malathos would never completely rule their hearts. Malathos had destroyed the girl's memories of her Queen the moment that she had invited him in to freeze her heart; but now, in this moment, she was on the verge of resurrecting her dead memories. Malathos could not help but wonder how he had lost his grip on her mind, and how she had suddenly veered so close to the forbidden memories of her recent past-- "YOU'LL KILL KAKYUU!!" Seiya suddenly screamed, shrill, panicky, as her heart burst through its numbing layer of ice and her mind bucked free of Malathos's grip. Malathos felt her mind and soul abruptly slam shut, casting him out and exorcising his presence completely within a matter of nanoseconds. Malathos howled with rage, now sinking the tips of his fingers into her shoulders, skewering her upper body muscles with his digits and feelings fresh, warm streams of red blood beginning to course down his hands and arms. Seiya screamed again, this time in pain. She struggled to break free of his grasp, but that only made her wounds worse. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" "NEVER!" Malathos shook her roughly and roared into her face. "HOW DID YOU DO IT?! HOW DID YOU BREAK FREE OF ME?!" Seiya's face was growing pale; her eyes were glazed with pain. "You were talking about sadness and sorrow," she gasped, her cheeks white as snow, her voice hoarse and strained. "And then, all of a sudden, I remembered that Taiki once said that sorrow was the source of all great poetry. And I didn't care, but I remembered her face - how it was so sad, all the time . . . " Malathos sunk his fingers even further into her flesh, his face twisted into a snarling mask of anger and hatred. He felt the tips of his left thumb and forefinger touching her hard, bony shoulder plate; they had forced their way all the way through the girl's flesh and muscle. "But why did it matter to you?! Why did you care about her?!" "And Yaten, too . . . I remembered her face, and how she used to be so sad . . . " Seiya's voice was choked with a haze of pain. "Let me go! You're hurting me!" "BUT WHY DID YOU CARE?!" "BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T FREEZE MY HEART ALL THE WAY!" she suddenly screamed back at him, her voice carrying an equal measure of hatred and fury. "You didn't just try to make me numb to everything, you TRIED TO MAKE ME LOVE YOU! Because that's the only way it will work, isn't it?! I WON'T DIE FOR YOU UNLESS I LOVE YOU, AND YOU KNOW IT!" Her eyes were bloodshot; her face was pale white, but her cheeks blazed with an angry crimson flush. "AND AS LONG AS I CAN STILL LOVE, I'LL ALWAYS LOVE THEM, TOO! AND I WON'T LET YOU TOUCH THEM! I WON'T LET YOU HURT THEM--!" "YOU IDIOT!" With a gruesome wet popping sound, Malathos's right forefinger punched through her other shoulder - cracked right through the shoulder plate with the help of a bit of sorcery, just a bit of a magical push - and met with his thumb. "HOW COULD YOU KNOW ALL THAT, YOU SIMPLE-MINDED LITTLE FOOL?!" "I'M NOT AN IDIOT!" She was screaming her throat raw, now; tears of hysteria streamed down her cheeks. "I'M NOT! I'M NOT!!!!!" "If you're so smart, then why can't you tell me WHERE THE HELL we are right now?!" He finally stopped shaking her. He held her up with his hands, letting her feet dangle off the invisible dark ground, letting the weight of her body hang by her shoulders, impaled and suspended upon his impossibly long, steel-like fingers. She sobbed weakly, her arms and sides covered by her own leaking blood, her legs dangling uselessly below her. She wanted to kick him; she had neither the strength nor the will to do so. "Tell me where we are and how we are to escape from this realm," Malathos commanded her, slowly, darkly, "and I might decide not to inflict any more pain upon you." "What will you do, kill me?" Seiya's voice was watery, trembling; it betrayed her fear, destroyed the bravado behind her words. "You can't kill me. You'll never make it to the Andromeda galaxy without me." "No, but . . . I can make the next few minutes . . . very, very painful for you." He grinned at her, maliciously. "Don't misunderstand me, Kou Seiya - I will have your love and your loyalty eventually. I will just be a matter of time, my dear. You simply cannot resist my will forever. However, in the meantime, I think I'll torture you a little bit. Nothing much, I just like to rip apart your body and watch you bleed a little bit. Isn't it marvelous, how YOUR accidental act of trapping me in this realm and in this corporeal body has given ME the physical means to do you harm? Let's see if we can figure out a way to get us out of here before I'm finished with you, all right? What do you say, old girl? Does that sound like a proposition for you?" "No," Seiya moaned, low and panicky. "Too bad," Malathos said flatly, as he slowly pulled his left thumb downward through her chest, pulling her flesh apart as he did so, digging a deep, bleeding gash from the center of her shoulder down to the top of her soft breast. "Because for me, the fun's just beginning." - end part twenty -