Hollowed Days [Catherine/SOLO]

The slice and squelching of flesh being torn into with considerable fervor rattled the peaceful darkness of the woods, laughter and curses spat at the corpse as the thin digits of a girl held tight to a knife of bone, further slaughtering her already dead target. Such a grotesque mix of ferocity and blind enjoyment coursed through her veins like hot fire, passion and hatred in her mutilation of the Enemy.



“..That’s-”

“The hollow, yeah.”

Morning peaked above the trees with a tender hello upon a gruesome appearance; a teenaged girl with hollow eyes holding tight to the scruff of a bloodied, eviscerated hollow, it’s limbs hanging limp as there was hardly much above it’s shoulders other than a gorey mass of flesh and bone, mashed and cut into over and over until it was little more than a festering paste sitting atop it’s neck.

A worried look crossed the lady whom had answered the door, gesturing to the hollow, “What happened to it’s head?”

Sullen eyes looked to it, and then back up to her, “It was a biter.”

“Hon, that’s the fifth “biter” in a row. Are you sure you’re alright-”

“Cash.” A hand was held out with little interest in anything else that was to be said. She was tired from her arm throbbing; the little bastard must’ve stabbed her with something.

“Your arm is swollen, I can take you to the hospital-”

“Cash.” A slight flex of the fingers emphasized.

“Good lord, at least come in and take a shower! You’re a mess!”

“Cash.” She was getting tired of doing this back and forth.

The taller blonde lady had a look of defeat; of course she did, she only started doing work under her because she insisted she’d pay her for it if it meant she was getting her expenses in order. But that was all she agreed to - these extra acts of charity were nothing more than a potential trap to the girl. Next she knew, a small stack of green was in her hand, which she held tightly and began walking away, having dropped the gnarled corpse at the doorstep.

“At least let me make my little exterminator some breakfast...” A defeated tone was spoken with that last suggestion, that was what she always asked her - as if the answer would ever change.

“Have a nice day, Ms. Luna.”

She could've been looking out for "her little exterminator", she could've been a perfectly nice and kind lady who just wanted to house some poor homeless teenager. But she had no faith in that. There was no faith someone could be that kind with no strings to it.

Everyone always wanted something from her.

Ding~Dong~

The familiar friendly welcome chime of the convenience store’s door opening grated her ears. Her body trembled and shook, sweat rolling down her face; she hoped the walk across town would’ve been faster, she needed stuff to clean and dress her wound. It would be alright, she just had to muscle through it all.

Shelf, shelf, shelf, what was a normal routine felt like a confusing haze - she kept forgetting the amount of the items she had collected, and of course cautiously stashing away the strong night cold medicine. Stupid laws.

Approaching the counter, it felt like the lights were bending above her and her footsteps were becoming uneasy. A concerned look flashed in her vision - the person manning the counter.

“Hey, kid? You don’t look so good-”

“How much for these?” She’d cut off the remark of concern by dropping all her items of the counter. Despite that face, he’d do his job, scanning everything until the register gave a number.

“..Uh, thirty-six dollars and twenty-three cents.”

“Do you take fifties?”

“Oh, uh.. Yeah-” THUMP. A bill was slapped on the counter with little hesitance, the cashier taking it like she was going to bite him if he moved wrong.

“Here’s your change-” With an eager snatch and quick counting of change, eyes that peered past the young man, off a thousand miles, still seemed to peer deep into him.

“You owe me a quarter.”

“I gave you your change, ma’am.” Unnerved, but still crossed his arms and rose his brow.

“Thirty-six twenty-three, I gave you fifty. Fifty minus thirty-six twenty-three is thirteen seventy-seven. You gave me thirteen fifty-two.”

“Kid it’s just a quarter…”

“Give. Me. The. Damn. Quarter.”

Relenting, the register would open with a twist of the key, dropping the quarter on the countertop, “Have a nice day, ma’am.” Was spoken with irritation, rolling eyes and turning away with a muttering about kids.

There was no satisfaction in getting what she was owed, too tired and fixated staring at the change in her hand as she’d walk out with a bag of stuff, panting. Did the chills get worse? She had to dress this wound…

Unsteady, hoarse breaths were only broken by the sound of an alarm, her phone going off with a loud chime that wrenched her from her drugged sleep. Dizzy and uneasy, it felt like the earth flipped three times before her vision settled, a painful darkness hitting her eyes and hammering her skull. The pain was so awful that she felt ill to her stomach. Hands shook weakly to turn off the phone's alarm, the brightness of the cracked screen feeling like daggers in her eyes as two buzzes that almost made the device slip out of her weak hands went off: two messages of another one of her local clients, offering the established amount to make sure the canal area was clear.

Attempts to type a message were in vain with her trembling fingers, instead resolving to press the recommended words to string together some form of confirmation. Placing the device down, she'd shuffle in the old clothes she'd sewn into a blanket. The air smelled moist and hot, but she felt like she was freezing.. Did that hollow have venom or something? It was fine, that wasn't new, she'd been hit with venom before... No, it's fine. Just had to push and do this job so she could afford more medicine next month and keep saving...

Niiiissy~ The mere sound of That Voice made her gag and panic, looking around frantically, but that action made the inevitable happen, foul tasting liquid spilling from her lips as she collapsed to her knees. He couldn't be here, He was gone, He had to be...

Why can't you just let me have your body, huh? Coughs and sputters shook her shoulders as a hand covered her mouth, closing her eyes shut as to avoid any further pain to her head and eyes.

I've done so much for you, Nissy! you can't just do this one little thing for me in return? That horrible voice ran through her thoughts just as she heard them for the first time, shaking and pressing her hands against her face, Just to feel alive for a little bit longer in your body? You've taken so much from me, even my own life, Nissy! But that's fine, I still love you, this is my way of reminding you of that! Just to have your beautiful body for a little bit... Don't you want to feel wanted?

Those words were burned into her brain, no matter how much she begged them to stop, heated tears running down her red face as the roar of insults invaded her mind, forcing herself to her feet as pleas and mockeries crammed into her ears. Hours of hatred and love that spilled into her, having broken her heart and shattered her mind. Teeth gritted, heavy footsteps carried her across town as the past poisoned her head sick.

Those pristine, white faces.

Every single one of them was a reminder of Him. The haunter of her nightmares, the voice in the darkness, the ghost that had ruined everything.

A blade sunk into the blackened flesh of the humanoid creature, a horrific roar of shock and pain as it staggered back in the shallow waters of the canal. Her eyes were wide, even as her vision burned with pain at it's edges, every little sound or rapid movement feeling like the lash of a whip in her ears and eyes.

She looked upon it. All she could hear was His laugh, His playful scowls, His face on that very night as a sound that shattered lives took him.

Splatters of blood rained upon her, both her's and the creature's, switching the knife into a downward stabbing motion, the aid of Bringer Light forcing more impact into her blows and more ease in her speed, walking atop the shallows with little issue as she sought to end this hunt.

His face overhead...

A clawed hand pressed her down into the shallow waters, the battle drug out to beneath a bridge, the hollow having received the upper hand. It wanted to drown her, holding her head beneath the water. Little did it know, it would be receiving it's awful trick back tenfold. The pocket beneath the bridge flooded with water, dark waves unnaturally creeping up the sides of the bridge as it formed a space to hold both she and the hollow underwater. It's hold loosened, it's body lightened, her body turned, and finally a knife was in it's heart.

That water that drug all down to drown in sorrows dissipated with the twist of her weapon.

"Now somebody looks worse for wear, ah? Wake up."

Her eyes felt heavy to pull open, heat lapping at the edges of her senses with the sound of that voice, that accent disturbingly familiar even to her weary state. It couldn't be, he wouldn't know where to find her... Not that he would bother trying.. But it sounded like him...

"..Father?" Her hoarse voice spoke up as she felt a large, cold hand touch her forehead and neck, only for her vision to clear enough to recognize that it.. Wasn't. If she had the strength to, she would've gone to stab the man, but instead she held her knife in a vice grip, it was all she had strength for at this point.

"Ah lordy, ya' burning. Surprised ya even managed to come crawling out of bed." It was an older man speaking, with a voice that reminded her of her father's, same melodic accent and all, "Girl, didya kill that beastie?"

A large thumb pointed toward the hollow, crumbled on the ground with hardly any life to it's miserable form, innards spilling out. Trying to move her eyes felt like a labor on it's own, but she was able to understand the situation enough to nod, hair shifting against the grassy bank she lied on.

"With this?" A finger touched the point of the bloodied knife, as if it had no fear of being pricked by the sharp point. Another nod would be given.

"Girl, speak up. If ya can kill a Hollow in the state ya're'in, ya can use yar tongue," He sounded unimpressed, perhaps even a bit irritated.

"Yes.." She'd force out.

"Didya make this?"

"Yes..." It hurt to speak, but she pushed herself to do so anyway. The fuck was this guy's problem..? Why was he needling her so much? She just wanted to go back to the alleyway and sleep...

"Ah, good. I certainly hoped this wasn'ov professional work. Piece ah shit it is, surprised ya even got it's guts out." Disappointment and irritation filled the man's voice, but he'd still go on, "Alright girl, already did the trouble of trackn'ya down, and ya're passable. Get up."

What? Was he telling her to get up? She could hardly lift her arms, how was he expecting her to stand?

"Did that boy of mine poison ya blood that terribly? Yer'a child of Anders, of Ulberg blood. Even with your wee body, you should stand. So stand girl, stand or i'll put ya outta yer mis'ry."

As if to accentuate the point, the hulking man came to full height, his imposing figure drawing an exquisite blade - one that looked made of a terrible hollow's talons and bones.

"Up! Stand!" He'd bark a mere second later, the sense of urgency pumping through her blood as she struggled to push herself upright, those eyes staring intently at her, far too cold to be a predator - rather, it felt like a monster was looking upon her. In her push to come upright, she felt the wind get expelled from her lungs with the man's foot coming down on her torso, the pain shooting through her sickened body as she rolled closer to the water, panting.

"STAND!" His booming voice came with a raise of his weapon, the sword eager to spill blood as it came down on her.

She'd stopped it in time, having barely pushed herself into a crouch with her weapon pushing against his own, weakness shaking her flesh. Yet she still pushed against him, feeling her heart in her throat and terror in her chest as he didn't seem eager to let up so easily. It was a struggle, pushing against him and also keeping herself from falling, reminding herself again and again:
If I fall, I die.
If I fall, I die.
If I fall, I die.
If I fall, I die.

The familiar green spiral of Bringer Light coursed around her, planting her feet on the ground as she took a forced step toward him, eyes lit with determination. Something about this, about him, felt wrong - it felt like she was fighting a hollow...

"Is that all ya can muster?!" The shouts didn't stop as the two pushed against each other, "Yer a disgrace to ya forefathers, girl! Ya no different from the worthless lump I call son!"

"SHUT UP!" A scream tore her throat as she abandoned the struggle out of frustration, bobbing out of the way of the sword's swing only to come toward the larger figure with reckless abandon. The blade did not stab him; it was stopped, with him grabbing her arm.

The next several sensations seemed to bleed together in her delirious head - pain stabbed her stomach. It felt like she flew, just for a little, that she felt the freedom and weightlessness of the air. Then, an icy crash into dark water, her senses fading as she saw the figure walk toward her.