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The moon shined bright at the peak of midnight, its light illuminating the fragile yellow leaves that barely held on to the dried up tree branches, some of them flying and dancing with the chilly autumn wind, decorating on their fall the dark earthy paths of New Meridian with just enough color to make up for the moribund ambient that the poor city had been struggling with for decades.
The dead rise up from their graves constantly in the city after all, fighting and revolting the strength of the Skullheart to no avail; everything is just made worse by the bloodpath the Medici and Renoir family leave behind them, adding piles of corpses to the already big enough army of any skullgirl. No soul has been able to escape the misfortune of the city, and those who do only buy themselves a little bit more time before death comes knocking at their door.
Two souls may have bought themselves just enough time to see how things haven’t changed since they left. Two souls bonded by blood and tragedy.
Sienna Contiello and Leviathan rested in a graveyard, secluded from the city and guarded by ghosts and memories from times past. The small girl slept on top of a flat tombstone, the fight from earlier that day drained almost all of her energy, new and fresh wounds decorated her rotting skin as well as her dark blue worn out dress; hands rested upon her chest, she slept peacefully, or as peaceful as a tormented mind could sleep.
A tall man sat beside Squigly, long boney fingers intertwined and sat on his lap, hair strands almost covering tired eyes. He looked up at the moon as if praying to it, asking for an answer, but the moon never answered back.
“For how long could ‘undead’ last?” Was the question tormenting Leviathan; The day Squigly’s body couldn’t withstand the battles and the fire, as well as the rot, the day her will flaked and twisted, the day his powers would not be enough to contain the corruption of the Skull Heart. These scenarios hurt like a dagger piercing his heart and the thought only formed a pit in his stomach.
Tragic nights seemed to follow the Contiello, but none was as devastating as Selene’s birthday; The screams of agony coming from guests, a chain of gunshots, broken glass, blood and despair, he’ll never forget that cursed night.
He couldn’t afford to lose his remaining family, not again, not after the promise he made to them— to his dear Roberto, he must protect Sienna, not a single hand may lie on her, for as long as he is alive the Contiello song will forever echo; and the fear of silence was greater than the force keeping his feet on the earth.
Though, maintaining the flame burning might be rather difficult… After all, two pests still invade the city: The Skullgirl and the Medici. To his surprise (and if he’d read the Skullgirl’s behavior correctly) it looks like she’s also after the mafia— after Lorenzo Medici; tsking his tongue and slowly lowering his head to look at the dead grass below, Leviathan wondered if things had really been this... stagnant, wondered that even after the silencing of so many voices, more were on their way to extinction just because of the decisions of a single Man and the inaction of The Crown.
The albino shifted one arm to his knee and rested his head on the palm of his hand, an uneasy feeling crawled from his spine and settled on his chest, he sighed in distress, how could he forget? There was something he could stop in
that short amount of time, at least he thought he could. That dastardly wolf.
Samson.
Oh Samson, how many centuries have passed and how many mistakes have you have we incessantly made? I can only count the time, 200 decades.
That girl . . . Filia, I’m worried about her; she’s not the first and she may not be the last, just what in the saint stars are you trying to achieve? What ulterior motives could you have? Pity never moved you- it was always guilt.
I tried to retrace our steps, figure out where it went wrong, doing my best to keep my head clear, but I just couldn’t do it. Is there anything on this goddamn earth that will drive away your careless meddling, anything? How many tragedies have to be written by countless hosts for you to not chase endlessly after the Skull Heart.
I buried my head in both hands and shut my eyes, I can’t think- I can’t… The air is too stagnant, too strong- spongy moss, soft soil recently shoveled, dust everywhere, wilting of pretty roses, mahogany varnish, tapping of rusty nails, creaking and cracking of wood, the sensation of falling, a dry thump, maggots and worms all over, bone and inescapable rot; an acid flavor behind my tongue, my eyes saw blurry, the unmistaken smell of putrid and the striking uproar of dead silence.
Leviathan didn’t realize when the tears fell from his eyes to his chin, every passing second made breathing more and more difficult, like his lungs betrayed the man; drowned out whimpers and sobs escaped from his mouth. He felt pathetic, like an inconsolable child with no arms to cry on but his own. A storm of sorrowful, melancholic, impotence and furious thought whirlpooled in his mind, it was overwhelming to the point he didn’t know if the pain in his chest was real or not.
The man’s wailing was interrupted by a sweet and delicate voice, snapping him back to reality.
— Leviathan, is everything okay? — Worry filled her voice, the small girl sat up from her sleeping position.
Surprised and opening his eyes back up, Leviathan shifted his position slightly away from Squigly, hands rushing to dry and clean the fallen tears in his face, thankfully his voice hadn’t betrayed him.
— Ah… Squigly, yes… yes I’m alright, please, there’s no need to worry, what is it that woke you up? — He tried to deflect the conversation somewhere else.
— Lev, you didn’t sound fine… besides, I think I should be asking that! — Burrowing her brows and getting closer to where Leviathan sat, she was persistent as ever.
— M’lady I am alright, you can take my word for it — The man shifted his position to face Squigly now and placed both hands on hers.
— I just need some time to think about what we will do next, I suggest you go back to sleep — And with that, the albino stood up, fixed his vest, then turned away to start walking.
Sienna sighed in defeat as she knew that arguing with Leviathan was inconsequential, with no other option but to resume her rest, to the best of her abilities after all the worry.
Leviathan wandered aimlessly across the sparse graveyard, there’s really not much to do but reflect; He passed tombstone after tombstone some old, some new, a few small, a few taller, clean and musty ones, all had something in common: they could finally rest, unbothered by what happened above.
Looking up at the moon again, its light illuminated his pale face and this time he pleaded more than he prayed, for the moon to answer the questions in his mind, but it did not answer, at least not now.
Maybe deep down, he’d hope that something else might acknowledge him, bothered by what is happening below — Goddesses perhaps —
But they have yet to answer.