Words/Fanfiction/Relive
Title: Relive
Rating: PG-13
Game: Valkyrie Profile
Pairing: None
Description: My redition of how Lawfer died. :P
The corridor was quiet, not even a mouse dared to scatter across the damp cobblestone. Lawfer was silent and unnaturally calm, but still had a heavy spear hanging awkwardly from one hand as his only way of fighting off what was to come. His breaths were soft and low, controlling the very will of his nerves. It was odd to see a man of high standards treading in the palace of scum. But the spearman came here for a reason, and he wasn't leaving until he was satisfied.
A sickly cough echoed through the dim hallway, upsetting Lawfer's calm. He placed his hand on the cool stonewall and simply stood with his head hung, golden locks curtaining his distressed face. His breathing increased, his lungs were overcome with the feeling of fire. A drop of sweat trailed down his brow, and released itself from the tip of his nose.
It's alright, Lawfer reassured himself, relieving his clenched hand from the wall. He continued down the hall, ignoring the angry, starving, dying prisoners locked behind their iron bars. It angered him that some were left without trial, left here to die because throwing the souls into prison was easier than listening to their story. He was here to bring justice, to reclaim a being from the jaws of ignorance.
The blonde came across another series of halls. One going left, the other going right. He shook his head in frustration and guided himself down the left hall, his footsteps echoing, signaling, upsetting and reviving the prisoners from both ends of the corridors.
"Who's this? Well! If it isn't the captains son!" A scrubby man from the jail cell next to Lawfer called out, his arms reaching from the bars in an attempt to seize the blonde. His eyes had a strange glaze over them, and the pupil was that of a cats. His hair was covered from view by the dirty cloak he wore around himself, and his skin was unnaturally pale even in the dim light.
Lawfer looked at the man, his eyes wide with fear and general disgust. The young man's steps quickened, until it came into a full run. There was no control left in him. He was going to get caught... Right? The calls and clatters from down the hall practically gave his spot away. The guards would be back soon. He had to hurry.
Lawfer came to an end, and took a sharp right turn, still running from the haunting shouts that echoed eerily behind him. He finally called out, not caring who or what heard him, "ROLAND!" All he heard was the sound of his heavy armor, clattering against itself in a hasty rage. He slowed his pace and called out again, and again, and again.
"Lawfer?" A small voice called. The dark haired man got up from his wood bed and went to the bars of his cell. "Lawfer!" Roland shouted. He could hear the footsteps coming closer, though not very quick in the rescue. And then it all stopped... Just like that. The corridor was silent, the empty cells around him creating a presage of darkness, fear, and death.
Perhaps he was just hearing things...
The spearman looked up at the dripping ceiling. The whole place smelled like musk, or maybe it was urine. Whatever it was, it smelled badly, and the smells, the walls, all of it seemed to be getting smaller every step he took. Engulfing him in its never-ending need to sustain itself with unjustified prey. He adverted his gaze back to the course he was walking. This was it; if he did this he could be the laughing stock of the military. He could even be charged and put into this filthy place along side that scrubby old man he encountered just down the hall.
But at least he'd get a trial. More than what Roland got. And that's all he needed to fuel him forward.
Lawfer's steps echoed in the hall again, he didn't walk with a hasty stride, but a proud upright one. His lips rimmed in a smile of already announced victory. "Father... I am grateful that you chose a name for me that begins with 'Law'." He paused, the delicate sound of fear ringing on his voice as he continued. "Though it may not be exactly the type of 'Law' my father had in mind..."
The man was only a few steps away Roland's cell, the last cell in the series of the hallway. Just a few more steps, and he could have made it. Roland could have been a free man.
It happened in a fraction of a second. Lawfer didn't even feel it. One second he was fine, the next a blade emerged from his chest, blood dripping gloriously off the tip of the blade. Rivers of crimson twisted and swam down the shinny silver of the sword. Lawfer opened his mouth, attempting to scream out, but his voice had been snatched away. All he could do was moan, as the taste of coppery blood came to his throat. There was a loud clatter of steal onto stone as Lawfer dropped his bulky weapon.
"Lawfer?" Roland called out. The blonde's voice coming back slowly into a stifled scream, gurgling from the blood that rushed up his throat. "Hyne! Lawfer!" He cried, trying to see what was going on by pressing his face against the bars of his cell. All he could see was the shine of Lawfer's armor, brilliant red covering the front of the silver protection. And a dark figure looming over him, like death itself came to retaliate against the justice Lawfer was trying to serve.
The blade was retreated; a chorus of metal bending and the sound of flesh being cut were heard. Roland's stomach began to turn, fear reflecting in his chocolate eyes. Lawfer stumbled forward, and attempted to right himself. Roland could see the bleeding man better now, until the tall figure grabbed Lawfer by the neck of his armor and pulled him back.
The tall figure held Lawfer in an almost caring fashion. He kneeled down and placed the spearman on his knee. The boy breathed heavily, he could feel his life slipping with each drop of blood that escaped his wound. "What... W... Do... You want?" Lawfer asked with a hiss of pain escaping between his teeth.
The man shook his head, it becoming evident that this was the man that he had encountered earlier. His hair was free to see from the cloak. It was a dark red and cut short to about his chin. The color was fascinating, and Lawfer caught himself staring at it. It looked like hundred strands of blood frozen to make an illusion of hair. It was eerie, and so were the yellow glazed eyes that looked horribly predatory at that moment.
"Now, sir, you know you aren't supposed to be down here!" The man said in good humor. He bared a smile, a smile that brought all the realities of the situation to life. The enlarged canines, the pale completion... The scent of blood coating his very being.
This man was death. This man was a vampire.
Lawfer mumbled incoherently, he barely had enough energy to do that, then to actually pick up his spear and fight. Was he going to die?
He was going to die.
He was going to die!
A million things ran in his mind. He couldn't even think of what he was thinking of, he was so dazed... So confused. He was going to die! That was the only thing he knew. He also knew he had failed. Failed everything.
"Your father would have been angry with you," the vampire said. Lawfer could barely hear his words. His hearing was slipping. His life was turning into one big, black tunnel. "I should have taken that boy instead, shouldn't I?" The vampire shrugged, not really caring whom he had for dinner. "Warrior blood is always the best!" He exclaimed, too cheerful and sadistic for even a vampires own good.
Lawfer moaned, trying with every muscle to get up. Maybe he could retaliate. A warrior never gives up, but his senses were dull, something had him depressed. Something was controlling him. "I'm... Sorry... Roland." He murmured.
"No! Lawfer!" Roland shouted, pressing himself up against his restraints, a surge of energy running through his frail body. "No..." He backed away from the door, his hands covering his face, as if he was attempting to dispel the horrors before him.
The Vampire placed a hand on Lawfer's head, shifting it so his pale neck was exposed. The vein that ran up his neck pulsed quickly, the beats ringing in both the blonde's and the vampire's ears. He licked his lips and lowered his head, placing his fangs slowly into the boy's neck. Lawfer cried out, his hands straining into tightly balled fists. The blood rushed into the vampire's mouth, the sweet taste of a warrior's blood filling his very own veins. It was rejuvenating, delicious... Beautiful almost.
The blood kept flowing; Lawfer's pulse slowed a little at every gulp the vampire took from him. It hurt so much having the very life sucked out of you. It felt like a million knives were poking at every inch of his body, and some parts started to go numb. It was like his body parts were dying before his brain finally gave up. Lawfer whimpered as his upper body finally went numb, his heart slowing to an unsustainable amount of beats.
Lawfer screamed out one last time, his plea being diffused into the empty cells in the hallway. Roland stumbled onto his flat bed and wrapped his arms around his knees. He hummed nervously to himself. He had lost everything, and it only took two days for it to happen.
The blonde lay limp on the vampire's lap, his eyes quickly turning to a dull ocean blue. A stray tear running down his cheek, cooling blood running courses down his punctured neck and stabbed chest... Was he dead?
He was dead.
The vampire stood up, letting the poor spearman drop to the floor on his own, his armor clattering on the stone floor. He wiped his mouth politely and walked next to Roland's cell. "At least it wasn't you." He said, and he just disappeared. Just like that, he was gone. Just as when the sword appeared and ended Lawfer's young life. Roland screamed silently and gave up. He cried silently as his dead friend laid out in the jail's hallway.
Lawfer woke up, a surge of detestable pain running through his head. He moaned slightly, rubbing his temples with two forefingers. He opened his eyes to find nothing. It was like his eyes were still closed. Shaking his head as he began to stand up. The last thing he remembered was going in to save Roland... And... Getting attacked by the vampire.
Was... He dead?
Lawfer looked around, confused and a bit scared. Where was he? If he was really dead… Where was he going? He breathed in staggered and released it with a heavy sigh. Not like there was any air around, anyways.
"You've proven yourself worthy," a feminine voice called from behind Lawfer. He turned around abruptly to see a beautiful lady dressed in war garments. A helmet fashioned with four white feathers coming off from each side shadowed her face. Her gray, braided hair lay heavily on her back. A set of beautiful white wings hung over her head.
"W-Who... Are you?" Lawfer questioned, taking a step forward, a curious expression on his face. She lifted her head slightly, exposing her face to the light she seemed to emit. "Are you...?"
"I'm the battle-maiden Valkyrie. You have proven yourself fit to be a warrior for Asgard." She said sternly, the blue of her armor brought out the color of her eyes, making it almost haunting.
"An Einjerhar?" Lawfer questioned, his hand raking through his hair. "But, I did not even... Why?"
"Your sense of justice and loyalty is much needed. You are what we have been looking for."
"But, Roland." The blonde looked down, as if he could see the face of his friend in the black abyss. "Please help him." He looked up at Valkyrie, his eyes pleading for her help.
Valkyrie looked at him, her face never changing expression. "Fate cannot be changed. He was judged wrong, and he was put to do what he had to. There might be a better end for him at a later date." She began to turn around. "If you do not wish to come, then you may go to Niflheim."
Lawfer stared blankly at her turned back. Perhaps she was right. He did all he could do; maybe his death would end up in Roland's freedom. "No, I would be honored to fight with you."
Valkyrie nodded, and both souls were jolted back to a new reality. A reality of death, of souls, and of monsters.
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