Chapter 4 - Ignorance

Author's notes:
-Hey there, D.A.-chan back for more. I wrote this chapter, btw, as the last one was written by Brian. You can tell this one's mine because of all the random conversation and overabundance of character development *le sigh*
-Again, I would like to remind everyone that my computer has no spell check, and so any errors are credited to that unfortunate circumstance.
Enjoy! :D




The flames had succeeded in bringing most of the city of Otakon to the ground by the time they had been put out. The fire department had arrived eventually, but it was difficult, what with the traffic for the festival. Dolosus had left long before then, however. He had far more pressing matters to attend to. This being the case, he had hurried back to his hotel room and rapidly repacked his belongings, half hazardly launching articles of clothing into his suit case without even looking at what he was doing. Once finished, he swung his scythe through the air and created a wormhole, which he used to arrive immediately in his room back at the organization.
“Alright, that’s everythi-“ he stopped short on his way to the door. He scowled and slapped his forehead, sighing. Another wormhole, and he was gone. Moments later, he reappeared in the same spot, the same expression on his face. As he made his way out of his room and down the hallway to Demonic’s room, he muttered to himself irritably,
“Actually in a hurry to get back for once, and I forget to check out of the hotel. Figures.”
Soon, he stood in front of the large oak doors to his master’s room. He took a deep breath and raised a fist to knock.
“Dolosuuus!” a girl’s voice sounded from behind him. He sighed, not even bothering to lower his hand or turn around to face the crows.
“What is it? I don’t have time for you two today.”
“Oooh, that’s not very nice. Looks like little Dolo-kun’s PMSing again, huh, brother.”
“I’ll say. Really, Dolosus, I’m hurt.”
Dolosus let out another heavy sigh. He lowered his fist to his side, slowly, as if making a great effort to restrain himself. His muscles tensed, and the crows exchanged a glance. The male crow cleared his throat and spoke up,
“Anyway… you wont find our master in there, if that’s why you’re here.”
“Really.” He muttered, secretly very grateful that they had caught on to his mood, and had the common sense not to push his temper, “Well, where is she then? There are no training sessions for her to oversee today—she specifically instructed that none be scheduled, so I don’t see why she wouldn’t be-“
“Ugh, you really can be dense sometimes, you know that?” the female commented, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away from the door and back down the hallway.
“Get off! Where are you-“
“Honestly, you’d think he’d have noticed by now, what with all of the preparations and everything that’s been going on.” The male went on, taking hold of Dolosus’ free arm and pulling him along with such force that he had difficulty keeping his balance—which seemed to amuse and delight both crow siblings.
Dolosus soon realized that he was being lead to the dining hall. This room was very rarely used, as all those who worked for Demonic had their own rooms, and so they would usually eat there, in solitude. That anyone would be in the dining hall, let alone Demonic, seemed unlikely.
“What are you trying to pull?” he demanded. The crows gave no answer, but opened the doors to the dining hall and flung Dolosus inside.
“If this is some kind of joke, I swear, I’ll rip off your wings and shove…” he drifted off. The eyes of every member of the organization stared unblinkingly at him. On a moment’s observation, he also saw that Demonic was indeed in this room, and also stared at him with eyes which could probably burn holes through his body.
The dining room was decorated lavishly. The ceiling high windows were framed by artistically draped black curtains, and each was adorned with a wreath bearing a red bow and a candle in the center. An enormous chandelier hung above the long oak table at which sat Demonic, at the head, of course, and every other member of her little freak show. Dolosus also noticed that the “higher up” members had the honor and privilage of sitting closer to their master.
“Dolosus.” She said in mock surprise, “how lovely that you’ve decided to join us. Come. Sit.” Clearly, this was a command, not an invitation. He took a step towards the empty seat on Demonic’s right. “One moment. Stand still.” He obeyed, puzzled. In just a few fast movements, she seemed to trace an image in the air between herself and Dolosus with her index finger.
“There. We can’t have you dressed like a slob for such an occasion.” With a flash of green light, he now stood, clothed in a perfectly fitted proper black tux. He observed his new attired, eyebrows raised, then frowned and looked back up at Demonic,
“Master, what is all of this? Why is this all happening? Tell me what’s going on.” Dolosus hadn’t even seen the slice of cheese until it hit him square in the face, causing an amusing smacking noise. He was effectively silenced.
“You show up late and then complain and demand answers.” Demonic said, “Sit down and shut up. Honestly, the things you put me through…” she added in an undertone. Then, clearing her throat, she went on to say, “And now, without any further adue, let the feast commence.” As soon as the words had left her lips, the room became crowded with waiters and waitresses bringing in the most delicious and exotic dishes to the table on large silver plates, each nearly big enough to be its own table. As soon as the food was set, the conversation and laughter began.
Dolosus seated himself at Demonic’s right, directly across from Kat, who watched him curiously, then laughed as he looked down the front of his shirt to find that he was indeed completely re-dressed. He had thought briefly that perhaps he was still wearing his usual attired underneath his new formal wear. Demonic also grinned in mild amusement at this.
“It’s a neat little trick.” She said conversationally, “that outfit had already been designed, and so I didn’t need my paintbrush to create it. I simply trace it onto your body with my finger, and with a little extra effort, I can even replace the clothes you’re already wearing with what I invision.”
“Isn’t it cool?” Kat gushed, “she even made me this dress. It’s so beautiful, don’t’ you think, Dolo-kun?”
“Y-yeah… it’s… it’s nice.” He muttered, picking up his fork and pushing his food around on his plate. In all honesty, Kat’s dress was gorgous on her. It was strapless, form fitting, white with red lace and an abundance of frills. At the waist, it flared out, fluttering about her and hanging down to just above her knees. The overall look bordered on a lolita style.
Dolosus hardly took the time to look, however. The current situation completely disoriented him. He had never dined with his master, in fact, he often doubted whether she actually ate anything at all. Yet here he was, sitting right next to her, having a pleasant chat over dinner, and she too, looked oddly stunning.
She wore a black choker necklace and a long, low cut black gown with sleeves that fit her arms tightly, then fanned out at the elbows. It was simple, but the effect was disturbingly beautiful.
“So, Dolosus, as I am willing to excuse your tardy as being fashionably late, let us move on to a more relevant matter.” She said, “how was your most recent mission?”
“Successful.” He responded curtly. Demonic seemed to expect more, but he took a mouthfull of turkey, signalling that he had said all that he pleased to say.
“…Good.” She said. A long silence followed. They both ate quietly, listening on other’s conversations and occupying themselves with their own thoughts.
“That trick of yours is… disturbing.” Dolosus finally said. Demonic looked up at him. He went on, “May I be so bold as to request that you refrain from undressing me in the future?”
“You may not.” She responded in all seriousness, taking a sip of a particularly dry red wine, “I will undress you when and where I please, as is my right as your master.” This last comment earned a number of curious looks, which then advanced to crude jokes. Demonic hardly seemed to notice. She poured some gravy onto a modest mound of potatos on her plate and picked up her spoon to eat, but Dolosus spoke again,
“What is the meaning of all this?” he asked for a second time, looking around the room and taking in every detail, “Why did you choose to dine with us tonight? And why such a feast?”
She sighed impatiently and placed her spoon back on the table.
“Really, Dolosus, you have the intellectual capabilities of a squashed kumquat.” He opened his mouth to speak, but Kat cut in,
“It’s Christmas! You mean you didn’t know? How could you not know it’s Christmas?” she stared at him as though he had just announced that he was pregnant with Demonic’s child, and in her surprise, she had completely forgotten the fork full of turkey she still held, suspended between her mouth and her plate.
“I… suppose I forgot…” he muttered, shrugging. He had only experienced Christmas twice before, as far as he could remember (which made much more sense, now that he knew that Demonic had created him just two years before). Both previous Christmases had passed by with little notice. Once, he had been on a mission in a primarily Hindu area, where December 25th didn’t quite hold the same meaning, and the next year he had spent the day in his room, reading, and generally keeping to himself. He had expected this year to be no different.
“Have you… always dined with us on Christmas?” he asked, feeling somewhat awkward.
“No, don’t worry, you’re not that clueless. I figured I’d start up a tradition.” Demonic answered, as she took another sip of wine, smiling to herself as if at some inside joke.
“Dolo-kun, does this mean that you’ve never celebrated Christmas before?” Kat questioned, her voice full of sympathy, and her mouth full of ham.
“I haven’t.” he said, “and kindly refrain from calling me ‘Dolo-kun’. Despite what the crows have no doubt already told you, I do not enjoy being called by that little nickname of theirs.” He punctuated this sentence with a glare at the crow siblings, who sat a couple seats down. Their response was an innocent smile and a giggle.
“Oh, sorry, I thought it was cute.”
“Nevermind.” Dolosus looked back at Kat across the table and made it a point to change the subject, “How was your first mission? Were you successful?”
Kat quickly shoved a forkfull of turkey into her mouth to avoid answering immediately. She chewed slowly and deliberately. She really didn’t want to talk about it, but Dolosus waited patiently for her to respond. Clearly, he would not just let this go.
“Do tell us, Kat.” Demonic chimed in, “I am quite eager to hear how it went, as well.”
“Well…” Kat finally said, “I got the guy.”
“Good to hear.” Demonic said. Dolosus nodded in approval. Kat hesitated, then went on,
“It was pretty easy. No on even suspected that I was up to anything.” She laughed awkwardly, “I actually fit right in. the target was exactly where you said he would be at the appointed time, and just one tornado took out him and a few nearby tents and booths.” Kat paused for a moment to pour herself a glass of wine and gather her thoughts, “But, there was one small mishap…”
“…Oh?” Demonic raised an eyebrow.
“The city sort of… went up in flames.”
Demonic chuckled pleasantly and finished off her wine, setting the glass back down on the table with a small “clink”.
“Did it now? Well, no use crying over spilled milk—or burned cities for that matter.” Another cheerful laugh. Anger began to prickle inside of Dolosus, but he restrained himself. Seeing Kat hang her head, avoiding eye contact with him and their master, however, intensified his aggrivation. Surely, she knew that her wind had spread the fire, that the destruction of a city, the death of innocent people was partially her fault.
“That’s all there is to it?” he said quietly.
“Pardon?”
“’No use crying over it’. That’s all? It’s of absolutely no consequence to you—as long as you get what you want.”
“Dolosus, I warn you, I will not have this.”
“I don’t care.” He got to his feet, his pulse racing, his fists clenched. By now, everyone in the room was watching with interest, “I want an explanation, now!”
”You seem to be of the opinion, Dolosus.” She retorted, also getting to her feet and raising her voice, “that because I have agreed to help Kat to find her friend, I have somehow turned into Mother Teresa. I assure you that this is not the case. I still have my goals, my ambitions, and I will do what is needed to achieve them.”
“So, for your stupid ‘ambitions’, you’re willing to-“
“Yes. I am.” She cut in, a note of finality in her voice. She slowly sat down once more and gestured to Dolosus’ chair, “Now, sit down, and finish your dinner.”
It was impossible to tell how long the two stared at each other, challenging each other, each daring the other to break the oppressive silence which dominated the room. It seemed to go on for hours, though it may have been a minute at most. Dolosus did not sit down, and Demonic did not repeat her command. In the end, something in her eyes must have affected him. Without a word, without looking back, he turned and walked out of the dining hall, slamming the doors shut behind him.
Demonic cleared her throat and signalled for the waiters to bring dessert.

Unlike Dolosus, Kat had stayed for the entire meal, mostly in an effort to be polite. She even managed to cheer herself up a little bit by engaging in conversation with the other organization members. She listened intently as they told of the places they had been and the people they had seen (and killed), and she found it all rather fascinating. By the time their goodnights were said, and Kat was on her way to her room, she actually found herself looking forward to her next mission and making a mental note to ask Dolosus of his travels when she saw him next.
“Though… I don’t think he likes me very much…” she said to herself a little sadly as she plopped herself down on her bed. She sighed and stared up at the ceiling, “Oh well. It wont matter once I find Altojo. Then, once Crimson’s done with her training, we can all be together again.” She drew comfort from these thoughts. She could get away from this place and all of the bizarre drama that came with it. She’d get away from the training sessions, from Demonic’s schemes and Dolosus’ attitude.
But then, she thought, the crows aren’t so bad—even if their pranks aren’t always harmless and their diet is somewhat disturbing. And she didn’t really know Dolosus. What if she talked to him and he turned out to be alright? The idea of traveling all around the world on her missions was also tempting. What if, after she found her friends, she stayed with the organization? What if…?
“Kaaat!” the sister crow’s voice sounded musically through her room as she made a dramatic and overly excited entrance. Kat smiled and sat up on her bed, then noticed that the crow was alone.
“Hey, where’s your brother? I’ve never seen you without him.”
“Most people haven’t.” she admitted with a laugh, “He’s being an immature dick and hogging the shower in our room, so I figured I’d chill here for a little while until he’s done.” She made herself at home, jumping onto Kat’s bed without even taking off her boots. Kat rolled her eyes, smiling wryly.
“So, funny stuff back there at dinner, huh.”
“’Funny’ wasn’t the first word that came to mind.” She sighed, “Doesn’t matter. It wont be my problem once I’m out of here.”
“It’s a shame you’re leaving.” The crow said, “I kinda like you.” Kat gave a short laugh.
“Yeah? What about Dolosus?”
“Oh, I like him too, but mostly just because he’s fun to mess with.”
“No, I mean I don’t think he likes me.”
The crow shrugged,
“Who knows? I don’t think he really likes anyone.”
“Why’s that? Superiority complex?”
“Not likely. He just keeps to himself, I guess. But the fact that he was willing to speak to you during dinner says something, at least.”
“Hmmm…”
A short silence.
“What’s he like? This Altojo guy you’re looking for, I mean.” The crow said for a change of subject.
“He’s… well… he’s the strong and silent type.” The two girls laughed together, and to Kat, it felt like jumping into a pool on a humid summer day. When they had finished, she went on, “He’s really like a brother to me, you know? But he’s just so difficult sometimes. One day he started acting weird all of a sudden, and he just got up and left without telling me or Crimson where, why, or for how long. I mean, can you believe that? The jerk.” Kat crossed her arms and pouted childishly.
“Y’know, he’ll be the same even after you find him. That’s just how brothers are. Trust me, I would know.”
“I know…” Kat said, and a small smile touched her lips.
“And speaking of brothers,” the crow said as she got up off of the bed and started towards the door, “Mine should be done wasting the hot water by now. Why don’t you go try to bother Dolosus? I think he’s outside right now. Oh, and also…” she added, now already half way out the door, “word on the street is that we’re leaving to find Mr. Altojo pretty soon. We’ve got a general idea of where he is.”
“And I’m coming with you.”
“Of course.”
“So I can give him a good smack across the face when we find him.”
“Naturally.”
“Good night!”
“G’night.”

Snow had begun to fall outside, but Dolosus had no thoughts of going back in. He took off his glasses, which had fogged up in his time out in the cold, and turned his face up to the cloudy night sky. A deep sigh escaped his lips. Dolosus watched the fog from his warm breath rise and swirl in the air above him, then dissolve into the night.
“Hey. Aren’t you cold out here?”
“No, Kat. Go back inside.” He said, without even looking at her.
“I don’t want to.” She responded. She came to stand next to him, looking up into the sky, then at Dolosus. He slid his hands into his pockets and gave her an unreadable sideways glance.
“Fine. Suite yourself.” He looked away.
“I intend to.” Kat returned with a smile. He did not respond. Seing that he apparently wasn’t feeling very talkative, she decided to initiate conversation herself.
“Sooo… the crows and I were thinking of catching a movie sometime soon.”
He still said nothing, but watched her out of the corner of his eye.
“…You should come with us.” She offered cheerfully, “It’d be fun.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“People who carry that philosophy don’t live long.” He scoffed. Kat laughed, her voice shaking noticeably from the cold,
“Maybe.” She shrugged, “But anyway, that’s not the point. Will you come to the movie with us? We may even go have dinner afterward and hang out for a while.” Dolosus seemed lost in thought. Kat took it as a good sign that he was considering it at all.
“…What do you do when you hang out?”
“I dunno, we could just… chill… and… talk, I guess.”
“Talk?”
“Yup.”
“About what?”
“I dunno, whatever comes to mind.”
“You have conversations based on random thoughts?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“What?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“That was a random thought, and we’re having a conversation. See?”
“That’s… odd.”
“You’re odd.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“You still haven’t answered my first question.”
He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. It would be difficult to plan, what with all of them going on missions at different times. He would have to deal with people outside of the organization—something which he detested, and endeavored to do as infrequently as possible. He wouldn’t be able to bring his scythe with him, which made him nervous in and of itself. And yet…
“I’ll go.” He said, “but on one condition.”
“Name it.” Kat complied immediately, clapping her hands together in excitement.
“I’m going out for a walk now. I refuse to say where I’m going, so don’t ask. I will go to this movie with you and the crows on the condition that you absolutely will not follow me, or instruct the crows to do so.”
“I promise, but Dolosus-“
“Swear it on Altojo’s life.”
“I-I swear.”
“Good. I’m leaving now.”
He replaced his glasses high on the bridge of his nose, then took a few steps forward. His feet crunched in the snow, his hands still rested deep in his pockets, and he had set an expression of careful indifference on his face.
“G-Goodnight, Dolosus!” she called out to him, her voice echoing eerily around them. He stopped and half turned towards her. He observed her silently for a moment, then simply nodded to her, and continued on his way. Kat watched his back as he disappeared into the night. She went back inside, shivering terribly.

He arrived at his destination just as the doors of a nearby church opened for midnight mass. A steady flow of people started into the building, greeting each other with warm hearts and open arms, and all wishing each other a Merry Christmas. Dolosus watched them from his vantage point in the graveyard. The same graveyard to which he had fled after his last encounter with Crimson. He sought a certain grave. It would not doubt be more difficult to find in the blanket of snow now covering the ground, but he would find it eventually.
For about twenty minutes, he searched until he finally found the grave. A single unmarked grave, nearly covered by the snow. It was old, neglected, and most likely had not been visited for quite a while. This was why he had come here. This was what he needed to see.
“Not even a name…” he whispered to no one in particular. He frowned and crouched down to examine the stone more closely, but was careful not to kneel and get his pants wet in the snow. It was suddenly brought to the attention of his distracted mind that he was still wearing a tux. He sighed softly. He’d have to ask Demonic to put him in his old clothes again.
After this thought, his mind went blank. His eyes became unfocused and glazed over, and he simply stood in front of the grave, watching it as if expecting it to get up and move. Needless to say, it did not move, and neither did Dolosus.
He was brought back to earth when he heard someone approaching from the distance, the crunching snow bearing testimony to their presence. Dolosus strained his eyes to see who it was, but all that he could see was a vague outline and a head of startlingly blonde hair. He assumed from its length that this was a woman. She also appeared to be heading towards the graveyard where he now stood. His entire body tensed, and, without another glance at the approaching woman, he bolted for the church and hid himself around the corner of the building. From his current location, he could continue to watch her without being seen.
He worried for a moment that she may have seen him, but on closer observation, he saw that her head was hung, and she stared fixatedly at the snow covered ground. In her hands, she held a wreath, adorned with a single, modest, red bow.
Dolosus had to smother a gasp.
It was Crimson.
He struggled to calm his racing heart and silence his rapid breathing. He watched her kneel down and place the wreath in front of the very same grave which he had come here to see. She closed her eyes and folded her hands in prayer.
Dolosus nearly laughed. This was almost too perfect. He was almost glad that neither of them had their weapons with them—it would be so boring other wise—so very typical. No, he wanted this to be different. He wanted Crimson’s death to be special.
Seeing that she was completely asorbed in her prayers, he prepared himself. He stripped off his formal jacket to allow for freedom of movement and tossed it to the ground. Then, he removed his tie and pulled it tightly, testing the strength of the fabric. Finding it satisfactory, he turned towards her once more. She was getting to her feet. He would miss his chance. He had to act.
In an instant, he was behind her. She hadn’t even had time to turn around before the tie was wrapped tightly around her neck, with Dolosus holding either end.
“Good evening, Crimson,” he whispered into her ear, his voice like the purr of a cat, “fancy seeing you here at this hour.”
“W-who are you?” her voice cracked, and he could feel her trembling. These only added to the euphoria of his impending victory.
“You don’t recognize my voice?” he laughed, pulling her so that her back pressed against his chest, “well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Our encounters never were very… friendly.”
“Let me go!” she thrust her elbow out behind her, hoping to force him off. Because their bodies were so close, however, all that she accomplished was rubbing her arm against his stomach. He laughed, and the sound was almost sadistic.
“Now, Crimson, that’s not very nice.” He pulled on the tie, squeezing her neck just a little tighter, “my name is Dolosus. You and your little friends have brought me to hell and back. But then—you’ll be able to see what that’s like pretty soon. After a little fun for me, of course.” He pulled the tie tighter and she let out a little whimper. “Death by suffocation is quite interesting,” he went on, ignoring her struggling, “so messy though! The carcass spills out saliva and waste… it’s not very pretty, needless to say.” He laughed in childish delight, “you’ve got two or three minutes, at most…”

“Oh, holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear Saviors birth…”


Inside the church, a choir began to sing a slow, soothing melody. They sang Oh, Holy Night, and their beautiful refrains echoed around the two in the graveyard, hunter and prey. But Dolosus did not loosen his hold and Crimson was not calmed. She lashed out at him, flailing her limbs, hoping that in her blind struggle, a blow would connect and he would release her.
“It’s no use,” he said, grinning madly. Crimson jerked her head back with all the force she could muster. In a sort of backwards head-butt maneuver, she slammed the back of her head into his face. He cried out and let go for the shortest of instants, which was more than enough time for Crimson to pull free at last.
“Ugh… troublesome brat…” Dolosus grunted, whiping blood from his nose. She made no reply, but stood in place, bent over slightly, one hand clutching her neck, and the other on her knee to support her. She coughed up spit and a little blood, gasping for air. She looked about to throw up. He had to take this opportunity before she got away.

“Long lay the world in sin and error pining
‘Till he appear’d and the soul felt its worth..."

He ran at her, aiming a punch to her stomach. She recovered just in time and sidestepped him at the last second, then threw a punch which connected with his shoulder. His mind barely registered the blow. He swung around and backhanded her across the face, splitting her lip and dazing her temporarily. She shook her head and blocked a second punch, then threw a series of blows which were all blocked effortlessly. The next time she threw a punch, Dolosus caught it and held her fist, expecting to catch another blow from her free hand. It never came.
“Get away!” she roared, moving to the side and pulling him along with her. He lost his footing and fell onto his back in the snow. Crimson advanced quickly, but at exactly the right moment, he kicked up at her with both feet. He connected with her stomach, and she was sent flying, then skidding through the snow until she hit a gravestone. She groaned and slouched against the stone, hanging her head.

“A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn…”


In an instant, Dolosus stood before her. She tried to get up, but he knelt down over her, one knee resting on each of her wrists on either side of her so she couldn’t escape.
“What do you want from me?” she spat, rage etched into her every feature, “you’ve taken Kat, probably killed Altojo… what more can you take from me?”
“My revenge.” He replied simply. He took her by the neck, squeezing her as tightly as he could, his nails digging into her flesh. No playing around this time. She would die for escaping him twice. She would pay for his humiliation.
Time went by, and Dolosus watched somewhat impatiently as Crimson’s face turned from red, to purple, and began towards white. He knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Just a little bit more…
“Dolosus, you are a complete dolt.”
Something hard slammed into the back of his head. Stars exploded in his vision. He loosened his grip on Crimson once more. He swayed a bit, then fell back into the cold snow. He saw Demonic standing above him, her expression stern and her paintbrush in hand. Then, everything went black.
“Ma… master…”

Demonic looked down at her unconscious assassin, then at Crimson, gasping for air and struggling to get to her feet. Demonic took her hand and pulled her up.
“Are you alright? I apologize for my friend’s lack of manners. He can get carried away.” Crimson rubbed her eyes, blinked them a few times, then looked at the other woman curiously.
“Who… are you?” she asked, her voice still a little hoarse.
“Call me Demonic. I’m in charge of the organization that’s trying to kill you.” She said with a cute smile, “And I hope we will soon, but for tonight…” she picked up Dolosus by his arm, slinging him over her back like a rag doll, his feet still dragging in the snow, “I think I’ll let you go.”
“Oh… well… thank you.” Crimson muttered, unsure of what to say. With one last cheerful grin, Demonic left, dragging Dolosus along with her. Crimson watched them until they faded out of sight, then also left, feeling her wrists gingerly.
“Damn… I think he broke my wrist…” she sighed, then glanced back at the grave one last time before it was out of sight entirely.
“Dolosus… I wonder if he’s the one who did it…” she considered this, then decided that she couldn’t find out who had killed him with a broken wrist. If she was right, and it had been someone in the organization, then she would have to wait and heal. That was alright though. She could wait. She would avenge eventually.
And so, with these thoughts of vengeance in her mind, she left the graveyard, the church, and the fading choir behind.

“Oh, night divine…”

When Dolosus woke, he was back in his room at the organization. He didn’t get up, he didn’t look around, but he could tell that he was back in the only place that he was somewhat welcome. He sighed and closed his eyes.
He thought of that grave. Death was an everyday matter for all of the organization members. It didn’t bother him at all at this point. What bothered him was the state of the grave—old, uncared for, forgotten. Was he himself destined for such a death? Who would mourn at his passing? He pondered this, but could think of no one. That realization was like a slap in the face.
But then, that person wasn’t entirely forgotten, he thought, Crimson had come for them. That poor soul was more fortunate than I. I’ve never bothered with friendships or relationships, or people in general. I push people away, I never let them even close to knowing me. Could that mean that I’m… missing something? Now that was a thought and a half. He had never even considered such things before.
“Are you going to get up or what?”
Dolosus’ eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright. Demonic stood by his door, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, her eyes cold. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, then slid his feet over the edge of the bed so that he sat facing her. She took a few steps towards him, uncrossing her arms and placing a hand on her hip.
“Dolosus, I can honestly say that you have just done one of the dumbest things that I have ever witnessed.”
“Master, I don’t understand, I was getting rid of Crimson. I was obeying your orders, I-“
“What you did,” she interrupted, her voice carrying an overwhelming sense of authority, “was attack an unexpecting and unarmed victim on Christmas. That is something that I cannot accept. Why do you think I made it a point to ensure that no training or missions be scheduled for today?” Dolosus opened his mouth to speak, but she went on, “no bloodshed shall come from my organization on a sacred day. In addition, you don't know of my plans, and in taking matters into your own hands, you nearly jeopardized them. I need those three in my sights and alive.” He hung his head, speaking to Demonic’s feet.
“Master, I wasn’t aware…”
“Ignorance does not excuse idiocy.”
“I… yes, master.”
“Tomorrow, you will be confined to your room. You will not leave for anything, including meals. After then, your meals are limitted, and your training is doubled. In a week and a half, you will leave for Guatemala. The crow’s information is that Altojo is there. You will receive further details on the day of your departure. Understood?”
“Yes, master.”
“Good. I’ll take my leave of you, then.”
Dolosus got to his feet and bowed to her, and she turned and left, shutting the door behind her with a little more force than was needed. He sighed and fell back onto his bed.

“Master!”
“What the hell do you want now?” was Demonic’s response to the crows who had appeared in front of her on her way back to her room.
“We brought a gift for you.” The boy said, undaunted by her cold greeting.
“We thought you might like this.” The girl handed her a plain looking box, wrapped in green with shimmering silver ribbon. Demonic took it and stared at it in silence.
“No need to thank us now.”
“Just be sure to tell us what you think later.”
“Gotta go!”
“Ta-ta!”
She watched them go, one eyebrow raised slightly, her cold green eyes narrowed, then turned her gaze back to the gift in her hands.
“…I may have to kill them for whatever awaits me in this box.” She muttered, and began unwrapping. She opened the box and pulled out a small plushie. It was a boy, with brown hair, glasses and a scythe. It was Dolosus.
Her expression blank, she pulled a string on the back. A high pitched imitation of Dolosus’ voice sounded from the plushie.
“I love you!”
Demonic glared at it as if it were really the man whom it represented. For a few moments, she simply stood there in the hallway, glaring at the doll. Then, she placed it in a pocket in her robe and continued on to her room.
“Those two have cleaning duty this week.”



Owari.

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