[.Matthias. open] The S.h.a.d.o.w of Death

[.:Forgotten Hope:.]

What happens after Death? The boy fingered the sharp blade in his hand, running his fingers over it's smooth edge. Is Death even real? The blade looked rather tempting now. It could all end. What was the point of living? To die? Well, why not make it now?

Angling it so the sun caught on it's metal, Matthias stared at his reflection. His brown hair was a bit dusty from hiding in the abandoned warehouse. The rough metal machines had cut up his skin pretty bad, and scratches were visible from under the thin layer of grit over the freckles. The green eyes darted to the barred door of the warehouse; a rusty scringe had sounded from outside. Dashing to the back, he slipped behind a stack of crates, peering out from behind. The door creaked again, and then suddenly an explosion of wood chips and dust erupted from the shattered door frame.

Voices shouted from outside, and the boy took his chance to slip into a better place. He scaled to the top of the crates, sitting perched in the deep shadows at the top, watching. Waiting. Shadows flickered over the entrance, and four figures stalked in. Shouting to one another, they prodded the boxes, reading the labels. Matthias shifted his position again, sending grit cascading with a whoosh to the floor below. He paused, tense, as one of the men below looked up to the top. "I think someone's here," The robber whispered to the others beside him. "Someone get the lights,"

Suddenly there was a swift movement, and the robbers whirled around to see what caused it. Nothing but the cobwebs were able to be seen. The second man shuffled over to the lights, and then a muffled scream. The body went dead before it even hit the ground. The three remaining robbers scattered to the lights, and flipped the switch hastily. The slain body of their companion littered the floor, laying in a pool of his own blood. His throat was slitted neatly, the work of only a few seconds.

They glanced up at where the crates had hosted the fall of the grit, where they knew not, but the boy Matthias had been poised only a second ago. Nothing was there.

---

The robber glanced decidedly around them, the empty room suddenly seeming darker. The lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows about the warehouse. The setting sun cast a red glow in through the broken window frames, illuminating the dead corpse of the robbers' felled comrade. Their eyes shifted with fear, and at a silent signal, left the warehouse in a hurry.

The blade glinted in the rays of the setting sun, lighting it's smooth surface in the rafters. The boy clenched it between his teeth and swung down from the cieling supports where he had lain, hidden. He dropped to the ground with silent feet, taking the dagger from his mouth and slipping along the wall to a window. The broken glass crunched under his feet, and Matthias froze, glancing about him to be sure no one was there. After a while he moved again, stepping onto the window pane and vaulting over it's edge into the machine yard outside.

The boy sat down with a heavy sigh, tucking his knees up to his chest. The stars were just coming out, and the silver moon bathed the deserted yard in a filmy aura. The blade in the boy's hand was cold, but the handle was wrapped with a grip. Slowly turning it over in his hands, Matthias examined the only memory of his past, receding into the soft memories lit by a dying flame.

[Arietta&&June&&Alexander]

The skeletal-like girl named Arietta kicked a can into the desolate area she had began to call her second home, her first being the location of her job. Land of Dance Dance Revolution and PacMan; the Arcade.
She would usually wander here during her breaks, to blow off some steam or just see if she ran into anyone noteworthy.
Black jeans that clung tightly to her small frame that barely had any meat or muscle, but she could still somehow pull it off as amazing as it was, a white blouse for once covering up everything that needed to be. Some would call her a whore for her choice of clothing, but it never seemed to bother the eighteen year old.
So what if she was a swinger and 'got around'? It wasn't like she had them pay her. She just had to trust them. And maybe find an attraction. But she'd never allow loving emotions hinder with her need to be pleasured.
Her black high-heeled boots clapped against the concrete ground, occasionally stepping on something only to snap it.
For a while now, she had never actually seen the interior of the Warehouse, only the exterior. She knew something was going on but never wanted to find out. And, well. Now she was willing to actually look.
She was blind of any surroundings, too stupid to look and instead keeping her wits up as she rested her hand against the building before entering quietly, light blonde hair splashing about her pale face which was now crossed with a curious expression, large brown eyes wide before she stepped inside finally, not yet noticing the body.
"He-Hello?" she muttered, sighing before several scents filled her nostrils. Death. Dust. Grime. Mold and probably. Vomit.
That was when her boot tapped something soft. But stiff at the same time and she glanced down only to begin shuffling back, hand over her mouth, keeping the scream from escaping.
Then she began looking around frantically, eyes adjusting back to normal from panic mode. Her eyes settling on the male; he must've been the cause of this.
And that's when the scream escaped and she swallowed hard, small hands catching her only a tad of the way when she fell.
"What the hell!?" she screamed finally, hands clenched.
If she were to defend herself she'd most likely lose for she had no weapons beside her fingernails and high heel boots. But her state of shock delayed her usually swift and cocky thinking and hindered the thought that maybe she should--run?

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[.:Forgotten Hope:.]

A short gasp was all that was heard. The boy spun around, facing a pale complexion, fear riddled on her face. Matthias jumped back, wielding the short dagger like a sword. Glancing behind him, he peered through the dim light, seeking a method of escape incase needbe. But the girl didn't look to much to fear. But looks didn't judge everything. As he had learned, and experienced, in this city of lost dreams and forgotten hopes, there was danger at every corner, in every form.
But why not take the risk? Why not trust this girl? The boy silently snorted, and added 'Why not let her kill you? Why not show her you're easy to fool?'
Letting his guard down, the boy slowly lowered the shining metal blade, his legs braced and muscles tensed for any kind of attack.
Paranoid much. What if the girl was part of an ambush, just waiting for the chance to strike? The brown hair fell to his eyes, hiding them behind a veil. He was breathing heavily; from the surprise of her arrival, or another reason yet to be discovered? The air seemed tense, and energy seemed to radiate from his rather frail body. Well, lithe. Quick. Swift.
Matthias's eyes narrowed slightly and he lowered his small curved blade a bit more. Maybe communication was best?
"Didn't mean to scare you,"
The words were a bit rusty sounding, frok the fact that the boy had not spoken for a while yet. They sounded odd coming from his mouth, holding a slight tone of caution, curiosity, and fear.

[Arietta&&June&&Alexander]

She studied him, a frown plastered against her pale face.
She wanted to run. In fact, her body was sending messages to her brain to 'move', but the shock she found resting within her prevented such things. She could only hear two things within her.
Her heart beating rapidly at a quicker pace than it should have. And the word 'shit' being repeated within her thoughts. Swallowing hard, her shaky and bony hand made its way up to her blonde bangs to brush them from her face and get a better view.
Watching him lower the weapon made her feel more at ease and she began stepping back slowly, eyes opening and shutting in quick blinks several times before her breathing slowed to a more normal rate.
Her wide eyes then made their way to the floor as came her response.
"D.. D.. Did you kill him?" she stuttered, trying to let the words flow out of her mouth in a suave manner as if it didn't bother her.
But it did and her voice was shaky. She wanted to turn and run, but maybe he'd come after her. Seeing as she now knew who killed who.
Biting her bottom lip, she kept her gaze to the ground, muttering several things under her breath with closed eyes. Just hoping for the best.
"Y-y-you're not going to kill me.. Are you?" such a stupid question. But she needed to ask for her mind was racing at the speed of light now.

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[.:Forgotten Hope:.]

Did you kill him?[/b] The question was simple. Did you kill him? Matthias's breath came ragged through his throat, heart beating adrenaline through his pulsing body. It was simple; yes, he killed him. But words can have two meanings. Yes, I killed him, but no, I didn't mean to. Or didn't want to. Or had no choice but to.
Was there really a choice? The man had not harmed Matthias in any way, and if the boy had remained where he was, he would have never been found. But he could have, and alternatively, it could have been no choice at all.
"N--no, I'm not going to kill you," Matthias's voice trailed off, and he glanced sideways at the corpse littering the concrete floor. You killed him, The words were acusing in the young fifteen-year old's head.
The words swirled around him, thoughts tumbling around making accusations of the bewildered boy. I-I didn't mean to, he thought, but it was all right there, written in blood.

[Arietta&&June&&Alexander]

She still stood shakily. Staring at the floor.
Oh, did she feel ever so sick.
"Th-they always say that. Then they k-kill the person." she began stepping back towards the door.
A simple test, usually if someone tried to run, the killer would well. Kill. Otherwise, they'd just stand there.
"How do I know I can believe you?" She was so stupid and gullible.
But would you be able to think if you were afraid?
"Because you don't seem trustable!" she shouted, pointing at him, still afraid.

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[.:Forgotten Hope:.]

Matthias's eyes seemed not to take in the girl before him. Instead he leaned back against a support pole and slid to the floor, clutching his head in his hands. His pipils lost focus and a silent tear ran down his cheek.
"Y-y-you can't trust me," he stammered.
He had killed the man. Why? Was it really him? Was there another reason? Nothing made sense anymore.
"No. I'm not going to kill you," he said, more to reassure himself than the girl before him.
Was he? The fifteen year old didn't think so, but that was also what he had thought before the robber's head hit the ground. He dropped the small dagger at his feet and tucked his knees to his chin, grasping them tightly until his knuckles turned white. Shaking, he managed to say,
"You probably shouldn't stay,"
Then he broke down and began to cry. The tears streamed down his face, drenching him. It had all gone wrong. Why couldn't he just have gone with his father? He could have done anything else. Why hadn't he stayed with the orphanage to help rebuild? Death. That was why. Death still held the memories close. His lean frame shook, and he covered his face with his hands, not wanting to be seen so weak.

[Arietta&&June&&Alexander]

He was being honest. She tilted her head to the side, still scared as ever. But trying to push that aside. Something was obviously wrong.
I mean, who in their right mind would rat themselves out and say 'you can't trust me' if they were planning on killing the other person?
She wasn't saying she trusted him. She didn't. She just thought maybe he wasn't in the shape or mood to attack so suddenly.
"Good." she said, trying to calm him down and pretend she trusted him. Even though it wouldn't work. It wouldn't be believed. Someone trusting another they had just met after that other person killed someone.

Then she stared at him. He was crying. And it clicked. Maybe she should try and comfort him, as much as she hated men. Yes, she disliked them as surprising as it sounded. But it really didn't bother her.
"Hey. Hey. Calm down. We all have our problems." she began. Oh great. She was probably sounding like Barney or something.
"Like me. I have a real big problem. I in fact hate talking about it." she said, rolling her eyes, "Because people judge me, then hate me for it." she began walking over and patted him on the back.
Great. If she knew any better, he was probably faking this and would grab the knife, then stab her.

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[.:Forgotten Hope:.]

The girl tried again. Sliding up to him, she patted him on the back, murmuring words that held kindness, though their meaning was lost to him. He flinched as she touched him, but didn't shy away. He sniffed again ans turned to look at her. "Because people judge me, then hate me for it"

"I won't judge you," he mananged to say, voice shaky. "you've probably already judged me, but we can make a new start," his tearfilled eyes lost their focus for a moment, then he added, "I've started over again 16 times,"

[Arietta&&June&&Alexander]

Sixteen?
She thought, trying to make up what he meant. But didn't ask. At least not until she explained exactly what her problem was.
"If you think you won't judge me, fine. Otherwise. Yeah." she shrugged, then took a deep breath, looking to the side, "It started a while back. Like. Four years ago. You see, I had this... Horndog of a man, to put it simply." she put her hand to her chin, and thought, biting her lip.
Oh, how she hated telling this story. It made her hate herself.
"So. Yes. We did things here. And there. But it was because I loved him and didn't want to lose him to some other tramp. But after a while it became tiring. And I told him no. And he forced me. Then left me the next day. HA! How convenient." she muttered, not daring to look at him, but at the ground, "And. So. I find the only thing any guy wants. Is. Sex." she shrugged, "So I never try and get into a commitment because in the end all there is.. Is... Nothing but complete darkness. And plus. One in two marriages fail. So why try?" she lived on the belief that there was no way to love another person to the extent you'd DIE for them. It wouldn't make sense.
Because in the first place you'd be killing the other inside if they loved you that madly.
"Now. What did you mean by starting over sixteen times?" she asked curiously.

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