This one had two titles...so...yeah. Enjoy! (Yay, Shakespeare. Excuse me while I go shake a spear.) Chapter 4: Maid Service/ So Wise So Young Xemnas turns to face us, his red eyes gazing at us intently. He doesn't look like he was doing anything out of the ordinary, but the fact that he was waiting for us when we arrived was somewhat suspicious. Xigbar and I exchange a look, but are distracted when the Superior points at the blond-haired musician, whose arms are looped over our shoulders so we can support his weight. "What's wrong with him?" He asks us, his voice deep and menacing despite the obvious concern he has for his fellow member. I guess that's the way it's always been with Xemnas...he sounds the exact opposite of what he really is: a protector for the Nobodies who have chosen to follow his lead. "He got his feelings hurt." Xigbar explains, and I emphasize his point with a nod of my head. Xemnas appears to understand who was the one that hurt his feelings, and sighs loudly. "If you're looking for Elizabeth, I'm afraid that she left for Larxene's room only a few minutes ago." "Why did you let her out?" I demand, my temper flaring a little. "She's a danger to all of us!" "Well, I admit that she's not exactly the nicest person to be around...but on the other hand, we have far too much work to be done around here for her to sit in here and do nothing. I assigned her the job of doing...whatever it is she is told to do. Cleaning, mostly." "A maid?" Demyx mumbles incredulously, shaking his head. "You've got to be kidding me." "You know that I don't kid, Demyx." Xemnas says, more serious this time. "She'll earn her keep." "Yeah, or put poison in our food and scorpions in my bed!" Demyx whines, pushing both Xigbar and I away and striding confidently over to Xemnas. "Honestly, if you're going to let that girl roam around, I'm out." We both suck in our breath. Such a bold, bold statement for a man who usually keeps to himself... "Number IX..." Xemnas warns, narrowing his eyes slightly. Demyx stops walking and his eyes widen to a nearly-impossible width. "I'm warning you. Do not...do not step out of line." He turns to us now, eyes flashing, his command coming out in a bizarre hiss. "And you two...if I hear anything about you trying to hurt Elizabeth, you will have me to answer to." And with that, our leader left us to our inspection of the atrium. "Harsh." Xigbar comments after a moment, his eyes still fixed on the spot Xemnas had been standing at a moment ago. Demyx, still petrified, is shaking his head slowly, again and again. I watch him warily. "Even if we can't kill her, we still have to talk to her." I point out. "Xemnas didn't say anything about that." Demyx groans, and I can't figure out if it's because he's still shaky about getting yelled at or if he's not eager to see Elizabeth. "True, true." Xigbar agrees. "But it's getting late." "Late!" I want to scream and yell and shake him around like paper in the wind, but I don't. "You'd rather go to bed than teach that brat a lesson?" "We can, tomorrow. You just got back, though, and I don't think it's in your best interest to act rashly and cause too much trouble in your first day back. Look at you! You're tired, even if you don't want to admit it. Go to bed, get some rest, and we'll take care of everything tomorrow." "I agree." Demyx says, shuffling out of the atrium. He's headed for his own, soft bed. I turn to tell Xigbar good night before I realize that I'm alone now, a single dark figure in a white room that was steadily growing darker with the setting of the artificial sun Vexen had rigged the atrium with. Very well, then. I head off to my room. Twenty minutes later, I was crawling under the covers of my bed, still thinking about The Superior's words. What did he mean to accomplish by protecting Elizabeth, a pathetic and worthless human? I wasn't sure, but I sure of one thing...I would find out. I wouldn't rest until I did. Some are born great some achieve greatness and others have greatness thrust upon them Pah! This is not greatness. The only thing that has been thrust upon me is the work that the Organization's leader is forcing me to do. This work, usually so simple, has lead me into certain death: the room of Larxene, the sadistic Savage Nymph. I had gone into her rooms to clean, and I emerged three hours later after spending most of my time helping her bandage herself up. It appeared that she had gotten into a fight with a man named Marluxia, who she explained was the wickedest of the Organization members. When I told her that she was surely mistaken (because the wickedest was Zexion, not Marluxia) she only laughed and told me about how Zexion was simply "dah-ling.") So I left in what would be considered quite late back in my world, which meant that I was more than tired. The nap I had taken back in the lab felt years ago. I was heading back to the atrium, Larxene's hand-drawn Castle Map in hand, when I had a brilliant idea. Ten minutes later, I was seated on the floor of the atrium, papers and supplies strewn about the floor. Every few moments, I would mark the map with a dot of ink, indicating the different locations I would need to be at by certain times. Larxene hadn't realized just how valuable all the information she had given me really was. My plan was simple: I would grab a knife from the kitchen, which was located about three minutes away from this atrium at a brisk walks pace. With the knife I would travel to Betwixt and Between, where I would wait until Xaldin would walk by during his usual night's stroll. I would continue into Proof of Existence from there, where I would meet the name panel of each Organization Member. Zexion's was the first plate on the second row to the right. Once in Zexion's room, I would have to be careful not to alert him of my presence According to Larxene, he was in bed and asleep by 10:30 generally, and was a heavy sleeper. However, the only part of him that didn't sleep was his nose, which was constantly sniffing for danger. I'd wing it from there. I grabbed my map (the only thing I had in my possession at present that would help me tonight) and walked quietly down the hallway to the kitchen. The knives were kept in a holder near the chopping block, so I grabbed a thin, sharp one and strode from the room. Just before leaving, though, I checked the clock. 11:43. My walk to Betwixt and Between knocked another five minutes off my time to complete my task, but I wasn't the least bit worried. If Xaldin had already passed by and might happen to catch me, I had the knife tucked into the carpenter's pocket of my jeans. I was armed. But as I arrived in the room that was my next destination, I realized that I wasn't late at all. Xaldin's voice echoed off the cold walls as he made his way downstairs, humming as he went. I hid in a corner and slipped out of the room as soon as he disappeared, heading up to Proof of Existence. As soon as I entered the smallest room of the large castle, I was forced to pause and examine my options. I could follow my heart into the sleeping Nobody's chamber, do what I had come here to do, and get it over with...or I could turn around and bide my time...or just forget this ridiculous plan, forget my anger, and forget my need for revenge. The last option was out of the question. Zexion was going to get what was coming to him, eventually...and why not now, when I was so unbelievably close to getting my sweet revenge? It was too perfect to ignore. I had to do it now. I was surprised at how boldly I walked to the nameplate that I had plotted arriving at some twenty minutes ago. The Cloaked Schemer. Ha. Very funny. He won't need a silly little nickname when I' done with him! I step through the gateway, holding my breath. ...Which I really didn't need to have done. Zexion was sleeping like a baby, his face buried into his black pillow and his soft hair spread around him like a silvery-blue halo. His nose twitches as I enter the room, but he doesn't wake up. I pause for a moment to relax my breathing before walking on my toes to his bedside. Another twitch. Calm down, Liz. Calm down...this'll be easy, just you see. You've got a knife, and he's defenseless. ...Except for his POWERS! I wince at my own mental scream. Zexion, naturally, doesn't notice. He mumbles something about 'smelling like caramel' and rolls over so I can see more of his pale neck. Brilliant! Oh crap... My arm turns to ice as I look down. I think I stopped breathing. Zexion (or *****y boy, I forgot) has his nose pressed into my arm, still fast asleep. "Caramel" He mutters again, dreamily cuddling my arm. I curse his family and all of his ancestors and pull away. He sighs, resigned, and hugs his pillow. He'd be cute if he wasn't so terrifying. I reach for the knife, which is still in my carpenter's pocket. I take a moment to examine the instrument with which I would make Elizabeth-history, which really wasn't all that impressive. It was just a vegetable knife, thin but sharp all the same. Generic kitchen variety. Nothing special about the thing at all. Not yet, anyways. I hold it up to the light for dramatic effect (to please none other than myself) and let it drop to the floor. Not intentionally, of course. No, no, I dropped it because my hands were shaking...and who in their right mind would reach out and grab a falling knife? My eyes dart up to check on Zexion. His nose twitches, but nothing else. I grab the knife and step closer. It would be over seconds from now...so perfectly easy. Yet he was so perfectly perfect, too. Sure, he was fearsome and scary during the day, but as soon as he went to sleep...he became a perfect, (yet imperfect) heartless angel. Shut up. I tell myself. He needs to die. "So wise so young, they say do never live long." I whisper quietly, holding the knife a quarter-inch away from Zexion's neck. Shakespeare makes everything wonderful, even moments of hesitant murder from an angered prisoner to her helpless captor. I grin mischievously, close my eyes, and bring the knife down.
