I wrote this up when I was supposed to be paying attention....but honestly, why would I care about the "Rule of 72"? Not only does finance completely uninterest me, but come on, I'm barely fourteen.
...um. Anyway. Use your imagination on where she is and why...I kinda wrote this in forty-five minutes, give or take some editing.
Lastly, I know it immediately gets into action, with very little, unsatisfying suspense, but like I said. Had one period.
Well here, Lady Gwendolyn's last adventure: "Closure"
Suddenly, with a cry, a dark clone of herself came rushing at her from the shadows. It was unique from her only in the respect of white irises and no Knight symbol in her hair. Their katanas connected with a crash, the real girl in defensive mode, the carbon copy in offensive.
Gwendolyn suddenly whipped around, ran at the wall, and flipped her weight over the clone. While it regained itself, she slashed viciously at its torso. Silver substance came out of the gashes.
It pulled itself together and started turning moves around on the Knight. Whenever she’d go left, the clone would already be right. When she was up, there it was too. Over and over she tried to get the upper-hand, and over and over she had to revert to defensive mode.
“Give it up, weakling,” hissed the clone in a voice reminiscent to that of her opponent’s snake. “I know your every move before you think it. I know your every feeling before you feel it.”
Their blades clashed in rhythm as the Knight concerned herself with the words of the other.
“Every single emotion you ever had was programmed into me. The only difference between you and I is I’m able to control it.”
Gwendolyn laughed sarcastically. “Control? What do you know about control? You’re controlled by the darkest being in Neutronia. You wouldn’t know power if it hit you upside the head…like this.”
With that, she grabbed the helm with both hands and smacked the flat end of the blade against the copy’s head. It flew towards the wall and the room shook upon impact.
“You feisty little bitch.”
Spitting substance out of its mouth, the clone bolted towards the Knight, who promptly took out a pistol and shot it in the forehead. Silver goo exploded out and it crumpled on the floor.
“See, that was not my move,” she said to the puddle. “That was courtesy of our very own pirate queen, Mara Ess.”
Suddenly, a click sounded by her ear and she felt the cold metal rim of an old-fashioned Walther pressed into her temple.
“This gun…” A deep voice from behind her sounded expectedly. “…Came from your birth year. An automatic…one of the last in this world.” He sighed contentedly. “Sure packs a punch. One of my personal favorites, but I’ve only shot it once.”
Gwendolyn’s eyes narrowed.
“Yeah. I know you recognize it. The gun that for five years has haunted you, has totally turned your life around. And frankly, by an honest mistake.”
The man finally walked in front of the Knight and showed his face. Her stomach dropped, her brain whirred, and her heart pounded as recognition flooded her again. “Jeremy.”
“Heya.” He smiled his crooked grin and Gwendolyn felt her face get hot. This man used to be Kate’s lover. Until jealousy drove him completely insane.
“What happened?” she asked, not really paying attention, and just stalling temporarily for an exit strategy. Her mood dampened when she felt the cold hands of a clone wrench her sword away and pull her arms behind her.
“Well, I meant to kill Lance. Y’know, yea high, blonde hair, silver wedding band on his second to last finger…” Jeremy’s smile dropped bitterly. “But Katherine got in my way. I never would have killed her, you know. But it was her fault for moving—“
The Knight’s attention peaked and she spit in his face. “Or your fault for bad aim.”
Jeremy rubbed the saliva off his eye with his free hand. “…You look a lot like her, you realize. Warm eyes…soft hands…”
The gun moved from her temple to under her chin. “A strong jaw…full lips…”
Again the gun moved inside her mouth. His finger tensed and the Knight could taste the rust and adrenaline on the barrel. She looked quickly into his grey eyes. They reflected signs of fear, but mostly hate. But there was something else…something dangerous. When she saw it her features froze as she put every ounce of power she had into her brain for planning.
“And well,” he said, turning the gun slightly upwards. Gwendolyn’s eyes widened and she knew instantly that there was no way out. “It gets boring to look at.”
Pain suddenly exploded in her mouth and then all went black.
Jeremy plucked the white atom out of her hair as she crumpled. He satisfactorily placed it in his pants pocket and snapped towards the clone to follow him out.
~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~[*]~
Shorti walked into the common room. It was stark empty save for a dead snake’s skin on the floor. She felt a pang in her chest while picking it up and placing it in the incinerator.
Sighing, the Neutron Knight sat in an arm chair and placed her head in her hands. Memories she was desperate to hold on to seemed dull and hard to grasp. She tried to think of the Back to Basics party. Lady Gwendolyn had dressed up—or down, in this case—a servant as the Chosen One, given him a black bar and had paraded him around. She smiled slightly, remembering her justification for the event.
”I did it for the lulz…”
“I do everything for the lulz, don’t I?”
Shorti jolted up out of her trance. “Who’s there?”
“Hi!”
The Knight shrieked and flew backwards as a face appeared out of nothingness. After a few seconds, she realized the sight in front of her.
“Gwen!” she cried, trying to fling forwards for a hug. The other Knight held out her hand in hindrance.
“Nah, not ‘Gwen’ anymore. I’ve got a new name, but you’re not allowed to know it. Listen, I’m not technically here. Er, I mean, my body’s still wherever the heck Jeremy left it.”
Shorti seemed to notice for the first time that her friend was cross-legged, floating two feet off the floor.
“W-what are you?”
“Me? Oh, an apparition…ghosty thing. A projection of myself from the next life…what have you.” She held out her hand which glowed an incandescent purple briefly. “See? Try to touch me.”
Shorti ran her fingers through the hand, causing it to separate into particles.
“Why purple?” she asked.
“It’s my aura color. It’s like, the outer part of your soul. Everyone has one, but only a few can see it. The reason you can see mine is because I’m using it to make this projection.” The body faded slightly then came back into focus. “…Still not too good at it.”
Drawing back in her hand, the former Knight’s face grew solemn. “Listen, I need you to deliver a message for me. Tell the castle that I’m not gone. If they truly need me, I’ll sense it and come…but I can’t be all willy-nilly or whatever. I have duties in my next life to attend to.”
Gwendolyn's words faded and silence proceeded. She laughed to herself, looking around the room. “I barely recognize the place and I’ve been gone what…”
The two friends answered at the same time. “A month.”
“Right.” The spirit smiled again and held the side of her comrade’s face. Even though there was nothing really there, Shorti swore she felt some warmth in her cheek. “I hope…no, I pray that eventually you’ll all get to a place when you’ll forget my gorgeous smile and dazzling personality. You’ll all have peace hopefully because you know I’ll see you again…however long the wait, it’ll be worth it. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, after all.” Her kindhearted smile was replaced with a mischievous grin. “That’s why I preferred Mistress April, the Warrior, of course, over Madame Cynthia.”
“Gwen…” said Shorti, slightly unsure of how to address her, but knowing by her friend’s rambling their time was up. “…We miss you.”
“Well, don’t.” The ghost winked. “I’ll see you around.” The projection imploded into a purple light.
The Knight left looked around the room and wiped her eyes. “Well, at least now I know it was really you. You left a mess behind.”
She shook her head at the purple stain on the floor.
.:!Gwen!:.
