19:BRIDE_OF_MAN_FOREVERMORE

The whole world was engulfed in the white. A blistering darkness which ripped through. It was hot— and sickening. A scream tore through, but everything was eviscerated. They were eviscerated. No final thoughts or goodbyes. Except, when it was over, Adelaide's eyes opened once again, and she was still standing as she had been before.

She looked around wildly, and saw Rainmaker, also intact.

The afterlife? she wondered, in disbelief. But that wasn't what this place was. She glanced around, and saw Jisako. She blinked, and that hope was dashed. The thing she was seeing: the demon. It was the same as ever. As the haze cleared, she felt sick. A violent nausea tore through her, and ran up her throat. She tried to hold it in, but she just couldn't manage, and fell to the ground, heaving up what little was in her belly.

She realized then that she wasn't anywhere near the end. Adelaide looked up in disbelief, turning her gaze away from her own filth. "How did… How did we survive?" she wondered, utterly dumbfounded. And then— as she looked again at the demon queen who had once been her bride at the altar, standing now before the rising sun, opening a portal to hell.

The demon had protected them for some reason, but there was a much worse thing at stake now. The exact thing they'd wanted to die preventing as exorcists. Hell on Earth was coming.

The gateway was constructing. Made of stone bits which flew up from the debris around them, and constructed a thing like an altar. A thing halfway complete. In it, the fuzzy image of Hell reflected. Right now, pure blur. But Adelaide had a sense that she didn't want to see it in full. That the only thing that would occur if that gateway was completed— was something horrible.

She looked at Rainmaker, who had been thrown to the ground, and scratched up, but otherwise unharmed because of the demon's protections. She looked from the unharmed boy to the portal to hell and at the thing which had once been her wife. The pride and joy of her life. The thing that had become of the one she always returned home to. And even with all the wisdoms she thought she'd gained through her life— she could not understand.

"...Why?"

"Where do you think we came from, Adelaide?" The demon finally spoke. It didn't speak with Jisako's voice. "The gateway was opened when the first of the warheads were dropped." It walked closer, bringing its ugly, gnarled hands to cup Adelaide's face, in some twisted affection. The demon leaned in once again, as though to kiss her.

Adelaide put her hand between their lips, refusing again. She wanted her bride in her arms— but not like this. The demon sighed, before finally moving back. "Fine then. I suppose it was always in your nature to be overly stubborn and faithless." The demon stepped back toward the gate. "You've given me the fuel I needed."

Adelaide twitched. "No…"

Rainmaker rushed to her side, and reached toward the cross, to ward off the thing that had become of the woman in front of them. The demon only pulled back the slightest bit. "We gave you nothing," he said, attempting to sound strong and defiant. But it wasn't in his personality to have any will of his own. He was a man who was damned to be imposed on.

The demon laughed. "You've given me everything. Your fear, and this Armageddon wrought by mankind— and now, the morningstar rises."

Adelaide's chest tightened. "Jisako…"

"Do you honestly think Jisako wanted you dead?" the demon asked, almost mocking in its tone. "Do you really think you could ever make it up to her by dying? How stupid."

"...Stop it," Rainmaker attempted to assert, weakly.

"The both of you made me. Corrupting the memory of a woman who it seems neither of you knew well, since I can't imagine the real her being quite like me," the demon said. "All you think about is her as an artist. As glory and artistry and greatness," the thing pointed out. "Did she paint for you?" it mocked.

"You're not her?" Adelaide asked, her voice cracking. She couldn't focus on a single thing.

"I'm a corruption of her. Nothing less, nothing more. You let a demon possess her memory and… The product is before you now," the thing replied, so utterly smug in its words.

"Then why protect us?" Adelaide begged, seeking for even the slightest hope that her wife was in there somewhere. That she'd been watching over them. Anything to tell herself that Jisako hadn't just been lost to them completely.

The creature didn't answer, just smiling. It turned away from her, and looked at Rainmaker. "And, what a pathetic little boy you are. Just about anyone could browbeat you into doing just about anything if they," the demon began to raise its voice, "-screamed at you like this!"

Rainmaker stumbled back, clearly frightened by the shout. "I—"

"I mean, really, why else would you decapitate an innocent girl, other than being weak, piddling, and useless?" the creature asked, with almost a laugh at his expense. The creature leaned forward, grinning at him. "Or were you just a sadist? I mean, what kind of innocent man comes up with the idea of cutting off a woman's head?" The creature laughed. "And for all the work— in the end, you're still just Kiro Moytoy," it sang.

Rainmaker winced at first, but his brow furrowed. "Kiro?"

"It's your name. Don't tell me you've forgotten," it answered, with a mocking laugh.

Adelaide perked up, and after a moment, she realized what Rainmaker was thinking. The details were off. And grasping that last straw of hope, she looked at the demon. A liar wearing the skin of the person they wronged as a way to toy with them. She staggered back. "Kirno."

Rainmaker grimaced. "Yes," he answered. "And…"

Adelaide turned to the demon, and charged forward, throwing all the weight she had into a punch. She struck its face with her fist, glowering at it. "You're a fool! I refuse your call to the dark!" she shouted.

The thing let out an animalistic roar, which made her stumble back. It held its face, dented. It reformed easily. Adelaide refused to pull away or pull back. "Jisako!" she called out. "Jisako! If everything this thing is is a lie— then please, come to me!" she called out. "Let me call on you, give strength to the chain around my neck and to anything— to this gun anything!" she called out.

The demon licked the blood from its hand, walking over slowly, and slapping her. It only took a single slap to throw her to the ground. Rainmaker jumped on it, striking at it with his own fists— but it did nothing. The creature tossed him aside too. Adelaide struggled to her knees, the side of her face burning with a horrible fracture. She tossed the empty chain at the demon.

Adelaide cursed, grabbing Rainmaker's arm. "Run!" she commanded, and the pair of them darted away from the thing, trying to run out into the rubble. It squirmed forward, losing all humanity, and transforming into a massive centipede of human limbs, accelerating.

The woman took a shot at the creature as they ran. It roared again, and the pair of them continued the running. The creature ran under the rubble, diving through, and jumping out on the other side, emerging from the Earth in front of them. The creature jumped toward them again.

Adelaide ducked down, and took another shot at its eyes. Its mandibles closed and bit down on her, breaking her collarbone. She let out a scream. She dropped the gun. Rainmaker ran over, grabbing the thing, and taking a shot at the creature, despite his shaking hands.

The creature shrieked, and pulled away. Adelaide writhed on the ground, grabbing at her shoulder, unable to even tell what was broken, as everything hurt. She struggled up, and ripped the cross from her neck, cutting her own skin open, which blew in strange flaps in the wind. She jumped to her feet, stabbing the creature with her cross.

The hanging man burned into it. The creature shrieked again. The gateway grew larger behind it, the image clearer. Adelaide yanked out the cross, and lunged to impale it in its eyes. She grasped the chain, and began muttering lies. It burned. They both burned.

"Move!" Rainmaker shouted. Adelaide jumped back. Rainmaker took another shot at it. The creature fell to the ground. The pair of them looked at each other. "That was the last bullet," he said.

Adelaide smiled at him. "I think— I think you've done it," she gasped out.

But she was wrong.

The demon jumped up again, and wrapped itself around Rainmaker. The gun fell from his hand, but it didn't matter anyway. Adelaide grabbed it. Her cross was still embedded in the thing. She struck it with the gun, holding it like a bludgeon. The creature tightened itself around Rainmaker.

She attempted to stab the barrel into its eyes. It thrashed violently. It tossed Rainmaker to the side, throwing him to the ground on his back. His head hit the ground with a thump. The creature turned its gaze on her again, and lunged. It was a bit slower now. Adelaide hit it, pushing its head away and glancing at the world— the gate was still growing.

Adelaide scrambled away from it. "To the gate!" she shouted, and Rainmaker, despite bleeding, nodded to her and ran. The creature was split between them, Adelaide charged off to the side. Somewhere off the road. The creature gave up and pursued Rainmaker— who was slowing. Adelaide threw the gun at its back, and it stumbled for a moment, allowing him to get ahead.

Adelaide rushed forward herself, throwing herself forward, rushing through the rubble again.

The pair of them ran— and Adelaide began to outpace the demon. She passed Rainmaker, and as their eyes met for a moment, she gave him a look. He nodded to her, before slowing down. The creature jumped toward him at first— but realized it had been baited. The thing tried to turn its attention toward Adelaide. She threw herself toward the gateway, slamming her broken shoulder into the concrete. The creature jumped toward her, only to bring more cracks into its own structure.

Adelaide smiled faintly at it, despite the pain that shot through her. "You're breaking your own gate," she mocked, before ducking down. The image grew fuzzier, and the construction stopped. Adelaide stepped backward, standing in the image. It was like water around her. Painfully cold water.

The demon didn't dare enter it, for fear of being pulled back to Hell. Adelaide turned her head up toward the sky. "My bride, beauty on the highest power, you have seen my desperation, my desire to surrender myself onto the penitent engine I created for myself— but if you may hear my cry, aid me in banishing the demon brought forth by the fear I have created for myself in you!"

The burns, shaped like crosses in her skin, themselves began to bleed and clump. And a thing formed of flesh. A cross of flesh, which hung by a thin flap of skin from her arm. Adelaide ripped it from her arm, held it up, and her scream engulfed all in white once again.

It rang in her ear. And the soreness was about all she could feel. Without form, without thought, and without identity. Not a breath, not a thing. Why she had found herself where she was, she had no idea. A place with no landscape, and no forms among it. Her eyes came into focus again.

Dirt. She had been thrown to the ground. And weight on her back— rubble from the gateway. The woman raised her head slowly. She hissed in pain, and looked up.

And for the first time, she saw Jisako.

She was tinted mist. A bit blue, even. And she was as they'd last seen each other. Adelaide struggled to push herself up, the extra weight on her back. Rainmaker hurried over, calling her name in the wasteland. "Adelaide!"

"Here," she answered, falling back toward the ground.

He pulled the rubble from her, and pulled her up. Adelaide sat among the debris for a moment, before finally being able to push her legs enough to stand. Everything hurt. She looked again, to confirm she had actually seen Jisako. Rainmaker followed her gaze, and his brows jumped up. He stepped backward.

"She won't hurt you," Adelaide said, reaching forward. "Jisako…" she repeated, smiling, eyes welling. And for the first time, she let the tears fall.

The ghost looked a bit nervous. Uncomfortable. The way Jisako had always acted when alive. And Adleaide felt some haze clear from her mind. She could finally see her wife as she was. Big eyed, greasy haired, and infinitely, truly, the love of her life. Finally, the ghost let out a shriek, and burst into tears herself.

Horrible, violent tears, tormented by a lifetime cut short and a death spent watching her love wander toward death. A pain she couldn't fight, even with all the ways Adelaide had wronged her. Adelaide stared, before throwing herself at the faded feet of her wife.

The words that left her were messy. They were apologetic— painful but real. Real apologies, which burned her throat, because she had spoken them so rarely before and because the air itself was poisoned. Apologies for every harsh word, every lie, every shout, until she ran out of words. Though she wasn't entirely sure that all of the words were understandable. The ghost could not stop her tears.

She stared on, her hands reaching out, but being too nervous to touch. "Adelaide…"

Adelaide's head immediately rose up. There was dirt on her forehead and in her hair. She'd been pressing it so harshly into the ground as she spoke. "Jisako," she returned.

"...Please live…" Jisako's manner was quiet. Barely audible. Adelaide strained, craning her head upward, for the sake of hearing just a little better. Jisako's eyes widened, still wet with their tears. "I…" The ghost looked at Rainmaker. She couldn't hide her nervousness and fear around him. He'd been there. And he frightened her. Still… "I… I don't want anyone to die in my name. Anyone."

Jisako reached out, to try and hold Adelaide— but her hands passed through. Adelaide shivered, as a primal cold was instilled, chilling her down to her very soul. There were some things she could never have. "There are… ships, aren't there?" Jisako asked. "Can't we walk to one?"

"Sent by… Yes, Forrest sent one, to drop the nuke."

"Oh… Forrest… I remember. He was your friend…" Jisako grew quiet for a moment, contemplating her next words with the precision required only by diplomats and holymen.

"You can keep a promise this time," Jisako said, with a nervousness to her that felt almost childlike.

Adelaide smiled. "I can," she answered.

"Let's walk there then. We can… see space. I can show you the last song I wrote, too."

"Of course," Adelaide answered.

She glanced off, to peek into the skyline, for any signs of starships. She spotted not a single one. But the faint sound of a roaring engine in the distance called to her, and she hesitated to speak pessimism. She hesitated, before answering. "It should be around here somewhere. Let's get going, it's probably upwind."

"Alright. I'll follow you and go upwind," was the quiet answer which came to her.

As the sun took its place, and the dark of dawn turned to true daybreak, they willed themselves to find a way to keep living on.

END.