Broken and Beaten

Chapter 3: Her Story

Marinette didn't know what was going on. She knew that her body was moving, but she had no control. She saw everything going on around her, and yet could do nothing to stop it. It were as though she were a puppet, a marionette if you will, being controlled by an unknown force. 

Her hand would make a flick of the wrist and bam, there was an explosion. Her head would tilt and whoosh, a building could crumble away like ash. She would shed a single tear, her most powerful weapon, and a crater the width of a metro station would crack into the streets of Paris, often times with people still in their cars attempting to escape, but instead crashing and becoming balls of flames. 

The last thing she had remembered doing was holding the yellow rose she saved from Chat before they had left to go to New York. The rose that he said was the color of friendship, a symbol that theirs' would never break. A promise she had thought he would keep. That was until he disappeared without a trace.

That same rose, she realized, was still in her left hand, but now it was a dark, almost black, shade of purple. The petals were more wilted, which should have been impossible seeing as how it was a "Forever Rose." The dark purple color dripped off the petals like rain, leaving small fires in their wake.

That's when it dawned on Marinette. She had been akumatized by Hawkmoth. 

Her heart screamed at her to break free of the akuma, but her body and mind said otherwise. "He left you with no explaination," "Chat Noir also left you with no goodbye," "They both hated you so much they ran away," "You'll never be good enough for Adrien, not even good enough for Luka," "You'll never be truly loved by anyone you pathetic shit."

"Stop it," she thought helplessly. "Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT!" She wanted to scream, to cry, to be held, but the puppeteer had other plans for her.

"Princess Justice, you must get revenge on the man who broke your heart. The damn cat who said he would stay by you always. They don't deserve your love and friendship. They don't deserve anything you offer them. They don't deserve you," a deep male voice echoed in her ear. 

"How did you know that Chat Noir promised to stay beside me? Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?" she cried out in her mind. 

"Oh Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I've had my eye on you for a long time. I've felt your negative emotions constantly. I've felt your depression and anxiety since the day I became Hawkmoth. Those emotions have only grown stronger over the years. I knew you would be my greatest creation and I was right. Once I felt your heartbreak from hearing of your "secret love" leaving Paris, I knew it was the correct moment to strike. My only question, why have Chat Noir and Ladybug not come to save someone they seem very close with? I've seen Chat Noir climb your balcony and sit with you for hours on end. I saw Ladybug retrieve the Mouse Miraculous from you when battling Kwami Buster. If they truly were your friends, they should have captured your akuma or at least tried to by now. Do they really care about you or have they abandoned you AND the city of Paris in your most dire hour of need?"

He was right, Chat Noir hadn't come to save her. She knew why Ladybug was out of commission since Marinette was currently akumatized, but Chat should have been there. He should have broken the object in maybe just a few hours and a couple cataclysms later. Where was her knight in shining black? Her best friend in costume and occasionally out? Where was her kitty?

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"Plagg..." Adrien gaped, "Do you see this?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do kid..."

Adrien, still in shock by the collapsed Paris around him, just barely dodged one of the drops coming from Princess Justice's rose. He leapt to his left mere milliseconds away from having his leg catch fire.

"What the hell was that?!" he screamed as he looked up into the sky. Above him he saw a young woman about his age with midnight blue hair curled and falling to the middle of her back. Her body was covered by an early 1900s gown, normally worn by royalty. The sleeves her off the shoulder but long, as if they had their own miniature capes attached made out of black silk. The bodice was a dark purple matching the rose clutched in the young woman's left hand with black embroidery stitched within. He could make out a very subtle balancing scale, one side dipped much lower that the other. Her skirt had a train that moved like water behind her in the same black silk that made up her sleeves. 

The only thing Adrien couldn't tell was what was resting upon her head. It looked to be some kind of tiara, but it was almost as if it were created to look like broken heart shaped tears. Each piece was broken in a different spot than the others beside it. Each piece reflected a rainbow but it was dulled harshly as if there were also rain clouds behind each jewel to dampen the light. 

To Adrien, she was beautiful in an absolutely terrifying way. He studied her more to see if he could tell who exactly it was causing all of this destruction to his beautiful homeland. That's when he saw it. Those sad bluebell eyes. Those eyes he hadn't seen in years. Those eyes that would always light up when she saw him, and look away nervously when he approached her. Those eyes that had soon become his favorite color. Those eyes that he now saw were shrouded in darkness, misery, depression, and heartache. 

"Plagg," he called out to his kwami, "That's Marinette."