Mourning Doves | Tokyo Ghoul

17 | C h a o s

Her breathing was ragged, as though it had been ripped apart by the claws of a beast. She ran with everything that she could muster, her chest heaving and her crimson eyes wide and wild with all of the chaos raging in the world. She hadn't broken a sweat yet, and all she could think about was him. Him. The ghoul who had been kind to her.

The building crawled closer as she sprinted across the facility, towering above everything that was steel and smoky; the black asphalt on the ground was moist with the recent shower of rain, and the place reeked of chemicals and oozing black oil. The containment center was large, larger than she had expected it to be, but did nothing to faze her as she trudged on at a superhuman speed, bolting past the steel railings and scaling up incredible amounts of stairs. She could see the lights creating white beams from the windows and out through the cylindrical top, and she could smell the guards patrolling the area as though they were rotten eggs in a henhouse; this was it, and there was no turning back.

She let out a snarling growl, grabbing the railing she trudged towards and launched herself ten feet into the air, flying over the wall that obstructed her and landed smoothly on her toes, her body crouched and her arms spread out around her. She flashed her eyes to the left, seeing the first of the guards walking away, their backs facing towards her and oblivious to her presence; the villainous crimson glare fused itself into her eyes and her jaw grew slack, a writhing pink tongue swirling around over her lips that curled up into a sinister smile.

There was an explosion of indigo fire, only to immediately crystalize into four insect-like legs; in that same instant, a massive, curled black tail emerged from the base of her spine, with black armor stretching across her body in glossy black sections. The guards didn't even know what came at them as their blood splattered against the concrete and steel, with their heads rolling to the edge of the path and topping over the cliff.

With another snarl, her crystalline legs began crawling swiftly up the spiraling pathway. She was black as the night, with no moon to aid the guards with their straining eyes; no stars decorated the sky that evening, leaving only a thick blanket of darkness to cast over the city in one massive sheet. She moved quickly, deliberately, slicing definite blows upon her victims before continuing her way as if nothing had happened; she was silent and terrifying, only a shadow of an assassin that crept eerily through the darkness.

After several levels of what seemed to be poorly trained guards to her, she reached the main wall of the detention center, craning her neck up to look at the monstrosity of a building, and identifying its peak just a few hundred meters up. Her red lips, exposed through her black grotesque mask, turned down into a fierce scowl as the blood of her victims dribbled down her chin; she swiped a tongue over it and let out another growl before stabbing her first two legs into the thick concrete wall, and began pulling herself up the barrier. Her movements were quick and fluid, like an insect itself, as she scaled up the concrete side of the facility.

In a matter of seconds she was up at the top, flinging herself into the sealed center of the entrance, and making no hesitations into attacking the men working the trap door.

She stumbled forward, her massive stinger glistening in the chilled air of the night as she slammed it down upon one man's head, the blood spurting from the gaping wound; his body hadn't even hit the ground when she stabbed the tapering blade into another man's chest, tugging it out with his still-beating heart skewered through its needle-like tip. She snatched the organ with nimble fingers and took a juicy bite from it, the black blood smearing across the white fleshiness of her chin and mixing with the saliva that flooded her open mouth. She let out a seething cackle, eying the guards through the four slits of her mask with their quinque already unsheathed. She crouched on her four stilts of legs, smirking, before launching herself high up into the sky.