▪and they would get violent▪
《 underestimate her.
please.
--in the end
you'll never see her coming. 》
DISCLAIMER : Under no circumstances do I own Jujutsu Kaisen, nor its characters. I only own the plot of this story, with the r...
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Like the condemning voice of whatever god rules from above, disincarnated voices fall from hidden speakers, uttering series of letters and numbers that made sense to no-one at all.
The echo of soles dies against a floor worn out by countless steps on its polished surface. Hurried travellers pass and go, trying to reach their flights on time, their strides as if rhythmed by an unseen ticking clock. Aching limbs carry heavy luggage, the pain nothing but a dull throb numbing the body.
Lucky them, truly. After all, they were not burdened by the heavy knowledge of how things truly were in this oh so wonderful world. No, they were blind to all but what they accepted to see.
So blissfully unaware of exactly what roamed the streets at night, lurking behind every corner, claws digging in bricks as red as the blood that would inevitably stain it all in the end, teeth begging to sink their crooked sharpness in tender flesh and tear it all apart.
No-one quite knew just why they suddenly sped up. They willed their strides to lengthen more and more, muscles crying out from exhaustion — anything to remain in the light of the day just a little longer.
It is no obvious threat with glistening blades visible to all. More of a curious feeling, one you cannot put words on. You don't know what it is, if only you could know—
If you were to stop one of those hurried travellers and ask, you would, perhaps, get an answer.
It’s a sort of heaviness against one’s flesh, not oppressing, no — a nervous hand brushing against the bare skin of a forearm — but… Always there. Omnipresent.
It’s scents you do not recognise; you do not want to recognise.
It’s a slight change in the overall chaos that is order and in the complex structure of chaos. Something that you cannot see for you are not in the right place to begin with. (You never were.)
Amongst the silhouettes of the tidal wave of passer-by, curiously distorted by the whims of crude neon lights, lips curl up by a fraction.
Ah, how clever must they all be.
Them, out of all people, are now aware that something wasn’t quite right, not anymore.
Yes, something had changed, as if a creature never to be freed, one that had been restlessly biding its time in the murky depths of oblivion, had somehow been let loose. One that, once more, would roam this world with nothing in mind by carnage and slaughter and massacre and the sweet taste of bloodied human flesh.
This should not have been possible. No, not now, not ever. It should have been prevented—
And yet it was.
They all knew it was only a matter of time before the seals gave in to his presence.
And now, they, those lucky enough to have been born without the ability to see the horrifying truth they have been trying to shield them from all those years, all those decades, all those centuries; yes, even they could tell that something was there.
A certain pressure wearing down on suddenly tensed shoulders as a chill ran down one’s spine, and it definitely hadn’t been there before now, had it?
Should you listen closely, yes, do hold your breath — oh but my darling one, why can you not hear?
A soft sound lost in the chorus of the airport’s familiar humming. It’s black heels clicking on the cold, worn-out ground.
