Omake 7: Life is a silly thing

Original Idea from: Guest 4 from Giovinezza (8)

~From Hannah’s Perspective~

The silence of one will always be taken as a tacit consent.

I can remember hearing these strange words from one of the women that tried to dote on me as I was slowly coaxed into accepting the unfairness of the situation. It was kind of saddening how my presence back to that squalid place wasn’t something that could be correlated from a person in particular, but to a variety of issues converging to the breaking point.

The fact that I was ‘adopted’ by Madame Lovely stemmed from numerous events within my early life. Some being carefully greeted with a smile, while some were met with scorn and scowls.

Life can be cruel, but to some it was the worst possible.

The smell of the brothel was unforgettable. I could remember my nostrils flaring in disgust the first time I entered that simple building.

I was hopeful at first when I first saw it in the distance. I thought that it was one of those mansions that were used by noblemen and noblewomen as their own homes.

From the horror of poverty, to the brilliance of the elite. It was idyllic back then, my mind failing to contain the joy rising from within my features as I followed the old woman that was Madame Lovely.

A nice lady, I could remember her like one of those ‘grandmothers’ that were mentioned by many of the children I had met in the last few years as source of wisdom, of refined kindness.

Madame Lovely resembled all of that, she had this sweet tone and simple manners that were just endearing to anyone that didn’t know much about her true self.

It was the perfect lure for silly girls that were so desperate for warmth, for food, for shelter.

The beautiful dream born with a sight, and then alive for a couple of steps, shattered right as I realized what was truly happening within the place.

It had stung, painfully so, but never enough to match the stinging sensation of a strong slap from the ‘kind lady’.

The Madame was kind to those who complied, but quickly proved to be stern and unforgiving when the first note of her protests reached her mind.

The ground was cold, but not as cold as the ‘sleeping section’ of the brothel was.

Nights spent trying to understand why God was being so unforgiving had been with only silence.

Did that mean that God agreed to me? Or perhaps the Lord Almighty cared little about the weak, and absently bestowed immunity to those that committed the heinous deed?

The shock had waned just a week after being taken in, and much of this time was spent ‘learning’ more about the ‘grand work’ I was now supposed to be part of.

It was all in the name of pleasure, all in the name of satisfaction. But both far from the subjective sense of these words, and more related to those that brought coin to the establishment.

I wasn’t smart there, and maybe I’m still far from properly understand the nature of that dark aspect within society, but I was perfectly aware that there was a heinous distaste in being forced into that role.

Visions of women ‘happily’ offering themselves to old man, people that were rich, that still wanted more and beyond the limits of a wedlock.

The horror of daily sessions that ended up with my mind trying and failing to grasp the fact that it would’ve eventually been my turn for that kind of disgusting actions.

Sure, thieving my way for survival had destroyed any semblance of normal morality within my soul, yet my inner purity had persisted through the despicable deeds I had to go through for the sake of staying alive in these trying times.

Hannah. That was the only certainty that had driven me through the worst of instances I was subjected to.

I hadn’t expected for some stable life. I had wanted to be cuddled away from the pain.

But it would’ve been just alright to have another certainty other than just a name.

A guarantee that my tomorrow wasn’t going to end up with my unfortunate passing.

Everything was possible, and being ‘taken’ in a brothel was perhaps the least problematic for a fair amount of reasons.

But my meager pride had simply refused to accept the unwanted cards. A refusal that was rekindled for numerous days.

With weeks turning into months, worry became a stable guest within my mind.

It was during an effort to be granted some relief away from that horrible situation, knowing that it was now a matter of days before the true commitment of my stay in the brothel was finally imposed upon me.

I needed to breathe, away from the disgusting scent of deplorable men.

The nearby park had sounded like a perfect idea. Then I had realized that the current state of my clothes wouldn’t just do to avoid any attention from people.

While I was glad that she had been given something else to the tattered robes I had been using for several years now, the skimpy nature of my new style hardly matched with the normalcy I was just seeking.

Thus I rushed away from the entrance, away from any clear sights and deep in that peaceful place domineered by nature.

A stubborn attempt to resist to the gritty reality of London, where nature thrived against the advance of the city’s society.

Wandering around in utter and complete silence, I finally took a moment to rest away from the main routes.

Loneliness was quick to receive me through my implicit yearning. I was distracted, so blissfully immersed in that bountiful peace that just was as endless as it was kind.

And in that unawareness… I was touched by Death.

Maybe it was wrong to consider someone as foul as Jack as something connected to the Ultimate Demise, and yet the sight of a lanky figure with a horrid knife standing in the shadows was enough to give me shivers.

The shadows dreadfully and masterfully hid his face, making it seem to my eyes that I wasn’t staring at a lone individual.

It was the world deeming her finished. I wasn’t needed to live any longer.

There had been no chance to avoid it. The situation had happened so suddenly and so furiously that I almost failed to notice the blood drawn by the swift murderer.

No hope painted me a way out from that case. I was frozen, I was done, and despite my best efforts to not show any emotions… I couldn’t help but show some absurd gratefulness.

Death sounded like mercy. It sounded so natural and so undeniable.

It was there, and I knew that the alternative would’ve been to try and survive a horrible life.

Bad life or swift death?

So many thoughts, most of those transcending within the malicious reasoning of the life here in the capital.

…

Then He had arrived.

At first I thought him to be one mere child that had gotten lost. Someone that was going to follow my same road to the afterlife.

Instead I was proven wrong… but with a pleasant surprise too.

The young man had blond hair, his eyes were a vibrant orange that was all directed to the malicious killer.

There had been some minor fear, but it was a speck of dust compared to the scene that ensured.

Lord Dio spoke with incredibly bravery and cold logic. There was no attempt in my mind to deny it, especially when ‘Death’ was stripped of its clothes and names.

Jack lost his anonymity, and he was finally exposed out of the shadows that had shrouded his identity.

The inevitable had sounded so different, and so fake.

The exchange that had then ensued further proved that Dio was beyond the simple.

Mere words drove the criminal away from the scene, the threatening and absolute tone of the blond’s voice tearing apart the resolve of the mad man to continue with his attempted kill.

And with Jack being sent away, I was left alone to Him.

Lord Dio was serious, mature, wise and… kind.

The kindness that sounded so close to what I had felt while around Madame Lovely, and yet this beautiful emotion was then associated with a genuine act of help.

Her wounds were fixed through the use of something beyond human.

Magic, I had thought back then in an awed stare. The power to bend and mold the world at the will of some.

It was absurd, yet it happened.

Dio had used this immense ability to heal me, giving me importance through that simple act of altruism.

There was no reward behind that deed, but only for him to be glad with her good health and safety away from danger.

With my heart quivering at the warm note of the odd encounter, the world seemed to become so easy after that situation.

There was bad, but there was also good.

I had seen the worst and now, in the lowest point of my life, I was granted the luxury of being cared for.

The warmth survived as I was brought back to the brothel, yet my dreamy self was snapped back to reality when Madame Lovely decided that it was ‘time for me to shine’.

I merely blinked as I found myself thrown into one of the ‘service room’ and left to wait for my first client.

Archibald Curzon was an old gentleman with an unpleasant neutral stare permanently fixed on his face.

A former captain during the English campaign in Crimea, he had retired when things were getting unhappy with his already-unruly behavior.

Curt and rude, he merely muttered a word as he started to unfasten his belt.

“Strip.”

A simple order, devoid of emotion or interest to whom he was talking to.

…

I could feel my anger rising at the sight. It was the breaking point and… I had to do something strong to make myself stand up before the unfairness.

My mind skimmed over the various thoughts that could’ve helped my in that moment and-

I remembered Lord Dio’s power. When he first injured Jack, and when he used it to heal me.

Could I do it?

I can remember thinking this in a fit of nervousness, of panic.

Thinking back about how the young man had accomplished that powerful spell, she reached for anything that could be used as… spheres.

It had to be spherical.

My ears itched at the noise of the belt having some trouble to get removed, reminding me that I had little time to truly act.

I moved quickly through the nearby furniture to find anything… a wooden ball.

I stared at it for a while… and then started to swirl it in my hands.

It had to rotate, it had to spin and-

…

My eyes widened mere seconds later as I saw the pretty light appear in my palms.

It shone so beautifully, so unrestrained. It was untamed, and it wanted to already act on my command.

A smile twitched on my face, it had been so empowering when I turned around with the spinning sphere, letting it trail up to my fingertips and-

Archibald Curzon just had some seconds to notice that something was wrong before the spinning wooden ball slammed on his belly and pushed him on the wall.

The impact was devastating, and the wood shards that exploded there proved to be fatal for the unfaithful elder.

The loud noise also proved to be enough to garner most of the brothel’s occupants.

Numerous women and confused clients rushed to the hallways that led to the room, but only one mustered enough courage to open the door.

It was Madame Lovely and… she didn’t seem to reflect her namesake with the ugly expression ruining her grandmotherly complex.

“What have you-!!” The old woman stopped, her eyes widening in shock and fright as she spotted the dying corpse of the client. “Y-You-”

I knew that I had to act as I couldn’t allow the old lady to recover from the fright. It was now or never!

“I will take my permanent leave from this disgusting place.” My voice didn’t tremble, and all of the frustration broke the dam of nervousness that had kept me quiet up until now. “And you shall never mess with me, insufferable hag!”

Panic swelled in the Madame, the shock and the panic- all stressing her in a state of silence.

Enough to allow me to leave, but not quickly enough to miss the woman crumbling down on the floor because of that deadly standoff.

From there… things would become awkward, insane and…

Then I found Dio again!

He saved me, he blessed me with his acceptance, with his wisdom and…

And then the world spun around in a completely unexpected manner.

With it all coming to sanity once more when a few words were pronounced by her Lord and Savior.

“Hannah… will you be my friend?”