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The occult. Something Medkit was never too accustomed to looking at. Their false beliefs, their cravings for rituals that would go against all logical things, yet they did it anyways. So very organized, too difficult to get in. Too difficult to find, too difficult to leave. Something that goes far too back in time to narrow, but something that should not have lasted as long as it does. The inphernal mind was truly strange in that matter, clinging to beliefs of long ago that none could ever prove to be true. Whatever helped them sleep and not wonder to themselves where will I go when I die?
Ghostwalker had gained some intellect on a particularly interesting occultus matter. Something so important they felt the need to send Medkit, their most trusted accomplice, to examine. They did not truly trust Medkit, as they did not create her. But she was one of the few that trusted them, and that seemed to suffice for the deity to allow her to do lesser tasks.
Medkit knew plenty about cults. She was once in one, before Ghostwalker graciously offered her a third chance. Perhaps too much of a chance, but a chance to prove herself in an environment that would not strike her down. She found herself either in libraries constantly, trying to learn as much as she could to please her deity, or wandering the Inpherno in search of (a mere example of recent events) a relic that Ghostwalker wished to examine.
This was different, though. Ghostwalker wanted her to end the life of the cult leader. Something about the leader evading death for far too long, breaking the cycles of life that had been set in place long before the Swords themselves. From the information Medkit had gathered, she could come up with quite the story.
The leader was immortal. Somehow, they had breached the very cycles of life with ancient magic that should never have been tampered with. Perhaps a single sacrifice, perhaps several. Maybe they killed and stole the life of other inphernals, becoming inevitably immortal. Not indestructible, as all was doomed to die. That was a teaching Ghostwalker had given her. Perhaps, this leader was not even real. But Ghostwalker would not send her to find something imaginary. But this did not make sense.
Medkit found herself walking through snow she hoped to never look down upon again. A cowl shielded her head as the cloak did her entire body, graying horns popping out of the hood from perfectly circular holes. A white girdle trapped the cloak against her body, a sharp yet small contrast to the blacks and grays that covered her body. A monocle hung from her eye, dipping into the cloak with everything of importance. A pouch with her gun hung off the girdle, as white as her paled skin. If the faction had somehow noticed her, she hoped to simply shoot and be done. Unnecessary death wasn't preferred, but she did what she needed.
The area seemed so familiar, she had half the mind to walk back to her old lab as if nothing happened. But she did not, making a turn to the right towards the mountains. If she was right, there should be a trapdoor hidden somewhere. That is what Ghosdeeri informed her of when she had asked. Probably the only watcher that she frequently interacted with, kind enough to lend Medkit the endless information she had.
She kept walking, eye glued to the snow. It wasn't harshly snowing, but it was much colder than Medkit was used to. Funny how living away from somewhere for over eighty years made her so vulnerable to chilly weather. Ghostwalker, in turn for her becoming their loyal follower, had made her age slower as to carry out her duties easier. Nonetheless, she continued. Not seeing the little wooden door with the bloodied rose, yet stepping on something that made a small THUD sound.
Crouching down, she pitied herself for not wearing the thicker gloves her deity suggested. Thin white gloves, ones that she did not need to wear but wore anyways for her health. No use in getting sick and risking death, on that matter. Fingers cupping snow as she dug like an animal, trying to uncover whatever it was. Metal did not make a thud, but she did not want to get her hopes up and let her guard down thinking she already found it.
Yet she had, as it appeared. Dark oak wood with a... pink rose. So familiar, the color, so avoidable. It had a small handle that she pulled, opening it to reveal a flight of stone stairs. How did this appear in Blackrock and go unseen? She dipped herself into the hole, closing the trapdoor and following the torches decorating the walls. Strangely, she felt a sense of longing. Familiarity, something that felt like she was in a dream. A very lucid dream, at that. It all seemed so familiar.
The torches finally ended as she arrived at the last step. The room was... oddly blank. Black velvet-like carpet, wooden benches that she assumed were for prayer, and cobble walls. It was not steep, it was not large, it was not beautiful. It seemed just like a normal prayer area. Rather than having the normal altar, it was a coffin. Nothing atop it, nothing surrounding it. No books, no candles, nothing except a single rose.
Medkit knew better than to waste time. She didn't stomp nor run, but stuck to a fast enough pace until she stood in front of the coffin. One hand went down to her pouch, grabbing her gun firmly. Finger on the side of the trigger, hand cupping the familiar pistol. It was so odd to look at, the only color on Medkit period being the base of her horns, which were now the same green she once had when working with Blackrock, and now the gun. Gloved fingers slid under the coffin lid, not prying it open. It seemed to open relatively easy, like opening a novel.
A body, eyes— no, an eye— shut. The other one was masked by the same pink rose. Medkit could not care to admire the being in the coffin, as she recognized those horns far too well. Horns seemed to be a shade redder than before, but still the same ones from her old co-worker. Without a second thought, she pointed the gun at the inphernals head. Easiest job Ghostwalker had given, it seemed.
That is until a crystal hit her side.
Her body got shoved to the floor, sliding slightly across the wooden planks. Her eye was wide, darting to find how it shot out. Yet she now gazed upon Subspace— looming over her with a grin. Mask was off, as apparently the being found no need for it. Not with an old buddy. "Medkit, long time no see." She said with a slack smile, half her face rotting to the point it looked as if it were melted, and making it an unseemly sight.
Those damned pink eyes. An upside down cross hung between her horns, and she knew then and there what was happening. "You're the leader?" She asked, slightly bewildered. How did Subspace of all demons end up as a cultist?
She gave an eager nod, crouching down and looking at the follower with an equally dilated eye. The only difference was that hers was from excitement. Finally, finding the one her faction had hunted down for ages. Yet, she did not want to immediately kill the old medic. Why not have some fun? "Bingo bango!! Your mind still works fast, though I wonder what could've brought you my little old church?" She questioned, climbing onto the past healers lap as to keep her still. Prey mustn't escape the predator, after all.
Medkit leaned back onto her elbows, trying to keep a relative distance from the revolting inphernal. She reeked of blood and murder. "Immortality has not done you good, Subspace." She scoffed, not making a move just yet. Not until she got some information. As much as she wanted to kill the past-scientist and be done with it all, Ghostwalker would have wanted more information. And she must appease her Sword.
"The name is Exorspace, you wench." She hissed, moving her face closer to the repulsed demon. "And I could say the same to you. Didn't expect you to live this long! Though I wonder why that is?"
Medkit glared up at her, ultimately turning her head to the side. She wished Exorspace— what an odd name— would at least brush half of her teeth. Which were apparently fangs. "I could ask the same thing to you."
Neither of them were getting any information out of one another. This was such a boring game. Exorspace's fingers squished Medkits cheeks, turning her face to gaze upon the cultist. "What's in it for me, hm? Whatcha gonna give me, your soul?" She asked mockingly, flicking the medics forehead and smiling. That smile seemed to never leave her face.
"Exchange. You answer me, I answer you."
"And what makes you think I'll trust that you won't just grab your little revolver and just—" She pointed her fingers to her head, two fingers pressed against each other, thumb pointing up, other fingers against her palm. "—blow my brain out?"
"What makes you think I only have one question?"
They both went quiet, only the sounds of Medkit's heavy breathing being audible. She could not help it, she was nervous. Being pressed against the floor and threatened by one she would consider an enemy was something she never wanted to happen.
Exorspace sighed, leaning back enough to let Medkit sit up properly, but still remaining on her lap. "Okay, I'll start so I can figure out how to answer your question. What are you doing here, hm?" She asked, a lot more relaxed than before. Funny how she seemed to think she was more powerful than the one who hunted her, even if unintentional.
The room was barely lit, the only proper light being the cross between the cultist's horns. And even that was horrible lighting, as it only highlighted the demons disgusting face. "I was sent on a mission regarding your apparent cult. How are you immortal?" She did not waste a second nor take a pause to ponder. Cutting to the chase, making this quick.
"Dark magic is very peculiar, isn't it? Alas, I've always been immortal. A disease from when I was spawned— a malfunction, if you will. Either I die or give into my urges. So I did, drinking the life out of some random inphernal. A vampire."
Medkit struggled to remember the name of the illness. Though not a doctor, she had a fair share of knowledge thanks to Ghostwalker and the watchers. "Black blood?"
Exorspace nodded. "Now, how are you immortal? Inphernals don't live that long, and your horns aren't gray enough to suggest you're over 50. Yet you're as old as me, so I know you are."
"A deity."
"Your answers are so dry. I told you much more than that!"
Exorspace still had the mind of Subspace. Though they were the same being, the change of names suggested that she was no longer relating to Subspace. A new start under a new identity. Medkit gripped the gun she forgot she was holding, somehow her grip not loosening despite getting an exploding crystal to the other arm. Exorspace did not notice, as she was too busy gazing upon the medics face. In her mind, she admired how the medic hadn't truly aged much. A couple of wrinkles and scars, but nothing that ruined her. Wrinkles, in the vampire's mind, ruined everything.
"Ghostwalker recruited me. In turn for my allegiance, I age slower than I should."
"Explains the get-up, I guess!!"
They spent a while asking each other questions. Medkit had long since run out, but Exorspace seemed to have an endless amount. No, she was not affiliated with a specific region before-hand. No, she did not know why Blackrock couldn't find her. No, she was not associated with other deities. Yes, she was a loner. Questions that seemed to drift onto catching up rather than about the soon demise of the vampire.
Exorspace had found herself much more comfortable, head pressing against the medics binded chest. A small necklace hung from her neck, hidden by the cloak. Exorspace did not care about what Medkit thought, as she wanted to try returning to old times. One of them would die here, she knew that. Might as well make good use of the time.
The scientist's hand found itself grabbing the necklace, yanking it and making Medkit jolt. Her eyes widened, looking down at the vampire twirling the rhombus-shaped fuchsia pendant between fingers. Nails that could bleed someone out. "This seems awfully familiar. You gave me a ring two days after I gave you this, yeah?" She asked, reminiscing on the memory. They had just finished the first model of the crystal that she now worshiped.
Medkit felt her face heat up. How in the world did she remember that? The blush quickly escaped though, as she remembered that this was not a high-school reunion. This was just a moment before ending another life that should have passed long ago. "A golden ring with a rose on it." She recalled. "The only gift I ever gave you."
"Something about me being unappreciative. I was very appreciative, though!!" She cackled, eye shutting as she did so.
Medkit hated that she found herself laughing with her.
The laughs died down, eventually being just a smile on the both of them. Medkit was postponing. She did not want to kill Exorspace anymore. But she knew Ghostwalker would have her throat for disobeying an order.
For a while, they looked at each other, gazing into the eye they did not destroy. Exorspace moved closer, sharp nose pressing against snout. As if communicating through the look in their eyes alone, Medkit closed the gap, kissing Exorspace. She pressed her tongue against the medics lips, and Medkit obeyed all the more.
It seemed like heaven for Exorspace. She smiled in it, breathing through her nose as her tongue explored every fragment of the others mouth. No spot was left untouched nor untasted.
At least, not until the gunshot rang.
Medkit did not move the revolver afterwards, keeping it firmly pressed against the others head. For extra measures, she shot the horns, cutting them clean off with the strength of the bullet. Exorspace's eyes widened, and remained that way as she bled into the others mouth. Immortal, but not immune to death. All things died.
Medkit could not feel herself cry, simply pushing the limp body off of her lap. Gloved fingers brushing over the others face, closing the pink eye. She could not bear to look at the face of the other any longer. She stood up off the floor, looking down at the floor as she climbed back up the stairs.
The last thing she saw before returning to the snow was that pink rose on the trapdoor.