Samael/Winslow Epilogue
So. This is what it had all come down to. All the fighting, all the bloodshed.
All of it was just for some soup and fancy words. Winslow couldn't quite believe it. He almost wanted to laugh! He had gotten himself killed twice over once his curse faded and it was all leading up to this. But Winslow couldn't bring himself to laugh. He was simply far too tired for that. Glancing around at those who remained gathered Winslow sighed. He couldn't bring himself to say goodbye.
Not if it meant that this would have been the last time they'd see Winslow alive.
For the musician knew what was coming next now that all of this was said and done. He'd be taking his final steps off this self-perpetuating tragedy that was the mortal coil. Shifting through the crowd, Winslow stopped as he glanced down at Samael.
"Are you ready to go..?"
Soup was cool. Not worth actually taking, though. She could whip some up any time she wanted with fairly minimal effort, so what would be the point? If anything it'd probably be a burden on her, considering how much soup would be required for an immortal's life span. Did they have infinite soup? She'd like to see that, but even she already knew the answer to that question.
Samael took a last look around at everyone. The group of kids taking a picture, and...everyone else, whatever they were doing. She wasn't quite sure, exactly but she didn't really care either.
As for the offer to join some thingy that wanted to go around stopping things like this, whatever this was? She'd have to decline for now. The existence of these happenings held her interest. Perhaps next time she'd even purposely appear on the other side, given these things happened often. Whichever side seemed more interesting whenever it came around.
If it came around.
Thoughts broken by the sudden words directed at her, the angel blinked a few times before scratching the back of her head.
"Guess you're not really the type to say good-bye, huh? Well, that's about what I expected anyway. Just gimme a second then..."
Grabbing Winslow by the arm, she slowly hovered into the sky, cupping her mouth with her free hand.
"Bye everyone, nice killing with you~!"
Smiling childishly, she waved farewell as she and Winslow began to disappear. Angels could traverse the parallel worlds on a whim, so it'd be more convenient for the two if she simply took them away on their own rather than leaving it to this "Coalition." Coalition of what, exactly, anyway?
Didn't matter anymore.
Soon, they rematerialized inside Winslow's room. A place with a keyboard, enclosed by a brick wall, littered with music sheets. The place where they'd met each other.
"Well, that adventure wasn't boring at all, so I'm in a good mood. Let's see, what was it exactly that you wanted me to do?"
Winslow glanced over to those he had met while stuck here. The likes of Jesse Custer who had seen a noble man in Winslow. But the musician simply couldn't believe that there was anymore a shred of good in him after all that had happened. He'd strayed too far and he'd soon be meeting his maker. Perhaps then Winslow could finally ask 'God' why he felt the need to make Winslow's life a recurring joke. There was another reason that Winslow declined on saying goodbye to Jesse.
Goodbyes were always the hardest to give and given what Winslow was about to do? He didn't imagine Jesse would have approved but Winslow's mind was set. No longer would he remain on a world that had treated him like dirt. If the land of the living would not have him than perhaps the realm of the dead would.
Then there was the sea witch, Wada. She had been kind to Winslow, not out of pity. But out of an innate kind nature. Something that surprised the musician given how the people he had encountered back home were cutthroats who wouldn't spare a dime if it didn't help them in one way or another. But again Winslow couldn't bring himself to give his departings to Wada. Not when he knew full well it'd be the last goodbye he'd ever give.
Which is why Winslow simply hung his head in silence and waited until Samael worked her magic. Leaving them in the place where their budding friendship had began. In Winslow's own personal hell. Surrounded by sheets of music that he was drugged up to produce all day and all night and trapped in with a brick wall.
Tonight would be the night it ended. All of it.
The music, Swan, and Winslow himself.
"I want to get revenge on the man who turned me into the monster you see before you. But I cannot bring his life to a close despite my best efforts." Winslow turned towards Samael and glanced down at her. "You can however. You can end this miserable chapter in my life!"
Ah, right, it was something like that wasn't it? The main and obvious problem here was that she had no idea who exactly she was supposed to kill. She'd long forgotten his name, and she couldn't tell something like who had ruined Winslow's life through eyesight. Going on a rampage and taking
everyone'slives would work, but Samael didn't have any particular reason to do that.
"Got it, got it. Let's see, I guess the first thing to do is to get out of here?"
Approaching the door, she kicked it with her small foot, blowing through it and the surrounding wall with ease.
"So who is he, and what does he look like? I'm an angel, not omniscient, you know."
While looking back over her shoulder at Winslow, she swung her scythe, decapitating all of the guards standing outside in an instant.
Winslow watched in awe as Samael tore through the wall Swan's goons had put up as if it were nothing more than wet tissue paper. Then before the guards could even react, their heads were lopped off and their bodies crumpling. Stepping out through the hole Samael had gracefully made, Winslow kicked one of the heads out of his way as he grit his teeth together.
"His name...is Swan. He's the music producer who stole my music. Stole my music and turned me into a monster! A phantom! He's probably hiding out in his office and I just so happen to know where it is. Whatever happens to me at this point doesn't matter. Just stay behind me." Winslow murmured as he began to sprint down the wall with his cape billowing behind him.
"SWAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!"
Various guards having heard the disturbance Samael and Winslow had been making rushed out of the rooms with pistols drawn. Opening fire on Winslow, the bullets tore through Winslow's chest and left tears in his cape. But he had come this far! He wasn't going to be stopped now! Drawing his knife, Winslow leaped at the wall of guards and tackled some of them to the ground.
He wasn't trained as a fighter so it wasn't the most graceful landing. But when you were immortal and had a knife, who needed finesse? Stabbing the guards he had knocked over multiple times, Winslow slugged the closest guard in the jaw to knock him off balance befoe leaving the rest for Samael to deal with as she wished.
"I'M COMING FOR YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!"
Swan had heard the sounds of his guards being slaughtered through his loudspeakers in his private office. He wasn't quite sure how Winslow had escaped his studio room but he supposed that it didn't really matter. Winslow could kill as many of the hired help as he wished. He knew full well that it didn't change a damn thing. Winslow couldn't kill him and he couldn't kill Winslow, a endless cycle of hate.
But he couldn't help but spare a glance over to his door as he heard something slamming against it. As if something heavy were being thrown against it.
"Winslow? Is that you? That door is reinforced steel, Winslow. If you think you can-" Swan stopped himself as the door buckled and toppled back leaving Winslow standing among a pile of mutilated body parts that used to be Swan's guards. Not at all perturbed by the sight, Swan turned in his chair to face Winslow as he approached.
"Well Winslow, I will admit one thing. You've certainly made a fine mess of the place. But I'm not quite sure what exactly is you're trying to prove here. You slaughtered my men, yes. But men can be replaced and you can be locked up. Much more securely it seems. So, what were you trying to accomplish here?"
"You'll see...Come on in." Winslow murmured as he turned towards the doorway. Swan raised an eyebrow as he crossed one leg over the other.
"Oh? You brought a friend with you, Winslow?"
"Ahaha! If you're a monster, what does that make me?"
She chose to ignore the obvious answer of a fallen angel.
"Well, not like it matters. Since your request is killing, I might've just ended up going for it whether you wanted me to or not."
Holding her scythe along her back, Samael simply kept in step with Winslow as he crudely put down a guard. Then another, and another and another until he finished the last one near him with a hard shot to the jaw. Taking his screaming and running as her cue to step back in, she raised her scythe and gave a few warning swings, the remaining guards seeming to back off in fear.
"Ah, cowards. Scared of a young girl just because she has a scythe?"
Two of the guards fired their guns, only to find their arms flying up towards the ceiling. A cruel, grim smile not befitting her body spread across the angel's face, her scythe's blade coated with the color red.
"That was the right decision~"
The rest of the guards screamed and scrambled to get away from Samael. A few shot backwards, hoping that perhaps the reaper would go down if shot by a bullet, or at least be slowed down. Yet she only accelerated, arriving right next to the group of guards as the bullet left the barrel of the gun. Body parts, blood, and organs splattered into the air as a single diagonal slice imperfectly bisected every one of them, covering herself with the crimson hue of victory.
The only thing left was a girl smiling amidst the scattered pieces of flesh that was once human. At least, until she detected a man larger than the rest begin to approach her from behind...
A guard strode into Swan's office, blood coating his fists and face. He wore a neutral expression, which seemed to naturally curve into more of a frown. He raised his fists to crack his blood covered knuckles as he stared down Winslow.
It seemed Swan had more powerful allies than anyone had anticipated.
Not saying a word, he staggered towards the phantom, towering over him as he seemed to look down on him. Physically and in place of Swan, to remind the broken monster of his place in this relationship.
The thing was, it all only
seemed that way.
In a blur of motion, the man was replaced with a short girl with blonde hair dressed in light blue as she practically teleported right next to the destroyer of Winslow's life. Grabbing the back of his head, she slammed his head into ground, shaking the whole building as his face was used like a wrecking ball against the ground, shattering it in the shape of the man's face. She walked around towards his head, tugging his hair to force him to look at her.
"Hehe, you really thought it was your guard, didn't you? Sorry, but he died a lot like everyone else did, but he tried his best to stop me! I mean, it didn't amount to much, so it was pretty pointless in the end."
Lifting him with one arm, Samael held him up towards Winslow.
"Whatcha wanna do with him? I could just end him here, but I think we can make it more fun, don't you?"
"N-No it can't be! H-How could you have defeated her?! My plans, they're ruined! THEY'RE ALL RUINED! NOOOOOOOOO!" Winslow shrieked as the 'guard' closed in on him and Swan smiled.
"Yes, do please teach Winslow the pecking order of Death Records. Then, once you're done clean up this-"
Suddenly the guard was gone and Swan barely managed to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a young girl behind him.
"..Mess??" Before he could do anything further, he was smashed into his desk splitting it straight down the middle and leaving a crack in the floor. The impact certainly shattered Swan's glasses and Winslow stumbled.
The injury to Swan meant Winslow's own injuries were starting to open up. But he couldn't afford to die yet. Not before Swan died first. Clutching at his chest as blood began to seep out from the stab wound his heart had taken, Winslow coughed out.
"Cut off his limbs...One by one! The loss of each limb will represent everything he's taken from
me!"
Swan couldn't even begin to comprehend what was happening. One moment the guard had been standing there. Ready to break Winslow in a manner that amused Swan. But now the guard was gone and in his place, a little girl. One that seemed delighted at the prospect of torturing him! Seeing the blood run down from Winslow's wound, Swan coughed up a wad of blood.
"D-Don't you remember the terms of our contract, Winslow? We terminate together! So what if you've found someone who can harm me? We'll reach the same end! I go and you follow behind! Why not make these last few moments pleasant ones?"
"I am. Samael, do it."
"Oho? One by one, huh? You're a cruel, cruel man."
Giggling to herself, Samael threw him on his back to the ground. She placed her scythe directly underneath his left armpit. Slowly but consistently like a machine, the scythe began to rip at the joint that held the arm in its place, chewing through flesh and bone before she finally pulled it free. Blood ran freely and fountained into the air, as if following the newly loose arm.
"One!"
Stomping on what remained of Swan's shoulder, she positioned her scythe under his other armpit, continuing to smile as the blood soaked her features. Once again the sound of metal cleaving through flesh and bone rang throughout the room, joining the symphony of gushing blood and Swan's screams.
"Two!"
This time, Swan's inner thigh was the angel's victim. Continuing methodically, she didn't slice it off cleanly with one good swing. Just like the arms, she took a slow and steady pace to feel the tendons break, veins bisected, bones rend. His leg flew off, Samael catching it in midair as she pushed a little harder through the last bit of Swan's leg.
"Three! You're weak, so weak. How did you even manage to take anything in the first place? I feel like a bully. Not that that really bothers me, hehe!"
She stomped on Swan's face with his own leg, grinding the leg owner's face under its own heel, before throwing it hard against a wall. Then she finally prepared to take off the final limb. Once more blood gushed forth, the sound of blood almost rivaling that of a raging river due to its sheer quantity. Smacking her blood covered lips, Samael spun her scythe around before holding it straight up, like a hammer of judgment.
"That was four! Bye-bye uh, whatever your name was. Sorry, I already forgot."
A dark green, nasty, viscous liquid coated the blade of Samael's scythe. It was the venom that represented her, her most powerful attack that slayed mortals and immortals, humans and angels. All were the same before her potent venom.
And with her immortal slaying blade she reaped the life of the satanic record producer, Swan.
"Agh! Winslow! S-Stop this! You'll never see Phoenix again! You'll be bleeding out on the floor just like me!" Swan screeched in an attempt to get Winslow to call off this demented child. But Winslow stayed the course. He had already sealed his own fate with the heart wound, the rest of the wound were simply helping to speed up the process. He had lost any and all chances to see Phoenix after he had attempted to take his own life.
Which meant that the only thing left for him was to watch Swan die. The monster who had stolen Winslow's music, got him thrown into prison and got his teeth pulled, who lead to Winslow getting his face crushed between a record press. He was finally getting his comeuppance and even as tears started to appear on Winslow's costume, he couldn't have been happier.
"Hahahahaha! Yes, that's the way Samael! Savor each and every blow!"
The screams Swan made may as well have been the greatest 'music' Swan had ever made and to be fair to Swan? This time it was wholly original. But even as bones began to crack and Winslow's left leg snapped like a twig as the damage finally started to catch up with him, Winslow tumbled to the ground. But even that couldn't break his good mood.
"M-Make him pay for...
EVERYTHING!!!"
The sound of metal burning/slicing through flesh kept that grin plastered on Winslow's face. The pain he was feeling from bullet wounds, stab wounds, broken bones and the like was absolutely immense and excruciating! But he didn't care one bit. This would be Swan's end and so too would it be his!
As Swan's last limb was cleaved off and he struggled to keep his eyes open as the massive blood loss was draining his will to go on, he coughed up a storm.
"W...What do you think you've accomplished Winslow..? You've killed me..But you still have nothing...Nothing! Heh..."
Winslow's own breath by this point was ragged, likely to do with all the damage to his internal organs from the bullet wounds. Drawing his knife, Winslow clutched onto the chunk of his arm that had been torn wide open by a machete earlier as he started to crawl towards a record player Swan had sitting nearby in his office. Likely to amuse himself whenever he stole particularly good songs from people like Winslow.
"That's where you're wrong, Swan. I do have something...I have...
Your life."
As blood dripped onto the record, Winslow shakily slipped it onto the track and placed the needle atop it as the music began to play.
Slumping himself up against the record player's table, Winslow flashed a grin over at Swan as the music filled the office along the sound of blood running out of fresh wounds. Swan couldn't help but be the slightest bit amused himself. Winslow had finally gotten one over on him. Bombing the Juicy Fruits hadn't done it, threatening his life hadn't done it, but now Winslow was using his own music against him as he lay dying.
"Heh...Heh. You've won this round, Winslow...I'll see you down below..." With that Swan's head lulled to the side as his eyes rolled up into his head and Winslow fell over onto the floor with a pool of blood quickly forming under him.
"...Thank you, Samael. I lost...everything because of him. But thanks to you, I got all that I could have wanted. Thank you.." With that Winslow's own eye began to drift shut. Was this really the ending he'd been hoping for? He almost felt like he didn't deserve it. The universe had yet to play one last cruel joke on Winslow Leach.
But, perhaps that itself
was the final joke.
To keep Winslow guessing what would happen next even in his final moments. But nothing would come. Death Records was in ruins, corpses were strewn all over the place, Swan was dead and Winslow wasn't too far behind. Were their still things Winslow wished could have been different? Of course! He wished he had gotten to give his thanks to Jesse for believing in him when everyone else had given up hope and to Wada for helping him against all odds.
But you didn't always get what you wanted and you had to make due with what you got. So, that's exactly what Winslow would do. As his eye finally shut and the knife fell from his hand, The Phantom finally perished.
He'd already mentioned it before, but it was still a little surprising that for every wound she inflicted on Swan, it came back to bite Winslow. Samael hadn't let that slow her down, though. It was what he, her friend, wanted, even at the cost of his own life. In fact, it'd be worse if she'd let that stop her from doing what she did.
Still, this was the end of the road. Like it was a cheap doll, she'd disassembled the mechanisms that had ensnared the phantom for so long.
But her talents were geared for combat, death, destruction. She poisoned the days of creation, and the days of the end. And so she bestowed agonizing death upon all that lives.
But she only bestowed it. Taking it back was out of her reach.
Her head felt strangely empty as she finished off Swan. Ah, that's right. Winslow was dead too. The telepathic link between them was automatically severed for there was no mind to be linked with.
She almost wished Swan had been a more terrible foe. She hadn't felt any pain throughout her entire rampage. It was like playing a game with all the cheats active for too long. It felt empty. The only reminder that she'd accomplished something was the corpse of her friend. She'd killed on his behalf, not her own. Yet she hadn't even managed to say anything before he passed on.
Her perennial grin fell as she stepped out of the bloodied room. Not a soul was left inside. No guards, no Swan, no Winslow. That left nothing for her in this world.
"...Hope that made you happy."
She took off into the sky, aimlessly shifting dimensions, moving to different worlds. Ah, would she find something so entertaining again? Or was this the real hell, condemned to eternal boredom? No matter where she went, she couldn't find her old friend, nor even any of her numerous old enemies. That was right, everything was falling apart when she'd died. Lilith must have finished the job. Had Setsuna failed, even with their fusion?
She couldn't do anything about it now anyway.
Finally, there was only one last thing to try, then.
"Let's visit the old place then."
Hell. It wasn't the blazing bonfire many expected. In fact, it was completely flooded over. Cerberus no longer guarded the gate. At least this much looked familiar. The first familiar thing she'd encountered ever since first waking up, and of course it was Hell itself. She walked through the gate of Hell, the huge gates opening as if to welcome her. Keeping the high water pressure at bay with a barrier, the gates closed shut without letting in an inch of water.
Hell's Tokyo Babel, First Floor.
Just as empty as she remembered it. God had purged heaven of its angels and hell of its demons and the fallen. So nothing truly remained here, souls vanishing into the nether, never able to recover. Even eternal reincarnation was cut off. Samael huffed triumphantly, as if that was what she'd already expected. Winslow's soul couldn't come here when God himself had forbidden it. It was straight up impossi-
A sharp sensation like an electric current pierced the angel's mind.
Telepathy.
The ground where Samael once was exploded as she dashed towards its source. Still on the first floor, but hidden away in a building somewhere. In no time at all, she busted through the building's eighth floor, confronting an unmistakably ridiculous-looking bird mask.
"Even when you die, you don't, huh? You're gonna make it look like I can't do my job, you know?"
How had his soul made it here? If his was here, where was everyone else's? Far more than just Winslow had died recently. Swan's soul should be around if Winslow's had made it, yet nary a soul was within her detection range.
Ah, who cared.
Without understanding a single thing, the two friends laughed at the unexpected reuinion.
End
Collab between Mark (Chewy Rabbits) and myself
@Chewy Rabbits @anyoneelseinterested
