Categories > Anime/Manga > Full Metal Alchemist > Anaconda Vol. 6
Fatal Desire
0 reviewsDarius is on a downward spiral when Manami speeds up his downfall with her own plans for him. Song Recommended: "Like A Cro-Magnon (Like A Magnet Remix by The Rev I J Jackson of Ordinaryson)" by Am...
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Fatal Desire:
Simone's Notes:
Kelleher and Kelleher (1998) created several categories to describe female serial killers. They used the classifications of black widow, angel of death, sexual predator, revenge, profit or crime, team killer, question of sanity, unexplained and unsolved. In using these categories, they found that most women fell into the categories of black widow and team killer. In describing murderer Stacey Castor, forensic psychiatrist Dr. James Knoll offered a psychological perspective on what defines a "black widow" type. In simple terms, he described it as a woman who kills two or more husbands or lovers for material gain. Though Castor was not officially defined as a serial killer, it is likely that she would have killed again.
He couldn't handle it anymore. The guilt had eaten at Darius for far too long. He lost contact with his fellow soldiers in Central while hiding out in his apartment. At first, everyone wondered why. But over time, the curiosity began to die away. Some even believed that he went and committed suicide last December. A few believed he became a recluse. The rest believed that he was still around, somewhere.
Darius had been around, but not so well off. Death couldn't even compare to him now. He forgot what the sunlight looked like. Ever since Ai-Oni went back to the skies, he had just been thrown to the side like a used tool. He longed for the mistress to return and take him back again. At least then, he had some purpose to his life.
Now even suicide seemed pathetic. He just hid in the darkness of his room in bed. The only time he left the apartment was to get a drink at the bar and occasionally go out for a drink. He didn't talk to anybody while out on the town. However, that all took a darker course.
It all occurred three days ago. The Fallen soldier roamed the streets to the local for his Wednesday drink. He could hear the people laughing at him in his head. The man tried to push it out of his head in vain./Leave me alone!/ A strange scent of foreign perfume danced in his nose. His lips tried to twitch into a smile. His footsteps slowly became lighter and lighter.
Then, CRASH! Darius found himself sinking backwards onto the ground. He rubbed his nose in pain.
"Ow! I'm so sorry!" he cried. His ears filled with a soft giggle. Usually, he would want to shout at rage at anyone laughing at him. But, this was just different. This laugh sounded more airy. More feminine. More... gentle. Darius slowly lifted his head. The Fallen Princess gave him a flirty smile.
"Are you okay there?" she asked.
"Umh," he grunted.
"Here, let me help you up," the woman said. She took the fallen soldier by the hand and helped him to his feet. Darius just brushed himself off.
"You okay?" the Fallen Princess asked. The soldier nodded.
"Yeah," he said. But when he looked, the woman was nowhere in sight. Darius looked around for any trance of her on the streets.
"Huh? Where did you go?" he asked. Not a trace of pink hair to be seen. Did I imagine her? But then, he felt a piece of folded up piece in his right hand. The man unclenched his fist and looked at the paper.
A phone number? He held it up to the streetlight above and took a long moment to read. Is it... her number? He looked up into the crowding night street in front of him. Something slowly unfolded in his scattered up brain.
It took him so much nerve to finally pick up the phone and call her. Three whole days he waited to pick up the phone. Each time, he would chicken out and hang up. Darius felt stupid for doing so. It's just so easy; pick up the damn phone and make the call! Finally, he picked up the phone about close to midnight and dialed her number.
"Hello?" he heard a woman's voice ask on the other line.
"Who's this?" he asked.
"This is Manami. Who is this?"
"Uh... You may not remember me, but I'm the guy you bumped into three nights ago on the street."
A long pause came from the other line. Then, she gave a little chuckle on the phone. "Oh yeah, that! What exactly do you want?"
"Why did you give your number?"
"Maybe I wanted to see you again."
"Really now?"
"Why don't you come up to my apartment and see?"
"Okay. Where is that?"
"416, fourth floor of this building."
Darius paused in confusion. "Wait... you mean this apartment building?"
"Yeah."
"You live here?"
"Yeah."
"Wow," Darius mouthed to himself. "Well then, I guess I will be right up."
"I will be waiting."
"Okay, bye," Darius said before hanging up and heading out the door.
In three minutes, the soldier stood right at the Fallen Princess' front door and knocked on it. Manami opened it wide and greeted him with a tasty smirk.
"Welcome, I've been expecting you," she greeted him.
Next Night
Next Time: Jakob comes home for spring break to see Riza and their unborn child.
Simone's Notes:
Kelleher and Kelleher (1998) created several categories to describe female serial killers. They used the classifications of black widow, angel of death, sexual predator, revenge, profit or crime, team killer, question of sanity, unexplained and unsolved. In using these categories, they found that most women fell into the categories of black widow and team killer. In describing murderer Stacey Castor, forensic psychiatrist Dr. James Knoll offered a psychological perspective on what defines a "black widow" type. In simple terms, he described it as a woman who kills two or more husbands or lovers for material gain. Though Castor was not officially defined as a serial killer, it is likely that she would have killed again.
He couldn't handle it anymore. The guilt had eaten at Darius for far too long. He lost contact with his fellow soldiers in Central while hiding out in his apartment. At first, everyone wondered why. But over time, the curiosity began to die away. Some even believed that he went and committed suicide last December. A few believed he became a recluse. The rest believed that he was still around, somewhere.
Darius had been around, but not so well off. Death couldn't even compare to him now. He forgot what the sunlight looked like. Ever since Ai-Oni went back to the skies, he had just been thrown to the side like a used tool. He longed for the mistress to return and take him back again. At least then, he had some purpose to his life.
Now even suicide seemed pathetic. He just hid in the darkness of his room in bed. The only time he left the apartment was to get a drink at the bar and occasionally go out for a drink. He didn't talk to anybody while out on the town. However, that all took a darker course.
It all occurred three days ago. The Fallen soldier roamed the streets to the local for his Wednesday drink. He could hear the people laughing at him in his head. The man tried to push it out of his head in vain./Leave me alone!/ A strange scent of foreign perfume danced in his nose. His lips tried to twitch into a smile. His footsteps slowly became lighter and lighter.
Then, CRASH! Darius found himself sinking backwards onto the ground. He rubbed his nose in pain.
"Ow! I'm so sorry!" he cried. His ears filled with a soft giggle. Usually, he would want to shout at rage at anyone laughing at him. But, this was just different. This laugh sounded more airy. More feminine. More... gentle. Darius slowly lifted his head. The Fallen Princess gave him a flirty smile.
"Are you okay there?" she asked.
"Umh," he grunted.
"Here, let me help you up," the woman said. She took the fallen soldier by the hand and helped him to his feet. Darius just brushed himself off.
"You okay?" the Fallen Princess asked. The soldier nodded.
"Yeah," he said. But when he looked, the woman was nowhere in sight. Darius looked around for any trance of her on the streets.
"Huh? Where did you go?" he asked. Not a trace of pink hair to be seen. Did I imagine her? But then, he felt a piece of folded up piece in his right hand. The man unclenched his fist and looked at the paper.
A phone number? He held it up to the streetlight above and took a long moment to read. Is it... her number? He looked up into the crowding night street in front of him. Something slowly unfolded in his scattered up brain.
It took him so much nerve to finally pick up the phone and call her. Three whole days he waited to pick up the phone. Each time, he would chicken out and hang up. Darius felt stupid for doing so. It's just so easy; pick up the damn phone and make the call! Finally, he picked up the phone about close to midnight and dialed her number.
"Hello?" he heard a woman's voice ask on the other line.
"Who's this?" he asked.
"This is Manami. Who is this?"
"Uh... You may not remember me, but I'm the guy you bumped into three nights ago on the street."
A long pause came from the other line. Then, she gave a little chuckle on the phone. "Oh yeah, that! What exactly do you want?"
"Why did you give your number?"
"Maybe I wanted to see you again."
"Really now?"
"Why don't you come up to my apartment and see?"
"Okay. Where is that?"
"416, fourth floor of this building."
Darius paused in confusion. "Wait... you mean this apartment building?"
"Yeah."
"You live here?"
"Yeah."
"Wow," Darius mouthed to himself. "Well then, I guess I will be right up."
"I will be waiting."
"Okay, bye," Darius said before hanging up and heading out the door.
In three minutes, the soldier stood right at the Fallen Princess' front door and knocked on it. Manami opened it wide and greeted him with a tasty smirk.
"Welcome, I've been expecting you," she greeted him.
Next Night
Next Time: Jakob comes home for spring break to see Riza and their unborn child.
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