Five Time Venomania Was Murdered And One Time He Wished He Was

by Millennium_Girl

Summary:

Sorry Karchess, I love you, but let some other people murder Veno for a change. And yes, this fic is literally the harem girls getting revenge, and I think that's very awesome of them.

Notes:

• Inspired by Rhamnousia by Anonymous

Chapter 1: Lukana

   Lukana was quiet, moving through the stuffy air like she was little more than a ghost. In her hand was a dagger, golden like the sun she so desperately wanted to feel on her skin. She made her way into I.R's room, giving the woman a simple nod before tucking the parcel they had discussed under her arm and leaving. Once she was back in the main area, she unwrapped it, and had to muffle her delight at its contents.

   They were simple clothes, just a blouse and pair of pants, but along with them had come shoes, a rare luxury in her eyes. She slipped out of her dress and put on her clothes. There was no reason to go in another room; it would make too much noise and it wasn't like the other girls had never seen her naked. The bastard liked his threesomes too much for that.

   Once she had finished, she yanked off the choker, crushing the silk rose under her foot. To think she had fallen for his magic once, when he looked in her eyes on that dark and gloomy night. Not anymore. Not since I.R had gifted her this dagger, though back then it had been a rather innocuous key on a chain. It had been Yufina's once, though she doubted she would ever return it to the girl. She was unstoppable now, a god in human form. And she wasn't sure that could be given up.

   Slowly, she crept towards the door to the Duke's room, knife clutched tightly in her hand, vaguely aware of I.R's approving gaze boring into her back. She smiled softly as she entered the room, before her expression dissolved into dust at the sight ahead of her. Indeed, the Duke was asleep, seemingly for hours, but curled up against his chest was Lilien, peacefully oblivious to the true character of the man she held close.

   As Lukana drew ever closer, she sat down carefully on the bed, studying the two sleeping figures. Her friend was very clearly nude, while the man apparently had the privilege of getting to be clothed while he slept. Not that any of them had nightclothes, or any outfits aside from their now stained and worn dresses. It felt dehumanizing, to be denied even a change of clothes, and the spite was enough to drive Lukana into action.

   She brushed away a few strands of Lilien's hair, before slapping their collective tormentor awake, and sending him sprawling to the ground. Another bonus of her deal with 'Adam'. Not that she was complaining about super strength. The pathetic man cried out as he hit the floor, looking up at her confusedly. She pounced.

   Seconds later, Lilien was crying out in fear, while she held the shining dagger to the man monster's jugular. The man seemed to be crying to, desperately flailing as if to escape her wrath. She pressed the blade closer, enough to draw blood, though she didn't slit his throat yet. Not when he had so much to answer for.

   "Why?! Why did you do this, wicked man?! For your own pleasure?!" Red clouded her vision as she continued to inch the knife closer to his tanned skin. Her skin had been tan once, but she had not been outside in months. Perhaps years. He had to answer for this, along with all of his other crimes. Maybe she was being petty, but it was still a violation. A claim to her time and her body he had taken from her.

   "Lukana, sweetheart, surely we can-" He was cut off by a girl's guttural scream, one she only recognized later as Mikulia's. Poor Mikulia, who had been tricked and manipulated as much as they all had. She would make him pay for that too. But in the moment, she looked up and saw a crowd of women in the door, faces mingling and blurry, second to her all consuming rage.

   "No! NO! You are going to answer me, you-YOU ASSHOLE, and then you're going to DIE!" Her other hand, knotted in his hair, pulled it taught, and she burst out laughing when he cried out in pain. As if he hadn't done the same thing to every woman here, and ignored their pleading.

Kill him, Lukana. He won't listen, and the answer isn't worth it.

   She hesitated briefly, weighing her options, before the Duke's sigh of relief made her decision for her. No more hesitation. She would enjoy watching him bleed out, but she wasn't sure if she could bare to listen to him ramble on for his last moments.

   Lukana switched positions, all but straddling him in the name of being able to reach his vital organs.  She would end this quick, she thought, letting out a battle cry. She plunged her knife deep into his chest, before repeating the motion, over and over. That one was for Lilien, the next for Mikulia, for Gumina, for Maylis, for Rindo, for Yufina, for Carol, for...

    "GODDAMN IT, LOOK! LOOK AT THE WOMEN YOU HURT! SEE! YOU ARE A MONSTER!" He shook his head fervently as she raged, fierce as the desert winds. As if the proof of his actions was not right infront of him. As the color in his eyes began to fade and he coughed up blood, she buried the knife right between his eyes. That one was for her suffering. As she pulled it out, wiping the gilded weapon off on her pants, the spell broke, and the others began to run, presumably to escape him, though her own eyes were filled with murderous intent.

Wait. That Mikulia girl. Grab her doll and take it with you.

   She raised a questioning eyebrow, as if he were standing right next to her, before wiping the blood off her face best she could and stepping out of the room. Quickly, she scooped the twin tailed doll into her arms, before making to leave the accursed dungeon like the rest. On the way, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. The red went well with her hair.

Chapter 2: Mikulia

Summary:

A clockwork doll and a human, and the absolute chaos one decision can create.

Notes:

Arsonist Mikulia rights is all I'm gonna say. Interpret that how you will.

   Mikulia awoke from her slumber, rubbing away the sleep from her eyes. A devilish grin painted her face, as once more the window to the outside was wide open for her, as it always was at midnight. A woman stood outside expectantly, twirling her hair. Or at least, a very well made mockery of a woman did so. One whose skin was wood and whose mouth operated with a partially disguised hinge. Her teacher. Demon Mikulia, or Eve, as she had come to know her.

   She wriggled through the window, slowly closing the window behind them to hide her escape. She was met with the sweetest smile before she was enveloped in a tight hug, which she gratefully returned.

   "Mikulia! You ready to ditch this place?!" The woman bounced up and down, wooden joints creaking as she gave an affirming nod. They had planned this for a while, down to the minutia. She would take no chances when her freedom was just within reach, nor would Eve with her newfound protégé's safety. Not that either were particularly worries about being discovered, especially when one especially loud shriek of ecstasy from Maylis was heard from beyond the walls. Quietly, Eve muttered the words of an old song, before a ball of light began to float in her hand, illuminating their path.

    They would go to Held's Forest, they had decided. They would draw no looks of suspicion if they claimed to be on a pilgrimage, and the magic there was strong enough that it made the perfect schoolroom for her magic lessons. A small giggle escaped her lips as they ventured into the night. Soon, she would be a witch, just like in her stories. Only these two witches were the heroes of their tale, and would eventually free her friends from the spell cast upon them. She just hoped they'd be okay in the meantime.

.

    Mikulia loved magic. She loved the way it made her feel alive. The way she could feel the fire coursing through her veins, and how she could unleash it at will. Well, almost. She spent her days in the forest with Eve, learning better how to control it. Though lately they'd had to relocate to the beach, in case she set herself or someone else on fire and needed to be put out.

   Other days they'd talk, for hours on end. Mikulia would make up stories of fantastical places and dragons and princesses, weave tales of hope and tragedy, love and death. Her favorite characters included a witch, a prince, and a peasant girl, who would go on adventures with eachother and fall in love. Other characters would come and go, but those core three always remained, though they met in a variety of ways.

   Eve would talk about her past, and how she had come to inhabit the doll. She had a habit of jumping around, going from talking of her first meeting with Adam to their children's third birthday to Mikulia's great grandmother's love for exotic teas. But the way her eyes shone more than made up for it, bright enough to put the sun to shame. At least in Mikulia's opinion.

   They plotted too, planned how best to liberate her friends. More than once she had suggested storming in and setting the place ablaze, but those ideas were always vetoed. It would be best if they could escape any notice. Make it look like a freak accident, or an untimely sickness. And above all, Eve drilled in the importance of not revealing her magic to anyone besides those she explicitly trusted and those she would kill. Witch hunts were frequent, and neither of them particularly felt like being burned at the stake.

.

   They weren't, in fact, okay. Something her 'prince' would pay for dearly. She had honed her magic, and Eve had given her blessing. Mikulia had thought that meant happily ever after was in sight. And yet, when she ventured back into the basement, cloaked in invisibility of her own making, she could taste the bile rising in her throat. She noticed the window first, chained shut and boarded up.

  The second was a young girl. One who had no business being anywhere near this pit of depravity, and yet was sitting in her own little dress, bruises littering her shoulders. Her eyes darted back and forth nervously, as did everyone else's. She was reminded of the portrait she had seen of Eve's children, and how this actual child couldnt be much older. She recognized Lukana, and Maylis, and Gumina, but their expressions were nervous, as footsteps echoed down the hallway.

    Dear Levia, was that? Mikulia watched, frozen stock still in horror, as the duke led another young woman down the stairs. The literal queen of Marlon, to be exact. It wasn't hard to tell she was royalty, not when she was dressed in a gown that used more material than she had ever seen on her life, and had a golden key hanging from a chain around her neck. And that's when she knew. She needed that key like she had needed Eve's doll. It was a vessel.

   She barely restrained herself from reaching out and snatching the key right off the Queen's neck. She probably didn't even know it's worth, and even if she did, it wasn't hers! It was Eve's, because it could very well have her husband in it! Shakily, Mikulia drew a breath in. Yufina was not the enemy. The enemy was the woman in a black cloak named I.R and Venomania. And they would pay.

   I.R crossed the room, and her eyes were all but glued to the key the entire time. Shit (fun new word she had learned from Eve!!).

   "Your Majesty wouldn't mind if I borrowed this necklace, right?" Unease spread through the room as the woman fidgeting uncomfortably. Venomania, however, looked right at home, as if the sudden change in atmosphere from mildly nervous to extreme anxiety was as commonplace as breathing. She had promised Eve not to do anything rash. Mikulia was not as good with magic as I.R. These were facts. But there was one thing Mikulia outclassed her in. Physical strength.

   This was how she ended up punching I.R in the face, dropping her illusion spell, a mad grin on her face. Before she magically undid the clasp on the necklace and pocketed the key. Just for safekeeping of course. Officially at least. Mentally she was cheering at the acquisition of a vessel of sin. Even if this wasn't the right one, they could eventually find it through process if elimination.

   "Mikulia?! What are you- Huh?!" Venomania cried out, having released the queen and pressed himself against the opposite wall, only to be met with her crazed smile. No one here would tell, right? Just a little fire couldn't hurt, and besides, they'd all be too busy thanking her to realize she had used magic. Her thoughts were interrupted when her left side exploded in pain and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

   She tumbled to the ground, looking up to see I.R hovering over her, hand ablaze as she frantically put out the flames burning their way through her clothes and skin. A small flame flickered in her palm, before she launched a ball of white hot fire at the woman, paying no heed to the girl's behind them until her eye caught on Lukana trying to shield the younger girl from the fight, confusion evident on her face as one of her best friends flung magic at a sorceress. The locks came undone, as did the screw holding the boards in place, leaving the window as open as it had been the night of her escape.

   Mikulia had no more time to focus on them, not when a sword was being pointed at her. The duke apparently had at least one braincell, for he had drawn his sword and was now holding it a foot away from her, while I.R prepared to cast another spell. Her contract with Eve should somewhat protect her from I.R but Venomania's sword was a vessel. She was screwed.

   Frantically, she dove at the duke, narrowly weaving around his sword. Mikulia could feel the heat rising at her feet, and barely thought to wonder if it was the sorceress' spell or her own as she bit down hard on the man's skin, doing her best to gouge out his eyes with her hands. The burning feeling only continued, until she vaguely realized she had been completely consumed by flame.

   She didn't burn, but he did. She watched in shaky amusement as the man began to wilt like a mistreated flower, kicking his sword away from him as he crumpled to the ground. Mikulia almost forgot to release him, until she remembered she still had one opponent left.

   "Goodbye man of many words and few morals. May Held have no mercy on your soul." Her vision blurred as she turned to look behind her, only to find nothing. Stumbling, she clung to the necklace concealed in her pocket, hoping it was what held Adam. The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was a man with blue hair, stroking her hair as if she were simply napping.

.

Go away Irina. You've done enough already.

I need the vessel. I'm not leaving without it.

Yes you are. Take the sword and go.

Why should I?

Eve will be here soon. Is she really someone you want to fight?

Fine.

Goodbye Mother.

What?

Notes:

Can you tell Mikulia's my favorite?

Also, I had to rework this so many times, but no matter what she always ended up punching someone in the face lol. She's not even that strong, Irina is just in the body of some random fourteen year old and it shows

Also poor Yufina just cannot keep her family heirloom no matter what can she xD

Chapter 3: Gumina

Notes:

This has been sitting in my drafts, half done, since November 🤦‍♀️. In other news, motivation is doing its best to flee from me and never return, but before it inevitably disappears for a month or two, new chapter!

  Gumina was in love, and when people are in love, they do stupid things. That was her story, or, more accurately, her second story, in case the first didn't hold up. Best to plead insanity, than admit that she knew exactly what she was doing and what the consequences would be when she slowly mixed in paint thinner with Sateriasis's afternoon tea. 

   She wasn't sure when she had first "woken up" from the haze that blurred nearly a year's time. It had come gradually, moments stolen from whatever spell she had been put under, before the times where she felt more like an observer in her own body than an active participant grew few and farbetween. And when she had fully come to, in a crowded and dank basement with women she both knew well and had never met before, she knew that she needed to leave, get home. Figure out what had happened. 

    Sateriasis, her old friend, her captor, wouldn't let Gumina leave, and so. And so he had to die, both for her sake and for the sake of the girls she had begrudgingly grown close to, who she could only assume wanted to go home as much as she did. They lacked the power to act on it, and so she would for them.

   She brought him his tea, a smile plastered on her face as she sat beside him, cuddling up to his side like a needy kitten, begging for attention. Gumina's eyes never left the painted teacup, the instrument of his swift approaching demise. If only he could just take the cup and drink from it, down it in one gulp before he realized it's contents. But nothing had ever been simple with Sateriasis, even when they had been young. And so, instead of drinking his tea, he began to talk.

    "Did I ever tell you about the sorceress lady? She's been such a pain in the ass lately, but I haven't been able to- convince her to stay over. Hah." He laughed nervously at the end, averting his eyes as if he was scared she would be able to break free of the dark magic he had cast and glean what word he really meant just by looking at his eyes. Well, she supposed he wasn't completely wrong on that. 

   "Oh, I'm sure she'll come around! Who wouldn't, when you're so charming?" The words fell from her lips like lead, hollow platitudes stolen from another girl in an attempt to mimick the sugary sweetness the spell had coaxed from her. Gumina's stomach dip flips inside her, and she fought the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust, instead looking imploringly between Sateriasis and the teacup. He smiled and shook his head, trying and failing to mask his obvious relief.

  "But of course, my love. It's only a matter of time, I'm sure of it." He grinned, and Gumina had to fight the urge to simply pry his mouth open and pour the poisoned drink down his throat. For a second, it was as if it was Cherubim sitting beside her, sweet, gentle Cherubim who had been killed after his own brother's word for the crime of being who he was, where he was. Sweet, gentle Cherubim who would never know that she really hadn't meant what she had said to him, that she was trying to save him. Sweet, innocent, dead Cherubim who she had failed in every way you could fail a person. 

   Sateriasis downed the tea, and she smiled. Not a fake smile, a genuine smile, one of relief and sorrow and joy and freedom. He swallowed, and she knew it would all be done with soon, that he'd soon convulse on the floor as the paint thinner killed him slowly.

   He didn't. 
.

  "Cute attempt, but it's going to take more than that to kill him. I admire your drive though." The witch whispered to her, her hands methodically combing Mikulia's doll's hair, undoing the tangled knots in it's hair with surprising precision for someone who was also having a secret conversation. Gumina froze, her eyes darting over to the door to the basement, as if Sateriasis might have suddenly appeared in order to overhear their conversation, before looking back at the witch.

   "What would you suggest, then?" She asked, trying to keep her voice from cracking or shaking, like they were discussing the weather instead of her failed murder attempt. The witch, little more than a girl, giggled at her question.

   "Now why would I tell you that? I'm not quite sure how you broke out of the Demon of Lust's control, and as interesting as that is, I'm not sacrificing one of my key players to find out, if you could even tell me." The witch got up, dusting off her cloak and beginning to walk away, before Gumina grabbed her arm, tugging her back.

   "Please. I can give you whatever you want, just help me." Gumina wasn't quite sure what about her plea changed the witch's mind, not then and not even when she lay on her deathbed, years later. Still, the white haired girl's expression softened from cold indifference, and she shrugged.

   "I suppose his downfall is coming soon anyways, and I'm sure a place to crash, at the very least, would be helpful. I'm in."
.

   Gumina held his sword in her hand, gripping the velvet hilt like it might vanish if she didn't hold it tight as she could. I.R had shown her how to do it, how she needed to hold the sword and how much force she would have to use to drive it clean through him. She laughed, slightly, sat beside the Sateriasis on the bed. How many times, she wondered, had she had this same exact view, from their early days, when they would run themselves ragged through the woods before collapsing as soon as they reached home? This would be the last time, if everything went according to plan. She wasn't sure if she should be happy or sad.

   "Goodbye, old friend. Say hello to Cherubim for me," Gumina whispered, sword poised an inch above his neck. This would kill him, once and for all, contract or not, I.R had assured her. She doubted he would see Cherubim, though, not where he was going. She plunged the sword through the soft flesh of his throat, sending it all the way through bone. She watched as his eyes flew open, as he spasmed and failed, before he lost the ability for even that, and all was quiet.

   He was dead, finally. She was free, finally. No longer would he lord over her and the others, no longer would she be confined to the basement, his bedroom, and the hallway between, no longer would she be forced to play the part of devoted, lovesick girl. She was ecstatic, and for a second, the adrenaline got the best of her. Gumina leapt off the bed, jumping up and down giddily like a child on Christmas day. 

   And then she fell, and suddenly she was softly sobbing, looking down at the corpse of her only remaining friend from childhood, the boy who she had once shared sweets with at the fair and chased around the library on rainy days. She pulled the limp body over to her and off the bed, so she could cradle it close to her chest, even as part of her wanted to stomp on his head until his brain matter spilled on the floorboards. What a morbid sight they must be, murderess and victim sprawled on the floor.

   I.R stood in the doorway, watching her with a look not quite pity, not quite sympathy. Gumina didn't know how long she had been there, wasn't really certain she wanted to know, but she still came when the sorceress beckoned her to come, leaving the corpse of Sateriasis behind. The other woman talked, but Gumina could make out virtually none of it over the storm of emotions in her brain. She could barely stand on her own two feet.

   Maybe that was why, when she spared her old friend, her old captor one last glance, she was almost sure she saw Cherubim lying there on the floor.

Notes:

😭😭 Poor Gumina