//------------------------------//
// Ch.7 Guilty 
// Story: An Anon-a-Miss Persona 
// by Arcanum -Phantasy 
//------------------------------//

Chills. That was what Sunset felt. Not joy. Not anger. She felt chills as she stared down her nose at the one currently facing judgement. The fiery-haired teen sat in a golden throne, a cold frown hidden behind a red ivory mask. Said mask was shaped into that of a snarling demon's face with curved horns jutting from its top and long fangs peeking past its lips. A finely woven golden gown covered her form, its fine silk glowing like heated metal. Her eyes held an indifference colder than the darkest void, boring into the soul of the poor girl that laid on the ground before her. 
Eight massive golden pillars held the throne room together, each decorated with carving depicting the ruler of The Abyss in various states of despair. The walls and vaulted ceiling were made of solid ruby, all of them filling the room with a blood-red light. In contrast, the floor was covered with polished black tiles, their surface reflecting the scene like a dark mirror. Laying on the ground, crying and covered with countless deep gashes, was a gray teen with messy blond hair. A small pack of Jurors surrounded her, giggling and flexing their clawed fingers with eager anticipation. Unlike the ones wandering the rest of The Abyss, the giggling terrors were dressed in fine black gowns instead of the tattered rags normally seen on their ilk. 
"P.....Please.....st-stop," the girl begged, her misaligned yellow eyes staring up at Sunset. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"I know," Sunset intoned. "But that does not exempt you from punishment."
"P....Punishment?" the girl asked, shivering under her cold gaze. "For what? Wh....What did I do?"
"It wasn't what you did, but what you didn't do," she stated, a hint of venom creeping into her arctic tone. "While I was being abused for crimes that I did not commit, you watched from the sidelines. I even remember you giving me a look of smug satisfaction the last time I was shoved into a locker. It took hours for Vice-Principal Luna to get me out of there and when she did, you refused to tell her who the culprit was."
Ditzy stared up at her, terror and guilt showing plainly across her blood-stained face.
"The beating you just received is only the start of your punishment," Sunset continued, her eyes lazily turning towards the large brass double doors at the other end of the room. "Perhaps spending a week as someone's plaything would be a suitable punishment."
Before Ditzy could voice any disagreement, Sunset roared, "JUNIPER! COME!"
A second later, the doors flew open and a black cloaked figure skipped merrily into the room. The figure was short, roughly two feet tall, but its cloak hid any other features. Childish, girly giggles could be heard from the figure, purely innocent,  but unnerving in a completely different way from the ones produced by the Shadows in the room. 
Ditzy's heart sank when she saw the Jurors backing away from the figure. The distancing became more frantic the closer the figure got to the throne. When the figure stopped next to the battered girl, the Shadows were cowering in fear against the far walls.
"You called?" the figure asked, her voice holding the curious high pitch of a small child.
"Yes, Juniper," Sunset frowned. "For the next seven days, this girl is your new playmate. You are free to do whatever you like with her."
"Whatever I want?" Juniper asked, slowly turning her hooded head towards the downed girl.
Even in the deep shadows of Juniper's hood, Ditzy could feel the small girl's sadistic smile.
"Within reason," Sunset clarified. "Her crimes are not severe enough to justify an execution."
Juniper looked up at Sunset with a disappointed "Aw," then crossed her arms in a huff.
"Please....don't do this," Ditzy pleaded, tears sliding down her face. "I'll...I'll do anything! Please!"
"Anything?" Sunset pressed.
Ditzy nodded, a hint of desperate hope shining in her eyes.
"Well...there is one thing I want."
"I'll get it for you, I promise!" Ditzy cried.
"Do you mean that?"
"YES!"
Sunset stared her down for a few long seconds, her face impossible to read behind her mask. Then, with a cruel smirk that was barely audible, she made her request.
"Tell me the name of Anon-a-Miss."
All hope instantly fell out of Ditzy's face the second those words reached her ears. Sunset patiently waited for the girl to keep up her end of the bargain, knowing full well that she had her trapped.  The chill from before filled her again, only now it held a bit of sadistic glee. Which route would Ditzy take? Would she lie and add to the crimes against her or would she tell the truth and receive a lighter sentence? She could practically see the tug-o-war going on in the girl's head as the seconds slowly turned into agonizing minutes. 
Eventually, with her head hanging low, the girl choked out an answer.
"I...can't. I don't know who it is...."
A hint of disappointment crept into Sunset's battered heart. There were so many interesting punishments that she wanted to recommend to Juniper. A waisted opportunity, but she could at the very least give Ditzy some credit in being honest. It was more than she could say for the wastes of air she used to call her friends. 
"Make that six days," Sunset amended. 
"POO!" Juniper cried, lifting a pair of tangerine fists into the air in defiance.
"Shall I give her to Snap Dragon?" Sunset pointedly asked.
"I'll be good," Juniper grumbled, dropping her hands to her sides.
"Very well," she nodded. "Now, get to work."
"Yes, Greater Judge Sunset," Juniper chirped with a bow.
The second the small being straightened her posture, she pointed her palm at Ditzy. A jet black manacle and matching chain shot out of the being's open sleeve. Ditzy didn't have time to yelp before the cold metal snapped into place around her neck. Humming merrily to herself, Juniper made her way back towards the throne room's giant double doors. At the same time, Ditzy desperately clawed at her restraint, kicking and thrashing as she was dragged further towards her fate. Her eyes never left Sunset, tears pouring down her face as she begged for her freedom, screaming that she was sorry for everything she had done.
"I know you're sorry," Sunset coldly stated, staring unblinkingly into the panicking girl's eyes. "I just don't care."
Any further protests were cut short as the doors slammed shut, filling the room with a thundering echo. When it passed, a fragile silence took its place. So fragile, that a dejected sigh felt almost as loud as a scream. 
With her head propped up on her throne's armrest with a fist, she took off her mask. She stared at it with a look of cold contemplation, a mild hint of irritation slowly settling in her core. Punishing the students had been fun the first six times, but it was very quickly starting to lose its charms. On top of that, none of the students brought to her had any useful information on who Anon-a-Miss was. 
Her grip on the mask tightened.
That was her real main goal.
The Abyss did exist to punish those who had wronged others, but Anon-a-Miss was the one she was especially eager to judge. It was the one person in the whole Abyss that she was willing to execute and do it with her own bare hands at that. There were nights that she would stay up planning how she would do it. She wanted it to be long. She wanted it to be painful. She wanted them to beg her to end them, only to suffer the same pain they put her through again, and again, and again, and again, AND AGAIN!
"Calm yourself m'lady," a female voice echoed. "Your rage will burn you at this rate."
Sunset blinked, finally noticing the angry red energy swirling around herself. Straightening her posture, she took long, soothing breaths. Slowly, she found her center and as she did, the energy faded away. 
"Thank you, Alecto." 
"As you need me, I shall come," the persona intoned, a tiny hint of compassion creeping past her stoic cadence.
A brief flicker of a smile graced Sunset's lips before a tired frown took its place. 
"I'm thirsty," she sighed, resuming her studies of her mask. "Bring me a drink!"
One of the Jurors flinched, then ran to its mistress's side. In a puff of black smoke, an ornate wine bottle and glass appeared in its claws. With slightly muffled giggles, it poured the bottle's ebon contents into the glass and presented it to her. Sunset accepted the offering, eyes still locked onto her mask as she brought the glass to her lips.
"Why did you choose to don such a thing?" Alecto asked. "The guilty already fear you, do they not?"
"You're me, right?" Sunset sighed, savoring the bittersweet tang of her drink. "Then you know that, that isn't the point. Ever sense the Fall Formal, I've done everything I could think of to prove to these....things that I wasn't a monster anymore. Well, if they still want to see me as a monster, then that is exactly what they are going to get. The only difference now is that I'm done pretending that they're any better than me."
"To punish monsters is to become one yourself."
"Exactly," she said, a cold smile creeping onto her face. 
"And the Hunter?"
Sunset shrugged, taking another long pull from her glass.
"Prosecutors may be powerful, but sometimes you need a more human way of thinking to catch people."
"You consider her human?" Alecto asked, incredulity coloring her tone.
She took a longer pull from her glass, a pleasant chill running down her spine as she felt the black liquid settle in her gut. She stayed silent, savoring the pleasant feeling for as long as she was allowed. When it passed, she casually returned the now empty glass to her server to have it refilled. While she waited, she allowed a sinister smile spread across her face before she gave her answer.
"Well, she is one.....technically."


***


The streets were as silent as a tomb, the red moon soaking the area with an ominous aura so thick, it was choking. This was especially true in the more suburban parts of the City of Pain. While not as common as it was in the city's heart, there were still Jurors that patrolled the area for easy prey. That was the one constant that those who took shelter in the area could count on. Complete silence was new, and to a particular trio of young teen girls, that was not a good sign. 
Said trio sat in a dark bedroom, one of them nervously peeking out of the window while her companions sat with their backs against the wall opposite of her, each trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. The one by the window was dark orange with a messy mop of violet hair. Her black shirt and blue jeans were tattered and hung loosely on her scrawny frame. Her lavender eyes were locked onto the empty streets beyond the window, its ratty curtains barely hiding her from sight. One of her companions was a yellow girl with a long head of red hair tied into a ponytail with a ripped pink bow. Her shirt was a light green flannel shirt with long sleeves rolled up past her elbows. Instead of pants, she wore a pair of faded blue overalls and heavy brown boots. Her orange eyes were set on the girl by the window, her toned body wound up tight like a pressed spring. The third girl in the room was equally tense, but struggling a lot more than her friends against the urge to panic. Her skin was a soft alabaster hue and her short curly locks were a two-toned mix of purple. She wore a pink blouse and lavender skirt that would've added a kind of high-society flare to her if they weren't currently stained with dirt and black blood. Her emerald eyes flicked back and forth between her two friends, both of her hands covering her mouth in an attempt to muffle her whimpering.
The yellow girl mentally cringed at the state of her friend's clothing, before conceding that all of them were in the same boat when it came to damage. Dirt and black blood covered each of them in spattering patches, along with various shallow gashes across their arms, legs, and chests from the few times the monsters caught them off guard. These were only a handful of the trophies the trio had managed to earn over the last couple of weeks.
With a shaky southern drawl, the yellow girl turned her head towards her friend by the window and softly whispered, "See anythin' Scootaloo?"
Scootaloo shook her head, eyes still locked onto the outside world. 
The redhead nodded in acknowledgement at that before shifting her attention to her more rattled friend.
"Are you okay, Sweetie?" she whispered.
Sweetie shook her head, her whole body violently shaking.
The redhead frowned, then carefully made her way towards her friend. Taking a seat next to her, she pulled the trembling girl into welcomed hug. She softly stoked Sweetie's hair as she cried into her chest, shuddering muffled hiccups breaking the heavy silence. 
"I can't take this anymore," Sweetie sniffled. "I want to go home, Applebloom! I want to go home!"
"Ah know, Sweetie," Applebloom sighed. "We all do, right Scootaloo?"
"Yeah," Scootaloo sadly whispered, keeping her vigil.
While Sweetie continued to weep, Applebloom found herself trying to make sense of their current situation. The night before they came to this world, the three girls had decided to have a sleepover at Sweetie Belle's place. After uploading a few more secrets to the Anon-a-Miss account, they fell asleep watching videos on their phones. When they awoke the next morning, it was in a rotted bed in an equally worn replica of Sweetie's home. When they investigated both the house and neighborhood, they quickly discovered just how dangerous this world was. They likely would have not lived long enough to regret it if fate hadn't decided to lend them a hand.
Remembering that, one of Applebloom's hands drifted to her overalls' pocket, her fingers lightly tracing over the key-shaped indent in the denim. Before she could say anything to help her friend, a faint rattling caught her attention. Her friends also noticed, both of them trading worried glances with her. With a stiff nod, she signaled for Scootaloo keep looking while they regathered their supplies.
While her friends quietly and quickly loaded a trio of backpacks, Scootaloo looked frantically for the new sound's source. At the same time, the rattling gradually grew louder, a slowly repeating pattern of ch-chink....ch-chink....ch-chink seemingly announcing the presence of something closing in on their location. By the time her friends had managed to finish packing, the sound had become defined enough for her to identify.
It was the sound of rattling chains.
Her very soul froze the second the sound's source walked into view.
Slowly walking down the middle of the road was a lone humanoid figure. It was slim with some obvious female features and was roughly the same hight as her friends' sisters, but those were the only aspects its clothes allowed Scootaloo to gain about the figure. Said clothing consisted of a frayed shirt, pants, boots, gloves, and long overcoat that came down to the being's knees. All of it was black, a fact that made the tweed sack that covered the being's head stand out even more than it should have. It was just as withered as the rest of the creature's clothes with a single hole cut into place where its left eye should be. Thick iron chains were wrapped loosely around its arms and legs, all of them rattling with each slow step the being took. All of the creature's features put her on edge, but one thing about it held her attention more than the rest. 
Slung casually over its shoulder was a large, black and red, dual-bladed, battle ax.
Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach when the figure stopped in front of their shelter, its whole body unnaturally still as it faced down the road. She wanted to look away, she wanted to run, but her body refused to listen to her. On some primal level, she knew that the creature was too dangerous to let out of her sight. 
Unfortunately, she couldn't fight the reflex that made her turn her head when Applebloom put a hand on her shoulder.
"W-What is it?" Applebloom softly asked.
Scootaloo brought a finger to her own lips and shushed her, then froze when she heard two sounds. 
The first was a heavy footstep. The second was the rattling of chains. Both were just outside of the window.  When she slowly turned her head back towards the window, she saw a tweed covered face staring back at her, a bloodshot lavender eye peeking out of a single eye-hole locked onto her. 
As the figure raised her axe, both girls grabbed Sweetie and practically dragged her out of the room. A scream full of rage and madness shattered the silence, along with the thundering crash when the axe destroyed the wall on contact. The three girls ran as fast as they could, each struggling to pull their keys out of their pockets. At the same time, the Hunter ran through the house, her axe tearing the walls apart as if they were made of wet paper. Panic flooded their veins the longer they heard her scream, the whole world passing around them in a swirl of hazy color while they frantically tried to find the exit. When they did, they tackled the rotting barrier down and didn't stop running. They doubled their efforts when they heard the house collapse, along with the rattling of chains start to close in on them. They're struggle to get their keys out of their pockets became more desperate the closer the rattling got. It was just as the Hunter was about to grab Sweetie that one of them finally managed to succeed.
"Hestia! Help!"
As she said that, Applebloom turned and pointed her key at the Hunter. The sun-marked card that decorated the key's chain flashed and the young girl's Persona materialized between the trio and the monster. Said being was a slim-fit woman just entering her early twenties in age. Her skin was a burning red while her eyes were solid orange orbs of light. In place of hair, she had thin branches growing from the top of her head in a manner similar to a crown. Covering her lithe form was a golden female toga and in her right hand she held an orange scepter toped with the same golden fire that covered her body.
The Hunter spared the Persona a passing glance before she took a swing at it with her axe. Hestia blocked it with her scepter, flinching from the force of the blow. Applebloom did the same, a sharp pain echoing through her arms all the way to her shoulders. Rattling breaths came out of the Hunter, before she let out another maddening scream that chilled their souls. Screaming like a wild animal, she pulled back her weapon, then let loose an insane flurry of swings. Hestia blocked them, but the strain of doing so was becoming more apparent on her face. The same could be said for Applebloom, pained gasps falling out of her as she clutched her sides. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to endure and tried to focus on her Persona.
"Burn it, Hestia!" she demanded.
Nodding, the Persona took a deep breath, and exhaled a searing torrent of orange flames. The Hunter's scream held a bit of pain, but that was replaced with bloody fury a second later. Still burning, the monster punched clean through the Persona's stomach. Hestia let out a pained gasp before she faded away, while her mistress fell to her knees. The pain Applebloom felt was beyond anything she could describe. She couldn't move. She couldn't breath. The corners of her vision started to turn dark. Just as the Hunter reached out for her, she heard Scootaloo shout something that eased her heart.
"Blast her, Nike!" 
A second later, her friend's Persona slammed into the Hunter with enough force to send her flying into a nearby house. Like Hestia, Nike was a woman that looked to be in her early twenties and wore a golden female toga, but that was were the similarities ended. Her build was lean, but toned in a way only a runner could achieve with skin made of polished silver. Her hair was long and made of the same glowing gold as her eyes. On her back was a pair of shining platinum wings, both of them spread wide in a show of defiance. 
Like her Persona, Scootaloo stood in front of her friend, the star marked card on her key's chain glowing as bright as Nike.
"Are you okay, Applebloom?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of the destroyed home. "Can you get up?"
"Ah....Ah think so," she gasped, staggering to her feet.
Before Scootaloo could comment on that, the Hunter shot out of the house, axe raised and howling bloody murder. Learning from her friend's mistake, Scootaloo willed Nike to go on the offensive. With lightning covering her body, the Persona rocketed towards the Hunter. Faster than even her mistress could track, the Persona unleashed a hail of electrically charged punches into the monster. Stunned by the blows, the Hunter watched as Nike gathered some electricity into her hand, then slammed it into her target's chest. The Hunter screamed as she was shot back from the blast, but at around the five-foot mark, one of the chains on her arms planted itself in the ground, halting her flight. Landing on her feet, the Hunter instantly closed the distance. Nike tried to dodge the monster's attacks, but found that her opponent was much faster than both her and her mistress originally thought.
Scootaloo clenched her teeth, holding back her screams every time the Hunter's weapon grazed her Persona. The blows came faster and faster by the second, their power cracking the ground each time they missed. All the while, the Hunter continued to howl with maddened fury. That was what truly affected her. It was as if that howl was eating away at her own sanity, pushing away everything, but the panicked urge to flee. Just before the urge had a chance to overtake her, she heard Sweetie add herself to the fight.
"Help her, Terpsichore!"
A soothing aria filled the air, easing the pain and madness plaguing the two girls, before a constant howling gale pushed their attacker back a couple steps. Sweetie ran to her friend's side, key in hand and a shimmering blue falcon on her shoulder. She lightly pressed the tip of her key into Scootaloo's arm, the moon-marked card hanging off of said key's chain glowing light blue as the rest of girl's pain faded away.
"Took you long enough," Scootaloo, smirked. 
"My key got stuck in my pocket," she mumbled.
A sharp peck on the head from her Persona got her attention just in time to see the Hunter take a step. She glared at the monster, then pressed her key into Applebloom's shoulder. Once she was fully recovered, the downed girl summoned her Persona as well.
"Leave. Us. ALONE!" she screamed, pouring everything she had into the spell.
With that, Terpsichore's glow turned blinding and the gale turned into an impenetrable wall of air. All four of the Hunter's chains latched onto the ground, a howl of pure hate cutting through the wind's own. Sweetie grit her teeth, willing everything she had into getting rid of the monster. 
The Hunter refused to surrender, her rage burning hotter the longer she eyed her pray. With a free hand, she reached into the confines of her coat. When her hand came out, it was clutching a jagged obsidian dagger, a skull and scythe marked card hanging from its handle by a thick gray chain. She stabbed the dagger into the side of her head and screamed three words that chilled the girls to their bones.
"MURDER THEM! CERBERUS!!!"	
A second later, the Hunter's own Persona materialized beside her. Like the beast of legend, it was a massive three-headed dog, easily fifty feet tall at the shoulder. Instead of fur, the creature was covered with green and lavender flames. Jet black crystals made its claws and fangs, each of them half a foot long and sharp as razors. Its three pairs of obsidian eyes locked onto the CMC, full of rage and a hunger that could never be satisfied. They could only watch in horror as Cerberus opened its three maws. Dark energy washed over them, tearing through Sweetie's spell as if it wasn't even there. Pain couldn't even begin to describe what they felt. It was as if they had been thrown into a sea of acid, but their bodies were just strong enough to not be destroyed. When the darkness passed, they laid completely still on the ground, still alive, but completely numb to their surroundings.
Both the Hunter and her Persona stared down at them, a small hint of satisfaction creeping into her madness. Pulling the knife out of her head, she dispelled her Persona and took a step towards her prey. That was as far as she got before a blast of fire sent her flying into a house. Seconds l later, three gray-cloaked figures shot out of a nearby home, grabbed the downed girls and their keys, then ran further down the street. A fourth figure ran out of the shadow of another house to follow them, the glint of a key still present in their hand before they pocketed it.
The interlopers were already long gone by the time the Hunter recovered. When she stepped out of the damaged house, she sent out a small pulse of power to see if she could find her targets. When that failed, she slowly turned her head towards the sky. Trembling, she slammed her axe deep into the ground and let out a furious scream.