But sometimes you just have to be disgusted.
—The Cruel Ivy Killer
Violet was covered in blood again. More than she had been so far, actually. Except perhaps from her own injuries. It was gross, to say the least. She was going to run out of clean clothes, at this rate, and she couldn’t wash her hands for hours yet, even if she was lucky. The murder hadn’t actually been too bad. Daniel’s constitution attribute clearly hadn’t been one of his best. Even Violet’s low strength managed to break through it in only three hits with a crystal hammer. She’d gotten her face and shirt bloody enough, but that hadn’t caused the real mess. The problem was—she couldn’t leave the body slumped against the wall with a caved-in skull. She had to drag it to the collapsed tunnel and destroy the actually lethal wound. It had been… vile work. Crushing, and smearing, and cracking. Just to make it look like he’d been crushed in the collapse. With no life left in Daniel’s eyes, the violence had become manual labor and greasy meat, and Violet didn’t enjoy that at all.
But the mess would let her explain the blood on the wall, if anyone noticed the spatter of red on red. The filth also helped keep her mind busy. It wasn’t a pleasant distraction, but it was a distraction. She once again had a strange cocktail of emotion mixing in with all the blood. The expected elation was there. The near manic high she was learning to crave buzzed under her skin like electricity. It was even stronger than usual, in fact. The absolute authority she’d had over Daniel was… euphoric. Even as it faded… even as she went about the disgusting work of covering the evidence, she wanted to feel it again.
But the shame was there, too. And it was exactly what she’d worried it would be. It was magnitudes more severe than the shallow guilt she’d felt after killing the ones who’d wronged her. Daniel really had been innocent. The panic and the fear had felt so good to create, and they felt so sickening to remember. But not quite sickening enough that she wasn’t already wondering when she could draw the same reactions out of someone else. It was all very confusing to work through. So she thought of the blood, and how horribly she needed a shower. She’d already been sweating all day. Bleeding and working, and now she was absolutely covered with filth. It made her want to gag a little. Even so, it amused her to be so stained by the blood of a man who should have been a danger to her. She was lucky he was too afraid to tell anyone about her while she was around. He’d been biding his time, waiting for a safe moment to reveal the truth. And now his blood was ruining her shirt. It was disgusting, and it was… warm.
Either way, it was done. Her decision had been made. She would kill an innocent person to remain free. To stay in control. And she felt the shame, but the more she focused on the mess, the easier it was to push it down. She could ignore it. She’d ignored far less pleasant emotions in the past. The shame would just be like physical pain was to her—when she had to bear it. A necessity, and one she could wear as long as she needed to. She stretched her arm out, exhausted from the labor, however brief it had been. She was finally alone, which meant she finally had a chance to do something she’d wanted to do since she’d killed Stephanie, and felt her attributes grow. She leaned against the same wall Daniel had been sitting against when he’d died, looked over to her side, and pressed her palm into the ground. The empathy ring reacted immediately, and her soul was once again displayed on several branches of a tree-like design.
Violet Asher
Category [Red]
Calling
Degree {8}
Attributes
Agility (124)
Constitution (55)
Dexterity (98)
Endurance (62)
Perception (169)
Resistance (78)
Strength (45)
Bloodlust (361)
She didn’t care about her talents or calling description. Those were unchanged. But the attributes made her smile. It was no wonder she was reacting so quickly. Agility at 124? Perception at 169? It hadn’t even been a month since these were all negligible numbers. She was getting strong, and it was happening quickly. She could hardly wait to break into category orange. Or, hell, perhaps she’d even make it to violet. It was her name, after all. She wondered how many people she would have to kill to get that far. How much control she would need to have. How much blood she would get to spill. Her mouth tasted like iron and copper, like the blood on her lips. As she thought of it, the taste grew stronger, and an urgent anticipation started to build inside her. And with every second that the anticipation grew, the shame struggled just a little more for her attention. While she allowed herself to revel, just a bit, the shame got ever easier to ignore.
And then she heard it. Footsteps. They were far away, still, but someone was coming. Violet was impressed with how well she could make the sounds out. The urgency and the care that went into moving or pushing past rubble. She knew exactly who it was. Aubrey was making her way back to them. To her.
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Violet had started the soft sobbing well before Aubrey arrived. It wasn’t so hard. Violet had control over her expression, and the shame actually helped with this bit. Even that could be a tool of control, she was realizing. She threw herself into it. She curled up in the fetal position, on the ground, and near the ruined body. Lying in the blood wasn’t pleasant, but it would help explain exactly how much she had on her when she was found. She let her throat hurt with weeping. She let water run into blood from her mouth as much as her eyes, and her entire body jerked and rattled in the grip of supposed grief.
That was what Aubrey found—when she finally made it back. A broken, bloody Violet, unable to separate herself from the corpse of the boy she’d failed.
“Oh Jesus!” Aubrey whispered as soon as she made it into the chamber. The red light shining through crystal made it hard to see the blood at first, but Violet’s formerly clean shirt told the story. “Violet! Violet, are you alright?” Aubrey practically begged as she rushed to Violet’s side. She fell to her knees next to the wailing girl, her hands meeting the shaking body and searching for wounds. At least, until she saw Daniel. He’d been hidden at first. Much of him still was—under piles of crystal rubble. Not that Aubrey would want to see it if she could.
“I–I tried!” Violet insisted through sobs. “I tried to save him. I did everything I could! He couldn’t keep up, and I pulled, and pulled, and ran, and ran, but I couldn't do it! I couldn’t get him out! I–I wasn’t strong enough! I tried! I tried. I tried. I tried…” Violet repeated, over and over. Her voice grew weaker. It cracked under each repetition, and Aubrey cracked a little with it. Aubrey realized the other girl wasn’t wounded, at least not physically. So she pulled her from the body, and out of the blood.
“I know!” Aubrey answered. “I know you did! You did everything you could! It’s not your fault! It’s not! Remember what you said to me? It wasn’t your responsibility! You did everything you could!” Violet whirled on her furiously, and Aubrey fell backward as her effort to pull the girl was suddenly turned against her.
“I PROMISED HIM!” Violet screamed. “I FUCKING PROMISED HIM! He was scared, Aubrey! He was terrified! He didn’t want to come here, and we convinced him to anyway! I convinced him to! It was my idea to come here! And I promised we would all get out of here alive! I swore I would save all of us! I gave him hope, and it was a goddamn lie! What do you mean, it’s not my fault? I promised to save him, and I let him die! I LET HIM DIE IN PAIN. He was screaming, Aubrey! He was screaming when he first got caught, and even then, I couldn’t save him! He was screaming!”
Violet had started to hit the wall with her fist as she descended into sobs once again. Aubrey had to catch the smaller girl’s arms to stop her. She pulled Violet into a tight hug, holding Violet’s head against her shoulder. Violet fought, at first, but once Aubrey’s arms were wrapped around her, she let herself melt into the embrace. She had no more words, offering only an agonized wailing.
“Violet. I understand. I do. But you were right. We’re just scared kids. We never should have needed to come to this nest. We never should have needed to make that choice! And you were right that our mistakes will live with us for the rest of our lives. But you were also right that we can’t blame ourselves, Violet. We can’t. I killed a woman, but you? You didn’t hurt anyone. You tried to help, and you failed. And that’s alright, okay? It’s alright,” Aubrey said. She didn’t really know what to say. She was basically just repeating Violet’s words back to her. But it was all she could think to do. And Violet’s only response was to cry.
They stayed like that. For maybe ten seconds. Maybe thirty. Perhaps for an entire hour. But it was Violet who finally ended it, whenever it was.
“We have to go,” she whispered with a hoarse voice. “Kiera is still out there, and so is the heart. We have to go.” And that was all it took. Both girls had ruined their clothes with Daniel's blood. Both believed they had earned the blood on their hands. One of them even wished she hadn’t. But both of them left the remains of Daniel behind.
Aubrey had found a way up. At least, if she had Violet’s talent and the rope. When she wasn’t even searching for it. She’d found it while trying to make it back to Daniel and Violet. While repeating Violet’s words to herself. She wouldn’t sacrifice anyone. Not one. No matter who. And yet…
“You know, something about being down here makes me really angry," Aubrey suddenly said, breaking a long silence.
“W-What?” Violet asked.
“Yeah,” Aubrey continued awkwardly. “I don’t know why, but it makes me see red.” Violet paused.
“I’m… sorry?” Violet asked. Her voice was quiet and confused, and Aubrey started to regret saying anything at all.
“No, I’m sorry. It’s just… outside the nest. You said you weren’t having fun but… retaking control. By joking, I mean. I just thought… never mind,” Aubrey sighed. Violet stared at her for a moment. And then she let out a single laugh. And then another. And another, until she was nearly hysterical at the stupid pun.
“That’s what you went with?” Violet laughed. “Oh, God, is that what I sound like?” Aubrey blushed, but she smiled at the same time. She knew the pain of Violet’s failure to save Daniel must still be there. But she’d gotten the girl to laugh. She was starting to understand Violet, she thought. She felt guilty for treating her poorly, just because of one fight the girl was having with her boyfriend. She’d really misjudged her, and giving her something to laugh at was the smallest preparation she could manage. But it was something.
“I thought it was funny,” Aubrey grumbled. Violet finally offered something like her signature smile to her. It wasn’t quite right. Like a poorly hung painting. But she was wearing it.
“And you were right. Please, don’t keep any more to yourself, if you think of them,” Violet assured. She sniffled in the wake of her tears. But Aubrey had given her the chance to wear a brave face again, and that was something.
“I don’t know if I can…” Aubrey replied. “It’s embarrassing. I’m… turning red already.” Violet laughed again, shaking her head as she did.
“Thanks, Aubrey. I appreciate the effort,” Violet said. The jokes may not have been good, but they had been spoken at a good time. Violet was growing bored of moping, after all.
The thanks was enough to push Aubrey forward in turn, and she continued toward the hole she’d found earlier with a slightly lighter heart. She couldn’t process everything that had happened that day. But she could start making up for it. And she could get Violet, the kind and selfless girl she’d misjudged, back to safety.
For Violet’s part, well. She was having an excellent time.
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