Frontier Town Civic Courtyard

[canisaries]

Andre froze, caught too off guard by what was happening to resist. He was expecting disgust - or, less likely, a 'hell yeah' - but not this.

"Wh- the Combs?" he got out, his little deer heart racing. "The Combs just showed me some random shit from Ridley's life. I didn't learn anything about you over there." Although he was now very, very curious. But he knew it would have been a very poor idea to ask right now.

 

[Sinderella]

Her eyes bore into his, willing some sort of answer that would stop her from beating his head in. She almost couldn’t hear his response over the blood pulsing against her ears, or the ragged breaths tearing their way out of her lungs.

However, when his answer registered with her, the rage was scooted off her face by a slowly rising horror. “You…you didn’t see anything from my…?” she tried to ask, the words petering out as her tongue started to dry up again. Then why had he…?

Was this just a coincidence? Had he just decided to drop this information on her just because he needed someone else to clue in for Ridley’s ultimatum? He just happened to be a serial killer of abusers who sought her, a victim of abuse, out to let her know about his affairs by complete luck of the draw?

She loosened her grip on him, eyes focusing on the shock on his face as she took a step back. She couldn’t decide what to put all of her upset energy into; the fact that she really did empathize with him, or the fact she’d just put herself on blast for him. Regardless, both would garner the same reaction.

Odette, I think you might be having a psychotic break.

She spun away from Andre, Moltres’s wrathful flames cascading down her arms. The word “FUCK!” clawed out of her in a scream, and she let the fire loose on the closest bush she could find, watching with wide eyes and clenched teeth as it disintegrated into nothing more than a pile of ash and charred twigs.

They could fine her for damages. She didn’t care.

She breathed out the rest of her frustration, eventually settling into pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. She hoped the gesture would help pause her brain, but the thoughts continued to tear through her mind like a tornado through a cornfield. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

When she was sure she was mostly composed, smoldering eyes cut back to Andre, glaring smoke, daggers, and reluctant curiosity at him.

“How many?” she bit out. “And what had they done?”

 

[canisaries]

Andre watched with unease as the mawile torched the bush. He hoped that wouldn't be him soon.

At her question, he swallowed and cleared his throat. "As of now... nine. They'd done... physical and verbal abuse - on exes, siblings, pokémon on their team. Sexual grooming, harassment, assault. Hate crimes on the street. And all were unrepentant. All of them."

But there were more, weren't there?

"Then... two more," he said, speaking fast, feeling the heat of Odette's eyes boring into him. "One I paid for a hit on. That was the first one. He was my little sister's ex who abused and extorted her. Then another... another was bragging about rape in a bar. When I saw him on the street, I couldn't let him get away. I stabbed him with his own knife."

 

[Sinderella]

First it was nine. Then it was 11. More than her.

Hate crimes, grooming, assault, abuse, extortion, rape. Deserved.

He hired a hit on one of them. The one he seemed to be closest to, so maybe that was to better cover tracks? Why did it matter? He hired a fucking hitman to kill someone; that’s illegal. Bad.

But it was someone deplorable; someone who deserved it.

The thought of someone, like Deschamps, doing what he did, then going to a bar to brag about it? With the amount of victims he had, who’s to say he didn’t ever do that? Why hadn’t anyone ever fucking stabbed him with his own knife?

Deserved. Deserved.

MONSTER.

“One you paid for a hit on…” she repeated, reaching up to rub her forehead. So much for giving her something to help her not think about the Combs. She was thinking about them more than she had been to start.

“Why? I understand…or…I can parse the thing with your sister. But the others? Do you just off these fuckers for fun? You’re a psychopath with an MO for hunting other psychopaths? Or are you—” She choked over the word, and held her fingers over her mouth to compose herself.

“Did something happen to you?”

 

[canisaries]

Psychopath. Yeah. Everyone he told thought he was a psychopath. Did that mean that he really was one? No. He wasn't a psychopath. He would explain to Odette exactly why he wasn't.

Then Odette finished what she was saying with a curveball.

“Did something happen to you?”

"Wh... no," Andre said, confused. "No, nothing happened to me. I just..."

He sighed. "Let me explain. I do not do this for fun. This isn't some kind of game I play to get sick kicks." Then why do you paint when they're suffering? "I do this because these people need to go away. I need to make sure they never hurt anyone again. I... have to. Because I seem to be the only one capable of doing it."

 

[Sinderella]

"You have to?" she shot back. "You're the only one capable?"

She didn't know why she sounded so mad. Most of what he was saying was right. Make people like that disappear into a ditch or shallow grave so they can't hurt anyone anymore. From a black and white standpoint, that was ideal. At least, in her wrath-laden mind.

But the idea of consciously going out, stalking a bar, luring them back, drugging them, forcing them to admit their wrongdoings in order to justify offing them...it was serial killer behavior. Was that sort of thing really any different than the abuse they were dishing? Andre had to do it discreetly because he knew it was against the law and would get him thrown in fucking jail.

But that same kind of law saw Deschamps in a teaching position while his colleagues covered up his past abuse. That same law nearly got her tried for fucking manslaughter when she fought back.

And if she was really thinking about it, what did it fucking matter if people like that were dealt their own medicine? If Deschamps or Dorien had ever found themselves in reverse positions to their victims, maybe they'd have thought twice about what they were doing. Or not. People like them were often incapable of seeing how deep their faults ran.

Which is why it's deserved; death is the only ideal outcome for people like them!

MONSTER.

"And why are you so sure of that? Did you come out of the fucking womb certain it was your destiny to clean the scum off the bottom of your world's shoe? Or was it just a hobby you picked up in your older age? Why you specifically? Do you gain anything aside from the knowledge you killed somebody who's done something bad?"

 

[canisaries]

"Well -- I'm not the only one capable of it in the world, obviously, but I mean in my own community," Andre said. "Or, shit, I guess there could be more like me and they just know how to keep it under wraps. But I know myself, and I know that I can stomach hurting people. I don't like that I'm like that, but that's just how it is. And as long as I have the resources and the nature that I have, it would be negligient not to do what I do. Cowardly."

He sighed. "And, no, I don't gain anything." Liar. "I don't do it to gain something. I do it to give."

 

[Sinderella]

Her gaze on him was unwavering. She stood sentry in the grass, listening to him ramble through his case. She thought back to the first time they'd spoken; how he'd introduced her to the word 'slacktivism' as he talked about what little charity work he'd done. At the time, she'd pegged him as a trust fund kid, but that didn't really dawn on her until he mentioned his "resources."

"So you're rich, right?" she said. "And this is your idea of that extra 'charity work' you mentioned you should have been doing?"

She appeared to ruminate on her own question, and with an exaggerated huff, she crossed her arms over her chest. She then proceeded to return to the bench, where she threw herself back down next to her songbook.

"You know, I dated rich. My ex's family had enough money to cover up any fucking hit they wanted if they desired. Most of their resources were going toward an organization set on taking down a terrorist cult made up of assholes, so hits on individual ones were nothing. Arguably a work expense," she explained. "Implying you come from the same kind of mountain of cash, what's stopping you from doing the same thing? You already hired a hitman once, for the case that I'd assume was closest to home for you no less, so why do you have to be the one to kill the rest of them personally?"

 

[canisaries]

"So you're rich, right?" she said. "And this is your idea of that extra 'charity work' you mentioned you should have been doing?"

Andre hesitated, but nodded.

"Implying you come from the same kind of mountain of cash, what's stopping you from doing the same thing? You already hired a hitman once, for the case that I'd assume was closest to home for you no less, so why do you have to be the one to kill the rest of them personally?"

"Hitmen aren't exactly known for their morals," Andre said. "I figure the less money I give to criminals, the better."

Never mind the fact that he still gave thousands of pounds to those criminals when he needed a body to disappear, sometimes a car as well. It was still cheaper, though, right? The hit he'd put on Ellie's boyfriend cost him ten grand. The services he bought were, at the very most, five. How much human trafficking had he funded?

"And, I mean, as grim as it sounds - given that I'm the one seeking them out and gauging them, I might as well be the one to finish the job. I only didn't do it myself the first time because I didn't know I'd be capable of... taking a life with my own hands."

 

[Sinderella]

Odette studied Andre for a long while. At some point while he was talking she began to rub slow, hard circles into her temple, as if what he was saying was giving her a headache. Before the silence between them could grow too awkward, she scoffed.

"Anyone's fucking capable of taking a life if they're pushed hard enough," she sneered. "Believe me, I know."

She saw no reason to be coy about what she'd said before. She'd made that bed by being too quick to jump a gun, and now she needed to lie in it. "I guess your pressure point was...what, too much injustice in your world? Feeling like you're not doing enough to give back? Watching your sister be abused?"

The insensitivity behind those words caused her to wince, and she lowered her head in a deep sigh. "I--sorry."

Another bout of silence blanketed them, this one far less tense than the first round, but a tad more broody. Odette continued to rub circles into the side of her head, the skin underneath her fingers flushing a light purple due to the repeated irritation. She didn't appear to notice or care.

"So I'm guessing the Comb showed Ridley how you've killed people. And now he's making you tell us what you are before he goes out and does it himself. Did I get that right?"

 

[canisaries]

The insensitivity behind those words caused her to wince, and she lowered her head in a deep sigh. "I--sorry."

"It's fine," Andre muttered.

He thought a little bit about Odette's question. It probably had been Ellie's boyfriend that started it all. Before that, abuse had felt distant. Then it was right in front of him, and he saw how much pain it caused...

But, really, he wouldn't have started killing if he hadn't heard that one guy bragging. That's what told him it was possible for him to do something about abusers with his own hands. And after that, he had to. Ever since then, he's had to.

"So I'm guessing the Comb showed Ridley how you've killed people. And now he's making you tell us what you are before he goes out and does it himself. Did I get that right?"

Andre sighed. "Yeah. That's the gist of it. Or, well, he only needed me to tell a few. I'm trying to keep it to as few people as possible, since people... really don't take it well." He paused. "So... are you gonna tell anyone about this?"

 

[Sinderella]

Odette laughed humorlessly. "That sounds like code for 'Dave cursed you out,' huh?" Yeah, that felt par for the course. She wanted to curse Andre out herself, and she agreed with him. Fuck.

At his question, she quirked a brow suspiciously. "Why? Will that put me on your hit list?" Sarcasm wrapped the question in a razor sharp edge. "Technically I'm a fucking murderer myself, so would that help me meet the criteria of being your next victim?"

Her anger was coming in waves, though she was having a hard time pinpointing who she was directing it at. Andre, for deciding it'd be a good idea to tell her this bullshit bit of information, or herself, for that empathy she was feeling. For the sheer lack of unease she felt at the idea that he was a serial killer. For wanting to know how exactly he'd killed them all. For wanting to know if they suffered as much as their victims might have.

Despite all the reassurances she'd gotten, both back home and in Forlas, the feeling was creeping up on her again. She really did feel like a fucking monster. Her jaws shook with the urge to scream that word from atop the mayoral mansion. Thank all the gods they were chained.

Sighing, she shook her head.

"No. I'm not," she groused. "That might put me in a position where I'd have to explain why I agree with what you're doing, and I'm fucking over airing my dirty laundry already. So I sure as shit have no reason to air yours."

 

[canisaries]

"That sounds like code for 'Dave cursed you out,' huh?"

"Yeah..." Andre sighed quietly.

At his question, she quirked a brow suspiciously. "Why? Will that put me on your hit list?" Sarcasm wrapped the question in a razor sharp edge. "Technically I'm a fucking murderer myself, so would that help me meet the criteria of being your next victim?"

Andre almost took her first words seriously, so used to getting this question already, but realized she was kidding just in time. Not just that, her next words made him quiet.

She was a murderer? Who had she killed? Had they deserved it? Probably, but could he really assume so?

"No. I'm not," she groused. "That might put me in a position where I'd have to explain why I agree with what you're doing, and I'm fucking over airing my dirty laundry already. So I sure as shit have no reason to air yours."

"Oh. Thanks." Andre was genuinely grateful, but Odette's sudden revelation was still buzzing in his head. But Odette had just said that she was over talking about it, so he couldn't ask. He could ask about the other thing, though.

"You agree with what I'm doing?" he asked, genuinely curious. He wasn't even sure why. He thought he would have been overjoyed to have someone finally understand him and see that he was doing this for righteous reasons. But that didn't fit the picture. People were supposed to shun him, and he would try to convince them in vain, and then they would shun him even more. That's how it had played in his head ever since he committed his first crime. Well, outside buying weed.

...If Odette really agreed with him so easily, was she a good person? Even Andre didn't think he'd agree with someone else telling him they were doing what he did. He simply didn't trust others to have the right idea of justice, to know exactly where the line went between redeemable and irredeemable. Only he knew himself to have the insight necessary to make a fair decision on someone's life, and even then, he doubted himself constantly.

 

[Sinderella]

She narrowed her eyes at him. Why did he sound like that was shocking to him? He was the one fucking doing what he was doing, anticipating that others were going to shun him, so why did he sound taken aback that someone agreed?

Probably because it was asinine. Why the hell would anyone commiserate with a serial killer, regardless of who his victims were? Only you, Odette. Only fucking you. Monster.

Might as well be upfront. Leaning forward, she spoke with the conviction of a drill sergeant. "If someone had buried a knife in my fucking rapist's neck, then I wouldn't have had to bash his head in when he attacked me. If someone had offed my other ex, I'd still have full feeling in my human arm. I wouldn't be permanently scarred. I wouldn't have had to shoot his fucking bodyguards to get the fuck away from him." She yanked down the sleeve on her right arm to reveal her eerily bite-shaped marks for good measure.

Her eyes glazed over for a beat as her head was clouded with those memories yet again, and she sat back and buried her face in her hands. When she finally looked back up, all the anger that had been in her eye was snuffed out by something far more haunted.

"My life would be a lot different. And I wish every godsdammned day somebody had given them a taste of their own medicine before I had to."

 

[canisaries]

Yep. Well. That made sense. Odette had clearly been through massive amounts of shit, and it would only make sense to develop extreme opinions based on that.

Andre nodded. "Well, I certainly hope my actions have spared people from shit like that. And... sorry to hear." But Odette seemed like someone who didn't take well to pity, so Andre tried to say it matter-of-factly.

 

[Sinderella]

She scoffed. “Yeah. For everyone’s sake, I really hope so too,” she said. The lack of pity in his tone was appreciated, and she indicated as such by sighing and shaking her head again.

“Shit happens.”

She picked up her songbook again and flipped it open to another blank page. She began to scribble something incoherent, having clearly said everything she needed to say. Now, she just wanted to take a nap of an indeterminate length.

“Well. Good luck with the extortion. And everything.”

 

[canisaries]

"Yeah." Andre nodded. "Well, see you around."

He turned around and headed back towards the town. He did look over his shoulder one last time at the bush Odette has torched. Should he offer to pay part of the damages? He was the one who'd made Odette so upset.

Well, he had a feeling that Odette wouldn't let him, anyway. Better to let it go. Right now, he had to find Ridley to once again report to him that he'd told yet another soul. And maaayyyybe get told that he'd done enough. One could only hope.

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