canisaries
Beast of Auralia
- Pronoun
- she/her
Hunger came first. Then thirst. Then fatigue. Then, with the setting of the sun, the chill. As each arrived and strengthened its hold, pitiful thoughts bubbled up in Andre's mind.
This is stupid, he thought. This is an overreaction. I don't need to die. Not slowly nor quickly, not that the Wayfarers would really kill me anyway.
Every time, however, he reminded himself of what he'd done, what he was, and how it was an abomination against true and just morality. He needed to keep walking. He needed to keep shambling on in the dark until he couldn't stand and then he'd need to keep trying anyway.
This is sensible, he thought. This is proportionate - if anything, still too good for me. I need not just to die, but to suffer. The Wayfarers can find my corpse.
That last thought was new. He thought of his little deerling body limp on the ground. He thought of wild birds coming in and pecking out his eyeballs. He thought of a highwaymon stealing his hat and vest. Or maybe it would be too gross for even them. Either way, Andre would deserve an end like that.
He then paused to think about whether he actually would leave behind a corpse. The others that had left hadn't. But the others also hadn't died. The others...
The others that, for one reason or another, had given up on fighting for Forlas, and that was why they were gone.
...Why hadn't Andre disappeared, then?
Was it really so that he, after everything in the past few hours, still wanted to help Forlas?
Well, yeah, maybe I want to help Forlas, but I can't. A psycho like me can't be trusted. Not that I was any use to them while I was pretending not to be one, anyway.
I don't think anyone will be too disturbed about me dying.
Especially Ben.
Ben will probably be overjoyed with the combination of Laura telling him the truth and him finding out about my death. It won't bring Mike back, but it might bring Ben some semblance of peace of mind. Even if it'll be gone once he returns to his homeworld.
Fuck. I'm gonna return there too, and I'm not gonna remember any of this. I'm just gonna keep killing until I get caught. I'm probably not gonna understand what I've been doing wrong even after they've told me.
Well... at least I'll be able to tell on Red, then. Unless the guy kills me first. I hope he does. Or, no, it's better to get caught. That way my victims' families will get to know the truth about their loved ones' disappearances.
Victims. The word, even now, seemed unfitting. Andre still didn't feel like they deserved better than what he'd done to them. But that had to be just another sign of how he was a sick fuck who needed to be put down. He'd take everyone else's word for it. That was the least he could do.
So, on he walked.
No, seriously, stop fucking around, another thought came. You'll accomplish nothing with this. You just said that you'd go back and not remember anything, right? So what's the point in suffering if it won't teach you anything?
Stop doing that, Andre thought back. Stop acting like I deserve better. Stop acting like I haven't done anything wrong. Stop acting like... how I used to act all my life. I need to be different now. I need to make things right.
And dying is the way to do that?
Yes. That's what I deserve. I've done awful things, and I need to be punished.
Isn't that exact type of thinking why you became a serial killer in the first case?
Andre faltered, but this only made him lose a step and tumble down onto the ground.
Good. You could use a rest.
I can't rest, thought Andre and mustered up what strength he had left to pry himself back onto his hooves, then hobbled on. I haven't made things right yet.
You aren't making things right. You're not owning up to your mistakes. You're running away.
I'm not. I'm punishing myself. I'm taking care of things.
No. You're throwing yourself a lethal pity party. You're being a fucking drama queen. Go back.
I'm not gonna go back. There's nothing there for me to do, anyway.
Yes there is, Duval. You need to go up to Ben and tell him you lied and that you're sorry. But you're too fucking proud to do that.
I'm not being proud! I'm doing what I think is right!
You're doing what makes you feel better.
I'm literally dying!
First of all, no you're not, you've been walking for a couple of hours in nippy weather without food or water. You're not on death's door. Don't even act like it's too late to go back.
Andre kicked the dusty ground. I'm not going back! I'm doing this! I'm going to walk myself to death because that's what I want to do, damn it!
Well, there it is. It's just what you want to do. It's not what everyone else wants you to do. You know, the people you've wronged and should make things up to?
Andre stopped.
What? No, keep going, said another voice. You're shirking your duty.
Don't listen to that voice, said the original voice. Your duty is to the Wayfarers. To the people of Forlas. To everyone you've wronged. Not to this guy.
The other voice wanted to argue, but Andre discarded its thoughts.
Can I really make things right if I go back? Andre asked.
Realistically? No. You can't. You can't bring back the people you killed and you can't heal the emotional wounds you've left on their loved ones. But you can sure as hell get closer to it than whatever the fuck you were trying to do here.
Andre stayed silent.
Look, you don't have to make the full commitment right now. Just turn 180 degrees and start going back. It's just more walking, and clearly, that's something you want to do anyway. If you really can't march back to Frontier Town and go face Ben, you can stay on the outskirts. You can postpone the decision. Just don't make the really stupid one now.
Andre stood still. Then he turned around.
There might be a problem, he thought.
He wasn't actually sure if he'd walked straight enough for just a 180-degree turn to get him facing the right direction.
Fuck.
This is stupid, he thought. This is an overreaction. I don't need to die. Not slowly nor quickly, not that the Wayfarers would really kill me anyway.
Every time, however, he reminded himself of what he'd done, what he was, and how it was an abomination against true and just morality. He needed to keep walking. He needed to keep shambling on in the dark until he couldn't stand and then he'd need to keep trying anyway.
This is sensible, he thought. This is proportionate - if anything, still too good for me. I need not just to die, but to suffer. The Wayfarers can find my corpse.
That last thought was new. He thought of his little deerling body limp on the ground. He thought of wild birds coming in and pecking out his eyeballs. He thought of a highwaymon stealing his hat and vest. Or maybe it would be too gross for even them. Either way, Andre would deserve an end like that.
He then paused to think about whether he actually would leave behind a corpse. The others that had left hadn't. But the others also hadn't died. The others...
The others that, for one reason or another, had given up on fighting for Forlas, and that was why they were gone.
...Why hadn't Andre disappeared, then?
Was it really so that he, after everything in the past few hours, still wanted to help Forlas?
Well, yeah, maybe I want to help Forlas, but I can't. A psycho like me can't be trusted. Not that I was any use to them while I was pretending not to be one, anyway.
I don't think anyone will be too disturbed about me dying.
Especially Ben.
Ben will probably be overjoyed with the combination of Laura telling him the truth and him finding out about my death. It won't bring Mike back, but it might bring Ben some semblance of peace of mind. Even if it'll be gone once he returns to his homeworld.
Fuck. I'm gonna return there too, and I'm not gonna remember any of this. I'm just gonna keep killing until I get caught. I'm probably not gonna understand what I've been doing wrong even after they've told me.
Well... at least I'll be able to tell on Red, then. Unless the guy kills me first. I hope he does. Or, no, it's better to get caught. That way my victims' families will get to know the truth about their loved ones' disappearances.
Victims. The word, even now, seemed unfitting. Andre still didn't feel like they deserved better than what he'd done to them. But that had to be just another sign of how he was a sick fuck who needed to be put down. He'd take everyone else's word for it. That was the least he could do.
So, on he walked.
No, seriously, stop fucking around, another thought came. You'll accomplish nothing with this. You just said that you'd go back and not remember anything, right? So what's the point in suffering if it won't teach you anything?
Stop doing that, Andre thought back. Stop acting like I deserve better. Stop acting like I haven't done anything wrong. Stop acting like... how I used to act all my life. I need to be different now. I need to make things right.
And dying is the way to do that?
Yes. That's what I deserve. I've done awful things, and I need to be punished.
Isn't that exact type of thinking why you became a serial killer in the first case?
Andre faltered, but this only made him lose a step and tumble down onto the ground.
Good. You could use a rest.
I can't rest, thought Andre and mustered up what strength he had left to pry himself back onto his hooves, then hobbled on. I haven't made things right yet.
You aren't making things right. You're not owning up to your mistakes. You're running away.
I'm not. I'm punishing myself. I'm taking care of things.
No. You're throwing yourself a lethal pity party. You're being a fucking drama queen. Go back.
I'm not gonna go back. There's nothing there for me to do, anyway.
Yes there is, Duval. You need to go up to Ben and tell him you lied and that you're sorry. But you're too fucking proud to do that.
I'm not being proud! I'm doing what I think is right!
You're doing what makes you feel better.
I'm literally dying!
First of all, no you're not, you've been walking for a couple of hours in nippy weather without food or water. You're not on death's door. Don't even act like it's too late to go back.
Andre kicked the dusty ground. I'm not going back! I'm doing this! I'm going to walk myself to death because that's what I want to do, damn it!
Well, there it is. It's just what you want to do. It's not what everyone else wants you to do. You know, the people you've wronged and should make things up to?
Andre stopped.
What? No, keep going, said another voice. You're shirking your duty.
Don't listen to that voice, said the original voice. Your duty is to the Wayfarers. To the people of Forlas. To everyone you've wronged. Not to this guy.
The other voice wanted to argue, but Andre discarded its thoughts.
Can I really make things right if I go back? Andre asked.
Realistically? No. You can't. You can't bring back the people you killed and you can't heal the emotional wounds you've left on their loved ones. But you can sure as hell get closer to it than whatever the fuck you were trying to do here.
Andre stayed silent.
Look, you don't have to make the full commitment right now. Just turn 180 degrees and start going back. It's just more walking, and clearly, that's something you want to do anyway. If you really can't march back to Frontier Town and go face Ben, you can stay on the outskirts. You can postpone the decision. Just don't make the really stupid one now.
Andre stood still. Then he turned around.
There might be a problem, he thought.
He wasn't actually sure if he'd walked straight enough for just a 180-degree turn to get him facing the right direction.
Fuck.