Book 2: Chapter 18 - Cats, Mice, and Why They Look So Similar

The Cruel Ivy Killer wasn’t simply a murderer.
Nor was she just a serial killer.

That is what she is famous for, certainly.
Well, at least under that moniker.

But there wasn’t a moment of her life that she wasn’t cruel in some way.

This, in my opinion, is the most damning thing about her story.
And it is not her who is damned, but everyone around her.

Killer or otherwise, it didn’t take much evidence to prove she wasn’t safe.
—Daisy Whitaker, “Cruelty in Color”

Violet Asher
Category [Orange]
Calling <Reaper>
Degree {1}

Attributes
Agility (166)
Constitution (80)
Dexterity (135)
Endurance (89)
Perception (221)
Resistance (110)
Strength (66)
Bloodlust (438)

Violet grinned at her attributes. Her empathy ring had betrayed her for eleven years, but it had been more than generous recently. It had cost the lives of a high red and a high yellow, but she’d managed it. She’d made it from red nine to orange one in a single night. That gave her three months of leeway before her deadline. She could actually go to karaoke with Kiera and Kassie without the anxiety of her advancement. She didn’t intend to sit still, of course, but it was relaxing to know she could choose how to grow on her own schedule for a while. 

She’d made it home late, and hadn’t had an opportunity to use her ring. She’d immediately felt the sharp increase in her abilities, but she hadn’t known if she’d only made it to red ten, or if she’d managed to jump all the way to the next category. Or rather, she suspected she’d made it to orange, but she couldn’t be certain. She’d wanted to check right away, but now that she had more freedom of movement, she was hardly going to linger around the… remains of the people who’d fueled her growth. Not in a district where everyone outclassed her in every way. Killing in the green district was enough of a risk, and one mitigated by the nature of the situation. The Debt Collector had paid for privacy, after all. Even so, as soon as she’d checked the scene for possible evidence, she’d needed to leave.

The entire way home, she’d been given no time alone. There were public restrooms and nothing else. Nothing worth the consequences of being caught. She had to wait until she was home to check her ring. But she could feel it. Inside. A new talent. Something she could touch, but not quite understand on her own. She almost wanted to activate it, but she definitely couldn’t do that. Not without knowing what it actually was.

When she’d made it home, Kiera had been awake, frustratingly. But it was alright. Violet liked Kiera. She didn’t mind talking to the overly energetic fox. She was just… distracted. She considered using her own bathroom, but reading her new talent without being able to try it would have been even worse. So she went to bed. She waited. She went to class the next day, and she learned about useless history until their lunch break. It was only then—when Kiera was occupied with Guy—that Violet had finally returned to her room and activated her ring.

Her new attributes alone were satisfying. Well worth the wait. She’d been using them, of course. Her perception let her hear so much more. When she’d passed through the red district on her way home, it had become immediately apparent why higher degrees were barred from entering lower districts without strict regulations in place. She could hear every conversation through every wall. But feeling it was one thing, and seeing the number applied was another. It carried a certain dopamine hit with it.

But it was time. She wanted to see her new talent. So she sent the emotional command to her empathy ring, and her attributes melted away. In their place, her talents carved themselves into her mirror’s glass surface. The first two almost annoyed her as they muddied the available space. They were talents she’d grown fond of, but they were mundane in their familiarity. She wanted something new. And her breath caught as it finally started to etch its way into the glass.

Quiet Ivy - [Orange] - {1}

“A Reaper must go unseen. A Reaper must take comfort in the dark. Yet those who must die often live in the light. Those who must be dominated are protected by the sun. With ‘Quiet Ivy,’ she may use the sun to create the dark. This talent grants her mastery of the shadows. Her shadows may crawl up the highest fortress. They may strangle the strongest enemy. Or they may serve as the strings for any puppet she chooses. Whatever she does with them, they will be silent, they will be dark, and they will be obedient.

The Reaper’s resistance must dominate her enemy’s attributes, or ‘Quiet Ivy’ may fail.”

Violet tilted her head at the description. It was fairly vague on what the talent did, exactly. It had to do with shadows, obviously. But it wasn’t quite as clear-cut as Obfuscate or Tools of the Trade. Still, it was designed to be subtle. She could certainly try it out in her dorm. 

She took a deep breath, and searched for that itch she’d been fighting since the night before. It presented itself eagerly, and she immediately grasped it, activating her new talent.

Vines of shadow dripped off of her like hair the moment she did. It was strange to see as they extended into the air, not touching anything around them. They still looked like shadows, but with nothing to land on, they had a surreal, otherworldly quality to them. They were also completely silent. More than that, however, was the strange feeling they gave her. She could feel each one. She flicked them around as easily as a finger. Except they had no bones, so she could move them in any configuration at will. She could group them into thick vines, or split them into countless threads. 

When they touched the ground—or the walls around her—they settled on them in a more natural, harder to notice way. Excepting the fact that there was nothing to cast them, they looked normal. Until she moved them. It was unsettling how naturally she controlled them. It genuinely felt no different than bending a finger. The downside of this was that her dexterity needed to keep up with them. It only became more obvious the more she tried to use them. It was far easier to control a few thick vines of shadow than a dozen thin strands. 

Her dexterity attribute certainly helped, and she was far more precise than she would have been a few months before. But she could tell this was a talent that would grow considerably more effective as she advanced to higher categories. For the time being, she could reliably control six vines of shadow at a time. More than that, and she found herself making mistakes. Moving the wrong vine in the wrong direction. It was like patting her head and rubbing her belly while hopping on one foot. Every instruction made the next harder to track. 

If she wanted to keep it subtle—and harder to spot—she could only control two or three at a time. Although she did notice that if she wanted them all doing the same thing in the same direction, she could increase that number. There were other interesting factors. She crept one up her sink and wrapped it around her toothbrush. She seemed to be able to grip with them, but she had to focus on which parts she wanted to be substantial. It would latch on to whatever it touched, but she’d lose control over other vines when she did this.

It was interesting, and she was quite pleased with it overall. It was just so… clean. And quiet. It wasn’t exactly a standard scout skill, but she could easily spin it to fit. Especially if she was very intentional with her use of it.

It would take a lot of practice to get good with it, but it would be extremely versatile once she did. And she had three months to get there. She also had three months to research common scouting talents and see if there were any she could emulate. 

Finally, she withdrew her mental energy, and the shadows faded away. There was a lot left to try, but it was perhaps her favorite talent so far. It had been more than worth waiting. 

One last thing concerned her, however, and she redirected her clarity to her second talent. The combat knife she created shone with a sparkling orange, and she frowned. She lifted her other hand and formed another knife, focusing on withholding clarity as she did. To her relief, a red knife did take its place. It took longer to create, but it would be good enough. She was already going to need to slow herself down when making anything but a glaive. 

As she finally left her dorm, she was in an exceptionally good mood. Enough that, as she made her way to the cafeteria, she had no trouble maintaining a wide, cheerful smile as Chase marched toward her like a storm.

“Chase! I’ve been worried about you! I haven’t seen you since you got here. Is everything alright?” Violet asked. She spoke quietly, but she was headed to the smaller cafeteria for green students. She was careful to speak just loudly enough that everyone could hear the conversation clearly. Even students with perception as their weak attribute. 

“What the fuck?” Chase replied. “Why are you acting like we are friends now?”

Violet paused, then blinked, taking a step back. She opened her mouth a little in surprise, then let her smile start to fade a little.

“I, uh, I guess I thought we were? After everything that—” she cut herself off, then looked around as if she’d just realized she had an audience. “Well, I guess we don’t have to be. Although, I really would prefer it if you didn’t use that language either way. Still, I was worried, and I’m glad to see you again. What brings you to the green dorm?”

“I have no idea what gave you that idea. But it doesn’t matter. I came to make sure you’re available on Monday. However I feel about you, Alex will want to see both of us when he gets here,” he explained.

Violet took another step back, then tilted her head so her sidetail bounced a bit. She offered him a confused but sympathetic smile, like she’d just been told a joke she didn’t understand. “Monday?” she asked. Alex was dead. She was sure of it. She’d watched him die herself. It hadn’t been pretty, either. But she’d wanted to be sure. If Alex arrived in Prism City at all, it would be in various different baggies. The thought made her a little queasy, but also mildly amused.

“Have you seriously not even been tracking it, Violet? Are you fucking kidding me? That’s when the lancer team gets back! The one Mr. Bouvier sent to investigate the station? Where Alex disappeared! They’ll be back, and they’ll have found Alex!” he lectured.

Violet was quiet for a long moment. Her face fell, and she stared at him with an expression of broken glass. Like a mother unsure how to tell a child that their favorite dog was dead. “Oh. Chase…” she trailed.

“I know. I know you don’t think he made it. But we cleared out the nest in the area! There were no hedron left, and not a lot of clarity nearby to attract them! I was talking to my teacher about it, and he thinks Alex could have survived if the train got back quickly enough! And it’s Alex. He could have gotten lost, sure, but he’s strong. If he didn’t wander too far, he definitely made it!” Chase insisted. 

Violet looked around as if for help. She was rewarded with a few sympathetic looks, but no one stepped in to answer the energetic boy on her behalf. She looked away, implying she was unable to meet Chase’s eyes.

“Chase. That’s just… that’s not reality. Why would Alex have gone far enough to get lost? The only reason he wouldn’t be close enough to see the train through the mist would be if something had…” Violet trailed off. Chase’s eyes hardened, but he refused to respond. “Please don’t make me say it. I really don’t want to say it.” She begged with her eyes. As the silence stretched, a few more people looked their way.

Finally, Chase spoke. “What is wrong with you?” he asked.

Violet winced. “I hate that your teacher would do that. I’m sure it seemed kind, but… that's just cruel. Think about it, Chase. Please. I understand how you feel. I do. But Alex was smart. You know as well as I do. If he’d still been… if making it back to the train was a possibility, he would have been there. I don’t know what happened. I know that. But…” Violet paused, then looked around again. As her eyes started to glisten, she sniffed and composed herself. “Can we find somewhere more private to talk about this? There are some booths in the cafeteria…”

“No. Say what you have to fucking say here. In the open,” Chase growled. 

Finally, someone else spoke up. “Dude, you are basically screaming, as far as everyone here is concerned. Maybe you should respect your friend’s wishes, yeah?” a boy sitting halfway down the hall called. Chase gave him a sharp look, then noticed all the other eyes on him. Nearly everyone in the hall was staring at the pair, at this point.

“Fine. Show me,” he agreed. Violet looked around again, then blushed. She gave the other students an apologetic look, then grabbed Chase’s hand and led him the rest of the way to the cafeteria. As she’d said, there were covered booths with small green crystals on each table. She led her to one, and as soon as they sat down, the rest of the world went quiet. No one green or under would be able to hear a word they said. “Alright. Let’s hear it. Let’s hear how little you think of Alex, that you gave up on him so fucking quickly.”

“I had faith in Alex. Enough to know that he wouldn’t have left me, Chase. He was a good man. And meek as he may have been at times, he would have moved heaven and earth to make it back to me. I wasn’t some ‘friend’ he tolerated because he was too shy to find anyone he liked better. He loved me. But he left me here alone. Without the one person I knew I could rely on. And now I’m here. Trapped. Once again surrounded by people who outclass me in every way. I feel abandoned. Like I’m stranded, and monsters are constantly closing in on me. Like if I let my guard down for a moment, I’ll be eaten alive.

“Alex used to protect me from that. From the monsters. He used to stand up for me. Against everyone who looked down on me. From people like you. I needed him, and he knew that. He came with me because he knew that. The only way he wouldn’t have been next to me when I woke up is if he were dead. If you’d ever known him—if he’d ever let you in even a little bit—you wouldn’t question that. He’s gone, Chase. He’s dead. While I was wounded, and hurting, and the only person left he could rely on was you. He died. And I understand why you feel guilty, I do. I would, too, if I’d had the chance to keep him safe like you did. But I didn’t. All he had was you. And he is dead,” Violet replied.

Chase stared at her. The more she spoke, the more he was clearly fighting between confusion and rage. Despite her words, she hadn’t started shouting. She hadn’t sobbed, screamed. She hadn’t shown any significant emotion at all. She was calm. Her voice was even. It wasn’t even accusatory. Just… informative. Like she was explaining a mildly interesting historical fact. She’d even crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap as she spoke. As she all but told him he’d killed Alex.

“You’re not just giving up on him. You’re not just moving on like he was shit smeared on your shoe. But you’re… you’re blaming me? Violet. Violet, what the fuck? Why are you acting like this? You were about to cry a minute ago, and now it’s like you don’t even care. Like explaining this is annoying, and you’re already thinking about what you want for lunch!” Chase shouted.

Violet tilted her head. Then she let out a heavy sigh. “Give up on Alex, Chase. He’s dead.” As she announced that, she stood, smoothed out her skirt, and stepped toward the edge of the energy that kept their conversation quiet. Then she turned back to him. “I won’t be meeting you at the station on Monday. And Alex won’t be, either. Which is maybe a kindness. He didn’t like you much, you know. This way, you can remember the front he put up, instead of learning what he really thought of you firsthand. If he’d lived, he would have told you how fucking pathetic you were eventually.” She started to walk away, letting her hands tremble as she did. Her jaw, too, shook. She waited until she heard his footsteps, then turned to address him again.

“I’m sorry, Chase. I’m so, so sorry. It hurts to talk about this. And I’m sorry I seem so cold to you. But I have to grieve. And I can’t do that if I keep denying what happened. I can't meet you where you are!” she said. Her voice wavered as she did, and a few new eyes locked onto the pair.

“Shut the fuck up! What is wrong with you? You think Alex loved you? He was using you! You were just the only pretty face who would give him the time of day! You know that, right? You think he wouldn’t have left you? You think he cared about protecting you? He mocked you more than anyone did!” Chase shouted after her. 

Violet looked like she’d been slapped. She looked around the room at all the interested faces and paled. Water started to trickle down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to respond, but her mouth quivered too much, and her lungs forced her to take a sudden, sharp breath. Chase glared at her. Everyone stared. And she gave up on a response. Instead, she simply turned and ran out of the room.