Book 2 Chapter 55 - The Cruelty of Distrust

You’re wrong, John. I don’t know how many ways there are to tell you this, but you are wrong.

The Cruel Ivy Killer couldn’t manage this on his own.

Mostly on his own? Maybe.
But entirely?

No. No, something isn’t lining up.
There is at least one person protecting him.

And if we find out who, we find the killer.
—Lyle Lupin, Police Briefing Transcripts

It was just a little white lie.

I only hurt abusers, and only when it saves the abused.

Kiera hadn’t said a word for the rest of the meal. After she’d first heard the moniker “Cruel Ivy Killer.” Once she’d realized Violet had killed not only her father, but another student at the same time. After Kiera realized Violet had killed before, since reaching Prism. 

The story she’d heard and the one reported by the news were entirely different. One had been her friend. Doing something unthinkable because Kiera’s life would end without it. The other was the story of a vindictive and sadistic killer, happy to hurt whoever stood in her way. Violet had watched the dissonance spread over Kiera's face like a crack in glass. And Violet had watched as the fox failed to use her illusion to erase the realization.

There was a limit to the lies Kiera would cover up in her own mind, apparently.

Even so. Violet had saved her. So Kiera waited. She asked to talk about something else, which Guy and Aubrey had stumbled over themselves to do. They'd finished the meal in peace, and they returned to their dorm room. Green would have to be privacy enough, since the bell tower was now blocked off. It didn't matter. The headmaster already knew what Violet was, unless he was an idiot. 

Kiera accused Violet of nothing. Violet knew she wouldn't. With the fox so recently the victim of rumors herself, Violet knew she'd want to hear both sides of the story. It was what Violet had done for her, which made it the minimum favor she owed Violet.

The two sat in silence for a long time, in fact. Salmon sat like oil and vinegar in Violet’s stomach as she watched Kiera. Her best friend scrolled through a tablet and finally read the bulletin.

Violet could barely process what she was feeling. The nervous energy that set her veins on fire and forced her hands to rub against her arms. It was an unexpected response. She'd known Kiera might learn what she was, if she asked for the girl’s help. It had been expected, and Violet decided it was more than worth the risk. She'd been ready to kill her roommate only a couple of weeks before. If it meant she'd be safe.

But she'd never had an actual friend before.

So as confident and self-assured as she'd been, she found herself anxious as Kiera read. It wasn't an incredible worry she couldn't banish. And it was over something of little significance, considering the ways Violet conquered those who’d found her wanting. 

Whatever conclusion Kiera came to, Violet would handle it. Even so, she wanted Kiera to like her. This wasn't a desire born of romance or infatuation. It wasn't even influenced by any kind of lust. Violet felt none of these for the fox.

It was the simple desire for a peer. A confidante. Someone who was happy to know Violet, whether she wore her hair up or down. She wanted Kiera to remain her friend. 

She didn't, however, care if she won this friendship through honest means. As long as Kiera trusted her again, it didn’t matter why. So she knew she’d come out on top in the end. It was just... for some reason, this felt different than those brief moments of betrayal Violet had seen in Kiera’s eyes before. The realizations washed away with illusions. Perhaps that was why. Because this time, Kiera hadn’t forgiven Violet by default. She would. But she wanted an explanation first. She needed more reason than Violet had given—if she was going to keep up the lie.

Violet wondered if that was how it had started with Samuel. When he’d lost Kiera’s devotion. She supposed it didn’t matter. Even if it was, this wouldn’t be the same. Violet was nothing like that pathetic creep. She wouldn’t hurt Kiera. Not really. Not like he had. It would be alright. 

But the waiting made a world of difference. To have the greatest chance of success, Violet needed to let Kiera feel like she had all of the information. She needed to appear open and vulnerable. Which meant she had to exist in the world where she was at least slightly repulsive to her only real friend. 

Violet did not enjoy the process of manipulating Kiera. Not as much as she should have.

“Violet,” Kiera finally said. “Violet, help me understand.”

Violet looked up and caught Kiera’s eyes. Her anxiety met the kitsune’s like a dominant meets a tonic. They sang together in worried silence for an eternal yet fleeting moment, waiting for the end of a scale that refused to complete. 

Violet refused to speak for exactly as long as she needed to. Too fast an explanation, and it would feel like scrambling. Too late, and it would be as good as an admission. 

But that lingering note of shared fear had an intimacy to it, and Violet used it to wrap a collar around the fox. When Violet finally let words pass her lips, she released a tension in the air and found an audience desperate to accept them.

“I only hurt abusers, and only when it saves the abused,” Violet explained. She felt her talent as she spoke like she’d just entered a cold room. Not a denial, but an admission. A confirmation of what she couldn't deny, and what Kiera had clearly all but accepted. 

That was the lie empowered by Violet’s talent.

It wouldn't have been believable to everyone, of course. Many with the same information as Kiera would have found that idea implausible. Especially after reading about Merryl's death. The seemingly innocent girl who’d died for trying to save a drowning man. And some would believe it, and still choose to turn Violet in. It wouldn't be a safe lie for everyone.

But Kiera wanted to believe it. Violet could see it written on the girl's face. Violet had killed Samuel for her. Which meant Violet had killed Merryl for her as well. Kiera was an accomplice. She shared Violet’s guilt in one murder, and she understood the necessity of the same. 

The lie was at least believable to Kiera, and Violet took any other choice away. Little White Lies took the plausibility of belief and made it a pressure at the back of Kiera's knees.

“These people... it says you murdered four people in the mist!” Kiera said.

Violet bit her lip and looked down at the ground. “You trust me, don't you?” she asked.

Kiera paused before answering. Violet couldn't evaluate what response to expect. At least, not by sight. But she was prepared for what she finally heard.

“Violet... I do. Or... I believe you, at least. But this...”

“I killed your father for you, Kiera. You asked me to hurt someone. You asked me to take a man’s life. And I did. Because you needed it,” Violet said.

“I know. I know that. And I haven't had the chance to tell you how grateful I am. But that other girl—”

“Do you think I enjoyed it? Hurting someone? Do you think it was easy for me?” Violet interrupted. “It hurts me to do this, Kiera. But... you were hurting. You were hurting, and your life was going to end, and I could help!” 

“I know. I know, Vi. And I believe you! I honestly do. I just... I need to understand, okay? There were two bodies in that hotel room. And I need to understand why. Because you did it for me. Because I knew why Dad... why there was no other choice with Samuel. But if some girl would be alive if it weren’t for me...” Kiera trailed off as emotion choked her question, and she forced herself to move on. “And then these other bodies. They were found weeks ago! Violet, how often do you do this?”

Violet bit her lip hard enough that a bead of blood colored her teeth. She gripped her skirt nervously in both hands and refused to meet Kiera’s eyes again. “You don’t understand,” Violet whispered. “I thought... well. That’s not true. I knew you wouldn’t. But still. Still, I hoped you of all people would get it.”

Violet heard Kiera’s breath catch, but no response came. Not for the first few breaths. Except the weight of brown eyes, made of glass and a violent desperation to believe.

Finally, Violet heard the girl stand and cross the room. She waited for Kiera with eager anticipation as her bed accepted the weight of another body. She felt the crystal tail wrap around her waist and the trembling of a terrified friend by her side. It wasn’t the fear Kiera would have felt if she’d truly understood Violet. Rather, it was the terror of failing a friend who’d gone through hell for her. Violet was certain of it. What she felt coming from Kiera wasn’t fear of death or pain. It was shame and guilt, and a fear of inadequacy. As if to confirm this, Kiera responded at last.

“You’re right. I don’t understand. But the answer is yes. Yes, I trust you. Maybe more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. And I am asking for the same kindness in return. Trust that I will trust you if you tell me the truth. Please. I can’t not know,” Kiera begged.

Violet was in control.

“Can I... show you something?” Violet asked.

Kiera tensed, but Violet finally looked up to meet the other girl’s eyes. In those, she found a thousand emotions. Fear and anxiety were chief, but they were far from alone. Violet could see the illusions, resting in the corners where there should have been building tears. And she saw... anticipation. Pride and eager hope. Even a hint of lust, which almost made Violet recoil. She’d expected the rest more, considering how thoroughly straight for Guy the kitsune was. She wondered if her friend was demi or bi, or if she was just misreading it. 

She was a bit annoyed by the revelation, if she was right. She wanted a friend from the fox. She had a higher opinion of Kiera than of Aubrey, and she didn’t particularly want to play house to maintain control. In fact, she actively wanted to avoid it. Romance was messy, and it came with obligations that friendship lacked. She’d use it if she needed to, of course. But that would inevitably poison the relationship and demote Kiera to Aubrey’s standing. 

She’d just have to be careful. Perhaps she’d been too hasty to warn Guy away. He was useless in a fight, but if she needed to pawn Kiera’s affection off on someone, the annoyingly beautiful man would be a good choice. She’d keep the option in her back pocket, in case Kiera got any strange ideas. Whatever it was, it clearly paled in comparison to Kiera’s feelings for the tank.

For the time being, she decided to focus on the positives. Lust was just like the anticipation and hope. An emotion Kiera shouldn’t have felt, given the violence being attributed to Violet. Perhaps Kiera had a fondness for revenge stories, or just more violent tales of heroic justice. Or—as Violet thought was more likely, considering personal experience—the small taste of blood had left the fox wanting a little more. Violet figured anyone would feel the same after their first kill. Even if Kiera hadn’t been there for the act. Either way, it meant Violet had already won.

“You can trust me,” Kiera promised.

Violet offered a half-smile. One which was genuine, but designed to look forced. She was good at such expressions. And it had the intentional effect, as sympathy and anticipation built in Kiera’s expression. 

Violet stood, leaving the fox alone on the edge of the bed. The nearest flat surface was the green wall of the dorm, and Violet hesitantly walked towards it. After a deep breath and a nervous glance back at Kiera, Violet put her right hand against the wall and activated her empathy ring.

Violet Asher
Category [Yellow]
Calling <Executioner>
Degree {1}

Attributes
Agility (297)
Constitution (162)
Dexterity (258)
Endurance (182)
Perception (383)
Resistance (219)
Strength (133)
Karma (676)

Talents
Cloak of the Scout
Tools of the Trade
Karmic Eyes
Dark Court
Empathic Heart

Violet looked back and saw Kiera’s eyes widen as she read the impossible carvings. She didn’t wait for the fox to find words in response. Instead, she gave her ring the mental command to describe the calling she’d chosen. It was a violent one, exactly like her real calling. But she was presenting... different implications.

Executioner

“The world has no judges and no juries. None that will deliver justice based on absolute guilt and consideration for victims. But it does have an Executioner. She is the harbinger of justice and the defender of weakness. Be it man or beast, the Executioner targets the filth who cause needless pain, and she ends them. A victim of disregard herself, she will find those who suffer under the weight of hate, and she will act as their champion. While the Executioner may have a permanent solution to harm, her true purpose is to protect those crushed under a weight as tragic as her own.”

Note - The Executioner has not just talent, but duty. Should she neglect her purpose and leave the guilty alive, her own blood will take the place of theirs. She will execute justice, or she will die.”

While Violet let the implications of the calling sink in, she allowed her talents to display. A talent to present her as a lower-category scout. Karmic Eyes to determine guilt with absolute certainty. A trap spell that would create a circular shadow connected to Violet and hold onto targets inside it. And finally, a talent which helped her feel what victims feel, to help her understand the depth of an abuser’s crimes. Good talents for the calling she was displaying. And close enough to reality to be believable.

“Oh, Christ...” Kiera whispered. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” Violet whispered. “There is a lot I need to explain, I know. But... would it maybe be okay if I didn’t? I can tell you who I’ve been forced to... you know. And who is unrelated. But... I hate my calling, Kiera. It’s a cage for me. But I am also glad I have it. Because I can save people like you. Like me. Like the children dying because of those leeches stealing clarity. I’m glad someone is doing it. But... I don’t like talking about it. It hurts. It makes me want to vomit, and it turns the world to mud around me. And I just... I just want to keep being your friend. Can you just... can you trust me? I really only hurt abusers, and only when it saves the abused. I fucking swear, Kiera. I swear,” Violet explained, an increasingly insistent sob tearing through every other word.

Kiera was frozen. But she could clearly see tears running down Violet’s cheeks. Seemingly involuntary convulsions forced Violet’s body into spasms, and deep breaths pushed her chest out at random intervals.  So the fox finally moved, crossing the room with the grace of a Kitsune and wrapping the reaper in a hug.

“Screw that. You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to,” Kiera promised. “But... but I want to fucking help.”

End of Book 2