Book 3: Chapter 19 - It’s Called “Friendly Fire” Because You Do It With a Smile

It’s funny how red blood didn’t interest the police enough to force the issue, isn’t it?

After all, who cares if a Category Red is murdered?
Or an orange. Or a yellow, or a green.

Why would that be enough to push back against Bouvier?

As always. Blue blood is the only thing our protectors care about.
Any shade of blue, and any color who pays them.
—Unknown Protestor

Violet was having a good day. Everything was falling into place exactly as she wanted. The trip was a hassle, yes, but she was making it work for her. She’d managed to push Aubrey and Guy to orange, which was oddly satisfying. She didn’t want either to make it too close to her degree, of course. She knew she might need to fight them one day. But dragging them kicking and screaming into being useful to her was... fun. Like evolving Pokémon. She was actually considering helping Chase advance as well. Maybe she’d bully him into tutoring her. That would be funny, and it would improve her math grade. 

That was a thought for another time, however. She had other plans tonight. She’d bought Guy dinner, which would probably make Kiera jealous. But she’d managed to nurse him back to his usual false confidence. And his most recent memory of her wasn’t the training bat she’d used on him for a week. That was important. She’d left him telling jokes and talking about how handsome he was, and she was confident he’d be ready for the mission. 

She’d also made her stop at Koral’s dorm, and she’d fed Demetri. She left enough food and water for a week, and she had the AC and a small generator set up. He’d be alright until other arrangements could be made.

It was her last night in Prism. At least, her last night before the mission she was being sent on. Or both missions, rather. One from Bouvier and one from Cyan. It was time to put an end to the stalemate between Chromatic and Prism City police. That was her last chore before she felt comfortable leaving. There were a lot of reasons for this, but the most important was her own absence. She couldn’t kill anyone on her list while she was halfway across the country. The miles of ruined landscape would make it difficult. She had also been ordered to get blood on her hands during the trip.

She’d been more than a little reckless on her first forray through the mist. She was happy to admit that. And that left her with a problem. If the Cruel Ivy Killer suddenly stopped killing while she was out of town, that would be suspicious. If the police looked into her trip to Prism and learned how many suspicious or unverified deaths there were, that would be worse. If someone died on this trip as well? All while the deaths in Prism had stopped? She figured she might as well wear a name tag with her moniker on it. 

She had a few tricks up her sleeve to deal with this, but the first issue would be handled by the end of the day. It wouldn’t be all that strange if the deaths stopped at the same time as a major change in the investigation. Everyone knew the killer either lived or worked at Chromatic Academy. That was no mystery. Bouvier had practically confirmed it with his stubborn attempts to protect her. On the bright side, that meant the full-scale investigation on campus would work in her favor. Of course the killer had stopped for a few weeks when the police finally put a microscope over the school. It would’ve been stranger if they hadn’t. Or it would’ve implied they’d been wrong about the school entirely. That outcome would’ve been less than ideal.

But that wasn’t going to happen. In less than twenty-four hours, Bouvier’s influence would fail him, and the police would be crawling all over campus. Violet’s mission would be incidental. It might overlap with a lull in the killer’s activity, but that would be expected. In fact, any scrutiny regarding the mission would fall on Bouvier’s shoulders. He wouldn’t be able to hide the reckless move from the public. Not if the police were combing through everyone’s records. 

It wasn’t exactly foolproof on its own, but Violet wasn’t worried about that. She’d just take things one step at a time and hope all the dominoes would fall in the right places. 

“Are you ready?” Violet asked.

Chase froze. He’d been following her at her instruction, but he had no idea what they were there for. It was obvious he’d never even been to the cyan district before. He looked around the karaoke room she’d brought him to, then shook his head.

“What are we doing?” he asked, trepidation clear in his voice. “I can’t really sing...” 

Violet followed his eyes to the machine. It was the only thing in the room that wasn’t covered in cyan crystal, with the exception of the furniture and the screen for lyrics. It was amusing how nervous it seemed to make him. Still, she clicked her tongue. “You never have any fun at all, do you?” she asked. 

He looked at her like she’d just suggested filling a bathtub with acid. “Not... recently?” he replied. 

Violet giggled at that and sauntered over to him with her hands behind her back. “Relaaax. I didn’t bring you here to sing. Although we can do that first, if you like. Help you shake some of those nerves. You know, constant anxiety isn’t good for you. Mr. Shepard says it’s bad for both mental and physical health,” she teased.

Chase swallowed hard as she leaned into him, her face far closer to his than polite society usually allowed. He blinked and looked to the side, trying to avoid such aggressive eye contact. “What, then?” he pushed.

“I just need you to do a little favor for me,” Violet said. “We came here because it’s soundproofed. Everyone in the district would overhear us if we spoke about this in public, and that would probably be bad. Wait, why do you look more nervous now? I said you didn’t have to sing!”

“I don’t want to help you with anything,” he murmured. 

“Oh? I guess I can just kill you then. Or wait. That wouldn’t be fair to Alex, would it? I killed him, and all he ever did was suck at romance. Giving you an equal punishment would be in poor taste, huh? I guess I could make it slower and more painful, though. Like I said. This place is soundproofed. But my man was mauled to death by multiple hedron, so that might be a high bar to clear,” Violet replied. As she did, she stood up straight again and started pacing. She put a thoughtful finger to her lips as she did, then paused and turned toward Chase. She tilted her head and met his eyes. “Well. I guess I’m happy to wing it and just see how I do. What do you think?”

Chase swallowed hard. “What favor do you need, exactly?” he asked. 

“We’re doing that instead, are we?” Violet replied, a childish pout on her face. “Well. That’s fine, too, I guess. We can always do the experiment some other time. This will be faster, though, and I don’t really want to rent the room for more than an hour. Alright, so what I need is simple. This building is down the street from the main police station. Well. Way down the street. About a half-hour walk, I guess. Anyway, there is a motel on the way. One used mostly by lower categories visiting their family here. The one with the tower in its logo, even though it’s only two stories. I want you to leave ahead of me and go to the police station. Ask for directions if you get lost, but it’s really just a straight line. When you get there, ask to make a report. And tell them the Cruel Ivy Killer is staying in room 217. Can you do that, sport?”

Chase stared at her for a long moment before opening dry lips and forcing his question out. “Why?” he tried.

Violet crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. “It’s not very polite to ask so many questions. Can’t you just do a favor for a friend?” she asked.

Chase was trembling as he tried to respond, but he forced the words out anyway. “If I do this, are you going to kill someone? Because of me?” he said.

Violet uncrossed her arms and clasped her hands together behind her back again. “Is that the line?” she asked. “If I say yes, will you accept a painful death instead of helping me?”

Chase refused to look at her, keeping his eyes locked on the ground. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But... I hope so.”

Violet split her face with a too-wide grin, then strolled over to him again. She didn’t stop until her chest was centimeters from his, and any twitch from either would force physical contact. He was taller than her, and she had to look up to continue smiling at him. Even so, she felt like she was miles above him, and he obviously felt the same. 

“Should we find out?” she whispered.

Chase bit his lip and clenched his eyes closed. His fists curled as well, but he didn’t move. So Violet stood on the tips of her toes so her lips could hover right outside his ear.

“Oh, don’t take everything so seriously. I won’t kill you,” she said. “I promise I won’t touch anyone. I simply want to say a few words.”

The breath Chase released was heavy and relieved, yet still anxious. “Okay,” he agreed.

Chase was such a helpful little pet. Fun, too. Violet had never had a real one. They were affordable in Prism, but hard to come by back in Roseville. Her parents could afford to have one brought by train, of course. But she had little interest in animals. Well, except for foxes, but she hadn’t realized that as a child. 

In the stories, serial killers always tortured squirrels and their neighbors' dogs, and maybe a cat if they were particularly evil. And some historical murderers had done just that. But in reality, that was mostly invented for fiction. She wouldn’t have wanted to hurt a pet if she’d had one. But she wouldn’t have wanted to play with one, either. Animals were just animals. Some were cute, and she’d enjoy petting them once or twice. But she wouldn’t want them dependent on her. She just didn’t have the mindset to care for another creature. Demetri notwithstanding.

But Chase... Chase was fun. 

She understood why it was different. Violet didn’t love blood or gore. She didn’t revel in pain itself. In fact, if she so much as stood on a cat’s tail, she’d probably feel more guilt than she did over Caitlyn. That was because, as far as she could tell, humanity was uniquely cruel. 

She was under no illusions that she was an exception to this rule. She’d accepted that she wasn’t a good person. She’d wanted to be, once. Even as Chase was mocking and tormenting her. Even as Roseville was condescending to her, and her parents were disregarding her. Because people in stories were so heroic, and she wanted to be like them. But as she grew older, it became clearer. Good people only existed in fairy tales and fiction. It was why she only felt guilty in her nightmares anymore. With the right reasons, anyone would kill. 

That was why she enjoyed owning Chase. Dogs could be good or bad. But they wouldn’t be universally malicious. Cats could be friendly or chaotic, but they weren’t spiteful by nature. They were just animals. Chase, on the other hand, had tormented her for years. And now that she was in control and he wanted to play nice? He still only cared about himself.

That was why two police officers were investigating a motel right now. Because he’d agreed to help a serial killer for his own personal gain. Everyone was ready to be a killer, given the opportunity. 

Violet watched them from the manager’s office, sitting in a steel chair near the check-in desk. She intentionally displayed her nerves with every twitch of her hands. She didn’t look any of them in the eye at first. Violet tried to remain quiet and meek. She held her body as small and close to itself as possible. She kept her face covered by a scarf, only showing her blue eyes above it. When the taller one walked in front of her, she increased the pace of her breathing and shuddered. Two cyan officers would notice how terrified she was. And considering her school uniform, they’d know she lived in the same place as the Cruel Ivy Killer. All they wouldn’t know for sure? Whether she was afraid of arrest or of being killed. 

“Miss, do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” the tall officer requested. Violet tensed, then slowly looked up at him. Immediately, her face paled.

“Oh, God, please... please let me go,” she whispered.

“We’re not here to arrest you,” the man replied. “We—”

“I—I didn’t see anything! I swear to God, I didn’t see anything! I’ll never say a word!” she pleaded.

“What? Miss, I—” the officer tried, but his partner cut him off.

“See anything? What would you have seen?” the shorter man asked. Violet turned her head to look at him, gripping her knees close to her chest on top of the chair. She stared with wide eyes before allowing hope to flood into them.

“You... you really don’t know?” she asked. The question was for the senior officer. The short one who’d interrupted the first.

He shook his head, then raised an eyebrow at the tall man. “What’s she talking about?” 

“I don’t—” he started, but Violet spoke over him in a quivering yet powerful voice.

“It’s him. He’s... he’s the Cruel Ivy Killer!” she accused. “And he’s going to kill us both! Oh, Christ, he’s already doing it, I can feel it!”

It was just a little white lie. Screamed as it may have been.

But it was a plausible one. She’d chosen this motel and this station on purpose. And she’d chosen this time of night for a good reason. She knew who these cops were, and she knew how they felt about each other. Or rather, she understood how little trust they shared, and how much resentment they were fostering. Her target would believe her. Even so, he probably wouldn’t have acted so quickly on any other day. But because it was Violet, and because she was always allowed that one lie... 

“What are you talking about? What kind of fucking accusation is—”

Crack.

She hadn’t expected the gun to be so loud. She’d never heard one in real life. It made the world shake, and her heart beat faster with the sound. Even though she’d been expecting it. But as the ringing in her ears faded...

It was shockingly satisfying. 

Even more so the second and third time she heard it. The killer she’d chosen was being thorough. Which was convenient, since she could use the extra time to flee from the gunfire. Shame they wouldn’t be able to find her to ask for a statement during the aftermath. 

It was also a shame she couldn’t steal one of their guns. A weapon designed to shoot through the defenses of a cyan would be incredibly useful. Alas, they were carefully tracked, and she didn’t know how they did it. It wasn’t worth the risk, even if she had time.

She disappeared into the dark before the gunfire even stopped. Chase was going to be upset with her, but he didn’t really have any right. She’d kept her promise, after all. She hadn’t touched anyone.