91 SEARING 121
And I'm still trying to figure out if it
Always, always, always has to hurt
Always, always, always has to hurt
Adora stared first at the corpse, then at the mess said corpse was making. Blood began to cool on the floor beneath the body, and in her clothes. Even in death, mothers were a hassle. Their mother had been much the same. And yet — so different. Florian had been lucky. But maybe Florian had needed the gentle touch to be where he was. That had been Ava’s purpose, after all. To guide him to this point. The half-breed sighed as she stood, considered the mess a little bit more.
Blood clung to her clothes and onto the fur of her legs. Washing it off would be obvious, and changing clothes even more so. She could use the fear of the reconciliator against him, perhaps, but that would do nothing more than implicate her, probably. Whatever must be done, it had to be done fast.
Ava was a mother and a vessel. She would get the same treatment the half-breed’s mother had.
Her limbs quivered as she dragged the body down the hall. It wasn’t so much that the work was strenuous — it was and they were nothing more than a weak pet — but their body was tired. Her arms ached with the exertion of the earlier kill, more so now that she had to move dead weight. It had not been the same as when she’d killed their mother. She had been in the bed, then, easily moved. It was nothing to place her arms the right way. More work to deal with her antlers, but those snapped off when she’d turned the woman’s head a certain way. She wondered if Ava’s horns worked the same way.
She dropped the body in what must have been the woman’s room in life. Not more decorated than the rest of the house, but clearly more lived in. Reeked of the residual presence of a life just snuffed out. Adora almost wished she might be able to see it after all of this was said and done. But that would not be wise to return to do so soon. A plan might have been brewing in her head, but it was impeded by tangents and running thoughts that diverged from the focus of the moment.
“This is only the second time we’ve done this.” She spoke as if the dead would listen, and maybe Ava would. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be, to do. “But we are sure we can do a good job.”
There would only be so long before it got harder to move the woman, she knew. She’d seen it during her work with Dreyfus. Sometimes they would get to a scene when the bodies had been cold for a long while. Limbs stiff and hard to move. Ava would be the same way if she didn’t move quickly.
Florian had talked about his horns. The one that had snapped. How had that happened again? It’d been stepped on, yes. But Adora did not weigh as much as a fully grown human man. There was also the problem of how the woman’s horns were. Straight back, almost buried in her hair. She caressed the strands, brushed them out of the way. Such nice hair. She considered it a moment before tilting the woman’s head to the side. Just at an angle the half-breed thought might work.
Oh, but her insides. She had to be emptied out. It was only right, as a vessel. You couldn’t well fill a full vessel with something. She giggled, flicked at her forehead. A speck of blood remained from the action. The horns could wait. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere, either. Before she could forget the tools around her, she wrenched the knife from the woman’s chest. As if there was more blood inside her, it pooled forward with the removal of the knife. But only for a moment.
Adora tipped her head to the side, curious. She’d suffocated their mother, so there’d been a lot less blood. It’d also been a lot less tiring. But this would be worth it. She was certain. It was with a soft hum that she plunged the knife into the corpse again. There was no resistance from pesky hands this time. Just that of bone and tissue. One day, she would need to consider getting someone stronger than she to do this.
The arms quivered as she struggled to pull the knife down flesh to split open the corpse’s belly. At first, she’d thought one hand would have sufficed. But no, it was a job that required two, and then some. Her jaw hurt from how hard she’d clenched it. Her arms, where they had ached before, were burning. She stopped, grip limb as she sagged forward. The knife had moved some, but not enough. There was still so much skin to cut open, but at least she could see something. Her knowledge of anatomy was rudimentary, and she didn’t have time to go studying the corpse. That was not Ava’s purpose.
She resumed the task of gutting the woman with renewed fervor. Body quivering, she worked as quietly as she could. The body jerked with each new drag of the knife through flesh. She would have laughed at it if she weren’t so focused. Though, several giggles threatened to spill from her lips. She was supposed to be quiet while she worked. A press of the back of her hand to force the giggles back, swallowing them into her own stomach while she opened up Ava’s.
Adora did not know how long it had taken her, but she had succeeded. She’d cut through clothes and skin to get to the lukewarm insides that lay beneath. Her victory over the small toil was a short-lived one. There was still more work to do. But she smiled all the same as she let her fingers slide over glistening innards before pulling them out. Tossed them to the side without a care until she got to what must have been the stomach. It flopped, flapped, sagged in her hands. Piercing it with the knife was easier this time. Nothing hard in the way. Just liquid that spewed forward as she cut into it.
She remembered the way to do this. The process. All things were supposed to have a process, a ritual. “We have to do this right, or it won’t work.” More words said to the corpse that wouldn’t be answered. Perhaps enough time had passed that the body was growing stiff. Opening her mouth was another task that took more effort than it should have. At least cutting out her tongue was as easy as cutting out a carrot. Or a slice of ham at a dinner party. Hmm, ham. All of this work did make Adora hungry, among other things. It slipped between her fingers, dripping blood slow back into the open mouth it had been removed from. For a moment, she shook it to watch it wiggle between her fingers. Another set of muffled giggles as she watched it filled the space between she and the body.
The half-breed sighed before setting the tongue aside. Her gaze slid up to the woman’s eyes. Still wide with shock. Dead gems sitting in their sockets with no light in them. These were easier still to deal with than gutting the woman. They gave as her fingers pressed into them, weeping fluids as digits crushed the eyeballs. No more were they jewels, no more were they dead. Just empty. But they would be replaced soon enough.
It was not much higher that Adora had to look to see the horns. The same horns she’d admired for a moment earlier. Now, though, the time for admiration had passed. Once more, the woman’s head was tilted as the half-breed positioned herself over them. Her hooves could work well to sever them, but it might be more in the angle and weight. Florian had said the breaking of his had hurt.
Ava would not feel the pain.
The first stomp, while well-intentioned, wasn’t strong enough. Just enough to form a crack in the horn, but missing the power needed to break it completely. It took several more to get it right. But finally, the first horn snapped and bits of it crunched under her hooves. Not quite fine dust, but enough that she had only to shake her hooves to get them off. She bent over, turned the corpse’s head to the other side and set to work on the second horn.
Enough had snapped from the woman’s temple that it could work. Their mother’s antlers had been full, so full. Some pruning had been necessary to fit them into the sockets, but not a true lysanrin’s horns. A full-blood lysanrin’s horns didn’t need such maintenance for the art Adora intended to create. Drawing up more of her strength, she shoved the horns into the emptied sockets. The remnants of Ava’s eyes squelched as the horns went through. Not fully through her skull, but enough to be lodged into place.
Now all that was left was the final touches. For this, Adora was most excited. Her craftsmanship was shaky at best, but she was trying. And she’d said she’d do this right. Fingers carded through the corpse’s hair, gentle like someone who’d cared for her in life. But Adora had never cared about the woman herself, so much as her purpose. She still didn’t care, but Ava had to look presentable.
She sat the body up, labored to force it onto its knees. Labored still to pull the arms up and lace the fingers together. They slipped apart more than once, until she’d accidentally pressed too hard and broken one of them. Panic had hit her until she realized that it worked to keep them clasped together. She sighed, satisfied before opening the woman’s jaw further.
The necklace around the corpse’s neck glittered in the light. Oh, how pretty it could look somewhere else. The body jerked again as Adora ripped the necklace from its spot. The chain snapped without resistance; dead weight was good for something. She fit it neatly into the woman’s mouth. Then, the last piece to the puzzle. She placed the tongue in the stomach, letting it sit in the fluids that remained, lolling out just slightly.
Adora stepped back to admire her work, and saw that it was good. So good.
She turned, a grin on her face as she walked toward the wall. A grin that nearly remained on her face as she drove her head into the wall hard enough to daze her. Stars danced in her vision, hands reaching out to chase them before darkness encroached on her sight and swallowed her whole.
Bae gasped as he shot up. He felt...sticky. Slimy. His head hurt and his mouth tasted like copper. His nose, though, hurt the most. His hands shot up to grasp at it, sitting up far too fast. His vision swam, but he didn’t miss the blood. So much blood, enough that he felt the scream before he heard it.
Footsteps thudded down against wood floors. The reconciliator barreled into the room, following the screams. He would find Bae scrambled back to the wall, gaze trained on the blood and guts strewn around the room. Bae wouldn't notice, of course, that he looked just as fit to vomit as the spellbreaker felt. Though, it was a matter of when the antlered fellow would stop crying and screaming. Blood streaked from his nose, probably broken. He couldn't feel it, though. Not past the throbbing headache produced by his own screams and the impact of his head from the wall.
He looked up to the reconciliator as he was pulled to his feet, the other's cloak thrown over him before he was scooped up. His head was turned away from the mess of the room before he was rushed out. They stopped in the kitchen, the pot boiling over. The flame was put out and the reconciliator returned his attention to the spellbreaker.
"Did you see what happened?"
"N-no! This One saw nothing!" He winced, lifted a hand to his head. "His head hurts so bad. How did this happen?"
Neither of them would have the answer, but Adora would. She would know and she wouldn't tell. Not yet. It wasn't time to. But, maybe, someone would figure it out. Someone that mattered. And without them knowing, all Bae could do was cry. The consoling the other attempted to do only seemed to make it worse, and they ought not draw attention. Not here, in this place.
Bae was scooped up once more, and taken as far away as the reconciliator could get him.
