Chapter Text
Darkness engulfed you.
It swallowed your entirety as if you had been thrown at sea, deep and frightening as the oxygen had been raptured from planet earth, leaving you to choke.
Your sternum felt as if it had been crushed as Vincent held your hand with an outworldly might;
He had rummaged his right pocket beneath his jacket before entering the cold mausoleum—
The silence had been suddenly broken by a desperate pacing outside his home, heavy, brute footsteps as the lights in the ceiling flickered.
The electricity hadn’t been completely cut off—
It was unstable.
The offspring of an unruly, desperate attempt to seize some form of control;
Your breathing was labored, you couldn’t panic. You couldn’t falter.
A metallic click made you realize Vincent, somehow, had a gun with him.
How? Since when? What the—
“Get to the kitchen, you know the way. Stay down.” His tone was assertive, rigid as gunmetal as your hand left his, and the steps grew louder.
A thud after another as your heart choked on your throat—
You dashed to the kitchen, getting down as if you had been waiting for something to explode, praying that no shard would pierce you.
This was a nightmare, something torn, wicked and sickening. Why was this even happening to you? Well, you still hadn’t got an answer to that question that would cross your mind every single damn day for a different reason.
A loud, stunning noise followed by a deafening sound, the flickering of lights almost inducing you into a spiral of madness—
Even though it felt like you had been a breath away from a heart attack, it all suddenly felt light, as if an ouroboros had been ripped in half.
Whatever happened back there would hit you like a herald of change.
“Breathe.” That was all you managed to think.
At the hospital, Caitlyn’s mind was filled with tempest, her stomach hurled in desperation.
The doctor said Luc would be perfectly fine after a few harsher meds against his fever, but a couple of evaluations were needed;
His body had been fighting off something that was yet unknown, but Mikhail tried his best for her not to freak out.
Still, her mind hurled;
Where were you?
You wouldn’t pick up the phone at the few times she could try and give you a call, and the little strange feeling she’d always have in the back of her mind every time she thought about you in high school grew louder and louder—
Misha didn’t understand.
You and Caitlyn had been practically sewn together, and even a whole decade couldn’t diminish the love she had nurtured for you…
Vincent wouldn’t pick it up either.
Cait chose to believe that you were in good hands—
“Oh, darling.” Mikhail said as he pulled Caitlyn into a hug as he noticed she had been spiraling;
She breathed in—
Luc needed his mother, and choking on an almost irrational fear couldn’t really help her;
She trusted you thoroughly, and that would have to be enough.
Back at your lover’s house, it seemed like the very matter of your nightmares had been brought to life.
The lights kept on flickering, as if the sabotaging of the wires had been horridly done, as you sat there paralyzed—
Vincent called out your name, but you couldn’t speak.
He paced towards the kitchen, finally coming across the pitiful image of you sat on the floor with an empty expression;
You had almost no color on your lips, as if you were pretty much dead—
It felt like it.
A stench of blood was all you could sense, but there wasn’t any way you could figure out what the fuck happened—
It felt like a blur. Rolf was a tall, rough man, yet he was desperate.
He had been getting sloppy for some time now, and Vincent somehow took that chance.
He kneeled, holding you against his rushing heart;
“You’re alright. It’s over. You’re okay, mon cœur…” he cooed, holding your face solely with his left hand as his right one had been maculated in ways you tried to ignore.
“Vincent—“
You could only catch a few glimpses of his face as the light flickered
“—You’ve gotta call Cait. She’ll know what to do, I—“
There was no way for you not to stutter, your thoughts were a major mess, entangled like yarn;
“I’ll get her here, darling.” Something in his tone had shifted. He sounded almost… dead, in a way.
Your eyes darted towards his fingers rummaging through the dim screen’s numbers, dialing what you had known by heart by now—
Caitlyn’s number
Was it really over? Was this hell finally going to set you free? It made no sense;
Was he dead? How come?
Vincent hadn’t shot him. You knew that;
The sound of a choking man was way too particular for you not to notice, even when your ears were deafened by an almost satanic ringing.
How could’ve he just killed him?
Was he left to bleed? Half dead? Whatever, you couldn’t really think too much, so you’ve simply handed your limp soul to the man before you.
It was the doom you’ve feared for so long;
An emotional overload bold enough to make you numb dawned upon you like the final stage of metastasis—
He spoke, but you couldn’t hear anything other than the silence in your mind;
This is the end.
Was it… past midnight? Probably.
Caitlyn kept on drifting between being awake and sleeping once again, holding her son’s small hand in a way of saying she was, undoubtedly, there.
Mikhail snored by her side, being slightly startled every time his wife woke up as if she had been trapped in one of those dreams in which the dreamer is falling from the tallest places, waking up in an almost resurrection.
And so it went, again, and again, before she actually woke up, sighing—
She was hungry—
Painfully so.
She might as well just go out for a little stroll, getting a cup of coffee or something decent to survive the night.
Caitlyn left the room quietly, her pacing like the one of a cat;
The hospital seemed strangely empty, an eerie atmosphere engulfing it.
She was blinded by bright lights as she went towards the desolate cafeteria, where no one seemed to be behind the balcony… maybe no one really was responsible for bland overpriced snacks past midnight.
The half asleep woman poured herself some bland black coffee, leaving a few pennies in the counter—
A single gulp followed before the phone in her pocket buzzed, leading her into picking it up in a fraction of a second;
“Hello?” Her half asleep part was suddenly jolted awake as she spoke.
“Cait? Hi, I—“
“Vincent?” Cait sounded almost in disbelief;
“Listen, I need you to come by… something’s happening with her.” He sounded almost as in shock as the woman in the other side of the line.
“What— what the hell happened, Vince? God damn it, where’s she?”
“She’s fine, just in… some form of shock, I guess—“
“For Christ’s sake, what happened? Why wouldn’t any of you two pick y’all’s damn phones up?—“
“I might’ve killed him, Caitlyn.”
Silence. For a few seconds, but it felt like forever;
How? When? Why? Still, Caitlyn didn’t have time to know it all—
First, she needed to help you.
“Shit, I— alright, okay. Listen, I’ll get there as soon as possible, alright?”
“W-wait, where are you?”
“I’ll be there.”
She hung up.
Indeed, she was in the worst possible position to just leave, but what could she do? You needed her, and you all were in need of finally figuring out this shitshow for once and for all.
After leaving a pained note to Mikhail, as his sleepy haze scrambled his senses, Caitlyn took her husband’s car and went straightaway to Vincent’s house.
At his place, the strangest of things kept happening;
He tried fixing the electricity cables as you stood with a blank expression by his side, as he refused to leave you alone inside, even though it was now clear that the man the whole town had been hunting down was pretty much dead, almost miraculously so.
After the lights had been on, he brought you inside by the back door, leading you upstairs-
You were almost paralyzed in an irrational state of fear, and seeing a corpse wouldn’t really fix it;
Vincent sat with you, as if there was a dead man downstairs.
His hands were covered in dry, darkened blood, and even in your confused state, it dawned upon you—
You just had to ask him what had he done.
“Vincent?” You turned to him, your jaw quivering less than before.
“Yes, my dear?” He tried to sound as calm as possible, but his eyes were the ones of a frightened creature;
“What… what did you do?”
Silence.
“He was vulnerable.” A strand of silver hair fell over his gentle face;
“How come?”
“I’m… not sure yet, sweetheart.”
“How—“
“A knife to his jugular.”
You were speechless. You wondered how it was even possible… maybe that was what he had in his pocket earlier—
What a pathetic ending for an almost smooth killer like Rolf;
A slip, a small knife, and so he bled to death, defeated by the prey he had been hunting so desperately.
It felt almost ridiculous, yet life had its stupid twists, and you were just glad to know he would never be able to catch you now… nor anyone, for that matter.
“Birdie?…” he noticed you had been drifting away again.
“What will be of the trial now that he’s…dead?” Would they come after him? What could they possibly do? You weren’t sure, and it felt like even a dead criminal could somehow fuck up your life any further.
“They all know it wasn’t you. There isn’t a possible way for them to just try and blame this on you, dearest. This whole town’s greatest concern right now is a freak that has been slaughtering people, and he’s dead, Bird.”
Dead. It still felt surreal.
“Where’s she… where—“
“Caitlyn’s coming. She’ll help us both, okay?”
The stench of blood in that household was getting harder and harder not to notice, and the realization that your lover had killed someone for your sake started to sink in.
When Cait finally knocked on his door, Vincent guided you towards the sound as if he had been handing you out to her like a frail gift—
He opened it up, after guiding you through the flickering darkness, and you pathetically tried not to look at the corpse in the middle of the room.
Caitlyn greeted Vincent briefly before she hugged you.
That might’ve been the warmest, kindest embrace you’ve ever been in, as if Caitlyn had already known it all, and for a brief second, it felt like she could read your mind and see through your soul.
“Oh, sweetheart—“
She gave Vincent a heartbroken look as she hugged you in a quiet, most sincere “thank you” practically written in her eyes.
After parting the hug, Caitlyn seemed pensive—
“Is he…”
“Yes.” He said without hesitation.
“Shit. Okay, alright… well, there’s no escape. I’ll have to call ‘em.” Cait said, her hands on her hips.
“Right… what about—“
“I can leave.” You said, sounding slightly harsher than intended.
“But, Birdie…”
“Maybe they’ll be harsher on her if she’s here… they might ask some, um—“
“Fuck ass questions, we know. Still, they’ll eventually know she was here by analyzing the crime scene.” Cait said, wondering.
“I’ve been here before, it has been stated in a couple bits of the defense. They can’t really prove I’ve been here again, can they?” You sounded…blank. And undoubtedly scared, like a cornered hare.
“I… listen, Bird, I think it’s better if you stay. It’ll make sense why he came here for, considering that it adds a certain weight to your side of the trial, so—“
“I’ll stay, then.”
They looked at each other for a moment.
“Okay, then…so?”
“I’ll get them here. I mean… before this douche begins to stink.”
For a hot second, you had completely forgotten that there was a corpse a couple of centimeters away from you.
The realization hit you roughly, but what was there to do? You just needed to get through whatever the hell would happen next;
And that was when Caitlyn began to dial.
Two hours later, the questions you had been bombarded with seemed to be on the verge of melting your brain.
Caitlyn was trusted by her colleagues, and so it felt like the process was slightly less heavy than it could’ve been, at least to you.
Vincent had been questioned as well, but by far, they were more suspicious of you, yet their tendency to mentally throw stones at your every action had to gradually diminish, considering that every piece of evidence added up to your story of self defense, the theory of Rolf being a desperate maniac that tried his best to send you to jail instead of him, getting more and more tangible to the point you had been convinced that it was exactly what's happened.
Damien, the skeptical cunt, as you’d mentally called him frequently, had been there, his gaze scrutinized every answer you gave to one of his colleagues, a bit far from the spot where they found the body;
The one asking you endless, strange, almost meaningless questions was a young woman—
A blonde with green eyes and short red nails.
You’d never seen her before, assuming she must’ve been new—
Did she think you were some psycho? You weren’t sure.
“Why exactly were you doing at Mr. Renzi’s house at the time the killer had begun to stalk you?” She asked at a certain point. It felt like the question wasn’t really hers, as she sounded unsure—
“As I’ve said, he’s my lawyer. I’ve come a few other times to figure out how our defense would work out the next day.” You didn’t sound like anything at all. Normally, you’d even sound nervous if nothing had happened, but at that moment, you just felt numb.
“I see. Have you witnessed the moment in which Mr. Renzi was attacked?”
Before being able to reply, you caught a glimpse of something outside the window—
That fucking bird.
It had been so long… was it even really there? Or were you straight up hallucinating?
It looked at you as you stared at him, startled at the young officer’s confused look as she said your last name—
“I— N-no, I was— there wasn’t any light. We were led to believe that Rolf did something to, um— mess up the house’s electric system… it all happened so fast.” You knew you were on the verge of just going nuts. There was no remaining composure as you tried to gather the few remnants of sanity to answer her questions properly?
When she seemed to be unsure of how to answer you, Caitlyn showed up next to Damien, as if she could’ve felt your distress.
After exchanging a few words with him, both Damien and the girl left, and even with a dubious expression on their faces, your answers would have to suffice.
“Bird?” She said, laying a hand in your tense shoulder, resurrecting you from the trance that bird’s appearance had induced you to—
“Yeah? Everything okay?” Funnily enough, she could’ve asked you the same thing.
“You can go now. I’ll figure the rest out, ‘kay?” She caressed the spot where her hand had laid on—
“Oh. Right. Alright.”
“Can you drive?” She sounded worried;
You couldn’t answer that. You could, right? You were stunned, not drugged… but it kind of felt the same, or at least you imagined it wouldn’t feel so different.
“I— I’ll get a cab, I’ll do something—“
“At this hour?” Caitlyn sighed;
“I’ll take you. C’mon.” She sounded tired, but not frustrated.
“Seriously, Cait, you’ve done so much, don’t—“
“Bird, just… let’s get out of here, alright? You’re fine, everything’s okay, and taking you home won’t kill me. Let’s go.”
You two eventually got inside Mikhail’s car, as you noticed Caitlyn didn’t get into her own and quickly explained why—
“I’ll go all the way back to the hospital once you’re home. Luc’s a little sick.”
Your heart plummeted in your chest… had she left her son to go all the way to Vincent’s home just so she could clean up the path of destruction that kept following you?
“Don’t worry, he’s fine.” She said, after seeing your frightened look, getting on the driver’s seat.
So many times… everything was fine to Cait. Or at least, that’s what she wanted you to believe in.
When sitting down and closing the door with a thud on your right, you allowed yourself to just relax.
It all felt surreal—
Caitlyn began to talk as the car’s engine began revving, but you couldn’t make out a single word she said.
Fatigue swallowed you, and there you floated between the realms of sleep and the waking world—
Maybe none of this was real.