Among Chaos (Viverescribere x Peregrine)





Imelda Fletcher

Fuck.

This complicated matters.

Her head nodded slowly, but the action was completely subconscious as her entire mind went into a miniature meltdown. How was this even possible, what were the odds? And to think she had been talking to a monster when she was such a young child, her life could have ended the moment she found him at the side of that grave. Yet it didn't. He had actually come back to the village, told her stories, lived peacefully... a complete opposite to his antics at Mineral Hill.

Imelda pushed herself to her feet, needing to move, and began to pace closer to the bars.

"So was the-- uh, the real Alarik... was he dead when you were-- when you took his body?" She finally asked, finally stopping and facing him, hand reaching out to hold onto one of the grimy bars.
 
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Watching the anxiety that was rapidly forming in Imelda, the distressed, unsettled expression on her face as she considered the possible connection between him and her childhood friend, almost made him wonder if, somewhere in this process, he'd made a mistake. Should he have let her go when he first saw her?

He'd never really been one to worry about connections with other creatures. Most of the time he knew the life he was living was a lie, and that everything he'd crafted around him was nothing but a carefully maintained illusion. He knew he didn't long for relationships the same way humans did. It simply wasn't a part of how he worked.

Of course, he was different from the other monsters, too. They were simple creatures, never willing to leave the massive pile of Catalyst that had formed not only the territory around them, but also the monsters themselves. He could only guess that he'd never felt that kind of instinct to remain in his 'territory' because the Nightmare Territory he'd been born in had begun to crumble not all that long after his appearance.

He was different from monsters, but he was different from people, too. However, among all of that, the instinct of an intelligent, living thing had never left him. He had things he liked, and things he disliked. He sought out the things he liked, and avoided the things he disliked. And, for whatever reason, he liked Imelda. He'd liked her when she was a brave, enthusiastic little girl, and he liked her now, even though she'd become a Slayer who was supposed to kill him without mercy given the opportunity.

That must be why watching her distress bothered him so much. He'd always been aware that there was an implicit ranking to the liking of things. He liked some things more than others. If there were two things he liked, and he could only pick one, he'd pick the one he liked more. But it seemed he'd undervalued exactly how highly ranked this liking of Imelda went.

After all, before this point, he'd rated her and his plan at about the same level of liking. And, since he could have both her and the plan at once, why wouldn't he? But now… the very fact that he was considering wrecking his plan because he didn't want to ruin her childhood memory of him meant that they couldn't even be considered to be close to the same tier of liking.

But it was far too late to consider such things now. Now... Well, he had to do what he always did. Answer Imelda's questions.

"...He was," he finally agreed, voice slow and hesitant. "He died when bandits raided his caravan and kidnapped a group of noble children they were escorting. I took his body to watch, and then planned to finish his trip for him, and lay him to rest in Hadleigh's graveyard. I finished the first step. The second… got delayed for a while."
 
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Imelda Fletcher

A long breath escaped her at his words, feeling like she had just received a full-blown punch to the stomach. What a blessing it was that she didn't know that as a child, otherwise Imelda was sure she would have had nightmares about the fact she was talking to a dead man rather than about the monsters he told her about.

It was even weirder to think that they had met all those years ago, and she may not have even realised if it wasn't for the fact she had been locked up in this cage by him.

She worried her lower lip between her teeth as a lump began to form in her throat, listening to his explanation on how he came across Alarik. Imelda was unsure as to why she was experiencing the amount of emotion that she was. Perhaps because, effectively, that part of her childhood had been a lie. And how ironic too that the stories that influenced her to become a Slayer were told to her by the very kind of creature she would later swear to destroy and kill.

"So the-- the day I found him in his hut? That was just you deciding that you'd-- ah-- you'd had enough? You'd moved on by that point, right?" Imelda questioned again, finger tapping against the bar she still had firmly gripped in hand.

Confused was an understatement. As was overwhelmed. At least it made sense now, his saving her and liking her, not wanting to kill her and all those familiar mannerisms and ways in which he spoke. But now she had to come to terms that one of the greatest influences in her life was actually a monster from the Nightmare Territories. That the same creature who killed her friends also took her under his wing and told her with infectious excitement every story he knew.

She then gave a soft, bitter laugh and turned so her back rested against the sap-covered branches, "What a fucking mess I'm in now." She muttered, more to herself than him.
 
"I'd had enough?" he repeated, more to himself than to Imelda, who was still standing far away from him. It was possible she wouldn't even be able to hear those faint questioning words. A second later, and he recollected himself.

"Perhaps, yes. You were growing up. Ready to become a Slayer, even though it would still be years before the organization accepted you. Either way, you were coming by less and less frequently. I waited a couple months to make sure, but I saw you, happy and busy with your own things. So I… moved on."

It hadn't really been a hard decision for him to leave at that point. Imelda was the only thing that was keeping him in the area, and he'd long since grown to dislike the quiet, peaceful village, where all the sights were always the same. He'd been ready to move on, but the girl's bright eyes and requests for stories had always held him back. When she stopped coming to see him so much, it seemed like the perfect moment for him to go find more interesting places to spend time.

"I wasn't going to tell you about it because I didn't think you'd want to know. Looks like I was right, but you figured it out on your own anyways.You always were so clever."

It was praise he'd often given her during her childhood. Such a clever girl.
 




Imelda Fletcher

Imelda shook her head, still in disbelief at the whole situation, before tipping it back to rest against one of the bars with her eyes closing.

She had been devastated the day she found Alarik's body in his hut. Yes, she hadn't visited him for a while but something had driven her to go and see the old ex-mercenary that day. To find him sat in the chair, the same one that he would sit in to tell her stories, he had looked like he had been expecting her visit and was preparing to tell her another of his tales. But then Imelda had thought he was playing a game with her when he didn't answer, so went to shake his shoulder, expecting him to lunge out at her with a pretend monster growl. Instead his head had lolled back and his skin frozen to touch.

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't." She muttered finally, pulling herself away from the bars and folding her arms across her chest.

Watching him carefully, Imelda returned to her seat on the opposite side of the blanket to him. Her fingertips tapped against the hardened floor as she tried to figure out just how to act with this new information, "But I don't-- I don't remember anything too horrendous happening at our village, so you weren't there for the chaos like you are here for Mineral Hill, were you? Why didn't you... do anything like what you plan for Mineral Hill?"
 
He watched Imelda turn away from the hardened branches and walk back towards him and the blanket. Although he remained silent, inside he was somewhat gratified that she was still willing to approach him. Even if she still saw him as nothing more than a monster, a fact he was no longer completely certain was true, she at least seemed to have acknowledged that he was safe. Perhaps he could finally stop worrying about her trying to fight him for no good reason.

Only now did he take the water skin Imelda had passed towards him a while ago, deciding that he no longer needed to keep such a close eye on every move she was making. That, and their long-term communication would certainly be much easier to continue if he maintained Kavlar's body well. Worst case, he'd just have to go steal a few more supplies for her.

Taking off the cap, he sipped quickly, running it around his mouth for a couple of moments before swallowing. As he lowered the bottle, he shook his head slightly. "There was nothing to do," he responded, taking another sip before closing the bottle once more and returning it to the blanket. He'd hold off on taking any food today, and simply make sure there was enough for them both tomorrow. "Hadleigh was a very quiet, peaceful town, and it never had anything particularly interesting going on. If there's nothing going on under the surface, even if I stirred up the waters a bit, nothing would happen."

It wasn't like he didn't bother to check, either. However, Hadleigh was simply too small and tight knit of a community for anything particularly murky to happen under the surface. The worst thing he ever found was some of the teenage boys swiping apples from Mr. Murdoch's orchard, and he had the feeling that the man would have simply given them some if they'd bothered to ask.
 




Imelda Fletcher

Her gaze turned down onto her fingers as they stilled in their tapping, running her tongue over her lower lip as she listened to him. It pleased her to think that her old village was that tightly knitted that there was nothing that could be done to create the chaos he seemed to seek out. She knew Hadleigh was small, but the people were close, and it had been something they had prided themselves on.

"I suppose it does all make sense now, when I think back on it." Imelda mused quietly, frowning down at the dried sap flooring, "You always had so many stories, possibly even too many for a man of Alarik's age and experience. Not to mention knowing about creatures that I'm pretty sure the Slayers hadn't even known too much about." She gave a small, humourless laugh.

A hand raised to run through her hair, a long and heavy sigh escaping her. This just complicated everything and Imelda had never before experienced such conflict of emotions. The creature sat before her had murdered Slayers and members of her team, yet now she had this attachment, this history with him that made any thought of killing him difficult. She knew that she also had to trust that the fondness he seemed to hold for her would keep her alive too, not that there would be anything she could do if he decided to move from Kalvar's body to hers. A dagger would be useless against the smoke-like form he truly possessed.

Eventually she raised her eyes back up to him, watching quietly for a moment, "So what will your plans be once all this chaos ensues for you at Mineral Hill? Will you just move on to the next place to terrorise?"
 
Listening to Imelda's musings, he generally didn't bother to try and react, instead sliding away from the blanket somewhat so that he could stretch his legs out in front of him. Leaning back on his palms, he let out a mirthless laugh at Imelda's final question. "That's not very nice," he said, tone somewhere between mocking and affronted. "I'm not the one using human lives as monster bait. I just stole a few chickens and killed the people who were trying to kill me, fair and square."

Slayers put their lives on the line to hunt monsters. All of them knew that they could one day lose their lives at the hands of a beast. As far as he was concerned, they earned their right to take the lives of monsters when they placed their own lives as the betting stakes. The people who met him just happened to lose that bet.

"But, to answer your first question, I don't know. Normally I'd just wander again for a while until something new caught my eye. However, I have the feeling I'm going to need to head far away after this little encounter at Mineral Hill is over and I let you go. I have the feeling your report is going to cause a great deal of chaos, but that kind of madness most assuredly won't be the kind I enjoy watching. I'd rather be far away from whatever brand of nonsense follows my exposure."

Once again, he was forced to acknowledge that the liking he felt towards Imelda was far beyond the scope of just about any other kind of like he'd experienced before. He'd always been careful never to reveal himself, and considering that humanity had never really dreamed a human they knew and spoke to on a regular basis could be a monster, it had generally been a pretty easy thing to maintain. Now, he was going to thoroughly reveal himself by letting Imelda go. At best, her superiors would think her mind had been damaged by the loss of her teammates and many days in Nightmare Territory; that she'd conjured strange illusions to comfort herself. At worst, they'd take her seriously, and start trying to invent countermeasures.

He didn't have much confidence in their ability to do anything to him when they knew nothing about him, but Slayers were very good at coming up with strange plans in an attempt to deal with the oddities that came out of Nightmare Territory. And that simply sounded inconvenient.
 




Imelda Fletcher

Her lips parted to agree with him, saying that yes, perhaps it would be best for him to lay low and stay away from this place for a while. Then she closed her mouth again as she realised, he was right. Her report was going to cause a lot of chaos, confusion and concern. The lives of everyone in the Nightmare Territory would be changed if her superiors decided that she was telling the truth, and hadn't gone insane with seeing her friends murdered and spending so long within the depths of the Silent Forest.

People would begin questioning their friends, neighbours, even loved ones. There would be no knowing if there were more of his kind and, if there were, if they were possessing a human body or not. Or at least not until the Slayers figured out a way to test all of this. Suspicion and caution would be rife, distrust rampant.

Then there was him. This monster right in front of her. Could she really turn him in now, knowing what she did? That he was the one that influenced so much of her childhood, and for the best too? Not to mention that he had kept her alive. Sure he had dragged her into the depths of the forest, surrounded by dangers that she herself wouldn't be able to face without his help and she would die if she even tried. But he had kept her alive.

"You've definitely put me in a very compromising position." She admitted, looking off to the side. Imelda sighed tiredly, running her fingers raggedly through her hair.

She wasn't sure what else she could say to him. It was the truth. It was her job to do just that, expose him and find ways to control or kill his kind. At the same time, he was a part of her life, her history. If he ever got caught, that would all be destroyed and she would feel guilt for the rest of her life.

Uncaring any more to the potential dangers he posed, Imelda laid back and rested an arm behind her head as she stared upwards, "Fuck." She muttered, free hand rubbing over her face, "What a fucking mess."
 
"Compromising?" he repeated, mildly confused. Under normal circumstances, he would have said he knew what that word meant. In the particular context it was used, it should mean a position where she felt insecure and guilty. But what reason could there be for her to feel guilty? They were, after all, just discussing what he would be doing after he let her go. By human logic, he was fairly sure that he was the one who was supposed to be feeling compromised, since all his secrecy would get blown out of the water as soon as he let Imelda go back and she made a report.

Unless…

A thought suddenly occurred to him, and the lazy lounging posture he'd adopted only moments before was suddenly broken. He sat up fully, curling his legs around behind him and leaning slightly towards Imelda, as though trying to show exactly how attentive he was being to her. "Are you, perhaps…"

It was almost too much for him to ask, because he felt that there was no way what he could be thinking was true. Imelda was a loyal and dedicated Slayer. He'd trained that into her himself, albeit incidentally. All the stories he'd told her had only made her more determined to protect humanity from the terrors that came from Nightmare Territory, rather than scaring her off from the idea like he'd intended. But he was a monster, and she was a Slayer. He'd killed her teammates. She was duty bound to report him.

Wasn't she?

He swallowed nervously, the reflexive movement coming from somewhere deep inside Kavlar's body. There was nothing to do but ask. "Considering not telling them about me? About what happened?"
 
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Imelda Fletcher

Her head turned to look at him, brow furrowed and lips turned downwards at her conflicting anxiety. Hearing the words said out loud, it sounded ridiculous. It was her duty to report him - both as a new and unidentified monster, and also for his murdering of her teammates. But the knowledge she now held made the thought of turning him in, of letting her superiors know about him...

It mad her stomach twist.

Imelda turned her head away and placed her other arm over her eyes, exhaling heavily. She really didn't want to answer that question, simply because she didn't know the full answer to it.

"I don't know."

The words were full of uncertainty, something she didn't enjoy feeling. Imelda relished being in control, knowing what was going on and what to do. But in this instance, that wasn't the case. There were so many, too many, elements out of her control.

"I have to tell them something... there are four dead Slayers and I would have been missing for days but..." She trailed off, knot tightening in her stomach at the possibility of lying to her superiors. Of lying about how her friends perished. It could cause so much backlash, withholding her knowledge from them. But this monster was once someone she considered... a friend.

She shook her head, moving her arm from over her eyes to rest it under her head with the other arm, "Please don't ask me again. I don't have an answer for you." Her voice was rough, strained.
 
"...Very well." More than anything at that moment, he longed to push for an answer. He wanted to know, wanted to see what kind of position he occupied in Imelda's world. But, he could not. As curious as he was, and as much as Imelda's potential reciprocation of his interest excited him in a way he wasn't able to explain, he knew that this wasn't the moment to push. He understood that humans weren't as good at understanding their own thoughts as he was. Imelda hadn't been dishonest when she said she didn't know. If he pushed, it could very well have the opposite effect than what he clearly desired.

Gaining her recognition.

After all, they both had plenty of time. It would take a day or more still before the people at Mineral Hill would give up hope that the Slayer party would return, and a few more days beyond that before their messenger birds would be able to deliver the news to the Masters. After that, it would be days at best, and potentially weeks at worst, before the next Slayer party would arrive. Hopefully the fate of Imelda's team, a well respected team if the amount of damage they'd been able to deal to him was any indication, would encourage the Masters to reconsider their strategy.

There was plenty of time for Imelda to consider how she felt. And he would accompany her during that time.

"I will bring you more supplies tomorrow. Enough so that I can take care of this body, too." He had to make sure it didn't rot, after all. Trying to get around a dead body's natural necrotization through alchemical mutation was far less safe than simply restarting and maintaining the body's natural systems, so he'd almost always preferred the latter. "If you would like to speak further, about anything, let me know."
 




Imelda Fletcher

Imelda kept track of the time that passed by using the dagger she kept hold of, scratching lines into the dried sap. It was a difficult task, since the sap wasn't very relenting, however she did her best to make a slight dent in the floor so she could keep count. It also helped her stay sane, she wasn't sure how she would be if she had no clue as to what day she was on.

Alarik seemed to do the best he could in regards to bringing her supplies, especially considering he had no human body in which to do so, and Imelda began to take pleasure in the small wins - such as him landing a roast chicken, a leg of lamb, or even some pork ribs. While she was being fed, it definitely wasn't up to her usual intake, but at least it was still too early to see if she had really drastically changed. She wasn't starving, but the lack of weapon work made her concerned for her muscle definition and fitness. So Imelda attempted to run through her stretches and the limited drills she could do while confined. Yet another way to keep her mind occupied.

However she missed the feeling of a sword in her hand, the bite of bow string against her fingers, all things that she would have had access to if she wasn't held captive. The dagger was not the same, while it helped with a few things... it wasn't the same.

Conversations were held with Alarik each day, however they were overshadowed with her uncertainty on what she wished to do if he would ever let her go. She still was undecided on her immediate actions once she was freed, although the longer she spent with him, the question of if it would be so bad if he went along undetected became more frequent. As soon as she caught her wandering thoughts, she reined them back in, feeling like she was betraying all the knew just for thinking that.

Then the thought of their first conversation came slithering back into her mind, just like the Devil's Advocate. Reminding her of what she had figured out. That Mineral Hill used humans as bait for the larger monsters to get Catalyst... and that the Masters were taking a cut for turning a blind eye. The idea that she worked for people who would do that nauseated her, and made her consider if Alarik was better than her superiors. While, yes, he was trying to get this secret uncovered for his own desires of chaos... it could potentially put at stop to the human sacrifices.

On the fifteenth day of being sat in the little cage he had created for her, Imelda sat chewing on some of the dried fruit he had once more managed to bring back with him. Her eyes staring into the floor as she attempted to formulate her thoughts into understandable sentences.

"It's just over two weeks... I can imagine that the Masters have sent another group by now and they'll be well on their way." Imelda finally spoke, fingers lightly tapping against her knee as she reluctantly looked to wherever Alarik had settled himself, "But maybe-- maybe we could create a deal between ourselves, one that'll leave the both of us pleased."
 
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As the days passed, he considered himself as getting more adept at finding ways to steal things from within the village. The biggest trick he found was making sure the things he took wouldn't be noticed missing, or, if they were, it was just a strange, one-off moment. The last thing he wanted was for rumors of invisible thieves to start spreading in town, complicating his setup.

Fortunately, there was still the "livestock thief" in the Silent Forest, which allowed him to run away with the occasional duck, chicken, or lamb. Although he could not cook them as well as the people in the village, at least he was still able to get Imelda meat.

He'd spoken to Imelda every day, spending most of his time with her while he waited for changes in Mineral Hill. Unfortunately, since their first two conversations, none of their chatter had ever brushed more than superficial conversation. They certainly didn't have any particularly deep or meaningful conversations, certainly nothing in comparison to their first game of question and answer, but he didn't mind. He didn't need any particularly meaningful conversations with Imelda, simply talking with her at all was already enjoyable enough.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the Masters were taking their time in getting the next group of Slayers sent to the village. He hadn't even heard rumors of their approach yet. But he was watching Imelda grow more and more frustrated every day. Even though he did his best to take care of her, there were only so many things she could do when she couldn't leave the space he'd built her. Add that to the fact that the Silent Forest truly wasn't suitable for human habitation, and he knew that her stay here was starting to take a real toll on her.

What would he do if this next group of slayers proved as incompetent as the ones that had come before? How long would he keep her here? Unfortunately, despite regularly musing on the matter, he couldn't think of better alternatives. He longed to trust Imelda, but she still hadn't given him an answer to the question he'd asked two weeks ago. And, even if she said she wouldn't report him, he would have to consider the possibility that she was lying.

Of course, if this dragged out too much longer, he might end up having to let her go anyways. He couldn't expect Imelda to be able to live in Nightmare Territory indefinitely.

The sound of Imelda's voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up from staring vacantly at the ground, offering her a smile as he tried to force all the thoughts of his future plans out of his head. However, he realized quite quickly that he wasn't the only one who had been thinking about the future. It looked like such thoughts had been occupying Imelda's mind, too.

"I haven't heard any news from Mineral Hill yet," he said, nodding slightly despite his words of denial. "But if they're planning to send another team punctually, you should be right."

He paused for a second, studying her face. "What are you thinking about?"

He hoped that Imelda would have considered a solution that hadn't come to him yet.
 




Imelda Fletcher

Taking some water on first, she swilled it around her mouth before swallowing it down. It allowed her a few extra seconds to consider what she was about to offer, she acknowledged it wasn't the best but it was better than sitting in this place for another day. Despite her best intentions and attempts to keep 'busy', she knew she would go crazy if she spent another day in this place.

"What if... in return for you letting me out of this place and allowing me to return to Mineral Hill... I don't mention you in my report and I'll even look into the comings and goings of the village?"

She kept her eyes on him, almost nervous about his reaction. It was the best thing she could come up with, perhaps she was offering a lot in return simply for her freedom but by this point, Imelda was desperate just to see other human beings and be able to get back into her normal line of training.

That is... if she decided to continue working as a Slayer.

"We both know I was suspicious of the village in the first place because of the amount of Catalyst they have and when I stumble back in, I can use the excuse of my days deep in this hellish forest as a need to stick around and rest. I can look into things, learn about what they're doing without anyone getting suspicious..." She took a deep breath, looking away and rubbing the back of her neck, "You can even stick close to me... maybe as a cat or a dog or something. But Kalvar's body... that-- that needs to be buried somewhere. If one of the group comes back alive, that's explainable - sheer dumb luck or something. But two of us? They'll wonder why we didn't make it back sooner."

Imelda took a sip of water to stop her rambling, licking her lips afterwards. She watched him, hoping but not expecting a positive response, "So? What do you think?"
 
Listening to Imelda's carefully spoken words, he dropped his eyes slightly, considering. In truth, it wasn't really all that different from the things she'd said when she was first desperately trying to get him to let her go. She'd solve the mystery before leaving. Only this time, she'd added a promise that she wouldn't tell anyone about him.

And he… didn't really know what he thought about it. On the one hand, he had been contemplating the possibility of needing to let her go before his time at Mineral Hill was completed to his satisfaction. On the other hand, that had been some undefined time in the future, not right now. He still had a great deal of hope for this next Slayer party that would be sent here, and then he'd be able to see exactly the performance he wanted, without any sort of loss.

Except perhaps Imelda wouldn't forgive him refusing her deal. Would she see it as a breach of the faint trust they'd built up in their time together, with the foundation of the memories they both had of the past?

Did he prefer risking the loss of his time at MIneral Hill, or having Imelda provide information about him. That was, of course, assuming that she'd even keep her word. What was the value of keeping a promise with a monster?

"I'm sorry," he finally said, softly. "I want to believe your words without question, but…"

Abruptly, he froze. He wanted to believe her words without question. He wanted to trust her, and he wanted her to trust him. And he was never the type to ignore something he wanted, especially when there was an easy way to get it.

"But I have a condition." In that instant, his tone totally changed. Whereas moments before it had been hesitant and filled with implicit denial, now he spoke confidently and comfortably.

"Trust is a two-way road. I don't want to just be nearby, in some dog or cat. Let me ride with you. Then I'll let you go back, right now."

It was a precaution on his part, just as much as it was the chance for both of them to prove their trust. If she decided to act in a way that broke her promise, he could simply stop it, and take her back. It was the perfect assurance to get everything he wanted.

As for the slight imbalance that he'd have a fail safe, if their little trust-building exercise went wrong, while she wouldn't? He chose to simply disregard it. After all, if all he wanted was to possess her, he could have done it long ago. No need to play such a silly little game. And besides, he wasn't going to break his promise, so what difference did it make?

Right. Trust.
 




Imelda Fletcher

Immediately she spluttered with disbelief at his words. Ride with her. As in... possess her?

"No. No fucking way. No." She was quick to deny, shaking her head and even going as far as to push herself even further away from him, scooting backwards from where she sat. "Are you fucking insane? You really think I'm going to let you-- you--" She stammered, unable to formulate the correct way to say what he wanted. It sounded so wrong.

Imelda continued to shake her head, laughing without humour. "You're asking me to let you be inside-- to possess my body like you have with Kalvar. But how can I fucking trust that you're actually going to let me do what I want to do?" She demanded to know.

There was a slight fury bubbling within her at his words. He had said he liked her, so she hadn't expected him to not believe her. Not that Imelda was lying, she was being genuinely serious about the deal she had offered. But of course how was he to know that?

She lowered her gaze, avoiding his as she picked at a strand of loose thread on her trouser leg. Her brow furrowed, eyebrows knitted together and lips pinched together in the beginnings of a scowl as she attempted to think everything through. Of course she understood that if he had wanted to control her, he could have done so from the beginning. But the idea of her body playing host to him while she was walking around made her shiver. There would be nothing she could do to stop him from taking over completely should he want to and that terrified her. One moment she could be walking around, and the next she could be shoved out of the way, screaming voicelessly in the back as he took over.

Or at least that's how she imagined it.

"You talk about trust but this is my body we're talking about. If I don't hold up my side, it's so easy for you to sort it out. If you don't hold up yours then there's nothing I can do." She finally spoke through gritted teeth, rubbing the heels of her palms hard against her knees as she tried to remain calm, "I'm already risking a lot with what I've already offered you. Yet you're so fucking eager to take more." She leaned forward, exhaling harshly as her head rested in her hands.

This was her way out, but how much was it truly going to cost her?
 
"Then refuse," he said, voice flat. Logically, he'd known that there was no reason Imelda's reaction to his request should be particularly positive. Even neutral was probably asking for a lot. That didn't change the fact that her reaction stung, especially as she shuffled away from him, as though suddenly expecting him to turn into a rabid dog that would pounce on her. Moments ago he'd been excited, ready to see all the things he liked come together in perfect harmony. Now he just felt cold.

"You're asking me to trust you, but I see no reason to offer that when you're not willing to offer me the same courtesy."

In that moment, he was glad that he was merely the controller of a body, and not truly human. It was clear from Imelda's vehement reaction that most humans were incapable of keeping their tone and expression steady when they had a strong reaction to something. If it wasn't for his unique position, he wasn't sure he would still be able to keep his voice steady through all this.

"As for your so-called 'great risk', I gain absolutely nothing from it that I wouldn't have already, except something I'd already fully prepared to lose the moment I decided to leave you alive. You say I'm eager to take? But everything you just offered to me is completely worthless."

Finally unwilling to simply sit still any longer, he stood up walking to the far end of Imelda's space, as though putting the physical distance between them might somehow represent exactly how deep of a wedge she had just driven between them.

"You already seem to have forgotten," he scolded further, arms crossed over his chest. "That this was your deal to begin with. I am fine with the way things are. The only reason I considered agreeing to it is because I value your thoughts and wish to respect your requests. I have tried to show you goodwill throughout all of this. Yet it's clear that, despite the fact that I have never done anything to harm you, never shown the slightest inclination that I have malicious intent against you, you see me as nothing more than a hideous, body stealing monster, eager to rob you."

He shook his head, the faint vehemence that had built up in his voice fading as quickly as it had come. "If that had been my goal, Imelda, it would have been over and done with long, long ago. But you obviously have no trust in me, so why would you place any stock in my words?

"I suppose that's all I should have ever expected." He leaned back against the walls, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know what crazy impulse led me to ask you to trust me."
 




Imelda Fletcher

Almost instantly, her incredulous feeling melted into one of guilt. His tone of voice, his reaction, his body language all made Imelda's shoulders hunch forward, pulling her inward and her gaze dropped again.

Over the past few days she found herself feeling more inclined to feel guilt at his upset or disappointment, or the urge to assure him that what he had brought back was plenty enough for her to eat. All things that, on reflection, Imelda wondered what the hell she was playing at. But each time their history came back to haunt her. It was hard to shake off the memories of who he had been to her, what he had helped her become - even if he hadn't meant for her to. It was difficult to continue seeing him as a monster, with the added bonus of him keeping her alive and bringing her the one or two things she had even requested.

But to call her offer worthless. That caused her hurt and annoyance on another level.

"You still murdered my friends." She answered quietly, still unable to meet his gaze. To say she felt like a child being reprimanded was an understatement with the way he had just scolded her. And her reaction, unable to even face his gaze added to that sensation. "They were only doing a job. I was only doing a job. Just the same as you see killing them your job in order to bring chaos, I guess? My offer isn't worthless - maybe you don't quite appreciate just what I could lose here if the Masters find out I was lying to them."

Her eyes eventually raised to look at him, fingers now moving to pick at a scab that had formed over one of the slashes he had caused those two weeks ago. "I don't know what crazy impulse led me to ask you to trust me either. I suppose it was too much to believe you would take me at my word after the history we shared together." She then added, her own tone turning bitter as she repeated his words back to him at the start.

Gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before turning away to peer out at the forest, exhaling heavily as she rubbed the side of her face. "How-- How long do I have to decide before your offer 'expires'?"
 
He let out a long, slow sigh, sliding down the hardened wood until he was seated on the ground. "I do trust you, Im,"he said softly. "If I didn't, there would be no reason for me to even consider your deal. The primary motivation of me asking to ride with you was simply to create reciprocal trust. I trust that you will investigate Mineral Hill, and keep my existence a secret. You trust that I won't control your body." He paused for a second, considering. "Even if you decide to leave Mineral Hill or tell about me."

That hadn't been the original plan, but he supposed that plans were meant to be changed. Risks had to be reciprocated as much as trust, he supposed. If it all went wrong, he could lose his secrecy, all the time he'd put into Mineral Hill, and Imelda in one clean sweep. But, he'd decided to trust her. If he truly believed her, then why was he even thinking about risk?

"I'm not unaware of what lying to the Masters would mean. I know what a tight reign they keep on the Slayers. I'm grateful to you for even considering it. But, just because something is dangerous, doesn't mean it has great inherent value. I value my secrecy, but as I said before, it's something I was already prepared to lose. As far as bargaining chips go, that's a rather poor one. Perhaps it's better not to think about this as a deal at all."

His head shook slightly. This conversation seemed to have gone in a strange direction. Better to get it back on track. "The offer doesn't expire. Would you like me to leave so you can think for a while?"
 
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