Prompt #30 - Abstracted
Characters: Bexy and Mist
It was early. Earlier than it had any right to be Bexy’s standard, but sleep hadn’t come to easily to her the last few suns. The house was nigh silent; if the Keepers and other nocturnally inclined people were awake, they certainly weren’t around.
Solitude. In a house she would protect with her life. The bitter pang of it sits between her teeth, as she lays atop the wooden deck, barely illuminated by the moonlight from the many windows.
She cranes down to the pool of water below, to reveal her face. It was unblemished, unworn by the difficult cycles of her life. Smooth skin and a rounded silhouette contrasted by sharpened features, framed with long, wavy hair. And then her eyes.
These weren’t the ones she was born with. They were... Unnatural. Blue and bright and...
How many people saw these as the last thing before they died?
Her heart leaps, as suddenly a glimmer of green appears in the reflection of one of her eyes.
A stifled panic, as she plunges her hand into the water, which freezes nigh instantly. But the reflection doesn’t move. It smiles unsettlingly up towards her; as she often would when she was not masked and making a kill.
Bexy does not hear the footsteps that make their way upstairs. But she’d have known them instantly.
Her forefingers move to pluck out the green eye from it’s socket...
She doesn’t hear. All she cares for is removing that eye. She takes a lump of ice from one, and moves to the other.
A sigh is given from the Duskwight, who dressed in clothes much more comfortable from her standard fare. Judging by how the Seeker’s ears did not even twich at the call of her name, it was safe to assume that Bexy hadn’t heard her.
Mist knits her brow in worry, and takes a few steps towards her. The cold was palpable in the air, causing her to draw her nightgown around more tightly over her shoulders. She makes it almost within reaching distance, until Bexy’s head turns abruptly over her shoulder.
The way they caught the moonlight and seemed to glow an eerie blue in the light gave Mist pause. But her tone softens to one Bexy had heard only rarely.
“Are you alright?”
The silhouette seems to state back up at Mist, looking very briefly inhuman... Before that sigh, and that same old response she’d been getting for the last few moons came back.
She turns away. To look back through the window, towards the stars that flickered between the clouds far off in the distance.
She’s no longer content to take it as an answer.
“No, you’re bloody not.” A few steps, and Mist finds herself sat beside her on the wooden decking. It’s still cold, and she has to fight herself from shivering. “It’s three in the morning, Bexy. And you’re sat alone in the company house, in the dark. Don’t birdshite me.”
She only gives silence in response, but her swivelled ears indicate she is listening, after all.
“...You know, it’s normal to be... Not yourself, Bexy. Especially after something like that.”
No response, still.
She was never this quiet, Mist thought. Ordinarily, she’d not have pried. But this was... Different. Concerning.
“...Is it about Neoma? I read your report, you know. After you left it with Naino. If it’s any comfort... There was a body reported. Wounded, recently healed. Close to the vicinity of where you fought... Either beastmen got him, or the wildlife did.”
To that, Bexy gives a small nod. But her gaze still sticks to the window.
“Please, talk to me.”
For a long, long moment. It hangs in the air, before Bexy finally fills her lungs to respond.
“I want revenge, Mist. I was so sure it was him. So sure that was the sun i’d have my redemption.”
“...And it wasn’t. And we don’t know where he is. He could have left.”
Another nod, from Bexy’s part.
“I am almost certain he has left. To where, i do not know. But i wager no trace of him is left in Eorzea, now. His people wouldn’t have known. Questioning them would have gotten me nowhere. He’d never have told them; he knows i’m not above doing what is necessary to get them to talk.”
Mist always frowned at the way Bexy spoke of such bleak things with indifference. She shuffles uncomfortably beside her, but doesn’t leave.
“...I will pluck his eyes from his head, Mist. Pick his throat from my teeth. For everything... Everything that he... Did, to me.”
Bexy’s voice quavers at the memory, finally meeting Mist’s gaze with terror and fury both.
“...Everything that he did to us. To my friends, Mist. To my family... I can’t let him live. I can’t let him just run away after everything he’s done.”
Another quiet, then. Mist is the one to break it this time.
“...I understand. We’ll find him. Maybe not yet, and maybe no time soon. But we will. But before all of that, you need to rest. Get to grips with everything again, Bexy.”
“Go on that sodding Honeymoon, or something. We’ll be here when you’re back, open arms and all that. I’ll even endure you telling me about it all.”
Silence, again. But a faint smile on Bexy’s features are caught.
“...Thank you, Mist.”
It was enough. Enough for now; no matter what other dark thoughts paraded through her mind.
She’d have her revenge, eventually.
It was always a dish better served cold.