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The world is filled with static as Abolish takes another step forward. Dry, autumn leaves crunch under his heel, and his fingers twitch at his sides as the sound grates on his ears. It's too loud, too familiar, too much like before, and the time before, and the time before, and before and before ȃ̷̘̜͂n̴̦̊̽d̶̩͗͛ ̵̜̆̋b̶̧͚̒e̶̛̮̒f̸̦͙̍͠ö̴̬̩́r̴̡͓̽̀ȩ̴̬̍ ̸͔̥͐A̷̯͝N̴̥͔̉͝D̵̢̬͂ ̷̭͍̎́Ḃ̴͓̑Ḛ̵̄F̴̠͗͘Ơ̵͙̓Ṟ̶̠̒Ȩ̴̔ ̸͈͋̅A̵̠͖͒̔Ṅ̶̻̙̈D̷͉͆̄ͅ ̵̯̊B̷̬̔͝Ȇ̵̢͇͝F̶̧̺̌͒Ȏ̵̳͊R̴͓͈̀E̵̦͚͐ ̸͈͋̅Ã̸̻N̷̼̏D̶̳̮̓̕-̶̨̃͛
There were too many to think clearly, too many repeats, too much the same. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, he doesn't know where he is, when he is. What loop was this? The hundredth? No, no that couldn't be right. There had to have been more- Or was it fewer? Fifty? No, no, no, no, no, no-
He's holding an axe. He's in the forest.
Oh. This must be 46. He must be gathering wood. This is the only loop where he is out so late. He turns on his heel Pyro is standing before him, smiling and looking up at the moon through the branches. He looks happy. Happy to be spending time with Abolish. Why were they there? Why was Pyro with him? What were they doing? and readies his axe.
"Abolish?" Pyro's voice is distorted and grainy. Abolish can barely make out the words. He sounds distant, and through the fog in Abolish's mind, he sounds nervous. Scared, even. Scared of Abolish. Maybe he should be.
He should start chopping, or else he'll be out all night.
"Abolish, what are you doing?"
Abolish lifted his axe over his head.
Their eyes widen.
"ABOLIS-"
It embedded itself in the wood Pyro screams as the axe embeds in his chest, dry bark flying out from the tear bright red blood gushies out from the tear. He forced it out, righting his stance as he stumbled, before swinging again again, again, again, aGAIN. Pyro was still. He glanced up with each pause to ensure the topmost branches hadn’t been knocked loose, before swinging again and again AGAIN, AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN. Pyro's body lurches each time the axe is brought down onto his shattered ribcage.
When he was satisfied with the notch when the handle snapped from the pressure, he stepped around to the other side of the tree and pressed his palm against the barely-standing trunk he stepped closer to Pyro with the axe head still buried in his sternum, and hooked his arms under theirs. He looked up once more, before pressing his body weight against it he looked up at the bright red moon, before hauling the dead weight that had once been his friend to the edge. The tree toppled, and landed with a loud crack on the forest floor Pyro fell, and landed with a loud splash in the river.
He should get back to town.
Abolish blinks, and he's kneeling in the dirt at a riverbank. The trees have been pushed back, building the horizon rather than smothering him as the forest had. His coat is submerged in the freezing water, his fingers red from the cold and the scrubbing he must have been doing.
There is blood all over his clothes. Reality comes back to him in small fragments.
He killed Pyro. They are dead.
Oh. Pyro is gone. He has died to Abolish's hand. Abolish will have to live with the knowledge that he had so easily killed someone he knew could grow to love him given chance as he had in countless timelines before.
He should feel disgust, horror-
Anything.
And he does.
Abolish is disgusted, because he feels nothing that he knows he should. No shame, no guilt, no grief. The only truthful thought that he can muster is 'What does it matter? He'll be back again next time'.
It sickens him, how apathetic and desensitised he has become to such a fate. He had met Death in his first, true life; had seen Alaric's crumpled body from where he'd been shoved over the banister, and Reiah's rigor mortis-stiffened limbs where her corpse lay sprawled in a pool of her own blood across the stairs. He had seen vampires turn to dust before his very eyes, seen humans ripped to pieces. Seen corpses hanging from ceilings, whether from rope or chains, put there as trophies by the wicked or as training by his teachers. Abolish Veylocke knows death. He has never been so indifferent to it before.
Abolish is dangerous. Not in the way he was in the past. Not as a formidable adversary on a battlefield, or a soldier in a warzone. No, Abolish is dangerous the way a wild beast on its last leg is dangerous.
He must be losing his mind. How can he be trusted around the others if he cannot tell circumstances apart? If he has no idea when or where he is?
He continues scrubbing.
The sun rises, at some point. Abolish doesn't know how long he has been away from town. He can't feel his hands, the icy water numbing them hours ago. He hears voices, distant and calling out. For him, for Pyro.
There is the crunching of sand, the swishing of fabric, a gasp-
There are hands around Abolish's wrists, pulling his fingers, shaking from cold and stuck in stiff, claw-like curls, out of the water. Their hands are warm, blisters splattered across skin more tan than Abolish's own between scars. He raised his head almost groggily, eyes turning to the glass eye boring into him blankly instead of the one wide with relief and panic both.
"-bolish?" The doctor's words filter into his ears. They're more smoke than substance, floating and drifting but not sticking. Maybe it's because he is tired. Maybe it's because he is crazy. Maybe it's both. "Come on, you're going to be fine. Come on."
Legundo has a habit of repeating himself, Abolish has noticed throughout these loops. It seems self-soothing, like he's trying to convince himself that what he is saying is true. Abolish lets himself be pulled to his feet. His knees buckled almost immediately.
He blinks, and he is in the doctor's arms, halfway back to town. His coat is missing, and he wonders for a moment if it was washed away in the river. He wonders if it will wash up with Pyro's corpse. The thought falls away. There are people walking on either side of him and Legundo.
Sharp teeth, slit pupils, and yet missing the thirst of blood. Pale skin with eyes too wise for the age they claim. The scent of infection beyond this realm, mixed so seamlessly with fear and paranoia it's almost smothered.
The presence of Cleo and Pearl is welcome, and Avid has yet to start shouting so he's alright, too.
"-happened?" The alchemist asks in a low voice.
Abolish feels Legundo shake his head more than he sees it.
"I don't know."
"He's covered in blood."
"I know."
"And-And Pyro is still missing. You don't think-"
Avid yelps as Cleo slaps him upside the head.
"Don't you dare say vampires right now," she hisses, "Abolish is hurt and Pyro is missing. This is not the time."
"I-I wasn't gonna say vampires!" Avid insists. He picks at the linens around his throat. "I was worried, y'know.."
Pearl cocks her head, "D'you think they got attacked? There are supposed to be wolves here, aren't there?"
Cleo shakes her head.
"Wolf attacks are so rare the percentage isn't even worth calculating. They're too wary of humans." They hesitate a moment on the word. It's unnoticeable to the others. Not Abolish. "I doubt they'd attack unless they felt threatened."
Pearl tries to laugh. It comes out tinny and fake. "I don't think Pyro's the intimidating type, and Abolish seems too smart to bother wild animals."
They're quiet for a long moment. Avid is still picking at his wraps.
"Avid?" Legundo's voice vibrates against Abolish's skull.
"...Abolish is covered in blood, but.. can you see any wounds?" Avid asks quietly.
It makes Abolish look down at himself. Pyro's blood is dry and crusted over now. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. Only his hands are free of stains, washed away by the river. Maybe that would feel poetic, if his thoughts would stop dripping away from him like a sieve.
Legundo is quiet. Abolish feels his steps falter. Pearl is quiet, she glances between Cleo and Abolish. Cleo is quiet. Abolish can't see her expression, unruly orange hair covering her face as she tips her head down.
He blinks, and a door is closing. He's sitting on a bed, the frame under the thin layers of wool and feathers hard beneath him. The edges dig into his thighs, uncomfortable but not quite painful. He wishes the wood were cutting through his skin. Maybe then, the world would stop fading around him every time he stops thinking for so much as a minute.
Abolish raises his head, watching Legundo cross the room. He clicks his tongue each time the floorboards creak beneath the older man's feet. He doesn't seem to notice.
"Alright, Abolish," The doctor begins. His voice is gentle, too soft around the edges. It's patronising. He feels like a child. "I need to check you for injuries. Are your hands feeling any better?"
He opens his mouth to reply. No words will come to him. They slip through the cracks in his mind too easily. Everything he wants to say, he has said before. Everything he should say is not true. His teeth click together from the force he puts into closing his mouth. The inside of his cheek is pinned between his molars. He continues to bite down as he shrugs, until the skin tears and copper floods his mouth.
Legundo is patient. He has probably had both better and worse patients than Abolish. Still, he is not like the organisation's medics, with their demands and short orders. He does not demand Abolish remove his shirt so he can inspect his skin. He does not scold him when he flinches back from the disinfectant's coldness.
Even more so, Legundo is not like them, because the medics would never look so scared by the thorough lack of injuries.
(Pyro hadn't fought back, even when he was pinned to the ground. He hadn't even tried to scratch or push Abolish away on instinct. Maybe that meant something, in another life.)
With the exception of the gauze now carefully wrapped around his hands, there are no bandages on his body. There are no wounds to wrap. Legundo had checked over and over, desperate for some sign.
Finally, the silence breaks.
"Abolish. Where did-" His voice is unsteady and low. He cuts himself off, putting his hands on Abolish's shoulders. His expression changes, desperate now, and so does his question. "Where is Pyro?"
Abolish can't force his jaw to move. He stares up at Legundo. Whatever the doctor finds in those eyes is enough for him to pull his hands back like he's been burned. The motion knocked the blanket from Abolish's shoulders. He watched the other man leave in a hurry.
Legundo doesn't bother with pleasantries as he practically runs up to Apo. She, Martyn, Sausage and Owen had returned second to last of the search parties. Now, they're just waiting on Avid, Pearl and Drift. Legundo allows himself to hope, praying to a God he has not spoken to since long before the war.
"Have you found Pyro?" He asks, voice pleading and nearing desperate.
Apo averts her gaze and shakes her head. Legundo's heart falls into his boots.
"No sign."
The others have begun to gather around them. He can't allow himself to fall apart, especially not in front of them all. There's still a chance. Pearl is a remarkable hunter, surely she can find their tracks. Find them.
"What about Abolish?" Shelby asks from her roommate's side. Legundo goes still. "Is he doing okay?"
Scott nods. There's something in his eyes that Legs can't quite place. Something too close to.. entertainment. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, even if Scott has yet to do anything malicious beyond the odd prank on a paranoid Avid.
"From what I've heard, he was covered in rather a lot of blood when you brought him in. And we do not have much medicine out here.." He trails off, clasping his hands behind his back. "I would hate to hear that an unfortunate fate befell him."
It's as though Scott knows. It's as though he wants to hear the foul words. Legundo clenches his fists.
"...Aside from the frostbite in his hands, I found no injuries." He spits out. The words try to catch in his throat. He shoves the lump forming down. "Only old scars."
"But- That makes no sense." Martyn splutters.
Ren puts a hand on the younger man's shoulder, expression grim, and shakes his head.
"Aye.. I hate to say it, but.." He trails off.
Owen is not nearly as hesitant.
"It makes sense, if the blood was Pyro's." He points out bluntly.
There are several gasps from around the group. Legundo is not among them. He'd come to the same conclusion, reluctantly.
"But- Why?!" Shelby blurts. "Weren't they friends? I thought-"
She's interrupted as Avid practically crashes into their little circle, winded and pale.
"We-" He gasps, wheezing. "We found- He's-"
"Where?" Legundo asks.
Avid straightens. He's still clearly catching his breath as he pants, but clears his throat in an effort to sound clearer. Legs wonders if he had run the entire way back to town in his panic.
"The- We found him in the water, around the castle ruins." He manages.
Directly downstream from where Abolish had been found. Cleo's face twists as they, presumably, realise the same.
"Is he?.." Shelby can't quite manage the question. In turn, Avid can't meet her eyes as he nods his head.
"Where are Drift and Pearl?" Cleo asks.
"They're.. on their way. We buried- Well, um. Pearl did most of the work. But Drift got really sick, so they're taking it slow." Avid shudders. "I don't blame her... It wasn't pretty."
Silence settles over them all, thick and heavy. Nobody seems to know what to say. Legundo certainly doesn't.
Drift and Pearl join them a few minutes later. Dirt covers much of Pearl's clothes, and all Legs can be glad for is that there's no sign of blood on her somehow. He's not sure Apo or Shelby would take the sight well. Drift is similarly as pale as Avid is (and Legundo can't help but wonder if Avid had perhaps kept his own nausea out of his retelling of events), but she gives a wobbly smile when asked if she's alright.
"..So what are we going to do?"
It's Martyn who finally breaks the silence. His arms are crossed over his chest, brow furrowed. It looks like an attempt to hide his nerves. The tapping of his foot against the dry grass under heel ruins the illusion, as does the way his eyes flit from different members of their group, to an unseen spot over Leg's shoulder. He's sure, were he to turn around, Martyn's gaze would be locked onto a building more hospital than home. He doesn't.
"What can we do?" Scott asks, arching his eyebrows. "It's not like we can exactly fetch for a police officer."
"But we can't just do nothing!" Avid argues, "I mean- He's clearly unstable!"
"That seems like a strong word.." Shelby tries to protest.
"You didn't see what he did to them!" Avid hisses lowly, as though Abolish might hear.
Pearl scrunches her nose up and shakes her head.
"I'm not one for throwing around terms like that, but I gotta agree here... Calling the wounds Pyro had 'excessive'-" she raised her hands to make air quotations, "-would be an understatement. His entire ribcage was shattered. That's not some freak accident; it was purposeful."
Shelby makes a distressed noise in the back of her throat, covering her mouth with her hand. Scott puts a hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her into his side.
"So the options are Abolish went crazy out of nowhere, or he's been playing us all like a fiddle since we met? It's only been a week or two, sure, but could he really have been tricking us for that long?" Sausage asked with a cock of his head. "And if he just 'went mad'.. how?"
Legundo frowned. He had a point...
"During the walk back to town and my examination, Abolish was.. almost catatonic. He was clearly awake and followed instructions just fine, but his eyes were completely unfocused and he barely reacted to anything said to or around him..." Legs mused.
Cleo huffed, "So, what, you're saying he did go crazy out of nowhere?"
"Not nowhere," Legundo shook his head, "Possibly due to some external factor we're not aware of."
"Like what? Everyone has been eating the same food and drinking from the same water sources." Owen points out, tone skeptical. Ren nods along to his words approvingly.
"Ay, those were the only things I could think of, don't'cha know.. But Mr. Owen is right; if that were the case, even more'a us would've become crazed be' now."
Legundo hums. They're right, of course. They'd all shared the same meals each night around the campfires usually built by Owen. Plus, the lumberjack was the one to gather most of the ingredients for their collective meals. If anyone should know which plants would and would not cause a negative reaction, it would be him.
"Some underlying condition from before he arrived, then?" Scott proposes. "It is possible it is just lunacy."
"Psychosis," Legundo corrects tersely. "And.. maybe."
Scott rolls his eyes at the correction, but continues.
"He has always been rather detached from reality, no? And there's that incessant clicking, or course."
"Clicking?" Drift echoes, voicing Legundo's exact curiosity.
Scott nods, "Yes, clicking. With his tongue, like he's tutting. He does it seemingly randomly, or in tune to people's voices sometimes."
Legundo frowns.
"I haven't heard that.."
"No, no. I've heard it too." Pearl assures. "My hearing is pretty good, but it's still quiet. It's kinda weird. He does it with you and Avid the most, actually."
Legs blinks. He.. hadn't noticed that. Then again, his already mediocre hearing hadn't exactly been aided by the screech of bombs and the rattling of bullets. Pearl has no particular bond to Scott, so there wasn't any reason for her to attest his story were it not true.
"So he's just.. always been like this?" Apo asks. She's frowning, lips curled in distaste as though the answer isn't satisfactory. Legundo is inclined to agree.
"I think that's part of it, but..." Pearl trails off.
"There's gotta be more to the story." Sausage insists. "I mean, we weren't exactly best buddies, yeah, but this is a pretty sudden change!"
Avid scoffs, "You just want a better narrative to copy into your next book."
The author splutters, and the two begin to bicker. Legundo fights the urge to slap both of them, instead settling for pinching the bridge of his nose.
He stumbles as a shoulder barges past him, knocked back several steps. Scott stands where he'd been moments ago, eyes locked onto the clinic and brow furrowed.
"Something is wrong." He announces. Avid and Sausage's bickering falls silent. "I can smell-"
"Blood."
It's Pearl who finishes the sentence. Her voice is faint, and Legs finally realises that she'd been staring behind him for the last several minutes.
Legundo doesn't bother asking how, in the moment, the two of them know. He doesn't hesitate, running to the clinic door. He can hear people behind him, but doesn't wait for them as he barges in.
Brown eyes meet green. They're glassy and glazed over, unblinking. Unseeing.
Abolish is a mess. The sleeves of the shirt Legundo had loaned to him are ripped apart, practically shredded, in his attempts to get to the bare skin underneath. Thick, deep lines ooze dark red out onto the floor on both arms. The scalpel is still embedded in his wrist, fingers lax around the handle.
Legundo knows he is dead, before he even checks for a pulse. He looks anyway, desperate for anything.
Oakhurst loses two lives that day.
(Abolish wakes with a gasp on the road to Oakhurst, as he always does. His arms ache still. He begins walking towards the palisade. He has work to do.)