Evie dies three days later. Mihr simply shrugs at the news when they tell them and Odaix freezes up wondering if there was something she could have done. Maybe, if she told Evie, she could have saved herself. Then again, Evie killed a man trying to get rid of a tumor, she wouldn’t even be able to experiment on getting rid of the disease running rampant in her system.
They leave the same day, Mihr simply shoves all of his case files and books into a few boxes and writes down some order for them to get moved to the office down in Daicho. Honestly, the thing that takes the longest is when they stop by the hospital to get in contact with a leech.
Mainly because it dealt with a lot of waiting. Odaix just sits in the waiting room with her hands clutched impossibly tight in front of her. Her leg keeps jiggling no matter how many times she tries to force it to be still. Mihr on the other hand is sitting with his horribly straight posture as he flips through one of the newspapers the hospital has on hand.
Odaix peeks over at the newspaper, hoping to glean whatever it is that is keeping Mihr preoccupied.
Mihr just turns the page to something completely boring and Odaix is quick to shrink back to her seat. She tries to swap the incessant movement to her right leg with minimal success. As soon as she stops focusing her left foot starts tapping and her right leg stills. She presses her hands against her leg as if that could stop it and-
“Ms. Iaoth? Mr. Kannon?” It’s an older gentleman that pokes his head out. Graying hair, wrinkles and the odd dark blemishes tainting his skin. He’s holding a clipboard, squinting down at the words before looking up at the practically empty waiting room.
Odaix goes to nudge Mihr, freezing before her hand makes contact. Mihr doesn’t even flinch, sliding out of the chair in one fluid movement as Odaix fidgets next to him. He doesn’t even wait. He never waits. Instead he’s smiling at the doctor and offering pleasantries as Odaix stumbles her way into normalcy.
“-Dr. Andolin. I’m the leech assigned to your case at the moment.” The man offers his hand to Mihr and Odaix’s lungs seize. Mihr pauses for a second before offering a quick shake.
“I have a high tolerance for the disease, so you’ll be working more with Odaix.” Mihr’s hand falls to his side as Dr. Andolin turns to offer his hand to Odaix. There’s a moment of hesitation before Odaix forces a grin and shakes his hand, as if she didn’t just see the man’s life flash before her eyes.
“Ah yes, Ms. Iaoth. Ivory mentioned you’d probably visit at some point this month.” The old man gives a warm smile, dropping his hand to gesture behind him. “If you guys could, please follow me.”
“Shouldn’t you be taking us in one at a time? Patient privacy or something of that sort?” Odaix follows with quick feet as the doctor leads them through the clean hall of the hospital. This time, it is Mihr that follows like a shadow as he simply glides behind them.
“Normally, yes. However, this is a pretty common procedure. It’d be like if we took you guys to separate rooms for a simple vaccine shot.” Dr. Andolin opens one of the doors in the hallway, instantly heading to one of the cabinets in the far corner of the room. “I just need to get a few things first; feel free to make yourselves comfortable.”
Odaix edges to one of the chairs as she watches the doctor grab a few things from the cabinet before he turns and gives them a soft smile. “As I know Mr. Kannon has previous experience regarding this procedure I won’t waste our time with asking. However, Ms. Iaoth, have you ever encountered the procedure?”
Odaix shrinks into the chair, fiddling with one of her fingers as she mumbles, “Not… not particularly? Like, when I was younger it happened once? Kind of?” She stares at the ground as if it would have the answer. Really, when she was infected it was when the supposed cure was a new thing.
A new thing and impossibly gory. She doesn’t remember much from the event itself, her mind a haze of reality and fantasy and this sharp, piercing pain. After that incident her family was very careful to avoid interacting with the white magic nephlims.
And now she’s working with one.
“That’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about and I will walk you through every step. Now,” He gestures at Mihr who still stands awkwardly next to one of the chairs. “please make yourselves comfortable. I will be back in a few minutes.”
Mihr gives a noncommittal hum and refuses to move. The doctor stands awkwardly for a moment, waiting for some kind of movement before stepping outside of the office. Odaix gives a wary glance at Mihr who just hovers over one of the chairs.
“How come you have a high tolerance for the disease?” The question sits out in the open, soft and silent. An orphan child, prepared to be ignored. Mihr actually looks at her though, cocking his head to the side before saying,
“Possibly genetics. No one really understands why. There’s a possibility that I am close to being a hybrid.” A sardonic smirk falls across his face as he lightly adds, “Might be why I have so much magic; the fact that I can use both diseases.”
Odaix freezes, everything flashing through her mind about everything she heard about the hybrids- psychopaths, murderers, sociopaths, dictators, Nicholas- and then there’s Mihr. Quiet, killer Mihr. “Aren’t they- You’d be dead. Right? If you were a hybrid?’
He smiles. This soft angelic smile on his pale porcelain like face. “Are you accepting the fact that hybrids are killed?”
Odaix’s mouth dries within seconds. It’s as if she was left out into the sun for so long that it absorbed every droplet of moisture she has in her body. She drops her head to stare at the ground again, counting the little lines that make it up.
“You won’t make it if you keep thinking that way.” Mihr doesn’t even need to say it. Odaix already knows, and the thing is that she doesn’t want to make it. This isn’t the life she wants. She wants to be able to help people, to bring people to justice but give them a chance to redeem themselves.
She doesn’t want to end up like Mihr.
“Why are you okay with it?” Mihr is probably still smiling. She doesn’t dare to look up so she doesn’t know. There’s a safety in not knowing.
“Because I want to understand.” Odaix jerks her head up to squint at him and her mouth works faster than her mind as she blurts out,
“Understand what?’
“Do you know why they assigned you to apprentice under me?” Mihr reaches out to touch the top of the chair. His weight seems to dance between the tips of his toes to the balls of his feet as he sways back and forth. The sardonic smirk is back and it’s like being dipped in a tub of acid. “It’s because they don’t want to lose their wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
Odaix opens her mouth as the door slides open and Dr. Andolin walks in. “Hello. I figured we could start with Mr. Kannon, unless you would rather go first, Ms. Iaoth?”
There’s a moment of silence, the acid still burning away at Odaix’s skin before she sucks in a painful lungful of air. She tries to speak and her voice is shredded to smithereens the second it escapes in a broken croak, “Ye- Yes. I mean- I. Can I go last?”
Mihr is already pulling up the sleeve to his jumper and baring his wrist to the doctor. Dr. Andolin gives a nod, “Of course. If you want, I can describe the procedure as I work on Mr. Kannon?”
Odaix offers another jerking nod. Dr. Andolin walks around so that Odaix has a clear view before he grabs one of the wipes he pulled out of the cabinet earlier. “So this is to clean the area. It also acts a little like a numbing agent. It’s the same thing we use for vaccines so you should be a bit familiar with it.”
Odaix leans closer, rubbing at one of her wrists as she watches the doctor grab a scalpel. “Now, we need to make a small cut right on the vein. Nothing horribly deep, but we need to be able to have access to the vein. I will be doing the cut vertically rather than horizontal for ease of access.”
Just like that, the blade dips into Mihr’s fragile skin and pulls up barely an inch. Odaix grimaces, jerking away as she clutches at her wrist. She could already feel the blade and-
No.
She doesn’t want anything to do with it. She’d rather have the disease, but that is also wrong. There are times where she’ll wake up from drowning in her own blood but it’s just a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare that could come true. But-
There’s a puddle of blood sitting in stark contrast on Mihr’s skin as Dr. Andolin says, “That’s the hardest bit for the patient. Next I will siphon off the disease from Mr. Kannon’s blood. The entire process usually takes about ten minutes, for Mr. Kannon it will take about two minutes. Afterwards, he can heal himself or we’ll clean the wound and apply a bandage. In about a week the wound will be gone and it will be like it never happened.”
The doctor doesn’t look at her as he talks. Instead, his hand hovers over the cut while his fingers make odd little twitches here and there. Odaix watches, her insides twisting as the acid that Mihr bathed her in started eating at her heart. Her feet lock behind the chair’s legs as her shoulders cave forward.
Her wrist hurts. This little tingling pain and she knows it doesn’t actually hurt. It’s there though, this phantom ache and-
The leech flicks his wrist once and then turns to Odaix, “Ms. Iaoth, if I could have your wrist?”
“Is there another way?” The words escape in one panicked breath. “I’m not- I don’t like pain.” The cure is fine in thought, but in reality she’d rather take her chances with the disease. Or at least, until that fear is greater than the current one. Or maybe, if she just had enough time-
“It’s not that bad Ms. Iaoth. I promise, you won’t feel a thing.” Odaix bites her lip before offering her wrist. At the first touch she flinches back before steeling her nerves and mumbling a quick sorry. “It’s okay, trust me. I’ve done this for the past ten years. I’m an old hat at this.”
Another nod and Odaix clenches her fist for a second before forcing herself to relax and-
“Now, Mr. Kannon, your records show that you are overdue for an appointment.” Dr. Andolin is a lying liar that lies. Odaix sucks in a quick inhale between clenched teeth as the scalpel bites into her flesh. There’s a burst of red on her dark skin and Odaix quickly forces herself to look up.
Mihr has his head cocked, his hand holding a cotton ball to the cut on his wrist. “I won’t be in the area to make any appointments.” His voice has a cold chill to it, the words themselves falling flat and inorganic.
“Where are you two going? We’ll need to transfer the appointments to another hospital while you are away.” The doctor moves around and Odaix stays stubborn in refusing to look down at her wrist. Her bleeding wrist. The wrist the doctor cut open. Oh-
“We’ll be at Dracein in a few weeks.” Mihr lifts the cotton ball from his wrist for a second before pressing it back against the wound. “Though, you could set up an appointment with the hospital in Laqrea. I would like to work with Dr. Enish.”
“Dr. Enish? I don’t believe I heard of that name before. Are you sure you want to work with them over such a… delicate issue?” Odaix squints at Mihr as if that would make him uncover whatever secrets he has. Laqrea is where they were going right after this, and maybe he is just looking after his health but-
Mihr seemed to avoid anything dealing with other people healing him. He’d heal himself, or try and fail and continue to limp around like a broken doll, but he never let anyone else and-
Dr. Enish. That should probably ring a bell. It doesn’t, not at all.
“Oh it doesn’t need to be anything complex. I’ll even work with him over my knee.” Mihr flashes a soft smile, eyes crinkling in the corners before he lifts the cotton ball again. “Where do you store the bandages?”
“Are you not going to heal yourself?” Dr. Andolin looks up and for a second Odaix thinks he’s done but when she starts withdrawing her arm he makes a clicking sound before saying, “Mr. Iaoth, please do not move. 2nd drawer to the right, though they might be further in the back than anything else. Not many people want bandages nowadays when you can just have someone heal it right up.”
The doctor flashes a grin at Odaix, “Fear of scars, you know? Given, healing has just as big of a chance to leave a scar if it isn’t done properly. It takes some training to do properly. Now, how are you feeling? You seem a bit ashen.”
She forces a smile, resolutely not looking down and instead watches as Mihr hobbles over to the cabinet on the other side of the room. “I’m just- I don’t exactly like blood.”
There’s a chuckle as the doctor says, “You’d be surprised by how many people agree with you. I know quite a few people that when it comes time to draw blood they have to look away else they risk the chance of passing out. But,” He gives her arm a tap. “we are all done here. Make sure you visit a leech within 45 days to make sure you don’t get any symptoms and you should be good.”
“I thought it was every twenty or so days?” That’s what Ivory said. Or something like that. Dr. Andolin hums, reaching over to the counter to snag a cotton ball and handing it to Odaix.
“Please hold that. And, you could visit every twenty days. I see no need for it though. You didn’t have that much of a disease build up to require it. Surprising since you are working with Mr. Kannon.” He turns to address Mihr before saying, “Which, I will have them transfer your files and appointments to Dracein and I will see about getting an appointment with Mr. Enish was it? Is there a timeframe where you will be in Laqrea?”
“The 14th should work. Preferably in the afternoon.” Odaix presses the cotton ball to the wound, wincing at the pressure. Mihr walks over to her as he speaks and simply presses a finger to her hand.
Odaix freezes, her entire body turning into one tense line at the unexpected contact. Pale skin over her dark skin. Killing magic, right there, dangling. Oh godlings, she is going to die. She’s going to die and Dr. Andolin is going to die and-
Her skin ties itself together, the cut falling seamlessly in the background until it is like it was never there to begin with. Mihr’s hand drops away as Dr. Andolin says, “The 14th? I don’t imagine you two could make it there in such a short time frame- maybe the 17th would be a better bet?”
“We’re going horseback. And then getting a car when we hit Cantillo.”
“Can the CME afford a car?” Dr. Andolin goes back to the counter and flips through a few of the documents he has on his clipboard. He separates two of them and hands them over to Mihr along with a pen.
“I can.” Mihr signs one of them with a quick flick of the wrist before handing it to Odaix.
“Ms. Iaoth, this is a simple forum saying that a leech took a portion of the disease in your bloodstream today and that this was not an emergency procedure. It is simply to put in your medical folder so we can start recording how long it takes for the disease to affect you.” Dr. Andolin leans over to point at the bottom section of the form.
Odaix stares at it, trying to figure out where she would even start reading the thing. At the top, but it seems to go into definitions and exact notations on how the procedure goes and then later down the page it is broken down in numbers and then letters and-
“Just sign it.” Mihr drops the pen into Odaix’s empty hand.
She signs it and then hands it back to Dr. Andolin.
“I will be right back, so if you could, please wait a moment.” Odaix gave a quick nod as the doctor slid out the door and shut it. As soon as the door clipped shut she opened her mouth and,
“Am I going to die?”
Mihr looks over at her, an eyebrow quirking and then suddenly there’s a bit of a lopsided smile as a huff of air escapes him. “If I killed everyone I touched, we wouldn’t have any doctors.”
Odaix rubs at her wrist, her gaze falling to the dark skin and it’s just- She could feel it. If she is dying anyways, the disease or whatever it is crawling in her veins and-
“Don’t worry, if you are still alive in three days then the godlings have decided you are undeserving of death.”
Her heart lodges itself into her throat, fluttering about like a caged bird. Her breath catches, freezing and falling and-
The door slides open as Dr. Andolin pokes his head into the room. “There is a call for Mr. Kannon from the CME.”
The smile slips from Mihr’s face and his posture straightens out as he gives a single nod. Just like that, the world crumbles beneath Odaix’s feet. Dr. Andolin rushes Odaix out with warm smiles and Odaix stumbles out of the office rubbing at her wrist.
The wrist that was touched by Death.
She wants to scratch at it. To tear it open and undo whatever it is that Mihr did but even she knows that would be an impossible effort. Instead all she has left is blind trust. Trust that Mihr wouldn’t actually kill her. That he was joking when he told she had three days.
Doctors kill people too.
Odaix shuts her eyes and collapses in one of the chairs out in the waiting room and she waits. Her wrist throbs from an invisible wound. She doesn’t know how long she sits there, melting in a chair and rubbing at her possible death sentence when suddenly Mihr’s voice crashes into her,
“We have a house call to make before we go.” Her eyes shoot open and Mihr is already leaving. There’s a pause, muffled confusion before Odaix trails after the smaller boy.
The house call is a block away in a busy neighborhood. Mihr just ignores her when she asks, “What are we here for?” and after asking for the third time Odaix just shuts her mouth and follows obediently. They stop in front of a two story bricked house. There’s wide windows framing a slender brown door.
Mihr doesn’t even hesitate, he marches straight up to the porch with his awkward gait and gives one, two sharp knocks before folding his hands in front of him. Odaix is simply his nervous shadow, eyes darting this way and that.
It’s a scruffy man that opens the door. His eyes are puffy and brimmed with red and there is something off with his expression. “How may I help you?” Even his voice is oddly flat and empty.
“I’m with the CME, we were called about a possible domestic dispute between nephlims?” Mihr is probably smiling, his voice perfectly polite and gentle. The man creaks the door open slightly more.
“Yes. My- My wife. She-“ There’s a pause, the man closes his eyes for a second before visibly forcing himself to relax. “She killed our baby. I told her she had until the CME came to leave.”
“Did she leave?” Mihr’s voice is calm and cool. Not even a single hitch whilst Odaix freezes and stares at the man. She wonders if he knows what he is doing. What the CME would do. If he knows he’s handing over his wife to be killed.
Then again, the wife also killed their child.
Why would someone kill their child?
“No. Not- Not that I know of. I told her to get out of my sight and she went upstairs, I haven’t heard her come back down.” He’s not even looking at them, is gaze refusing to settle on anything and it has some sort of glaze over it.
“Would you mind if we looked for your wife?” Mihr gestures towards the door. The man swallows before nodding and opening the door even wider.
“You guys came faster than I expected.” He leads them further in the house. Odaix trips over the door frame, her entire body cold and shivering. She doesn’t want to find the wife. She doesn’t want to find the dead child. She doesn’t want to see another death.
They stop in the living room, the man awkwardly hovering before Mihr looks at the staircase and, “Odaix, if you could please see if the wife is still in the house. I will keep Mr…?”
“Samuel. Uhm, you can just call me-“ The man stops, glances at the staircase before turning away so that his backfaced the stairs. “Samuel.”
Mihr smiles, soft and kind. “Samuel company. And we were in the neighborhood. The CME got your… message and figured it was important enough to send us right away.”
There’s a huff, the man’s voice cracks as he says, “Calling your wife a murdering psychopathic bitch makes it important huh.”
Odaix rushes us the steps, her heart thrumming in her ears. Mihr says something else but she can’t make out the words and she’s thankful. Ignorance is bliss, and she doesn’t want to hear anything else and-
There’s really only one door closed in the hallway connected to the top of the stairs. One door, with a cute little sign reading Bryan with blue baby birds flying about and it is closed. The only one.
Odaix braces herself, her hand trembling when she reaches for the door knob and she doesn’t want to. She’d rather be anywhere else. She didn’t sign up to be an accomplice in murder or to see dead babies and get their mother’s killed. The mother killed the baby though and she doesn’t know why someone would do that to begin with.
She opens the door.
Inside there is a woman huddled in a corner with a blanket hugged to her chest. She looks up with tearful eyes, her entire face a wretched mess of tears and snot and wrinkles as she sobs. Odaix freezes, licks her lips before opening her mouth and-
Not a single sound escapes. She just stands there staring at the woman that killed her own child. The woman that sits in the nursery bawling her eyes out and-
That’s not what people normally do. Something is terribly wrong and she doesn’t know what.
“I didn’t mean t-to.” The woman’s voice is completely broken. This high pitched sob that escapes with a hiccup disrupting the last word. She brings her legs closer to herself, arms tightening as she folds into herself and Odaix flounders.
She doesn’t know what she is supposed to do. Does she just-
Does she make the lady get up? Does she put her under arrest? Does she get Mihr?
And then the lady shifts and Odaix can see this disfigured blob attached to the woman’s chest. There’s a sickening feeling in Odaix’s stomach. Little pieces coming together and mixing up and oh-
It’s a nephlim couple. Or, a nephlim murder at least and there’s no blood. There’s no blood or a body but there’s a disfigurement and Odaix is well aware what the disease can do. She wishes Mihr was here, at least then she wouldn’t be the one dealing with it. Mihr would just do the cold hearted thing and deal with it and it wouldn’t be because of Odaix.
But he’s downstairs and she’s here by herself. Everything is up to her. She could go downstairs and tell him he found her but then she’d be signing the woman’s death sentence.
“What-“ Odaix chokes on the words and forces herself to swallow the bitter acid that twists up inside of her. “What did you do?”
“I just- He wasn’t there anymore. That’s all. I just-“ There’s this nasty snuffle before the woman continues in a warbling voice, “I missed him. And- And Samuel doesn’t understand. He didn’t- He said-“ Her voice dies and the woman just stares at the crib that was across the room from her.
“What happened?” The words fall out awkwardly, uncomfortable and odd. Odaix forces herself to stay still, to not fidget or move. To not leave the room and find Mihr and hand over the woman so that Odaix wouldn’t have to deal with it.
She’s pretty sure this is a test. Mihr gave her a choice, to kill the mother or to let her live. That’s the only reason why Mihr would have sent her up on her own.
The woman looks back at Odaix, her lip wobbling as her entire face convulses in agony. “I just wanted to hold him.”
It’s all the confirmation Odaix needs for the dots to connect in the worst possible way. “It’s okay.” It isn’t okay but the lie falls from Odaix’s lips anyways. “It’s- It’ll be okay.”
The woman’s gaze drops and her hand goes to cradle the disfigurement on the woman’s chest. The-
Odaix swallows the bile that rises up her throat and repeats the lie, “It’ll be okay.”
“I just- I missed him. He used to be- My little Bryan. My little-“ There’s this wretched gasp and Odaix’s hand trembles because everything is too much. Too much, too much, too much.
She forces a breath, closes her eyes and-
“Do you- Do you have somewhere you could go?” She can’t hand the woman over to Mihr. She can’t.
“I didn’t mean to- It was- It was only for a moment.” The woman isn’t even listening, her shoulders curving even more as she retreated within herself and Odaix simply doesn’t know what to do.
Her husband called the CME. He’d expect- something. If Odaix is to lie and say that the woman isn’t here then the woman couldn’t be here; otherwise they’d know and there would be no point in the lie and-
There’s another sob and Odaix’s stomach does a somersault.
“You need to leave. Can you do that?” Odaix tries again, her eyes still shut as her entire body trembles. She wants to go downstairs. She doesn’t want to face this horror.
It’s one thing to encounter a dead body, it’s another thing for it to be because of accidental magic. An act up on the disease where there is no intent and just the disease killing. That isn’t even homicide.
She wishes she could trust the CME. She wishes she could tell Mihr and for it not to end in some tragedy.
She doesn’t.
The woman doesn’t even reply, too busy babbling apologies to the disfigurement. Odaix doesn’t even think the woman is hearing her anymore. Not after the initial conversation.
Technically, Odaix could try to force her out but-
That’s not going to do anything other than traumatize her even more. Odaix could get Mihr to leave though, and as long as the husband doesn’t go to the nursery for a while, the mother could make an escape and-
Odaix swallows and says, “You need to run away. Go somewhere safe. I- I don’t know how long you’ll have but-“ Her entire body tenses and she opens her eyes to stare at the distraught woman and-
She wasn’t taught about this. How to deal with victims. They just went over criminals and the different ways to find them and a bit of what happens after. Odaix wants to offer a comforting hand but the longer she’s upstairs the more suspicious it’ll be if she reports finding nothing.
“You need to leave, okay?” Odaix bites her lip as she watches the woman. Not even a flinch, nothing to show that she recognized words being said and Odaix wants to help. She wants to.
There’s a disfigured bump on the woman’s chest and she’s pretty sure that’s the babe’s body. She doesn’t want to actual know.
Odaix, in the end, is a chicken. And maybe she always will be, but she can’t bring herself to even come close to the grieving mother just in case it confirms her fears. Instead she closes the door and heads back downstairs. Mihr is standing in the middle of the room, his head cocking to the side when he notices Odaix.
“She isn’t there.” The lie feels heavy on her tongue and her stomach drops. It’s the best she can do, but when Mihr simply blinks at her she knows it isn’t. That she’s missing something.
Odaix should have made sure the lady heard her. Made sure she could leave the house.
“How did she leave?” It’s a trap. She can feel it in her bones and that dropping feeling just gets worse. Her entire body goes numb and she licks her lips as if she could derive the answer from the simple action. She can’t, she knows she can’t.
“The window was open.” She didn’t check to see if the window was open or closed and- Godlings.
Mihr looks back at the man and he offers, “Give me a moment.”
Watching Mihr climb the stairs is like watching the machine attached to Jaquin flat line. She hears the beeping echoing faintly in her ears and-
The mother is probably still curled up around her deceased child and Mihr is just going to walk in there and touch her hand and she’s going to die. Odaix should have tried harder. She should have made sure the woman was up and out of the house. She should have made sure a window was open and the lie was believable or- or-
This is a test and Odaix is fairly certain she just failed it brilliantly. Her stomach turns and she breaks out in a full body shiver. The man, Samuel, is sitting on one of the couches, hands clasped together and staring at the floor.
“He’s going to kill her.” Odaix doesn’t know where her voice came from. She doesn’t even know how she could stomach the thought of what is actually happening one floor above her.
“He said that.” The words are dull, empty. Odaix wonders if there is regret lurking beneath the words, after all he had to have known it was an accident. He had to know and yet he still contacted the CME. “He said I’ll need to call the police once you two leave since you guys don’t carry phones yourselves.”
Odaix’s stare drops to the floor. Mihr knew all along. He knew and he tested her and she’s pretty sure she failed. He was probably hoping she’d either deal with it herself or at least tell him the truth and she lied. She lied in the worst way too, halfhearted without an attempt to right the wrong that was going to happen.
Her fingernails dig into her palm and she stands there and waits. Seconds tick by like minutes which drag into hours and-
The creak of the stairs sounds an awful lot like the screaming of the machine.
“You will need to contact the CME and the police, but it will only be for cleanup and for paperwork purposes.” Mihr doesn’t even sound disturbed. Like he might as well have just walked into a bakery shop rather than return from killing someone.
Odaix should be used to it. The death count just keeps crawling up and up and she hasn’t even been an officer for that long.
Mihr doesn’t say anything as he leaves and Odaix waits for a second, staring at the man who indirectly caused his wife’s death and then she follows. She always follows.
They don’t make it far before she breaks. “She was a possessor wasn’t she?”
Mihr doesn’t even look at her as he hums.
“It was an accident, wasn’t it? Just- It was something I could do? A- a-“ Her voice crumbles into dust and she can’t even bring herself to finish the sentence.
“It’s why you should learn how to control the disease.” It is all he offers and they fall back into the awful silence. Odaix is merely a shadow, gutted and broken as she dogs his footsteps. They are heading towards the stables to get the horses so they could go to Laqrea and kill yet another person.
Someone who may or may not deserve it. Someone who may or may not be trying to do wonderful things or could just suffer from an odd attack that causes the disease to flare up and for horrific things to happen.
“You wouldn’t have wanted her to survive.” It’s sudden, what Mihr says. Odaix can’t help but jerk at the sudden noise and when she looks up at Mihr he isn’t even looking at her. “There is a high chance she’d suffer from suicide ideation and since she was a possessor the CME would be willing to enact tests on her for the prison. It-“
He glances back, a frown in place and his eyes gentle. “It wouldn’t have been kind.” With that, they fall back into silence, but Odaix can’t help the little bit of her that slots back into place at the words.
She rubs at her wrist and she doesn’t think about how she could die in three days. Instead, she thinks of the broken mother curled around her child that the disease tried to drag back into her body and-
She closes her eyes and she trusts Mihr. She shouldn’t, but she does.
