Requiem for a Mouse (8 page)

VLAD

Vlad relished the dead quiet of the night, its stillness disturbed only by the grass snapping underneath his feet. He held his jagged blade in one hand. Though it was only a knife, he walked as if it was an anchor. His arm dangled behind him and dragged down his entire body in a lopsided gait.

The moon stood high in the cloudless sky. It illuminated the flat landscape, casting shadows from the tents scattered around the riverbank. Vlad reached his hands up as if he could grasp its luminescence.

How would I make you scream?

“You know this is all your fault,” he said, shifting his gaze to the stars, talking to the heavens above him. “You said that you loved us all. You promised us a just world. How do you lie so well?”

And if you can be cruel, why can’t I?

Vlad walked through rows of tents with soft steps. Only now did he notice his drool, falling in thick globs from his mouth. He wiped it up, surprised to feel his lips curved into an uneven smile.

“Don’t worry,” he told nobody. “Because however cruel you are, I promise you, I can be crueler.” Vlad approached Jericho’s tent and let out a squeal.

He peeled back the tent to find Jericho asleep. Vlad moaned and dragged his fingers across his face. “I’m glad you raped her,” he whispered to Jericho, laughing through his words. “Because I loved her, and you broke her so completely. But you see, without a victim, there’s just no justice. Without her pain, this would all be so hollow.”

He crawled into the tent, his knife raised. It was strange seeing Jericho so peaceful, Vlad had watched him for weeks and never once was Jericho this calm. Well, at least he wouldn’t die that way.

Vlad thrust his blade into Jericho’s leg. The knife cut to the bone. Jericho jerked up, but Vlad held him down, his hand latched onto Jericho’s mouth. He shoved his blade deeper into Jericho’s leg, twisting and turning it to produce the squelching noise he so loved.

Hawks aren’t the only ones who scar.

Vlad maneuvered his knife, etching his art into Jericho’s femur. Just seeing Jericho’s quivering eyes would’ve been good enough, but now he felt Jericho’s spit between his fingers. He felt the vibrations against his palm of the screams that would never escape.

If Jericho could scream— Oh wait…
Vlad guffawed, sending spit raining down on his victim. “You can scream,” he laughed.

Vlad wiggled the knife out from Jericho’s leg and stabbed it into his gut. This time, no bone stopped the knife. Only now, did the metallic smell of blood fill the air, its fragrance accentuated with a hint of sourness. It was intoxicating.

His nails dug into Jericho’s cheeks. However Vlad tried, he couldn’t stop his laughter. It felt like he was under some spell, some wonderfully powerful spell.

“Scream! Scream for me!” Vlad released Jericho’s mouth to unleash the screams he had been holding in.

Vlad dug his knife further into Jericho before scooping it out, flinging blood onto the tent walls. With another lunge, Vlad returned the knife into Jericho’s gut, stabbing him over and over again. With each stab, he flung more blood as if drawing some horrific mural.

“Can you hear his screams, God?” Vlad howled, feverishly painting the tent walls.

Jericho convulsed with every stroke. His screams died into a gurgle and then nothing.

“Can you hear it even when you’re so high up on your fucking throne?”

Sweat dripped down Vlad’s face. His shoulders rose and fell with his panting breath. Only now did he realize that Jericho had died. Vlad shook his head in disappointment. Holding Jericho’s face steady with his nails, he slammed the knife into Jericho’s eye, the finishing touch on his masterpiece. It always astounded Vlad how fast a person could become an object.

And then there was silence. The night remained completely unchanged. The river still flowed, the moon still shone; nothing at all had changed. Vlad looked down at his work. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. His skin tingled. Jericho’s scent tickled his nose.

I had been too loud.

“Jericho?” The high-pitched voice came directly behind him.

Vlad turned and peeked through the sliver of light streaming through the tent flap. It was a small girl, her figure hidden by shadows. There was a crowd behind her. They stood away from the tent as if it housed some sort of monster. Vlad plucked his blade out of Jericho’s eye.

“Who’s in there?” The girl was on the verge of sobbing, her voice like the squeak of a mouse. “Please, brother, say something.”

I need a mask.
Vlad didn’t bother looking around, he already knew where his mask was. He plunged his face into Jericho’s gut, engulfing himself in the blood. He rubbed it all over him, filling his nose and ears with its warmth. Once again, as if commanded by spell, he started laughing. Bubbles of blood spluttered from his mouth.

With a swift turn, Vlad was out the tent. Strings of blood oozed off his lips, dripping down his chin like slobber. The crowd huddled around each other. They were sheep eyeing a wolf.

The girl gasped, her eyes darting between Vlad’s face and his knife. “Who are—”

Vlad opened his mouth to respond, instead, a shrill laugh escaped him. He spluttered blood over the girl. It pained him to laugh so hard. He clutched his stomach, heaving the laughter out of him. By the time he had managed to calm himself down, the crowd had thinned. If he had awoken anyone else, they were smart enough to stay inside. All that remained was the stragglers inching away from him and the little girl.

She opened her mouth to talk, but no words came out.

Vlad smiled, never having seen anyone actually frozen with fear before. It was rather cute. He walked up to her and pinched her chin, peering into her doe-eyed stare.

“Please don’t kill me,” the girl cried. Tears crawled down her cheeks.

“Do you know who I am?” Vlad brushed her cheek with his knuckles, painting it with her brother’s blood.

Her words came out in short stutters. “The Slasher.”

Vlad took a deep breath. “That’s right,” he whispered into her ear. He gave her a bloody kiss on her forehead and walked away. The remnants of the crowd parted for him, none dared make eye contact.

Behind him, the girl wailed into the night. They started out as short staccato notes that crescendoed into a beautiful finale, a perfect conclusion to his symphony of screams. He placed a hand over his thumping heart with a smile so wide it hurt.

Vlad looked toward the heavens, already wanting more. “If you could scream, how would I make you scream, God?”

LISSANDRA

“Mom!”

Lissandra awoke in the usual manner.

“Mom! I’m hungry!”

Normally this wouldn’t have bothered her, but her body felt like dead weight. The drop had been harder than she anticipated and now she was paying the price. If it wasn’t for that red-eyed girl, she might not have even made it back.

“Quiet,” she muttered at her little brother and snuggled deeper into her pillow.

“Mom!” her little brother wailed.

With a sigh, Lissandra pushed herself up. Her joints audibly popped into place. She leaned over to the left and gave her little brother a small kiss. “Okay Leon, I’ll make you some food.” She elbowed her older brother on the right, “Gunther, help me make breakfast.”

Gunther stopped snoring and rolled over. With his back turned to her he asked, “With what food?”

Before she could respond, he was asleep again, his snore deeper than before.

“Damn it.” Lissandra took care to whisper. Leon was too quick to pick up on new words. She crawled out of bed with a groan.

“Liss, where’s mom?” Leon asked.

“Leon, shh, I’ll make you something. Just go back to bed and when you wake up, I’ll have your favorite soup all ready for you.” Lissandra’s voice was soft and high as if talking to a baby.

Leon frowned, dissatisfied with her answer. “But where’s Mom? Why isn’t she here?”

That’s a good question,
Lissandra wanted to say, but one look at Leon’s wet eyes stopped her. He was too young for the truth. Lissandra plastered a smile onto her face. She was a poor replacement for their mother.

“Mom’s a little sick right now,” she said. “But don’t worry, she’ll get better real soon. Until then, just let your big sis take care of you. Now back to bed with you.”

Leon, finally satisfied, retreated under the rough covers of their bed. “Okay, Liss.”

Lissandra smiled as she watched him fall back asleep. When his gentle breathing became slow and deep, she left into the living room. On the sofa was her mother with bottles of alcohol spilled beside her. The entire room reeked of its smell.

“Mom, time to go to your bed.” Lissandra nudged her.

Her mother shifted slightly as she burrowed deeper into the cushions. “Charles, is that you?”

Lissandra sighed. “No mom. Look, let’s get you to bed.”

Her mother drunkenly waved her hand, trying to shoo Lissandra away. “Let me sleep a little more. I was just with daddy.”

“Mom, Leon’s going to wake up pretty soon. You don’t want him to see you like this, do you?”

“Liss, don’t bother me,” her mom said in a lazy voice. “Just go away like a good girl.”

Lissandra sighed and started collecting the empty bottles strewn around her mother. Some were still heavy with alcohol, but she threw them away all the same.

She opened up their cupboard to find nothing but dust and cobwebs. “Mom, did you go get groceries like I asked?”

Or did you just buy more booze.

Her mother had always liked alcohol, but never like this. Ever since her father had died fighting a fire for The Dragon, her mother had developed an obsession. It had quickly drained them of all their savings. That’s when Lissandra decided to become a Mouse.

Lissandra peeked up to make sure her mother was passed out. She reached her hand into the back of the cupboard where she had smashed a small hole. She felt around the crevice to retrieve some neatly folded dollar bills. Carefully counting the bills with her fingers, she snatched a few dollars before closing the cupboard.

“Alright Mom, I’m going to buy some food. Make sure you clean yourself up.”

“For God’s sake, Lissandra, shut up!”

For a while, Lissandra couldn’t move. Her mouth hung open as she stared stupidly at her sleeping mother. At last, she took a step toward the door and left. “Sorry, mom.” She muttered.

The dry heat of the morning sun was a welcome change from the damp warmth of her house. Only the shop owners were out, busy setting up the rickety tables and chairs they called a shop.

Lissandra had bought just enough money to buy some breakfast for Leon. The rest of them would have to wait until lunch. But before she could buy food, she had to go see Jynx. If they wanted to eat next week as well, someone had to make money.

When Lissandra arrived, Jynx’s door was already half open. She knocked on the door with three sharp raps. “Hi.”

“Oh, it’s you again.” Jynx replied. “You’re quite the early bird aren’t you?” She carefully adjusted the masks hanging on her wall.

“I could say the same for you.”

“I have to get the store ready. I’m technically not even open.”

Watching her was strangely calming. She would tilt the mask ever so slightly in one direction before deciding to tilt it back. Nothing would change, but she ended happier than when she started. Lissandra snapped out of her empty stare. “Oh, I can come back if—”

“No, it’s alright. How’d the drop go?”

Lissandra looked down at her bandaged knees. “Good enough.”

“I have to say, I was surprised you even finished. Most Mice do drops in teams of four. I guess more money for you then.” Jynx went around the store to adjust the rest of her items.

“Don’t call me a Mouse.”

Jynx let out a short laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with taking pride in your work. After all, Mice save lives.”

“I’m not trying to save the world or anything, I just need money.”

Jynx gave her a short nod and shrugged. “Anyways, what can I do for you?”

“I want to do another drop.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jynx took two quick steps and closed the door. At last, she gave Lissandra her undivided attention. “I told you already, that was a onetime deal.”

“I need the money.”

Jynx sighed. “Everyone needs the money. You’re not special, so go sign up at Project Persist like the rest of the Mice.”

“I would, but it could be weeks before I get signed up. And I don’t feel like asking my little brother if he’s willing to wait a few weeks before being hungry.”

“Look, I gave you your drop because your father worked for mine and it was unfortunate what happened. But that was a one-time favor, that’s it.”

“But if you did it once, you could do it again, right?”

“I’m sorry that you’re in a tight spot, but I don’t owe you anything.”

Lissandra’s brow furrowed. She looked back at the locked door, a frown stretched across her face. “Okay Jynx,” she said with her head down. She had expected as much. The world wasn’t going to let her catch a break twice in a row.

No.

She wasn’t here to make friends. And what would her excuses matter to Leon? “Jynx, you obviously don’t want people to know that you can assign drops, so here’s the new deal, I’ll keep your little secret, but in return, give me a drop.”

Both Jynx’s eyebrows rose in unison.

“Sorry, but food isn’t free.” Lissandra finished. “Call me whatever you want, if I can get food on the table back home, it’ll have been worth it.”

Jynx stared in silence for a few seconds before responding. “Lissandra, I think that you’re a smart girl and I like you, so I want to remind you who you’re talking to. I know I don’t really look it, but I’m still the daughter of The Dragon. So think very carefully when I ask you: are you threatening me?”

Lissandra took a deep breath. “Absolutely.”