~15~ The Other Owen

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Red woke up. 

Guts was nowhere to be found, but he figured they had left earlier, and didn't question it.

He grabbed some food for himself and Owen and walked towards the ladder, then tripped on a piece of string.

"What the- that wasn't there this morning, was it?" Red picked it up and almost went to follow it when he noticed something. A strand of hair attached to the string, colored a distinct golden-brown.

His heart skipped a beat, and he nearly flew down the ladder. When he got there, Owen was seated on the bead, staring into space, chin in his hand. When he saw Red, however, he shifted his attention and smiled coyly. 

Red cut to the chase. "What's this?" He asked, pulling the strand taught so Owen could see it.

Owen shrugged, still smiling, looking amused. "A hair, why?"

"Neither me nor Guts have hair. And you're the only brown-haired person who lives here."

Owen sighed, but his expression didn’t change. The sigh sounded near content. "Could it not have been from when you were bringing me in?"

"It was attached to a string. You only tied your hair back after it grew, and your hair is down. Where's Guts."

In response, Owen pulled out some string and tied his hair back. He then stood up, slowly and calmly walked to the door, and paused.

"What are you-"

Owen grabbed it and threw himself backwards with all his strength. He then slammed against the door, and pulled again with all his might, repeating the process. Red stood, frozen, feet away from the rattling cell.

When he regained his senses, Red drew a bow. "STOP!" He aimed at Owen’s face, not showing the terror he had been feeling a moment before.

Owen did, and sat back down, eyes gleaming with humor and insanity. "I'm stuck, Red." He laughed ironically, leaning back. "To escape I'd need someone foolish enough to hand me a key on a silver platter. Wardens who ignored small details. A long-term plan.” Owen’s expression dropped to seriousness, and he made direct eye contact with Red for the first time during the conversation. 

“And a motive that would allow me to escape despite my inner demons.”

Red knew now for a fact Owen had delved into insanity further than anyone else. 

More importantly, though, he now knew how much he had underestimated the abilities that Owen possessed. 

“Krow’s key…”

“And your objective refusal to notice or remember it. A small, stupid part of me didn’t want to escape. Wanted you to find the key. My voices were screaming, louder than ever, at you, at me, at Krow, at anyone to put an end to it all. Yet you kept ignoring what was right in front of your face.” 

Red started to speak, but Owen cut him off.

“Actually, no. Some of the voices were deathly curious. Some of them wanted to follow the roots. Some of them wanted to see just how far I would go.”

“What did you do to them.”

“What did they do?”

“What?”

“What did they do.”

“NOTHING!”

“Wrong answer.”  He sighed again, this time more disappointed. “Guts poisoned the feast. They proved what I've known all along about demons. That demons only live to watch the world burn like the hell they came from."

Immediately after saying that, Owen felt panicked. Something shifted. Something changed. His hands started shaking and dread weighed on his chest.

I killed someone.

I killed someone. 

What have I done?

Full body trembling now, Owen felt something snap. He slid off the bed onto the floor, trying to feel the warmth, feel the stone, feel something to stableize himself. 

Feeling choked, like he was about to vomit or cry, still shaking terribly, Owen reached behind the bed and pulled out a javelin. 

Red stepped back. "Wh- put that down  or I-"

Owen pulled his arm back, preparing to throw it.

"I'll shoot!" Red shouted. He didn't want to, but he would. 

Shoot. 

Kill.

Owen threw the javelin. 

Red released the arrow.

Owen saw the arrow bounce off of the Blackstone wall, landing on the bed he was kneeling just in front of. Red had missed. Barely. 

The javelin embedded itself into the wall just outside the cell, feet away from Red. Owen looked up at Red, who was wearing a shocked expression. Red dropped his hands.

“You’re a better marksman than that…” Red whispered in awe.

Still shaking, Owen nodded. 

"I don't trust myself." 

Owen’s brown eyes held firm with Red's, and he stood up. 

"I'm not safe. Your secret isn't safe. Rasbi isn’t safe.”

Red faltered. Owen sighed. “Apo isn’t safe. That spear was used to kill him and failed. Then it was used to kill Guts.”

Red pulled it out of the wall. It was sticky and red. One fail. One sucess. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“As much as I already failed, I promised to protect them. That includes from myself.”

Red nodded, backing away, and took the javelin up the ladder with him, knowing he would have to be the one to break the news to the rest of the clearing. Worse, he would have to break the news to Apo. Not just that Guts was gone, not only that Red had failed at keeping Owen trapped, but that the other Owen was truly still in there. 

Somewhere.

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