shiver (FEATURED) | ✓

o26

evanna

It came without a doubt that I had underestimated Bernard's reasoning.

I thought I'd be applauded after my first proper Mission for the Red Hand, but, somewhat surprisingly, I'd been wrong. I sit beside Julian on the sofa with the rusted springs, amusing myself by watching Julian roll their eyes at the director every time he turns his back to us.

But this is no time for laughter.

Heavy boots slam down against the floorboards of the study in controlled yet agitated footsteps, forced in a fit of irritation as Bernard paces the length of the room. "What were you thinking?" He demands, finally coming to a halt before me, looking down with the expression of contained anger twisting his features.

I know he's not expecting an answer, and probably doesn't want one either, but I say something anyways. "I was thinking that she knew too much," I answer stiffly, "which she did, by the way," I add in unnecessarily. "Just in case you were having doubts about that," I mutter.

An exasperated groan fills the room. "You had a syringe filled with an amnesia-inducing serum, Evanna! That was what it was for!" He snaps at me.

"Yes, and tell me, how sure were you, exactly, of how well it would perform when you gave it to me?"

"Quite sure," he answers stiffly. "We tested the drug on the rats that scamper down here, and it worked. So yes, we were quite sure."

"Killing her was the safest way to stop her from remembering anything," I respond with a shrug. "A drug can't guarantee anything, but cyanide poison can."

Bernard's next look is one of complete defeat. "You stuck her with a syringe," he states flatly, as though he can barely believe it.

"I wore gloves, if you're worried about that," I say.

"I'm not worried about fingerprints, you stupid girl!" He snaps. Not a great move, Bernard, not a great move, I think. He should be more aware than anyone of what I can and can't do. I could kill him, if he wanted me to, though. He seemed to be asking for it. "In the past week or so, you've killed more people than Julian would in a normal year," he says angrily. One hand is in his pocket, but the other is currently making violent and hurried gestures to get his point and his emotion across. 

"You killed that guard in front of your facility, you killed another one getting over the wall, you killed one to get into the Square, and now the doctor- it wouldn't surprise me if someone else has died because of you, and now that you're with us, don't you think that leaving a trail of bloated cadavers might lead them somewhere?"

I shrug. "I'm careful. Killing is an art and a necessary 'evil,' as some might put it, but it's somewhat of a hobby for me."

Julian and I watch him storm off into the other room.

▿

"I still don't know what I did wrong," I say, watching Julian tear at a heel of bread with their teeth. "I retrieved the Chrysalis serum, and I don't even get a thank you."

"He's just worried."

I roll my eyes. "Really? I thought he was just kicking up a huff."

Swallowing, Julian puts the half-eatsn piece of bread down on the table and sighs. "I think he's just aggravated that nothing's turned up from the serum," Julian reasons. "Our researchers have been at it for ever since you came back with it, and nothing's turned up except for the fact that the solution conducts electricity, which would indicate a flow of free ions, delocalised electrons or some sort, or metal, which is impossible, because it would be a ridiculous idea to just inject people with metal."

I close my eyes for a minute, mulling it over, calming down, my hand gripping the dry wood of the tabletop, fingernails digging into the material. It smells like dust and ice, all at the same time, but there's no wind down here. Everything so so still, and yet everyone here is preparing... for what, exactly? A war?

A war, yes, and for what? For justice, liberty, and freedom. There is no such thing as true freedom if there is a society.

"Has anyone considered that they might be using a microtracking- or nanotracking- system which inputs some sort of material that uses the blood as a tracking device? It's far more useful than a chip. Chips are easy to get rid of, you know, especially if they're right underneath the skin."

"Fuck."

"Hmm?"

"If it's a microtracker, it's not safe to have it down here!"

"If the tracker is only activated by blood contact, then it should be safe, but fine, we'll go tell Bernard. If we must."

▿

Julian and I are sent up by Bernard to patrol the building that masks the entrance to the subterraneous encampment of the Red Hand. They've decided to get rid of the serum- by placing it far away in an accessible location, but one which will draw no suspicion towards the actual organisation. Bernard almost blew another fuse when Julian broke the news to him.

"I feel like I screwed up," I tell Julian, as we linger around the street corner, pretending to appear like we're talking casually.

"Not your fault. But don't worry, you're still learning," Julian answers, kicking up a bit of snow. "Just wait until you've got everything under control." They grin at me, and I force a smile back.

"You'll become a work of art, Evanna. You'll be our masterpiece."

a/n: hey guys! sorry this chapter is pretty dumpy, I really had no inspiration. Hopefully next week's will be better! Anyways, thank you to everyone who's read up until here, it does mean a lot, and I appreciate every person who took the time to read this!

how to be the bee's knees:

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