"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Bellowed the Conductor, hands splayed and arms raised towards the heavens as he introduced the show to the masquerade-masked audience. "For YEARS man has dreamt of finding the answer to a single question: How do I unreservedly kill BILLIONS of people in the blink of an eye?"
Vanya shifted in place behind the big heavy curtain, her hand clenching and unclenching around the neck of her violin as her nerves took hold. Suddenly her tie felt too tight as it seemed to choke at her neck and the ivory coattails which brushed at the back of her knees in a way that was annoyingly irritating in a way that wasn't before. In an effort to shake off these irritations, she let her gaze rove around the stage. At her back sat the Orchestra Verdammten each garbed in their own black masquerade masks and silky cloths that clung to every curve and crook.
To her left stood Harold, mangled legs and smartly dressed in a suit that didn't fit. It was the tweed one that he'd burrowed from his father's wardrobe when they'd gone to that celebratory charity event; the one about crafting toys for shelters or something, or the other. To her right stood Theodore, fiddling with the buttons on his school blazer. He too, was smartly dressed, but instead of an ill-fitting suit, it was his school uniform that had been neatly pressed and shaved of any lingering cat hairs.
"…First there was the Fennler Manual-Feed Machine Gun. Followed by the Gas Chamber and eventually, my personal favourite, the Atomic Bomb. Mere TRIFLES—FAILURES" The Conductor continued on theatrically, "But tonight, my friends, WE MAKE THAT DREAM, A REALITY! For allow me to introduce you to the world's GREATEST instrument of extermination! A WONDER of modern science! And the most ADORABLE little killing machine that you have EVER laid your eyes upon! Orchestra Verdammten, it is my pleasure to introduce to you La Viole Blanche! Or, if you prefer…"
The curtain creaked as it rose steadily towards the ceiling. Everyone who was gathered on stage quickly shuffled into their places, ready for the show to begin. Vanya swallowed her fears as she moved to stand in the centre of the stage where the spotlight would land. Squaring her shoulders, she stood tall with a gentle smile on her lips, ready to receive the captive audience just as she had always done.
"…THE WHITE VIOLIN!"
Thunderous applause roared through the little theatre as Vanya tilted her chin up defiantly—smugly—and bowed slightly to the audience in greeting. Tonight, they would bow beneath her might, they would sway with her concertos and cry with her ballads. Tonight, they were hers and hers alone to do with as she pleased.
"Tonight SHE shall be our atomic bomb! Accompanied by The Trigger—" The Conductor waved a gloved hand over to Harold who stood with his chest puffed up with pride and lips pulled into a self-satisfying smirk that threatened to overtake his face. "—and The Ignition" He then gestured to Theodore who stood with his back straight and hands clasped gently in front of him; the picture of perfect choirboy.
"Now" The Conductor turned his back on the audience, turning to face Vanya with a wicked grin that seemed to leer at her through that skull-painted mask. "Do what you were BORN to do!"
Gentle fingers lifted the violin and tucked it beneath her chin, nestled there between her shoulder and her chin as she lifted her bow into the air, calling for silence. Like the calm before the storm, all was still, all was quiet and all held their breath in anticipation as her bow lowered towards her violin. What flowed from her fingers was a tune so haunting, so beautiful that Vanya felt like she was the illustrious sea commanding the sirens to sing. And those sirens in question were the two who stood on either side of her.
As Vanya plucked at the strings of her violin and the orchestra swelled with emotion, Harold and Theodore began to sing. The orchestra began to quietly sing, breaking through the silence as the winds sounded took the lead. Underlaying the soloists and the first chair, the winds sung of a gentle lullaby that wished to pull you off into sleep, despite the rather dismal lyrics coming out of the two singers.
"Marcest et marcest (Wither and decay)
Fa'um hu feene (End this destiny)
Fera has terra catena (Break these earthly chains)
Et libérer l'sprit (And set the spirit free)
L'esprit libré (Set the spirit free)"
To the left was Harold who—despite his mangled leg—stood tall, might and proud as he belted out the lyrics in a hoarse Queens accent. The English words sounded both harsh and pleasing to the ear; a stark contrast to the Loric lyrics coming out of Theodore who stood to her right. An amused smile pulled at Vanya's lips as she watched from the corner of her eyes as he gestured theatrically with his hands as he sang.
"Apecca quo lasum est (Take what has been hurt)
Mescor'dium no de'is (Grant them no mercy)
Flector et fera lora (Bend and break the reins)
Et libérer l'sprit (And set the spirit free)
L'esprit libré (Set the spirit free)"
The Orchestra Verdammten swelled at her back as Vanya stepped forth, closing her eyes as she lost herself in the melody of the ballad. The percussion section soon joined in, picking up the pace and turning the rhythm into something a little more foreboding as the strings turned almost mournful with that brass underlay.
"Vita opus mortem viva (Life needs death to live)
Mortem voca la vita (Death calls to life)
Concorda po'tena (Power's harmony)
S'léra duo unáy (So let these two unite)
Léra duo unáy (Let two unite)"
Swaying to and fro to the beat of the song, Vanya—no, the White Violin—smiled as her bow fervently sawed at the strings. It filled her up—the power, the song—and flittered through every crevice in her body before she deigned to share it with the world. THIS was power, THIS was EXTRAORDINARY power, THIS was who she was. Neither woman nor violin, but something altogether entirely new, lost in the melody of her song.
"Mortem nessa est vita corres (Death needs life to grow)
Vita cantar la mortem (Life sings to death)
Concorda libéra (Balance harmony)
S'léra duo unáy (So let these two unite)
Léra duo unáy (Let two unite)"
Just as Vanya's pace picked up, so too did the orchestra's vigour. The percussions revved up, bellowing out their might. The strings sung with vigour as the winds wailed as the brass trumpeted. In turn, both of the singers' voices swelled with the music. Chests puffed up, shoulders squared and mouths opened wide as the song was belted out for all to hear.
"Luna vestra supra (Moon high above)
Évolo tu vous (Evolving as you go)
Razé quo infer (Raze what lies beneath)
Et laza les t'brea grander (And let your darkness grow)
Laza grander les t'brea (Let darkness grow)"
Although Vanya had yet to open her eyes, that didn't mean she couldn't feel the power from the song as she absorbed it from everything—and everyone—around her. From the soothing Loric words coming out of her son's mouth to the harsh sounds of Harold's English sounding in her ears and the pounding of her own heart that sounded in time with the drums. All of these sounds converged on her, on the White Violin, as she absorbed them and amplified them outwards. Waves upon waves of kinetic sound and lumen ripped themselves free from her body and although they did not hurt her, she could not say the same for the theatre. Vanya knew (deep down) just how devastating her powers could be and it was with an almost satisfying smirk as her power ripped through the once beautiful theatre for all it was worth, breaking it down to nothing once more.
"Stingó ardo mundi (Extinguish the world's glow)
Fer consumé terra (Consume the earth's brow)
Cader les calla (Fall from the sky)
Et laza les t'brea grander (And let your darkness grow)
Laza grander les t'brea (Let darkness grow)"
There was a beat of silence as the song trailed off to an end, leaving a moment of silence for it all to sink in and then the thunderous applause exploded across the theatre. Vanya revelled in the appreciative sound, practically basking in it as she finally opened her eyes and when she did, she found herself not surrounded by music & instruments of the orchestra, only the wickedly grinning Conductor who had doused the room in darkness.
"What…what's going on?" Vanya asked, brows furrowed in confusion (Mostly, as to where everyone had gone). But when the Conductor opened his mouth to reply, it was not his voice that came out.
"…Vanya?" Came the familiar feminine voice. It sounded like they were crying. "Vanya? Are you there? Vanya…?"
Between this blink and the next, the room around them had change. Instead of standing in the bleached white room of the Icarus Theatre, they were now back in the living room of the Umbrella Academy; only something was different. She thought it might have been the fact that all of the furniture had disappeared from the room, or that the room was so dimly-lit that the forte-shaped sun patches danced across the tiled floor with ease. It could have been the endless loops of Bach's 'PARTITA NO. 2 IN D MINOR' echoing around her or the grinning skull-faced man who stood across from her, illuminated in the dark by the paint on his face.
"Vanya…! I'm so sorry! I—I found out what you didn't want to tell me…I—I found out why you didn't want to tell me about Leonard Peabody. Oh, Vanny! I'm so sorry! I—I found out that his real name is Harold Jenkins, that Leonard Peabody doesn't exist—he never had—because Harold made him up. Only Harold Jenkins. He was in prison for twelve years for murdering his father; so I can see why you didn't say anything, not to us, not to anyone…"
"Alli…son?" Vanya puzzled as she tried to figure out WHY her big sister's voice was coming out of the Conductor's mouth.
"Vanya?" Allison perked up, hopefully as the Conductor smiled.
"I don't understand" Vanya puzzled, "What—what are YOU doing here?"
"I—I came to look for you" Allison replied wetly. It was strange hearing her sister's voice come out of this wicked man.
"Why…?"
"Because" Allison huffed, crossing their arms. "You're my sister"
"That's never mattered before" Vanya's brows furrowed as irritation leaked into her tone.
"It matters! Of course it matters!"
"Since when?"
"Since always!" The Conductor threw his hands up in exasperation before they moved forward to grab a hold of her sister's hand.
"Didn't seem like it"
"…I—I'm so sorry, Vanny! I'll tell you everything, I promise!" The Conductor pleaded as they tried to pull Vanya towards the exit. "But we need to go! Now!"
"Now?" Vanya stuck her heels in, forcing the skull-faced, sister-sounding creature to stop. She couldn't leave now, there was so much to do: at the top of that list was preparing Theodore's thirteen birthday. "But we're about to have a birthday party! Teddy's gonna be a big boy now"
"I—I know that it doesn't make any sense & I know it sounds crazy, but we were in his house and he has all these pictures of everyone—including you and Theodore!"
"That's—that's what a Daddy does, Ali" Vanya smiled sardonically, "He keeps photos of his kids"
"Our eyes were gouged out!"
"…What?" Vanya balked. Father's weren't supposed to do THAT to family photos; ex-partners, sure, but not to the ones with their kids in them. That's what PSYCHOPATHS did.
"I promise that I will tell you everything in the car, but it's not safe here!" Allison pleaded as the Conductor tried again to pull Vanya over towards the door.
Vanya was less resistant this time, but she still stopped them from fully taking her out of the house when they stopped in the foyer. "No! Stop!" Vanya protested as she tried to pull her wrist out of the tight grip.
"I—I know that you love—loved—him" Allison tried, going for the throat. "But can't you see what he's doing to you? To Theo?"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Vanya practically snarled.
"Look, um, I can't imagine how—how hard it is for you to hear this or how you must be feeling right now" They prefaced sheepishly, "But know that I—I love you and that I—I just—I wanna be there for you, as—as your sister"
"This just doesn't make ANY sense! You're not making ANY sense! I—I don't know what's going on! I don't know what to do!" Vanya shamelessly stomped her feet in frustration. "I don't understand…What's HAPPENING to me?"
"…Do you remember when we were four?" Allison murmured softly as if doing so would make telling this confession any easier, "Dad told us that you were sick, that you had to be isolated from the rest of the family. We were so young and none of us knew to question it. But then Dad asked me to do something that I never understood…until now"
"YOU…Rumoured me" Vanya amended.
"…Dad made me an accomplice" Allison defended hotly. "I—I just didn't realise it at the time"
"You didn't realise that…he was KILLING me?" Vanya sneered, her tone full of venom.
"No, no! I swear I didn't! Not until now! Not until I saw what happened!" Allison protested, growing emotional as the room around them began to rumble.
"WHAT happened? What happened was YOU—you ruined my life! YOU made me think I was ordinary!" Vanya sneered as she started to rant. "And it was HAROLD who showed me how special I truly am—how special WE are. Which also explains why you never wanted me around, now that I think about it"
"What? No!"
"You—you couldn't RISK me THREATENING your place in the house, could you, Allison? You couldn't have me THREATENING your DOMINANCE!"
"THAT'S NOT TRUE!"
"YOU couldn't handle the face that Dad might find ME special!"
"You are special, Vanny!"
"Don't you DARE call me that!"
"And now we have a chance to start over!"
"YOU DESTROYED MY LIFE!"
"Oh, please Vanya! Now that everything is out in the open, we can move on! We can be a family again!"
"A FAMILY? WE were NEVER a REAL family. I was never good enough for that, REMEMBER? I was too ordinary—too DANGEROUS"
"VANYA…!" Allison scowled.
"NO!" Vanya roared, "Look me in the eye right now and tell me you're NOT threatened! Look at me and tell me that you're not SCARED of me!"
"…Please, I don't wanna argue with you!" Allison pleaded, looking anywhere but Vanya.
"Then GO!" Vanya demanded.
"I'm only trying to help you, sis!"
"I don't WANT your help! I don't NEED your help!" They both knew that that was a lie.
"Vanny, please! I love you—!"
"—STOP SAYING THAT!" Vanya roared as she paled significantly, turning almost paper white as her eyes glowed a brilliant cerulean blue and she turned into the White Violin for which she was named for.
"Are…are you okay?" Allison worried, taking in Vanya's new appearance with wariness.
"I SAID GO!" Vanya screamed at her sister, her face full of rage. The lights above their heads burst, the glass shattered & rained around them as the pipes burst, showering the room in (sewer) water.
"Please don't make me do this!" Allison pleaded, tears gathering in her eyes as she opened her mouth one last time. "I Heard a Rumour—"
"—NO!"
Before Allison-slash-the-Conductor could finish their sentence however, Vanya EXPLODED. With a slash of her hand, a wave of lumen—bright and unrefined—ripped itself free from her body & launched itself across the foyer at Allison. Accompanied by the wailing of Bach's violin and the pounding of Number Seven's furious heart; Number Three never stood a chance.
SHHHRRRRIPPP!
A look of utter shock plastered itself across the face of both sisters; one for what she had just done and the other for what had become of it as blood ran from the slash now sliced cleanly across Allison's jugular. Allison choked on her own snatched breath as she was blasted from her feet and blood gushed out of the new hole in her throat. The world seemed to still as she flew, flying across the foyer like a kite in the breeze; at least until she hit the tiled floor with a wet thump.
FUMP!
Suddenly regretting her actions, Vanya surged forward to catch them before they hit the floor. Lowering the bleeding body to the floor, she found that it was not the Conductor that she had struck like she thought; but her sister, Allison. Blood gushed from the wound on her jugular and no matter how much Vanya tried to stop the bleeding, it just kept flowing; it was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.
"NO! No, no, no! Allison! Please! I'm sorry! Please! Please don't leave me!" Vanya wept as she tried in vain to fix the problem she had cause, but it was to no avail. Allison just stared up at her with glassy eyes and no life left in them. The last thing that Allison recognised as she flew across the room, was her own guilt at her sister's pain. And then she was blinded by a bright flash of light & the sound of a wailing violin sounded in her ears before immeasurable pain exploded across her body as all sound left her; until eventually, sweet, sweet darkness welcomed her like an old friend.
Bowing her head to her sister's unbeating heart, Vanya howled in pain as her Legacies ripped themselves free from their mortal cage, blasting through anything and everything in its attempts to release some of this pain that she felt; that she had wrought upon herself in her hour of need. It wasn't enough; it would never be enough.
"ALLISON!"
When Harold returned home later that day, the last thing he expected to find was a semi-Hargreeves family reunion happening in his bathroom. He said 'semi' because Allison fucking Hargreeves had seemingly broken into their home only to find herself at the mercy of her drug-dosed sister. If he had been there any earlier, he probably would have walked in on the two arguing like a couple of yowling cats in heat; instead he found himself staring down at an unconscious Vanya hung half out of the bathtub whilst Allison was bleeding out in the hallway.
"Oh, Vanya…" Harold shook his head, a fain grin spreading across his lips when he realised what must've happened. "You finally did what you had to do; what I've been telling you to do for years! Probably could have picked a better time to do it, though…"
Heaving a put-upon sigh, Harold rolled up his sleeves and got to work. It was with practised hands that he pulled out the old tarp from the shed—the one that was littered with pine needles from the Christmas tree & died blood from the last time he had done this—and wrapped up Allison's slowly cooling corpse inside, doing his best to ignore the quiet groans of protest from the woman (he was just lucky that she was weak enough not to fight back).
After dragging the tarp-covered woman out to the burial site out behind the shed—the one down by the lake—Harold returned to the cabin to clean up. First was Vanya, who—despite her current state—was much easier to do; of course, it certainly helped things that she was already in the bathtub. Scrubbing her down, before shoving her into a pair of fresh clothes and hefting her into the car was all done with practised hands because, although Harold had never left a crime scene with witness(es) in tow before, he would be damned if he let this prized pig go to slaughter just yet.
So instead Vanya was bundled up and hidden in the car whilst Harold returned to the cabin once again, only this time it was to clean up her other mess, to the best of his abilities (there wasn't much he could do about the busted lightbulbs or shattered windows at that point in time, so cleaning up the blood splatters would have to do). Thankfully, he had practise in this lucrative craft afterall.
Soon enough, Harold deemed the bathroom clean (enough) and quickly retrieved the emergency Go-Bag stationed by the back door, before he scooped up both of his beloved notebooks and made his way back to the car. Mercifully, he had yet to unload the boot which was still full of groceries, which meant that they at least had enough food to last them for a while. But as he peeled out of Jackpine Road like the hounds of hell were on his heels (because past experience told him to never stay in the vicinity of the crime scene and because he knew just how pedantic those Hargreeves could be about each other's whereabouts), Harold knew that they wouldn't be able to return to their usual haunts like before.
With their safe haven, Jackpine Road, now compromised and his childhood home out in Queens blown to smithereens (he'd planted the homemade bomb in the attic years ago, not long after he had killed his father, in the hopes that it would destroy any of the evidence hidden up there. Not that that they even checked up there as it the murder had been considered a crime of passion). Which only left one place he could think of; one place where he knew they would be safe for the time being, away from watchful eyes. It had been a place where they had once gone to be free afterall; out there in the Greenpoint Terminal warehouses where Harold had first met Vanya thirteen years ago.