A/N: I thought this up just...randomly. I dunno, the idea appealed to me. If it's inaccurate to The Vile Village, I'm sorry. I don't have a copy with me at the moment. I will in December though!
Disclaimer: Do I look like Daniel Handler? (The answer is no to those of you who can't see me, which is all of you so...yah.)
I Need Violet
Klaus...
I reached up to grasp the next rung on the ladder. It was difficult, especially because of the feathers that seemed to be swarming all around me, suffocating me, blinding me. I tried to squint up through the sheet of graying, ugly crow feathers that fatigued my vision. Sunny had made just about it into the self-sustaining hot-air mobile home, and Duncan was just in front of her, reaching out to pull her up. I heard Violet shriek below me.
"Klaus! Look out!" Isadora screamed up to me. As quick as lightning, something whizzed past my ear and jammed into the rope ladder just above me. A harpoon. The ladder began to unravel slowly, slowly, but if any weight were put upon it, it would sever. It seemed to be teasing everyone below it, spinning us round and round yet all we could do was cling to the remaining rope.
"Violet! Klaus!" Sunny shrieked from above. I heard Esme cackling below and the rope gave in. All I could do was keep my eyes open. I could not scream, I could not think, I only saw Sunny's face becoming smaller, and smaller, until I hit the ground. I heard Duncan screaming out Isadora's name and heard Sunny crying, but then my eyes flickered shut.
"Duncan...Duncan..." I heard Isadora whisper feebly beside me. I instantly rolled over. Violet was conscious, trying to awaken a half-awake, half-unconscious Isadora. I scooted over beside Violet. I didn't want to look at her. Why had she taken the fall so hard? Why were Violet and I perfectly unharmed, yet she might be dying? I looked at her beautiful yet pale face and ran my fingers through her hair. I was suddenly shaken out of my thoughts of her by angry shouts coming from behind me. I snapped my head around to see Olaf and a band of angry V.F.D elders. There was no escaping now, not with Violet sobbing towards the sky and Isadora lying unconscious, possibly dying. I would have to face Olaf myself this time.
"It's not cool," Olaf said, snapping his fingers, "to fall off of a rope ladder." I glared. "It is also not cool," he continued, snapping again, "for a murder's accomplices to run away from their punishment."
"But now that we've caught them," one of the elders in the crowd yelled, "We can burn them at the stake!" I sat still with one hand on Isadora's forehead and the other arm over Violet's shaking shoulders. I listened as the crowd cheer, shouted approval of our deaths. Deaths of the innocent.
"But we just ran all through town! My feet are sore," another man in the crowd whined. "Why run all the way back to the center of town dragging them along, when we can come up with a worse punishment right here?" Once again the crowd cheered approval. I wanted to clamp my hands over my ears, yet I didn't remove my arm from Violet's shoulders or Isadora's forehead, which was a deathly cold. Yet I saw her chest rising and falling. There was still hope yet.
"What could be worse than being burned at the stake?" an elder woman asked incredulously from another part of the mob.
"I think I know just the sentence for these murderous accomplices," Esme said, a malicious smile on the half of her face visible from under her motorcycle helmet. She nodded to Olaf, or "Detective Dupin" from under her helmet and he nodded in return. He strutted up to me and wrenched Violet and Isadora up off the ground, yanking their arms stiffly behind their backs, not enabling them to fight back, or at least Violet to fight back. Count Olaf held Isadora by the back of her dripping black sweater so that her feet dangled inches above the ground and chin rested limply on her chest. Esme, in turn, grabbed my arms and locked them together behind my back. She smiled malevolently and aimed her last harpoon toward both Violet, whose eyes went wide, and Isadora, whose eyes were still closed. "Now, Klaus," she said to me, "I am going to count to three, and when I reach three, I am going to shoot whichever of these girls I just so happen to be pointing my gun at. Unless, that is, if you happen to tell me to kill one of them and spare the other. Now you get to choose Klaus Baudelaire. One!"
I looked at Isadora, at her unconscious figure being held limply above the ground. I couldn't help but let a tear escape from the sturdy dam my eyes had built up since my unfortunate cycle began. She was still beautiful, even if her face was emotionless. Her dark hair that I had previously run my fingers through (yet wished to run them through when she was conscious), was hanging just over her shoulders and her lips were set in an emotionless line. Yet I felt so sorry. I wanted to save her, but she might die either way. I knew I loved her, but I just...didn't know.
"Two!" Esme screeched with malice as she turned the harpoon gun in the other direction.
I looked at Violet, her eyes wide in shock and fear. She was my only sibling now, I realized. Sunny, poor Sunny, was floating high above us now, and I would probably never see her again. Violet had protected me through everything, and would protect me through anything. I would hate to see her die. I don't think I could bear to see her die. I couldn't bear to see her die...and I would not see her die.
"Three!"
I looked at both girls. Violet, my protector, Isadora my love. Violet, my only sibling, Isadora, my wonder of the world. Violet, my savior, Isadora, my hope.
"Wait!" I screamed at Esme, tears streaming down my face in consistent torrents now. "I need Violet! I can't live without Violet! Please, please...do not...kill Violet." I finished, and fell to my knees. Esme smiled wickedly.
"I knew you'd give in, you weak Baudelaire brat," Esme scoffed at me, and pointed the harpoon gun in Isadora's direction. But then I looked into her eyes. Wait...I looked into her eyes? Looking up again, I saw that Isadora had regained consciousness and was staring at me, her face damp not only with fountain water, but also with her tears. Her face held the deepest expression, I could never explain. Her eyes were set wide, boring holes into my own, and she was biting her bottom lip as if she could not believe what she just heard. Then I realized as a wave of understanding washed over me. She had heard me sacrifice her. But she really couldn't expect me to save her and not Violet, could she? 'Yes she could,' I told myself. She could ask me to save her. She had faith in me, yet I had failed her. 'But what about Violet?' I asked myself. She was my sister, but Isadora was my love.
I couldn't bear this anymore. I couldn't see Violet die, yet I could not look at the hurt on Isadora's face. Esme had her gun aimed directly at Isadora's chest, and her finger on the trigger. I had to do one thing before Isadora or I died. I stood and ran over to her. Throwing my arms around her I whispered, "I love you Isadora, and I'm sorry." I felt piercing, numbing pain in my back, and fell to the ground. I heard Violet's sobbing, Isadora screaming, cheering of the mob, and heard no more.
Blechey, it seems a bit too...evil for my taste. I usually don't have any deaths in my stories, but I felt the need to write this one. Tell me if it was up to your standards! I don't feel it is one of my best though.
Okay, I really didn't want to kill Klaus. I really didn't want to kill Violet. I really didn't want to kill Isadora.