'I'm a terrible person. I'm a terrible, terrible person.'
The thought ran around in his head over and over again, intermingled with the memories of the past few minutes, which were flowing through his mind like a river he couldn't stop if he tried.
Across the room, the plant seemed quite pleased with itself, either unnoticing or uncaring of the distressed state of the human sitting in the corner with his knees hugged to his chest. Picking at a stray scrap of fabric still stuck between its teeth, the green creature continued to fill the room with a self-satisfied humming, occasionally throwing in a few words of the tune that had talked its way into a meal.
"Suppertime…"
Seymour turned his face further away, curling in on himself tighter. He couldn't even stand to look at the plant, let alone talk with it.
The creature, already starting to look a little larger than before, finally took notice of him. It seemed rather offended that its actions weren't being met with any sort of appreciation or gratitude.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want me to let him run off and tell everyone what he saw?"
Seymour didn't answer, his thoughts once again running through everything all over again. Finding out that Mr. Mushnik had come to speak with him after the joust had ended, and arrived just in time to see Lord Scrivello lying dead on the ground and Seymour standing over him with a weapon. Being confronted with the accusation that was of course the only logical assumption at seeing such a sight. The wave of fear, knowing what might happen to him if everyone found out. The brief, tentative moment of hope when Mr. Mushnik offered to keep it a secret and let him go free. Thinking that perhaps the man who was the closest thing he'd ever known to a father saw him as a son as well. Those hopes being dashed when it became clear he only wanted to use what he knew as a bargaining tool to get the plant for himself. The worry of not only what might happen to him, but also what would happen if Mr. Mushnik realized how he could use the plant to get rich. Watching the giant, gaping pod get closer and closer as a voice in his head told him it was the only way, and being too afraid to even try to stop what was happening until it was too late.
"Alright, fine. Have your little breakdown." The plant's deep voice commented as it took in his unresponsive form. "You can thank me later."
Seymour couldn't take it anymore. He abruptly stood up, scrambled to grab the key to the room so he could make sure no one else would get near the plant, and rushed away as fast as he could once he was sure the room was locked. There was no possible way he was going to sleep that night, and roaming the halls seemed a much better option than spending any more time than necessary around the creature he now couldn't see as anything but a monster.
The next few days were such a blur that he could hardly tell whether he was awake or in a nightmare. He could hardly manage to sleep anyway, and he wasn't sure whether or not it was worse than being awake. Sleep was full of horrible dreams, and the day was full of a never-ending parade of nobles wanting his attention. Though it was clear it wasn't him they were interested in, he was just the way to get to the plant that had captured everyone's attention. They made him offers, promised he'd make a name for himself, assured him could have a thriving treasury. All he had to do was form an agreement with someone who would know the best way to exploit the rare plant he'd come across.
If only they knew the messy, nasty strings that came with those promises.
If he kept going down this path, then of course it meant he would have to keep the plant alive. He'd have to keep doing bloody, awful, evil things. And the more he thought of it, the more he couldn't stand the idea. He shouldn't have even let it get this far. He couldn't stand feeling like he'd break if he bent any further, and he couldn't stand feeling like he was walking around in a nightmare.
In a rush of energy in the middle of another troubled night, he felt that he couldn't wait one more moment to put a stop to it all. After grabbing the nearest weapon he could find, he'd marched down to the room he'd been avoiding, planning to hack the plant to bits if that was what it took to be rid of the hold it had taken on his life. He didn't care if someone offered him all the money in the world. It had to end, even if it meant he would be nothing but a penniless orphan with no future again. The vegetable had to be destroyed.
But then… there was Audrey.
His resolve wavering, he let go of the door and took a step back.
There was nothing that terrified him nearly as much as the thought of losing her. And how could he ask her to spend her life with him if he had the same impoverished life as before? And she almost certainly wouldn't be allowed to, even if he could hope that she wanted to. The looks and whisperings surrounding him made it clear that he wasn't a proper match for her just because of who he was. The only reason he could even be considered was because her house needed money and he had an opportunity to provide it. Without the plant, he'd have to go off on his own again, and she'd be left to be married off to another nobleman who could very well be just as bad as Lord Scrivello. How could he live with himself if he condemned her to such a fate?
The plant would have to stay. He'd just have to figure out if there was anything right he could do, and hope against hope that everything turned out alright somehow.