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.: Chapter 3 :.
"Ew, that's disgusting..." Sky made a face as she gingerly picked up a leftover undergarment between her thumb and forefinger from where it had been carelessly strewn over the bedpost. Sometimes the people who came to stay at the inn would leave questionable items behind. In the last room, she had found a plate of food in the closet that was well on its way to becoming its own miniature environment. "Who does this crap? Is there someone wandering around without underpants?! What the hell!"
She tossed the article of clothing into the trash bin, which was already filled with miscellaneous discarded items. It was completely incredible the way people could use a room for just one night and then leave it looking like a typhoon had swept through it.
Sky let out a long sigh as she resumed wiping down the wooden frame of the bed. Three days had gone by since Olivia had sentenced her to cleaning duty at the inn in exchange for bailing her out of jail, although to Sky it had already felt more like three years. She certainly had a new respect for the previous cleaning lady, that was for damned sure.
She finished cleaning up the room as quickly as possible. It was getting to be lunch time, and she'd been busting her rear all morning. Weekends were the inn's busiest time and, as she'd quickly learned, the most laborious.
While she was dragging a black garbage bag out of the room, the sound of laughter reached her ears from the lobby. Their guest, the so-called 'Mr. Smith,' had a very distinguishable and rather loud voice, so she could immediately tell who the laughter belonged to. Seconds later, a resounding slap could be heard and Sky rolled her eyes. It seemed that the guy never learned. Either that or he was actually a masochist.
Her eyes darted toward the back of the hall just then. Olivia had given her strict instructions to avoid entering her old room, citing that Mr. Smith had requested the room be left alone. Sky had never intended on adhering to that rule, though she hadn't yet been given the opportunity to contravene. That blond man never seemed to leave. It was as if he secretly knew that she was just waiting around for a chance to slip inside the room. How irritating.
Sky was convinced that he was hiding something big, but Olivia would hear nothing of it. They did need the money, that much was true, though Sky had to wonder if they were unwittingly harboring some kind of nefarious misdeed.
More importantly, though, that room still technically belonged to her and she really needed some things from her closet. Sheriff Lowell had refused to give her back the items he'd confiscated from her upon her indictment, stating that they'd been used to commit the crime and therefore must be kept as evidence. Luckily, Sky had extra supplies...the downside being that they were currently under lock and key in that room. She couldn't move forward with any of her schemes without her equipment...
She paused, straightening up to listen in on the conversation as the voices of Mr. Smith and Olivia drifted down the hallway.
.
oOo
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"OH, MISS OLIVIA! You sure know how to wound a man! AHAHAHAHA!" Vash rubbed the fresh red slap mark that adorned his cheek, courtesy of the innkeeper's right hand. He supposed he just didn't know how to keep his mouth shut in certain situations, being that he was a natural-born flirt.
Olivia turned her back to him, returning to what she'd been working on previously. Vash noticed that amid all the keys and paperwork and the cash register, there were also several chalkboards and different-colored pieces of chalk scattered on the desk in Olivia's office. The things she wrote were almost unintelligible, as if she had invented her own language—a mad scrawl of numbers, letters, circles, and symbols. He idly wondered what she did during her free time; she sure wasn't writing down recipes…although on that note, she had turned out to be a decent cook. Olivia had made donuts for Vash on special request and although they weren't the normal donut fare he was used to, he'd found himself enjoying the strange, square-shaped pastries covered in powdered sugar. The mess was another thing—his jeans were fairly covered in patches of white powder and any attempt to brush it off only seemed to make it worse.
He was about to head into town on another supply run, being that his bandage materials were running low. He'd had to change them more frequently than anticipated as a result of Knives' movements agitating the gunshot wounds. Though he was chained, Knives would often thrash about in his sleep, his face contorted in pain and anguish, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead while presumably unimaginable horrors raced through his mind.
Vash had done his best to keep his brother comfortable, though there was only so much that he could do to ease Knives' pain in their current situation. The guilt was already eating at him, but what was the alternative? Trusting Knives right now was absolutely not a risk Vash could take, no matter how apathetic the other plant seemed. Though he could at least do something about the way the cuffs had been cutting into Knives' wrists and ankles, so Vash was going to attempt to find something to line them with. It would be preferable to ripping up the sheets and towels at the inn. He imagined Olivia would like him even less if he did that.
"Don't miss me too much while I'm gone!" He called over his shoulder.
The only reply came in the form of a dismissive grunt from the red-headed woman as the sixty-billion double dollar man headed for the door.
.
oOo
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The telltale chime resonated all the way down the hall, and Sky hesitated for only a moment before she dropped the garbage bag beside the door of the room she'd been standing beside.
He was gone. Now was the chance she'd been waiting for, especially since Olivia was distracted. Sky had seen her a little while ago, completely entranced in her work, and knew that her sister would likely be occupied for several hours. Particularly since Sky had purposely mentioned having noticed a missing towel in one of the rooms.
She turned down the hall, making her way toward the end of the building where she normally stayed. Pausing by the door, she listened very carefully for any kind of sound within. She wondered what sort of condition the man inside would be in. She couldn't help the thoughts that flooded her mind once again. What if he really needed a doctor? What if 'Mr. Smith' was a criminal keeping an injured hostage?
Her heart began to pound at the prospect of walking into a dangerous situation, though it did nothing to deter her from her current plan of action.
She slowly knelt, pulling a pin from the mass of hair tied up on top of her head. If 'Mr. Smith' was a reasonably intelligent man, he should have locked the door before he left. Not that a locked door was a problem for her. Sky made quick work of it, manipulating the lock through the key hole until she heard the satisfying 'click.' Slowly she rose to her feet, her hand grasping the knob, only waiting a moment longer before she twisted it and pushed the door open.
Knives lay prone on the bed within, but he'd been all too aware of the intruder; his keen senses had detected her—yes, her, judging by the lighter footsteps and more graceful movements—even before she'd approached the door.
So, was it a robbery in progress? Knives held back the urge to snort, thinking that any type of thief would be sorely disappointed with what they found inside this room. The décor wasn't much to look at, for one thing; it was dull and lifeless, the furniture shabby, and the previous owner's possessions were mostly worthless junk and common items. Nothing of any value, though he'd seen his brother giggling over the contents of some of the drawers when he thought Knives was asleep.
Sky slowly entered the room, wary eyes searching the darkness. She could just make out a figure reclining on the bed just ahead, though a small voice in the back of her mind discouraged her from approaching.
A soft jangling from the bed signaled movement from its inhabitant just then, and Sky stopped to listen, her gaze trained upon the shadowy figure. Alarm bells went off inside her head, but she couldn't turn back. Not until she'd learned the truth.
She swallowed inaudibly, all words having turned to dust in her throat. Why was every instinct in her body suddenly urging her to run?
The bed creaked loudly as Knives pushed himself up into a sitting position, though he wavered momentarily with the sudden change in equilibrium. He hated how weak he still felt. He could no longer borrow the regenerative prosperities of his brethren to heal his wounds, so his body would have to manage on its own. What a long and tedious process…
His eyes shone faintly blue in the dim lighting of the room, glaring daggers at the outline of the slim figure nearby. He rattled the chains on his arms, ignoring the pain that shot through sensitive, raw flesh as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Who's there…?"
Sky nearly flinched at that tone of voice, combined with the decidedly ominous atmosphere of the room. An uneasy feeling had set up camp in the pit of her stomach. With the help of what little light that filtered in from just outside the door, she could barely manage to make out his face. His features were largely obscured in shadow, giving him a rather hair-raising appearance that did very little to quell the nagging voice in the back of her mind. And his eyes, a sharp icy blue, seemed to pierce right through her despite the lack of light, chilling her to the bone.
The words were caught in the back of her throat, and she swallowed once before speaking. "Room service," she managed to say.
The reply was a scoff as the eyes continued to bore into her. "I didn't call for room service. And to my knowledge, room service should knock rather than break in."
Sky nodded feebly. "Right...I'm sorry about that."
He was definitely not friendly. She did her best to keep her wits about her, remembering the reasons she had gone into that room to begin with. Carefully stepping away from the door, Sky slowly moved toward the wall and felt around for the light switch.
"Pardon the intrusion. I just needed a few things from this room..." She found the switch and flipped it. A dim light flickered on from the lamp fixed onto the ceiling, spreading a soft yellow glow about the room.
Her eyes quickly adjusted to the change in lighting and Sky had to hold back a gasp of shock. The jangling she'd heard as she entered the room...now she realized that she'd been hearing chains clinking against one another. Now she could see that the injured man was shackled to the bed—bloody bandages wrapped around each limb.
"What...what the hell is this...?" She squeaked out.
Her eyes went wide as she took in the sight before her, unwittingly taking a step backward. It was just like a scene from a horror story. She'd been right to worry! Mr. Smith was a madman! Her lips fumbled for words as her mind raced through all the possible reasons that this man could have ended up in such a predicament.
She shook her head. "I knew it, that guy is a psychopath!" Regaining her composure, Sky started toward the bed, noting as she grew closer that the cuffs had been cutting into the man's wrists. She could probably get them off him; surely they weren't any different than every other lock she'd picked. "Hold on, I'm going to get you out of here!"
Knives sucked in a breath through his teeth, torn between the desire to be free of the shackles that kept him prisoner and the aversion for her proximity. He bristled at the sensation of her cold, slender fingers brushing against the hot skin of his irritated wrist when she reached for the first cuff. He snarled when the cool metal scraped against injured flesh in her rush to help him, and although the action certainly hurt, it was his pride that suffered most of all.
Help. Help HIM.
Knives felt more bitterness creep into his chest. Since when had he become such a pitiable creature? He was a god. A perfect specimen. Powerful beyond all comprehension of these insufferable humans. Yet there he was, forced to endure such humiliation just to gain some semblance of freedom. His lips were pressed thin, corners twisting downward as he waited, eyes fixed in a glare as he watched her work.
Sky's brow was furrowed in concentration and she tried not to pay attention to the way his enduring glower made her hair stand on end. Who knew when Mr. Smith—that deranged son of a bitch—would be back? What would he do to her if he caught her freeing his prisoner? She didn't want to find out, but things weren't progressing as quickly as she would have liked; the locks were more complicated than she had anticipated, and the cuffs much heavier than most. She had a thought that Mr. Smith might have had them custom made to suit his victims, and that thought made her skin crawl. Sicko.
The first cuff clicked open and she pried it the rest of the way open. She felt him flinch when her fingers grazed over his skin as she slid it off his wrist.
"It's okay," she assured him as she let the metal cuff drop to the floor with a weighty thump, realizing that perhaps he'd been through more than she could have possibly known. "I'm not going to hurt..." She glanced up at his face just then and the words died on her lips. His stare cut right through her, sending a chill down her spine and alarm bells ringing in her head. "It's...it's okay," she repeated. "I'm only trying to help." She hoped that she sounded more confident than she felt. She swallowed, moving on to the next cuff at his ankle.
But seeing the way the cuff had cut through the cloth around his ankle silenced all the anxiety in her head. He was probably just scared, she reasoned to herself. And of course he was! Anyone would have trust issues after having been locked up and chained to a bed, obviously tortured and mistreated! Sky was silent for the duration of the time she worked, moving from one cuff to the other, until finally she had reached the last one on his other arm. Once she got him out of there, Sky planned to go to Sheriff Lowell and report Mr. Smith right away. There was no way she could let such a horrific atrocity go unpunished!
When the last cuff dropped to the floor, Sky dared to meet his eyes again, offering a small smile. "There, all done! You're free! It's going to be okay."
Knives let out a long, slow, deliberate breath as he flexed his wrists, eyes lingering on the red welts on his skin. Yes…free, indeed. This was much better.
The bed creaked as he stood, rising to his full height before her. Sky responded by rising from her crouch and taking a cautionary step backward, her gaze fixed upon his face; brow slightly drawn together and lips parted, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
It was another moment before Knives realized that the look she was giving him was not one of awe, but pity. He felt a hot stab of anger at the thought of this wretched, disgusting creature feeling any sort of sorrow for him. As if he were a whipped dog who'd just been freed from a cruel master. An animal let out of a cage.
He felt his blood boil. Human arrogance. They were all the same. All too willing to take pride in such trivial acts of benevolence, as if such things excused them in any way from their inherent selfishness and the atrocities they'd committed.
His lips curled upward in a sinister smirk as he advanced toward her.
"I suppose you're expecting me to thank you," he finally said as he loomed over her, his voice deep and gravelly from lack of use.
Sky was a bit taken aback, and her tone reflected her unease. "Well, no, I mean…I just wanted to help you."
Knives' eyes became slits as a look of utter revulsion warped his already-sharp features. "Your sympathy is wasted on me, little girl."
His eyes bored into hers for another few seconds. Suddenly his hand shot out toward her neck, fingers easily clamping around her white throat. She had no time to react, only uttered a strangled noise of surprise as he applied pressure to her trachea. Her eyes bulged and she clutched at his hand with both of her own, trying to loosen his grip, but he was strong…far stronger than she would have imagined someone in his condition to be.
Why…?
Knives had a dark look in his eyes as his grip continued to tighten, enjoying the way her face contorted in her struggle as he continued to cut off her air supply. It was all too easy. How could a species so weak be so damaging to the world around them? How he hated them all. His lips twisted into a sneer, unaffected by the way her nails clawed at the hand that suffocated her, nor by the way she thrashed about in a feeble, failing attempt to break free.
He was crushing her. Killing her. Sky felt as though her head might pop right off her neck. Black spots began to swim before her eyes, her strength quickly fading. If she didn't get air soon...
Suddenly there was a rustling sound at the door, followed by crinkling and a loud thump as something was dropped.
"Knives!"
Vash's voice rang out as he slid into the room, nearly losing his balance in the process and gasping in horror at the scene before him. He dove at his brother, knocking Knives backward and forcing his arm from the girl's throat.
Caught off-balance, Knives fell, and the brothers rolled over onto the ground until Vash managed to pin down the other plant's arms.
"Vash…" Knives growled low in his throat as he struggled against the weight of his brother's body, annoyed by his weakened state and the fact that Vash had the upper hand yet again. "Get the hell off me, brother. I wasn't finished thanking my 'savior'." He let out a menacing cackle, not missing the pained expression that crossed his brother's face in response.
Typical. That fool was so soft for those insects.
Vash gritted his teeth and squeezed his brother's wrists where they were raw and bloody, eliciting a groan of pain from the other plant. He then released one hand, using the other to deliver a debilitating punch to Knives' abdomen. The action bought him just enough time to haul his brother back to the bed and secure his wrists and ankles once more.
Stepping back while Knives seethed in a silent rage, Vash turned to the girl. "Hey…Miss Sky! Are you alright?!"
Sky hadn't moved from the spot on the floor where she had collapsed. Her chest was still heaving as she gulped down mouthfuls of the oxygen she'd been deprived of, one hand delicately clutching at the ugly, hand-shaped bruise already forming on her throat. Her head was swimming, barely aware of what had just occurred.
Vash felt guilt crash over him, along with several other emotions that made his chest constrict. How despicable… He couldn't help but reach out for her, gently taking her by the shoulders, and for a moment she allowed it…until she thought to look up at his face.
Panic took hold of her just then, and she jerked away as if she'd been stung. "N-no!" She choked out, her throat feeling just as compacted as it had moments ago.
With shaky legs, Sky pushed herself to her feet and took a few wobbly steps backward. She had to get out of there. Whatever it was that Mr. Smith was up to, clearly this 'injured man' was in on it as well. They were both dangerous. Probably serial killers! She spared only a glance at her attacker, just to make sure he couldn't come after her again, before she turned and stumbled her way out of the room.
Knives grunted from the bed, and then a hysterical laugh bubbled up from his chest. His turned his head to stare up at his brother, eyes full of gleeful malice. "You just want to be one of them, but you NEVER will be. You don't belong. Even the humans know that—sense that. She thinks you're a psychopath!" He continued to laugh, even as it wracked his body with pain from the still-healing wounds.
Vash curled his hands into tight fists at his sides as he looked down at his brother again. A second later, he was taking off at a full run after the injured girl.
"MISS SKY! PLEASE WAIT!"
Sky heard him calling after her and although she initially did not intend to stop, she found herself leaning dizzily against the wall as she made her way down the hall. He easily caught up to her, but she whirled around before he had the chance to reach out and touch her.
"Don't!" She snapped, her eyes wild with fear.
Vash immediately backed off and held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. "Easy…easy…I promise you, I won't hurt you. I'm so sorry…please…just let me help you. This never should've happened." His brow furrowed in anguish. "I'm so sorry, Miss Sky…so sorry…please…" He reached out to her once again, more slowly.
She flinched away from him again, though not as forcefully as she had before. Her throat was hoarse and sore as it strained around her voice. "No! You...what the hell was that about?! Who ARE you?!" She demanded as her eyes filled with tears.
He sighed. This was the part he always dreaded the most; when they found out that he wasn't who he said he was. That he was something far worse…something so different that whenever the truth came out, the distance between himself and human beings suddenly became immeasurable. He hated every minute of it. All he wanted was to be close to them. He loved them all so much, truly.
Vash grimaced as he mentally prepared himself to have that conversation, rubbing at the back of his head. "I'm sorry I had to lie to you, Miss Sky. I'm not proud of it. But you…you can see why I'm keeping him chained, can't you?"
Sky shook her head fiercely, her arms crossed protectively in front of her. "That's not an answer! Who was that? Who are you?!"
Vash stared at the floor a moment before exhaling slowly, looking utterly defeated. "He's my brother," he admitted softly. "My name is Vash…"
Sky's mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out. His brother? Her mind was racing as she tried to comprehend this new information. The name was familiar. Anyone who hadn't been living under a rock had heard it before. It was a name attached to legends. Infamous, even. And, thinking about it, the so-called brother had indeed referred to him by that name; during her haze of near-unconsciousness she could distinctly remember that much.
"Vash?" She finally said, her voice having gone soft. "You don't mean...you can't mean..." She suddenly found herself needing to lean against the wall for support. 'Not the Humanoid Typhoon,' was what she'd wanted to say, but words eluded her.
"Yes," he solemnly confirmed, gentle eyes locking onto hers. "I'm sorry. I know you probably don't believe me, or wouldn't even want to, and I can't blame you. But I am that Vash." He dropped his gaze, head bowing low. "We'll leave. Before dawn tomorrow, I promise we'll be gone. There won't be any more trouble."
Sky's hand still rested at her neck, and she was giving him a very scrutinizing look. She swallowed, wondering absently if her throat would ever feel the same again. Her mind was reeling, from both the attack and from the confession he'd just thrown at her.
"I think," she began, as her legs began to give out beneath her, "I think I need to sit down."
Vash moved forward just in time to catch her before she crumpled to the floor. He easily scooped her into his arms, noting that she was fighting to stay conscious.
"Miss Sky, you have to tell me…what room are you staying in? I'll bring you there so you can rest."
She squirmed a bit in his arms, but eventually decided it wasn't worth the fight. If he'd wanted to hurt her, he would have already done so. Still, she made an effort to keep her head upright as she pointed up the hall. "I'm in 104."
Vash nodded and carried her toward the room, noting that it was nearer to the front of the inn. Mercifully, the door was unlocked and he was able to get inside without much difficulty, pushing it the rest of the way open with his shoulder as he entered.
The room was bare and white without any trace of the owner's personality, which made sense given the fact that this was apparently not Sky's actual room. Vash approached her bed and gently placed her down, then took several steps backward in an attempt to give her plenty of space. He ran a hand through his hair as he fretted over the situation. She would no doubt have questions. How could he even begin to explain to her exactly what it meant to be Vash the Stampede? He'd given the insurance girl, Meryl, the abridged version of the sordid tale once, and he remembered the way her eyes had continually widened in ever-growing shock.
But this situation was different. Sky had nearly been killed, and this as all his fault. Vash wasn't sure anything could ever make up for that. People had a right to feel safe in their own homes, and he had violated that right by harboring Knives in her home. Was anyone really safe in this town, as long as he and his brother inhabited it?
Vash watched her for a minute or two to be certain that she was alright. "Miss Sky, is there anything I can get for you? Anything from your room that you want? I…know we occupied it without your permission. I'm so sorry…I…" He trailed off not sure what else was appropriate to say. What kind of questions was she going to ask, if any? Should he just leave? Would she go to the Sherriff before he had a chance to skip town? Honestly, Vash wouldn't blame her for that.
Sky was silent for a while, still feeling rather overwhelmed by both the near-death experience and the revelation of his identity...which she was actually inclined to believe, as crazy as it seemed. Vash the Stampede...and he had a brother? She recalled with vivid clarity the strength with which said brother had gripped her neck, even in such a supposedly weakened state. Her throat felt raw, and she coughed against the phantom stricture that she couldn't seem to swallow down. She drew her legs up, tucking her knees beneath her chin as she studied the blond man carefully.
She should go to the Sheriff, she thought to herself. She ought to report Vash and his horrible brother. She should have them arrested or, at the very least, exiled. How could she have possibly been living under the same roof as those two monsters? At the very least, Olivia needed to be informed. They'd both heard all the terrible rumors of the Humanoid Typhoon. Anyone would be insane to willingly allow him to take residence in their inn, no matter how badly they needed the money.
Hell, he had already promised to leave. She should tell him to go now.
She should tell him off, she should be angry...she had every right.
But there was such anguish on his face at that moment that it cut right through her resolve and she found herself unable to say anything. He expected it. He anticipated her anger at his deceit, to be turned in and kicked out right on the spot. She could see it in those soft aquamarine eyes that patiently awaited her decree.
How could this person in front of her be the very same one who'd been making a complete fool of himself just an hour before? Sky was at a loss for words. She couldn't even begin to try making sense of it all. Not yet. Not tonight.
"I have a duffle bag in the closet," she finally said. "That's all I wanted."
Vash nodded. He reached out, thinking to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze, but then thought better of it and pulled back. Contact was probably the last thing she wanted at that moment.
"Okay. I'll be right back."
Exiting through the open door, he made his way back to the borrowed room. He ignored the hoarse laughter of Knives as he dug through the closet and retrieved her duffle bag. It was heavy, he noted, and packed so tightly that the zipper barely held the bag closed. He tilted his head to the side, curious about what she might have stashed away in there, but no longer willing to infringe upon her privacy as he'd done with a certain underwear drawer. He wouldn't be pulling any stunts like that anymore, he vowed silently. Miss Sky deserved respect. And for the remainder of the time he'd be spending under the roof of her family's inn, he would give her every ounce that he could.
"What are you doing, brother?" Knives rattled his chains as he leaned forward on the bed. "Being her little errand boy, are you?" He smirked. "The levels at which you stoop to please the humans sickens me."
Vash grimaced and threw Knives a dirty look over his shoulder, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice as he shot back, "We're leaving at daybreak. I hope you're happy. They're probably going to come after us because of this. But what do you care? You don't care about anything at all."
He threw the bag over his shoulder and left quickly, before Knives could supply an answer. He didn't feel like interacting with his brother, he was so angry and upset with him in that moment that he didn't trust himself not to completely break down.