Too Far
Posted: Tue Nov 30, 2021 8:36 pm
We're going too far this time.
Beatrice had been quiet for the past few weeks. Her Shadow, Trixie, had been in control more and more. She was able to control her dark thoughts for fragmentary moments. But since Skylar had been taken her wraith was firmly in control. Beatrice had never cared for Skylar as a person. He had been convenient. But she didn't wish him harm. She didn't mean for him to be put in danger. To die.
But that wasn't the opening Trixie had used to slip into the driver's seat. Beatrice was ashamed that it was the withdrawal. The irritation, the weakness, and the frantic thoughts that had come without her fix. Skylar may have shocked her into anger and remorse. But Trixie's real ticket in had been the loss of her hunting grounds. The loss of a stable haven hadn't helped. Beatrice didn't know where she would sleep each day, or who she'd have to kill to do so.
But she had stayed quiet. She had trusted Trixie like she always did. She'd be dead without her shadow to do the things she couldn't. She had been a good girl. For Juliet. For Klein. For everyone. They seemed to prefer Trixie anyways, so it was for the best that she was the one in control.
But tonight she was going too far.
Trixie please...
Well look who's decided to pipe up! Beatrice's own foreign thoughts assailed her at the back of her own mind. Late to the party, as always. That's why you wound up with heroin - all the good drugs were gone. Beatrice recoiled in her consciousness. Her Shadow knew which buttons to press.
Trixie they won't stand for this. Nobody will. We're going too far. And besides...haven't we killed enough people?
Not until we've won. And we are winning.
Then why not stop now?
Why the fuck would you want that? Don't you want payback for your little boytoy?
This won't get Skylar back.
Who cares about getting him back? This isn't about your Nursing school crush, stupid. The moment they think they can fuck with us, they win.
The two looked into the reflection of the elevator wall together, as they did everything. Beatrice couldn't see herself - she could see Trixie, though. Even if they had the same body and even if Trixie used her own face, Beatrice didn't imagine Trixie as her own twin. She imagined her as the mask she so favored. The pale white, featureless mask with black around its eyes and small lips. She imagined the black clothes Trixie always wore. She imagined the last thing that David Bloom - that all of their victims - ever saw.
She knew she needed Trixie. But she hated her. And Beatrice was confident the feeling was mutual.
Look, you dumb fucking blonde. Juliet's been perfectly clear on this. Trixie looked into the elevator's reflection some more, knowing the camera in the corner couldn't see her. And so has Oliver. We kill this one for Juliet. We kill this one for Oliver. And then we're set!
Set for what?
What kind of stupid fucking question is that?
What do we get? That thought caught in Beatrice's head. It swirled around, taunting her and her Shadow. They've promised us a good unlife. But every time we do what they ask, they always ask for more.
Well this will be the last time.
What if it isn't? There was silence in Beatrice's mind for a moment. A moment of reprieve. But then her Shadow smiled. She couldn't see the smile behind the mask. But she could feel her own lips curl and stretch up her face.
Would that really bother you? Don't pretend you don't enjoy it. I know I do.
Beatrice was silent in her own mind. She hated what she was doing. She always had. At least she tried to convince herself that she did. But if she really hated it, why did she let Trixie continue? Why did she relish the howling in her ears as she stabbed? Why didn't she stop?
Because you have no choice. If you stop, you'll die. It's them or you. There's no way out. And besides what makes this one different from everyone else you've killed?
I don't know Beatrice conceded. It's...just a feeling. That we're going too far this time.
Well get over it. We've been standing in this elevator for like 20 minutes.
Beatrice reached out and pressed the button to open the door. Trixie may have driven her thoughts, but she was never truly in control. Deep down, Beatrice knew that she couldn't blame what she did on some alter ego. On some shadow. But at the same time she was too weak to fight it off. She had always been too weak. Too weak to get through medical school. Too weak to survive her own stupid decisions six months before. Too weak to tell Skylar she liked him before she made him like her.
And too weak to stop herself from going too far.
Beatrice had been quiet for the past few weeks. Her Shadow, Trixie, had been in control more and more. She was able to control her dark thoughts for fragmentary moments. But since Skylar had been taken her wraith was firmly in control. Beatrice had never cared for Skylar as a person. He had been convenient. But she didn't wish him harm. She didn't mean for him to be put in danger. To die.
But that wasn't the opening Trixie had used to slip into the driver's seat. Beatrice was ashamed that it was the withdrawal. The irritation, the weakness, and the frantic thoughts that had come without her fix. Skylar may have shocked her into anger and remorse. But Trixie's real ticket in had been the loss of her hunting grounds. The loss of a stable haven hadn't helped. Beatrice didn't know where she would sleep each day, or who she'd have to kill to do so.
But she had stayed quiet. She had trusted Trixie like she always did. She'd be dead without her shadow to do the things she couldn't. She had been a good girl. For Juliet. For Klein. For everyone. They seemed to prefer Trixie anyways, so it was for the best that she was the one in control.
But tonight she was going too far.
Trixie please...
Well look who's decided to pipe up! Beatrice's own foreign thoughts assailed her at the back of her own mind. Late to the party, as always. That's why you wound up with heroin - all the good drugs were gone. Beatrice recoiled in her consciousness. Her Shadow knew which buttons to press.
Trixie they won't stand for this. Nobody will. We're going too far. And besides...haven't we killed enough people?
Not until we've won. And we are winning.
Then why not stop now?
Why the fuck would you want that? Don't you want payback for your little boytoy?
This won't get Skylar back.
Who cares about getting him back? This isn't about your Nursing school crush, stupid. The moment they think they can fuck with us, they win.
The two looked into the reflection of the elevator wall together, as they did everything. Beatrice couldn't see herself - she could see Trixie, though. Even if they had the same body and even if Trixie used her own face, Beatrice didn't imagine Trixie as her own twin. She imagined her as the mask she so favored. The pale white, featureless mask with black around its eyes and small lips. She imagined the black clothes Trixie always wore. She imagined the last thing that David Bloom - that all of their victims - ever saw.
She knew she needed Trixie. But she hated her. And Beatrice was confident the feeling was mutual.
Look, you dumb fucking blonde. Juliet's been perfectly clear on this. Trixie looked into the elevator's reflection some more, knowing the camera in the corner couldn't see her. And so has Oliver. We kill this one for Juliet. We kill this one for Oliver. And then we're set!
Set for what?
What kind of stupid fucking question is that?
What do we get? That thought caught in Beatrice's head. It swirled around, taunting her and her Shadow. They've promised us a good unlife. But every time we do what they ask, they always ask for more.
Well this will be the last time.
What if it isn't? There was silence in Beatrice's mind for a moment. A moment of reprieve. But then her Shadow smiled. She couldn't see the smile behind the mask. But she could feel her own lips curl and stretch up her face.
Would that really bother you? Don't pretend you don't enjoy it. I know I do.
Beatrice was silent in her own mind. She hated what she was doing. She always had. At least she tried to convince herself that she did. But if she really hated it, why did she let Trixie continue? Why did she relish the howling in her ears as she stabbed? Why didn't she stop?
Because you have no choice. If you stop, you'll die. It's them or you. There's no way out. And besides what makes this one different from everyone else you've killed?
I don't know Beatrice conceded. It's...just a feeling. That we're going too far this time.
Well get over it. We've been standing in this elevator for like 20 minutes.
Beatrice reached out and pressed the button to open the door. Trixie may have driven her thoughts, but she was never truly in control. Deep down, Beatrice knew that she couldn't blame what she did on some alter ego. On some shadow. But at the same time she was too weak to fight it off. She had always been too weak. Too weak to get through medical school. Too weak to survive her own stupid decisions six months before. Too weak to tell Skylar she liked him before she made him like her.
And too weak to stop herself from going too far.