Chapter Text
“Focus.” Casey repeated, concentrating each of her senses on the brown rabbit scurrying ahead of her through the forest floor. “Focus, Casey. Focus.”
When the sun had bathed the world in gold, it had been as if the very earth had come alive. Chaos draped around her in a dizzying amalgam of fresh scents and emotions that tasted familiar but settled strangely on her tongue.
Memories, sweet and full of freedom tempted her but she knew the agony and pain that lurked at the edges. She had known if she let a single memory in, they would all rush over her and suffocate her until she was left in a catatonic ball once more.
Casey had refused to let another day be wasted reliving her twisted childhood. She had grit her teeth, forced herself to her feet, and had sworn John Cooke would no longer hold any influence in her life.
Her new determination aside, the newness in the air had still assaulted her senses. It had made her pause for longer than she had cared to admit while she had tried to find her footing amid the flood of new sensations around her.
It was the taste of energy that held her. It was flavorless but undeniable and sent a shiver through her skin. Like a live battery pressed against her tongue or a shot of pure caffeine hitting her veins after days without sleep. It was electrifying and incredibly easy to hone in on. The energy was enveloped by the scent of fur mixed with dust and dirt and the crackling leaves that camouflaged the brown hare were easily separated in her eyes.
It began to hop, a gentle thrumming at its paws revealing its simple need to move.
All animals head towards water.
Ansel’s words prompted Casey forward. She followed the rabbit’s scent as it led her along an unmarked path and prayed the rabbit hadn’t decided it wanted to simply wander aimlessly.
As the sun began to move in the sky and a brown rabbit led her along, the world began to slowly make sense. The scents and taste were familiar and not just because she’d been to the woods before, but because it wasn’t the first time she’d caught them. She knew the scent of fallen leaves that lingered in her school’s field and the taste of fur and feathers that always lay just out of sight but ever-present.
They were purer in the woods, however. They existed in a simplicity and a transparency that were foreign to her.
The taste of ozone blanketed the streets and the pervasive scent of concrete and engine fumes were hallmarks to her city and were constant backdrops to every sensation. She knew how to keep her mind intact in a crowd full of emotions bursting at flesh-colored seams while stoic masks pretended stability. She knew how to breath in just the right way when someone stood too close that a few pointed words easily stabbed their hidden underbellies and gave her back her space. Humans were layers upon layers of emotions and circumstances and a myriad of complications. Nothing was pure to them. Happiness didn’t even exist. It was tainted by a burst of joy, a sigh of contentment, spilled bittersweet tears, or even a cackle of cruelty. It was always more and less and giving a story too long for something that lasted no longer than a moment.
The woods didn’t have to deal with the man-made pandemonium. Scents flowed, they belonged, they existed and that was enough.
A flock of blackbirds were settled high on her left. An inhale revealed the same whisper of energy as her rabbit and the beginning of a gnawing sensation twisting within the most vocal of their group. She could taste the sharp air teasing at their feathers and a scent so uniquely and completely them her nose refused to classify it as anything other than blackbird.
The birds felt a need in their wings to soar and a tightening in their stomachs for food. They weren’t happy, upset, frustrated, or annoyed. They simply were. It wasn’t numbness, Casey knew that feeling too intimately to be confused, but it was an almost completeness. They cocked their heads in curiosity and danced with the wind in bliss, but it didn’t define them. It didn’t overpower everything else. Above it all they were blackbirds no matter what they did and nothing was capable of changing that simple fact.
When Casey was little, she’d been too preoccupied trying to make everyone believe her shattered world hadn’t changed that she’d been ignorant of her new reality. She’d been blind. In the years that followed, how often had she answered questions with phrases only she understood? How many strangers had she swayed her way when she wanted them gone or wanted them to focus on something else? How many times had she wondered if people were just lucky enough not to recognize the taste of oil?
Casey remembered riding in Simba with her father at the wheel as they headed to the woods for the first time. She remembered his eyes glowing in the sunlight, his grin teasing her, and his hands warm over hers. She knew she had been nervous but excited and that her father had felt the exact same.
She didn’t remember the scent of her father’s sunshine or anything in the air that made her certain of his feeling, she just remembered his smile and how that made her feel.
Casey hadn’t caught oil when John wrapped her in his too big arms that stole her breath. She hadn’t caught something sour or stomach-turning or wrong, he had just always scared her. Maybe because she couldn’t explain it, it was so easy to brush aside-
Until it wasn’t. Until a “game” justified her fear and oil began to gather in throat forcing her to breathe nothing else.
She could taste sunshine, afterwards, but it was never enough to fix her.
The image of The Beast, a wall of power and flesh outlined in black veins, flashed before her eyes. She remembered the overwhelming surety that it couldn’t be the same person, yet he and the others had claimed the same patterns of freckles and scars on their skins…
Whatever The Beast was, he wasn’t human, not completely.
Casey stared at her palms smeared with dirt and caked with blood.
The broken are the more evolved.
She brought her gaze up, unerringly locking onto the brown rabbit moving further away from her. Its scent lay almost like a tether to her mind and she wouldn’t lose track of it.
The Beast was an animal barely contained in human flesh. He’d “evolved” beyond it, and not in the metaphoric way she’d originally believed.
Casey began to wonder just how much she had “evolved.”
“Barry? Are you alright?”
Alright?
What a strange word that was; alright. Or was it a phrase? It was meant to mean “all right,” wasn’t it? It was meant to say that Barry was all right in the body, the head, and the soul. That he was “right.” That he was perfect and complete and the same shade of shelf that he was created to be.
And what did “all” mean? Yeah, it was him, but what about the others? Most people didn’t believe they should be counted as individuals if they shared the same body. Did that mean that all the others needed to be right for Barry to be all right? Was this a moral question or a question of creation? Were they right if they were doing what they were born to even if it wasn’t what was technically considered “right?”
Blood and brain the only things that remained of human head teased his memory.
Barry blinked rapidly.
It didn’t matter what the phrase meant. Barry was not all right.
They’d murdered a man in cold blood. They’d shot him with his own gun and had celebrated, fucking celebrated, when the news had reported the man’s death as a “tragic suicide.”
Everyone had so easily believed the man had taken drastic measures after being overcome with grief for his missing niece. Not even a single neighbor had doubted.
It had all been perfectly carried out and so very, very easy.
They had all agreed, every single member of their group. They’d “chosen” The Beast’s path and taken their steps forward as one.
Patricia and The Beast had held the light and the gun, but not a single one of them had protested. Not at the end. It was true they had already decided but seeing the man- A few hours watching John Cooke had caused a crawling in their skin that they all knew too well.
Barry felt as if they were losing Kevin. As if each move forward by The Beast drew them further and further away from the only “right” they had ever known.
Barry felt helpless.
“Barry?”
Dr. Fletcher’s soothing tone made Barry realize she was watching him with a furrowed brow and concern in her warm gaze.
Barry drew on his grin, shaking his head with a self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry about that, Dr. Fletcher.” He waved his fingers at his head. “Got caught up in the old noggin for a bit.”
Dr. Fletcher smiled in that patient way that said she’d indulge him even if she didn’t believe him.
Barry didn’t bother to hide his sigh as he wondered what to say. He began to play with his gloves, absently scratching at the still raw skin hidden beneath.
The Horde had agreed to let Barry and the others into the light once more, but not before Patricia had ordered Barry to make sure Dr. Fletcher didn’t realize anything had changed.
The command, tossed at him the same way she did with Hedwig and Dennis, made him chafe. It made him itch to rebel just for his pride’s sake. He didn’t know how Dennis could listen to that insufferable woman.
“Why don’t you tell me why Dennis and Patricia have returned the light to you?” Dr. Fletcher prompted, helpful as always.
Barry followed the lines of her lovely floral scarf tied around her elegant neck. It was too easy to imagine Patricia’s hands where the scarf lay.
“We had a chat yesterday,” Barry revealed. He cleared his throat. He’d do as ordered and Patricia would keep her damn hands to herself. “It was why we had to reschedule our appointment. Anyways, the entire group talked, if you can believe it, and it was decided that locking us up wasn’t helping anyone.”
“You spoke to one another?” Dr. Fletcher asked, brows raised but a hint of a smile on her lips.
Barry replied with an embarrassed grin. How long had she been trying to get him to do just that? She’d always believed so much could be fixed with a simple conversation.
“That’s wonderful, Barry,” Dr. Fletcher caught his eye, hers glowing in pride. “The other alters are as much a part of you as you are to them. Its important that you communicate. There’s no reason you can’t at least try to live harmoniously, after all.”
“That’d be the dream,” Barry murmured. Or at least it had been once. Now, they were all agreeing on all the wrong things and Barry was completely out of his depth.
“Would you tell me what you spoke about?” Dr. Fletcher asked.
Mass murder.
“Do you think Kevin might be ready to come back into the light?”
Barry could feel the tension in their room inside his mind. He was certain more than a few curses and insults were being hurled at him, but they should know nothing would come of it. Barry was just curious.
“Have you decided its time to try again?” Dr. Fletcher prodded delicately.
Barry wished he could. He wished he could bring Kevin back. Maybe even before they completely lost their soul.
That wasn’t a possibility, though. Kevin couldn’t handle the light.
“Dennis mentioned there were some volunteer programs you’d thought we’d be good for?” Barry asked instead.
Dr. Fletcher nodded slowly.
“Maybe after we do a little good then, we can try bringing Kevin back?” Barry shrugged.
Dr. Fletcher smiled, warm and full of affection. Her smile was one of the reason’s Barry adored Dr. Fletcher. She wasn’t just a wonderful doctor, she showed them a hint of everything they’d been deprived of their entire lives in her smile. She was a source of hope that someday, someone might fill in that emptiness in their lives.
Barry refused to think of the girl they’d abandoned in the woods, the one a growing number in their group believed might be their missing piece.
“We can definitely try bringing Kevin back when you’re ready.” Dr. Fletcher continued. “There’s even a few things you could try that’ll start to wake him. Not completely. Just enough so that its not quite as big a shock when he returns.”
Hope bloomed in his chest. Maybe if he stayed by Kevin’s side, he could bring him back and it wouldn’t be too much. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them. “What sort of things can I try?”
Casey caught the sweet taste of flowing water teasing between the rocks and trees before she or her rabbit even heard the river.
She licked her lips in anticipation. She heard her rabbit pause a few feet away.
Casey closed her eyes and willed her senses a bit further, focusing on the water and nothing else.
She might not know what she was, but she knew she could do this. This should be easy. She’d done more with less thought for most of her life.
Casey was positive she could find the river.
She hoped this wasn’t all just in her head.
The taste of the river sang to her, slipping comfortably in her veins. She exhaled and let her body relax, only the river remaining inside her. Casey let it guide her forward. It led her down an unfettered path, her steps steady and certain.
The rabbit skirted her side, winding down a different trail with a swivel of its ears. Casey whispered a farewell as she released its scent.
The sound of water crashing against stone made her pulse race and her body still. Casey opened her eyes and grinned at the sight before her.
She’d reached the river.
A laugh tumbled out from deep within her belly, so full of exhilaration and freedom she wasn’t even sure it belonged to her. She didn’t care. She’d made it on her own. That was all that mattered.
Casey had reached the river.
The scent of gunpowder dimmed her joy as it tickled her nose.
A bang echoed through the woods.
Birds screeched as they abandoned their nests. Chaos erupted between fallen leaves as desperate bodies sought sanctuary. Prideful laughter flowed down the river.
Blood stained the air.
Casey turned in the direction she knew she’d find the hunters. Another smile tilted her lips.
Ansel had been right, humans followed their prey.
“Casey, my name is Detective Anders. Do you know where the other two girls, Claire Benoit and Marcia James are?”
“You haven’t found them?”
“So far you’re the first one we’ve found, Casey.”
“Bu-but Marcia and Claire ran when I did. They shouldn’t gotten a lot further. Are you sure you haven’t found them? Oh god, you don’t think he found them again, do you?”
“Who?”
“The guy! That-that big guy.”
“Is he the one that took you the first time?”
“Yeah.”
“Could you describe him for me?”
“I- I don’t know. He wore a lot of clothes. Layers and layers. It was really hard to tell if he was skinny or bulky or what but he was tall. Really, really tall.”
“Do you remember anything about his face?”
“Not really. He wore this weird ski mask over most of his face so all I saw were his eyes.”
“Can you describe them for me?”
“They were dark, almost black. They looked soulless… Detective, what about Marcia and Claire?”
“We already have every available person combing through those woods right now, Casey. We’re doing everything we can to bring your friends home. Can you tell me anything about where you were kept?”
“It was in some basement or something. The walls felt like it was underground.”
“Do you remember anything from when you were taken?”
“Not much. The last thing I remember was putting on my seatbelt and then getting sprayed in the face with something. Then I just woke up in that room with Marcia and Claire right there.”
“Did the man… hurt you, Casey? You or any of the other girls?”
“No. He didn’t touch us. He just kinda stared. It really scared Marcia.”
“How did you manage to escape?”
“It was Claire’s idea. Sh-she thought he should all attack, at once. Then run for it.”
“And you split up?”
“Yeah. She said that as long as one of us got away, we’d be able to get help… Claire and Marcia might just be lost, you know? They both took off in opposite directions. They’re probably out ther-“
“We’re looking everywhere for them. I promise we won’t leave a single stone unturned, Casey. Do you remember in what direction you ran? Was the sun in front of you or behind you? Or maybe anything that looked a little different? A tree or a funny boulder or something?”
“I-I…”
“You’re safe here, Casey. I promise.”
“I fell. It was night and I don’t know for how long I was running but I fell, and I think I hit my head because the next I realized it was already daylight. I kept running but I don’t know how much time passed and my vision was blurry and- and-“
“It’s alright, Casey. You’re safe. It’s ok.”
“But Marcia and Claire-“
“You gave us a place to start, Casey. You gave us a great place to start, now let us worry about Marcia and Claire, ok?”
“Ok.”
“Casey… There’s something else I need to tell you. I know this certainly isn’t the right time, but…”
“What?”
“It’s… about your uncle.”
“Is he here?”
“No, Casey. He’s not coming.”
“Did the truck break down again?”
“It seems that your uncle was scared he’d lost you and since you were his only remaining family…”
“Were?”
“I’m afraid your uncle passed late last night, Casey.”
“He-wh-I don’t- he’s dead?”
“I’m sorry, Casey.”
Before meeting The Beast, Casey had never been to the zoo.
Her father had never been a big fan saying he preferred watching the animals in nature rather than seeing them locked behind iron cages. John had never liked taking her out and he was always a staunch refuser of signing any form of permission slip where she’d be away from him.
Casey had never understood her father’s reluctance when it came to the zoo, however. She understood, in theory, that locking a creature in a cage was cruel, but that wasn’t the reason zoos existed. They gave homes to a surprising number of displaced creatures. There were rescues, slowly being healed and rehabilitated before they’d be released. There were endangered animals being protected, while others were simply stopping on their way to a new home. True, some did end up becoming too institutionalized to be able to survive in the wild on their own, but they were taken care of at the zoo.
Casey could smell it in the air. Playfulness and contentment and a low thrum of that energy that she had learned simply meant life.
The zoo wasn’t ideal or in any way perfect, but she could tell people here cared for the animals, and that they were doing everything they could to give them the best lives possible.
Casey knew Hedwig adored animals and wondered how many of the others felt the same appeal.
She spotted them sweeping in front of the bear habitat, gray fingerless gloves gripping the green broom handle as they absently moved it along the ground. There were too many people between them but Casey was relatively certain she didn’t know whoever held the light.
Casey walked over and leaned against the railing of the brown bears’ enclosure.
It was early morning and the zoo had been opened for less than an hour so there was a certain freshness to the crowd. It radiated with anticipation and the sweet taste of cotton candy. Children laughed and adults talked, and the sun was still new enough that the smiles hadn’t yet become strained or tinged in exhaustion.
Casey relaxed and studied the bears.
A large furry head swung lazily her way in a smooth rolling motion, completely ignoring the second bear that lay on its back, paws playfully swiping at the distracted snout.
Casey stared back at the beady brown eyes and concentrated. She caught the slight tensing of muscles and focusing of attention that she’d learned meant she was being appraised. It was an instinctual reaction every creature seemed to express when faced with something new. It wasn’t hostile or welcoming, it was almost a risk-assessment. A moment where the creature could figure out if she were friend or foe or something better kept away from.
Casey kept her breathing even and gaze steady.
The brown bear opened his mouth in a yawn, sharp yellow teeth on display, before turning back to the younger bear.
Accomplishment tugged a smile on Casey’s lips. It had been nearly two months from the day she found the hunters in the woods, and Casey had spent every moment she could practicing.
“Casey!” Oranges and excitement bombarded her as Hedwig hopped to her side. A grin split across his face and his lisp thickened in his enthusiasm. “I knew you’d be back! I told the others you said you’d be back to make me more drawings. Etcetera. And Mr. Heinrich, he told me that your girlfriend will always come back if you give her flowers and I didn’t give you flowers but I did give you a pinwheel and it looked like a flower-“
“Girlfriend?” Casey squeaked, wide-eyed.
“-and I thought it was better because it won’t die like regular flowers.” His eyes widened. “Have you herd Nikki’s new song?” Hedwig began to sway his shoulders to some unknown melody. “I like it when she goes all hard in the middle, breaking out all her sick beats-“
“Mommy, I wanna see the bears!”
Casey’s gaze shot towards the woman shushing her child and pulling him away from the brown bears. She watched as others walked beside them, eyes lingering too long on Hedwig or making a point to avoid him all together. Casey caught confusion, bitter worry, and disgust flowing around them.
“-Jade says she’ll get me the new CD when it comes out!” Hedwig continued, blissfully unaware of his surroundings.
“Hedwig,” Casey snapped. Hedwig blinked at her, mouth still open mid-word. She pushed back her annoyance at the people around her and soothed her tone. This wasn’t his fault. “We can have another dance party with Nikki later, ok?” He grinned again. “But for now, I need you to bring forward one of the adults.”
Hedwig pouted, hurt making the air heavy. “Didn’t you miss me?”
Casey lay her hand on his arm and smiled sincerely. “Of course, I missed you, Hedwig. You’re my friend.”
Hedwig’s cheeks grew rosy and peppermint made his smile shy.
“We just need an adult because you’re still at work and I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Hedwig spun his head around dramatically, finally registering the lingering stares. “Oh.”
Casey watched as his shoulders relaxed, his gaze seemed to lighten, and spiced apples replaced oranges.
He leaned against the railing almost casually. “We didn’t think you’d be back.” His words slipped off his tongue almost carelessly with a new rhythm.
Casey turned back to stare at the bears who had stretched out in the sun. “I told Hedwig I would be.”
Hesitancy was threaded with charred salt and strangled the spiced apple scent.
“John Cooke deserved to die.” Casey told him softly.
She felt his body tense.
Casey met his whirlwind blue gaze stoically.
While Casey had stood in John’s house beside the old worn recliner he spent so much of his time at, the same recliner that still tasted of his death, she had embraced the deep-seated relief she felt knowing he was finally gone and had refused to let shame blemish the feeling.
Casey had abandoned her doubt in the woods.
Casey had sold John’s things, including his truck and his house, and found a new place for herself and had buried the last of her ties with John Cooke’s body.
Her life was finally her own and she she’d already decided what she was going to do with it.
“Every person like him deserve to die.”