Sitting on a shelf, bobbing and swirling and it's ever worse when it isn't looking at her. I've began to hate the damn thing, Eirlys only hated when it would face somewhere else. It became a bit of a nervous tick and she would shift the jar to always stare her when she worked - Sin wouldn't comment on it. Perhaps, he thought it rude. He would stay in one corner, ever patient, and he would watch Eirlys, as Eirlys would watch the jar, and the jar would watch her.
She had grown to miss that room in the last year. That basement, in its decay and rust and blood, she could feel the dry in the grooves of her fingers. Humming to herself as she would rub her thumb to her index and imagine that the dust would fall onto her stained bed sheets. Thirty one years had past of this- the same, Eirlys had seen her parents leave without return, had seen sisters leave without return
and of course, they would die.
In pieces, and Eirlys knew one day she would die, and she would die with her brain in tact.
That's all she would tell Sin, she would die sane. She would die a sister, not a mother- she never wanted kids. Sin was the closest thing she would ever have; she would look at him with hate in her eyes. Gentle in her approach, but never caring, never warm. A mindset of a woman who played god, rubbing blood between her finger tips- she had stopped caring for them decades ago.
Kindly, an eye stared at the collar of her shirt. Not at, but under, and Raisa would never notice, Ridley would never ask, Eirlys was no longer in charge. Perhaps, she never was. Hands gently cutting skin apart, removing capable organs and preserving them for whoever would need them next, and that's all she was. Capable, the basement would be quiet alone for the noise of gore, and she would question which organ she would be in her family.
If Ridley was the mouth, than Raisa would be the eyes. Perhaps Annabelle was the face, the girl in front of the Mortuus hospital, some patients still ask where she went off to. Ridley would tell them, the peacekeeper academy, can you believe it? A girl from twelve, getting to work for the capitol. Can you believe it, Sin?
Annabelle must be in the capitol.
And "can you believe it, they are accepting permits for travel?"
Eirlys hears it now, "Sin, close the curtains for me, please."
Annabelle is in the capitol, we should pay her a visit, Ridley.
If she had not known better, she would say Hyacinth was the heart. It all seemed to fall apart without her; Eirlys thought she who they looked up to, but it was Hyacinth all along. A system without blood flow, that is when Eirlys realized they were never one system. Hyacinth died, the salvageable organs would remain, find new bodies, and the rest would rot.
Raisa had reinnovated the room for her, angrily, it seems. Sin had known all along, and on behalf of Eirlys, kept it a secret until it spread. Eirlys would die sane, as her skin rotted at its seams. So many times before, she had seen it happen, where they would assess an illness and Eirlys would decide when was the point to accept a patient's loss. To kill them peacefully, salvage their organs, to move on;
Eirlys, as she realized, was no capable organ.
Sin was the third to know she was dying, Eirlys was the second, Hyacinth was the first.
Finally, that eye stares at her from beneath the floorboard. A gaze lifted by nothing, Eirlys can feel it- Hyacinth always fucking knew. Maybe, she was watching all along, saw the virus from when it first entered the paper cut on her thumb padding. It could be her sister's fault, and she had cursed the night she had known.
Swore her name, sweat bogged in the cattails of her eyebrows as she realized the pink had swirled black. Simple in its state, panicked in her own; Sin could have removed her hand. They both knew it, wrist strapped to a sickening white table, a boy half her age- "Sin,
do you know where Avery lives?"
Eirlys only refused.
Color bloomed on her body for the first time in three decades, greens and yellows and her right arm shaped down to nothing but a growing carcass. A pale figure in black uniform, she waited for it to latch onto her neck before telling her sisters. Covered in every instance, Sin would know, Hyacinth would watch as she rotted in real time.
Eirlys' siblings, they wouldn't know until an infection would become their sister; it's almost like nothing changed. The waiting room for her death would be occupied by two, and Ridley would check in just enough to remind Eirlys that she wasn't dead yet. A cycle that had begun ten years ago, the second God chose Ansgar over Hyacinth.
One day, she would die, and "you should pay her a visit soon." She says to Sin.
Post by avriel baptiste, 9m [ele] on May 5, 2020 1:00:47 GMT -5
s i n .
"Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go."
Time moved oddly, slipping in and out of place like porcelain bowls in a shallow pool. Sin Mortuus waited for it silently, the end that they both knew was coming and had been for quite some time. Maybe no time at all depending on which side of it one was coming from.
Rain fell against the window panes of the sterile white room that Eirlys was dying in and a cup of tea meant to soothe his mistress sat cooling quietly beside Sin. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time.
His hands were resting on his knees in front of him and he stared straight ahead, eyes on the falling rain and not on the woman dying in the bed beside him, fingers blackened at the tips and black starfields cropping up all over her skin; the doctor of death was dying.
Eirlys was the thing that went bump in the night for Sin for a long time. She'd bought him off his parents eight years ago, an impassive pass over of a few coins to a couple that wouldn't miss him and he'd belonged to her. There'd only been two rules; never talk to her sister and do everything that she told him to or she'd send him back.
He hadn't wanted to go back.
Eirlys had proclaimed to her sisters that he was mute and she'd named him Sin. So it had been eight years since Sin had spoken but he found that he didn't miss the sound of his own voice. He'd been left to himself for so long that for a while, he believed that he was simply a facet of the hospital, a tool to be used. Eirlys hadn't even given him a bed at first, he'd slept under the bench in the workroom below ground with a pile of the treasures he had collected carefully stowed beneath a loose brick.
When she called him, he went no matter the time of day. In the past eight years, Sin had scrubbed blood off brick, carried coolers with organs, gotten rid of bodies and even killed for Eirlys. Anything she'd asked of him, he'd done because sometimes she'd forgotten herself and brushed his hair back gently or given him an extra bit of dinner. She hadn't been awful to Sin but she hadn't been nice either and now she was dying.
He pushed his fingers down against his knees and turned his gaze away from the window to stare at Eirlys instead. She looked wretched, a shell of the woman she'd been only a year before and Sin wondered what he would do next. He didn't know how to be his own person and he wasn't sure if he wanted to belong to himself but there wasn't really anyone left for him after Eirlys.
Sin's adopted siblings had learned to hate him early on, the impassive way he lured people in only to kill them in cold blood was horrific but to Sin it had always meant nothing. He might as well have been just mopping the workroom floor but perhaps that was why they feared him.
He wished he was less of that sometimes, less the boy who stood in the hall and watched people walk by for hours, the boy in the corner who stared instead of spoke. Sin didn't have any regrets, maybe at first he'd cried himself to sleep almost every night and the smell of blood alone had made him throw up but that had been a long time ago and no one had cared to step in.
The bodies started talking to him when he was twelve, small whispers at first that turned into full sentences. A woman, chest opened and body emptied of organs had turned to look at him as he'd gotten ready to drag her body out to the woods near the mines. "Please," she'd said to him, "Boy, take my gold tooth, it is so precious." So Sin had taken a pair of pliers from his toolbox and yanked it out of her mouth. He'd stowed it beneath the loose brick under the bench and then he'd taken her out to the woods and powdered her with lime.
After that, the bodies asked more things of him and sometimes he'd ignore them but usually he'd do as they asked, anything but return them to their families. When he couldn't follow their requests he felt sick about it, like it was all his fault.
It was his fault. Eirlys had never told him where to procure her victims, just to get them. Sin had played god for such a long time that there wasn't any room for the boy he had been anymore. He'd simply become a vessel and even he was afraid of himself. It was easier to just pretend that he wasn't a real person and since he'd always been made to feel like less of one, it was fine.
Who would tell him what to do without Eirlys, he didn't know.
"Sin, close the curtains for me, please."
He stood up and crossed to the window to shut them as if he had only been waiting for his next command like a wind-up soldier. He couldn't remember if he'd had a name before becoming a Mortuus, if his birth mother had even bothered. Maybe Eirlys was the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother.
Maybe that was kind of sad.
Sin walked back over to the chair he'd been sitting in and sat down again, turning his gaze back to his mistress as he did so. Minutes ticked by as she gazed back at him but Sin was certain that she was no longer seeing him. He was certain she was losing it, that she had been for a while because she told him to go and find Avery.
Avery, she'd always run from him which had only hurt him once the first time and then never again. He'd figured it out early what kind of monster he was and he couldn't blame her for it. Sin had only been bought to do the dirty things Eirlys didn't want the people she actually cared about to do, he was only a Mortuus by name. In the end, none of them had come to see her; it was only Sin who sat with her day after day as she died.
He had yet to decide if it was fealty or love that kept him by her side.
It probably didn't matter.
Sin stood and picked up the cup of tea, eyes on the surface of it to make sure that it wouldn't spill. It was slightly green in colour and smelled a little bit like parsnips. He knew that he should have felt something at that moment but Eirlys had spent so long training familiarity and feeling out of him that all he felt was cold and a little bit worn.
Her hair was damp against his hand as he supported the back of her head so that she could drink the Hemlock tea. Sin held the cup to her mouth until there was nothing left inside. There would be nothing left inside of her either, the drug would destroy her organs. It had been her last wish.
He sat back down again to wait.
Time passed slowly, the ticking of the clock in the hallway punctuated by the body wracking coughs beginning to come from Eirlys' body. For a moment, he entertained the idea of speaking, of opening his mouth for the first time in years and saying goodbye to the only person that he could really call his mother. He didn't know what he would say.
She was the woman who had raised him but he didn't know if it was something he should thank her for.
Her death rattle came after fourty minutes, then the room was silent. Sin sat quietly, eyes on Eirlys, still waiting. She didn't move at all for ten minutes but somehow Sin didn't believe that she was really dead. Maybe he'd always thought that the sickness wouldn't take her.
"Sin," her voice rasped out slowly from an unmoving jaw, "Come take my locket, it is so precious to me, just like you."
Sin stood and unclipped the locket she'd worn as long as he'd known her from around her neck. He rubbed the front of it with his thumb, eyes on the gleaming gold. It was still warm from her blackened skin.