Chapter Text
“You're not trying to argue that the principle is an aniformer again, are you?” Hilda drawled in the midst of plaiting her hair into a braid.
Claude paused his speech at the front of the classroom to eye Hilda. He should have realized she was listening, regardless of her usual playful disinterest. That was why they were friends. He said, “First, it's called an animorph. Second.” He paused for dramatic effect that no one gave much attention. “Principal Rhea is absolutely able to transform into an animal. That's not the question here. The real question is -”
A sharp voice interrupted him. “If we can find an actual volunteer job so our club isn't disbanded by the student council.” Lysithea tapped a dry erase marker against the board. “Not about your new conspiracy theories.”
“I was going to get to that,” Claude said with a casual laugh. “That's why we're a hybrid club, you know. After school volunteer by day, supernatural research by night.”
Lysithea groaned. “Leonie, could you please take over. I don't think I can stand much more of this.”
The affectionately nicknamed Garreg Mach High School had a broad range of students on hand. After Claude had transferred in during second year, this was the niche he’d fallen into - the strange batch of kids who had started late, skipped grades, and comfortably dragged their way into the frame of high school.
From across the room, the projector clicked on, the start of another long slide show to follow. Claude looked up to see the slight look of apology on Leonie's face. He gave her a joking shrug that she only responded to with the rise of an eyebrow. Claude edged along the side of the room, glancing past his friends as he did so.
“We've got a few good options we can select this year!” Leonie called out. “We have the usual option for community clean-up at the parks. The student council is also looking for volunteers to help set up events this year. The local children's club can use additional volunteers and...”
Not out of any disrespect to Leonie, everyone in the class outside of Lysithea and Cyril were in their own quiet discussions and thoughts. Claude watched Raphael casually chewing through a protein bar as he peered over Ignatz's shoulder to watch him sketch another drawing. Marianne clearly wanted to focus on the discussion at hand, but was torn between it and the small mountain of assignments sitting next to her. Hilda quietly bickered with Lorenz with a spark of genuine enjoyment in her eye over his frustration. As Claude slid past, she caught his eye with a knowing stare, to which he rolled his eyes. Hilda always caught on when he was observing people and that was why they were friends.
He was friends with Raphael because Raphael was vibrant and kind and the kind of person to never leave you alone once he hung out with you once. He was friends with Leonie because she was hot-headed and easily frustrated and incredibly concerned for the well-being of other people. He was friends with Ignatz because enough jokes about drawing for him and commissioning him turned into genuine kindness. He was friends with Lorenz because every hero needed a villain and the two of them were nothing but regular dumb teenagers. He was friends with Lysithea because she couldn't take a joke, except for when she could, and because no one was able to beat him in chess so easily as her. He was friends with Cyril because he needed an annoyed teen to make him feel old at 17. He was friends with Marianne not because she needed friends, but rather because she was honest and self-aware and because he needed a friend.
Claude was friends with all of them because he needed friends.
As the meeting ended, Lysithea was the one to erase the board of club ideas and conspiracy theories. On the corner of the board, she rolled her eyes before erasing one last note. Edelgard == Frankenstein???
**
Claude was always the last one to leave the club room. Most of them took their time, but Claude ensured he dragged his feet in cleaning up and finishing favors to their benefactor for allowing them to use the room until the last person trying to wait for him lost patience and headed home. Ignatz biked home, Raphael jogged, Leonie drove Lysithea, Marianne, and Cyril home in her jalopy. Lorenz and Hilda both took their parental funded cars home in a stark contrast to their peers.
Claude, for lack of interest in what distant family had to offer, walked.
There were plenty of clubs at the once-illuminous former private school. Now public, a broader range of people were able to attend and that meant Claude could be there without much question of his weird background. It was surprising that a new, broadly first-year, student council had been able to petition for such a change. But from what he understood, its secretary - Hubert Vestra - had pulled off a quiet internal coup to allow several first years to take the majority of its seats. Thus, Edelgard Hresvelg became its president, Ferdinand Aegir its vice president, and Bernadetta Varley its half-unwilling treasurer.
The student council was another reason why Claude’s club was only half supernaturally focused, as apparently to the Hresvelg rule, supernatural concerns were not appropriate endeavours for an esteemed institution as the school they attended. Claude could roll his eyes and joke about the evil control of the student council, but he knew as well as anyone that for its seeming switchblade nature, it had done a lot of good. For how much the other students could complain, the old private school attendees and newer public populace got along surprisingly well and the club scene had exploded in its variety.
Even still, not many people stayed as long as his club did. A few remained on the track field and he knew the theater and choir kids would still likely be piled backstage, but as the sun would begin to set – Claude was left mostly alone on campus. Teachers chose to pack their bags and head home with languor in their step and a quick nod towards him as Claude sat akin to a lizard in the light. He watched people leave on his bench over the top of a book he pretended to read.
The evening was one of Claude's favorite times of day. Not only because binge-watching X-Files had told him the twilight hours were when strange creatures came out to dance. Evening was also when he could see best.
If anyone could choose a power, they'd probably do something like super-strength or the power to fly. Lorenz insisted anything you couldn't do by your own power was pointless, and Hilda insisted increased strength would also strengthen her nails, and Raphael said being able to stretch his arms would mean he could hold more friends at once. Something like what Claude could do was honestly a pretty shitty power, really. Especially for having a monster-hunting dad and a former valkyrie for a mother.
The teachers that left may have been tired, but they were all alive. A quiet light almost emanating from beneath their skin made that clear. Such a light was too faint to be seen in normal hours of day, but like this – with shadows stretching across the school between orange and pink reflection – he could see the life within people. It'd almost be useful if there were any aliens or vampires or monstrous beings otherwise, but he couldn't say for sure since the most he’d ever met was a few ghosts in the back corners of sleeping houses.
He did know Rhea was a little too radiant for a supposedly 45 year old woman, and he did think it was weird that most of her predecessors looked surprisingly like her, but his friends insisted he was being silly. Claude couldn't just point out that the whole “blinding” beauty wasn't about her looks, but rather the fact that she glowed like a neon sign. Really the only person he'd seen that seemed a little suspicious otherwise was a certain student body president.
A curse echoed across the courtyard to catch his attention. Standing in the shadow of the courtyard, dim and gray in the darkness, was a sharp figure. Decked out in the former student uniform, the one from when the school was still private, but garnished with flashes of red and gold along the sleeves. He shook his head. Edelgard was recognizable to a fault. Her knife-like posture had been diminished by the manner she leaned over herself, but he’d eat his book if it weren’t her. Claude clapped his book shut, but she didn't seem to hear. There was plenty he owed her as payback for all the trouble he’d gone through to get his club authorized. No matter how many reports Claude had submitted to her, she didn't seem to consider his club to be a valid gathering until Lysithea and Leonie took up the mantle to save it. In fact, he was relatively sure Edelgard threw his requests in the trash.
But that was why it was fun to mess with her. Good ol' class prez, the girl who never laughs, the most uptight person on campus, so wound up you'd think she'd pop like a balloon. The only person on campus who didn't light up as darkness fell. The silhouette of dull orange-red flickering like a dying light from her core. The last question he had on campus.
So he said, “Hey there class prez.” Leaned around her until he could see her face furrowed over her arm. “You need a hand?”
As she looked up at him, a rare surprise in her eyes, Claude realized what she held in the crook of her arm. Language left him as if the two of them had been sucked into the vacuum of space. Very much disembodied from the rest of her, bloodless and clean, was her hand. A part of him said it was a prop, but just as notable was her right sleeve that fell limp at its end.
Claude tried to swallow his heart before it had the chance to leap out of his throat. He finally said, “Cause it looks like your hands are full.”
Edelgard stared at him as if she didn't hear his unfortunate joke. Her lips moved, soundless, until he made out her quiet whisper.
“-Or later. I have to take care of this, but I can't just let him go. But I'm in no condition to deal with him, and -”
“Hey,” Claude interrupted. “You don't need to deal with me , prez, there's nothing going on and there's nothing you need to worry about.”
Pulling her hand closer beneath her shirt, Edelgard said, “Indeed. But I cannot so easily allow you to walk free if you've seen more than you should.”
“So, what, that means killing me?” Claude laughed. The serious look on her face made him bite his tongue. “Hey. Hey, wait a... Okay. Listen, Edelgard, I get it. I get you being worried, but I haven't screamed or run away wailing about your.” He paused and gestured to her. “ Condition . So you don't need to jump to the extremes. You're supposed to be valedictorian right? You don't want something like my ghost haunting you and ruining your chances, do you?”
“There is no such thing as ghosts,” she muttered.
“Great, I'm glad you've got expert witness testimony on that important fact, but hey. Why kill the person who can give you a little help, right?” For all his bluster, he was scared. Claude was always a little scared, but this was something else. It wasn't like he'd been investigating her all this time for no reason, but it was like a joke. Like something that should have been impossible. Just like him. “Your arm hand car door problem?” She didn't catch his reference. Of course she wouldn't. “I can help. Just give me a chance.”
Her eyes narrowed. Cautious, she uncoiled herself and stood to full height. “You expect me to trust you?”
“No,” Claude said. “I expect you to have enough common sense to take a hand when.” He stopped himself. “I'm trying to make a point, not put my foot in my mouth. Come on, Edelgard. You aren't stupid.”
At that, she held out her hand. The hand in her hand, he corrected himself. Claude took it as if it would fall to ash, and found it to be just as weighty as his own hand, if a little cool. Edelgard pulled her school bag around and took a small clasped container from the side. From it came a needle and a spool of off-white thread.
“Tape doesn't work anymore,” she said as if it were a matter of fact. “Glue makes it impossible to move properly. If it were much else, I could handle it. But I can't thread a needle or tie something off well with one hand.” Edelgard paused. “I don't mind walking off campus with my hand in my bag and driving home. There's nothing stopping me from doing that, Claude.”
As if she were making a threat.
“Relax, prez,” he answered, falling back into his easy placid smile. It didn't do much to dispel the mix of gut-churning shock and elation at being right about something for once, but Edelgard seemed to accept it. “I'm offering a bit of help out of the deep well of kindness in my heart. And hey, once your hand is fixed? In my eyes, this never happened.”
“Fine.” Edelgard rolled up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal the stump of her arm. “I hope you are as good at sewing as you are talking.”
The skin was not healed over the stump, like some amputations he had seen in the past. Nor was there bone sticking out with veins ready to flow free with blood. Instead, there was nothing inside. As if Edelgard was made of air and darkness instead of flesh and bone, a strange darkness by which no light was able to break through. Old lines remained at the edge of her arm, pinprick scars of what he assumed were past indentions of her seamed nature. She shifted and he realized his curiosity would do him no good. Instead, he held her hand under his chin just long enough to thread the needle. Edelgard looked away, but held her arm up straight. For someone who seemed so sure of what needed to be done, he found it strange that she was not willing to watch.
“Any preference,” he asked as he fumbled with the placement of her hand. If he sewed it on wrong, that would probably be the end of his life, and probably justified. “For. Whatever.”
“Whatever you can manage,” Edelgard said.
Hiding the shake of his hands was no longer so easy. Regardless, Claude forced himself to breathe and stabbed the needle into her skin. There was no jolt of pain from Edelgard. Rather, she seemed ambivalent to the sensation. It was hard to make even rows of thread and Claude was terribly cognizant of the way he kept pulling the needle too high or too low, each time having to pull another attempt through. The only good thing – or perhaps the worst thing – was the fact that unlike when he held her hand, sewing through it was nothing like pushing through skin or muscle. For the evident weight of her hand and arm, there was none of the resistance there should have been to a needle. Where her skin was a mix of smooth space and rough calluses, to the needle, it may as well have been silk. As he looped the thread through, again and again, her hand seemed to almost fight against the way it fit against her arm, but it could not fight the hold of silver thread.
If he weren't so glad to be justified, Claude probably would have fallen over on the spot.
Though it took only minutes to finish his rough stitching, it still seemed to have taken years off his life. Edelgard looked at his work and took a moment to flex her fingers. They were stiff at first, as if refusing to follow her command, but quickly moved as if nothing had happened. She pulled a glove over her hand.
“Good enough,” she said.
“I'd say so considering I could have sewed it on backwards,” Claude grumbled, feigning insult.
Edelgard moved to walk away, but Claude put a hand on her shoulder before she could move. Funnily enough, that made her jolt, though she attempted to mask it.
“Before you go-” he started.
She interrupted. “I'm not telling you anything else, Riegan.”
“No, I was wondering what you think about Principal Rhea being an animorph. Is it too kiddy or do you think there's a better term for it.”
Edelgard's serious expression faded to something of squinted confusion before she shook her head and walked into the sunset alone. Claude saw light return to her form, however slight, and took his own leave.
**
Claude's uncle didn't greet him upon his return home. He didn't complain about Claude taking an hour to open every cupboard when cooking dinner, either. That was what kept their relationship stable, he supposed. When Claude walked out in the morning, his uncle's car was already gone as usual. Another car sat running at the end of the walkway, one a bit higher class than even his neighborhood would usually drive. Claude paused on the porch and waited for the car to move. Its windows were too dark to see who could have been inside. In the back of his mind, Claude thought about crime dramas and the usual crime boss Mercedes Benz. He took the warning and cut across the grass instead.
Matching his pace, the car began to roll down the road, gravel crunching under its tires. Claude kept his walk as casual as he could, stopping at flowers in neighbor's yards to enjoy the scenery. The car paused with him and took its time to follow until Claude gave up the ghost. He walked directly at the car and stood at its door. The window rolled down. Inside, a familiar face stared at him.
Edelgard said, “Get in.”
Claude flicked his nose and chuckled before obliging.
The inside of her car was as lavish and untouched as the outside. Leather seats, perfectly steamed flooring, and a dozen bright lights at the center console for every kind of tech there was.
“Wouldn't expect anything less,” he muttered under his breath.
“I'd expect you would be driving the same kind of vehicle considering who your uncle is,” Edelgard said. Claude stretched as though he'd said nothing. “Fine. That's not what I've come to discuss with you today.”
“Here I thought you were just repaying me with a school carpool,” Claude laughed.
“I came to discuss an agreement with you,” she answered, soundly ignoring him. “Per our meeting yesterday.”
“Ah, right. The animorph discussion.”
When Edelgard rolled to a stop at a sign, she turned to give him another baffled look.
“Do you not know what animorphs are,” Claude asked, slow and concerned. Edelgard stammered for a moment before Claude interrupted. “Okay, so Animorphs is this really long book series about the futility of war and dehumanization and this constant moral struggle, and also about kids who turn into animals. It’s pretty great. Anyway, they can only turn into animals for up to two hours before they’re trapped forever in those bodies and have to fight against the animalistic urge of Dog Brain and the like, so I don’t know if that’s what Rhea has to deal with or if she’s ever fought the Yeerks, but -”
“I am aware,” Edelgard muttered, “What. Animorphs are.”
“What?” Claude hovered closer, peering at her stony face. “If you’re a true fan, then how about you name three of K.A. Applegate’s top albums.”
“I appreciated stories about experimentation and futility,” she muttered. “I quite liked Tobias, if you’re about to ask any other questions, but that’s not the discussion at hand. So please stop attempting to change the subject.” Edelgard shook her head, as if attempting to clear her mind. “You aren't to mention anything about me to anyone. I realize you may have understood yesterday, so I should not have to explain the unpleasant fate that awaits you if you are to inform anyone of my secret.”
“What secret.”
“You know well what secret I am referring to,” said Edelgard.
“Do you mean the one about Ferdinand using your cravat behind your back? I hadn't thought you'd found out about that.”
“He what ?” Edelgard started to shout, but quickly pulled herself together. “No, I am referring to the concern about my arm falling off!”
“What!” Claude exclaimed in the best look of surprise he could manage. “You should really get that looked at then, prez, I can't say that's healthy.”
Though Edelgard groaned, he could tell some deep part of her that she refused to acknowledge enjoyed the absurdity of their conversation. “All I require from you is a simple agreement.”
“Fine,” he said. Easy and quick.
Edelgard was quiet, but when he moved to joke again, she asked, “Are you not going to argue?”
“Why would I,” said Claude. His head bumped against the window and he watched Edelgard's reflection in the glass. “It's my life on the line after all.”
“You know everyone on campus,” she answered. The car slowed as it began to pull into the school parking lot, stuck behind the mass of cars arriving. “If anyone could inadvertently let this information out, it would be you.”
At that, he scoffed. “Well, believe it or not, prez? We've all got secrets. I get the necessity of keeping them because I have a few of my own too.”
In the reflection, he watched Edelgard startle at his words. Before she could ask anything more of him, Claude took advantage of the pause and hopped out of the car. The school day was, for better or worse, normal. After their early discussion, Edelgard had not gone out of her way to track him down and even in their shared classes, she didn't acknowledge him. Which he preferred. Hilda was able to hone in on gossip like no one else and if anyone could accidentally be complicit in his untimely death via secret exposure, it would be her.
After school, Claude found Hilda leaning against the last pillar before the parking lot, scrolling through her phone. He waved and said, “Unusual to see you not rushing home on a Friday.”
She sighed dramatically and shrugged at him. “Unfortunately, some things can't wait for the next club meeting.” Hilda waltzed over and around him to lean on his arm. “You know, you've got people asking after you.”
“Oh really,” said Claude. “You're so surprised that I'm that popular now?”
“I just think it's pretty weird to see the student council talking about it,” she hummed. “I know you're a troublemaker and all, but usually you don't get them riled up.”
“Well, you haven't heard that I'm planning on starting my own student council with a new advocacy based on dissolving the private school hierarchy to improve our school lunches and dismantle the current state of power imbalance caused by wealth disparity,” Claude said.
“I figured,” Hilda said. At that, she stood before him, an unfortunate focus on her face. “I just don't get why Edelgard would be wasting any time asking questions about you.”
“Oh?” he said more than asking. It shouldn't have felt as much like a victory as it did to hear that. “What's she been asking about.”
Hilda raised an eyebrow. “Less her and more her bird squad. Dorothea was kind enough to talk to Petra about it, who talked to Cyril about it, who talked to Lysithea about it, who talked to Edelgard about it. Edelgard apparently jumped high enough that she's already getting recruitment requests from the volleyball team, but anyway .” Hilda paused to take a deep breath. “Apparently, Lysithea asked Edelgard about why she's looking for Lysithea's friend's weakness, or something.”
“Wow,” said Claude. “I'm impressed, Hilda. That made even less sense than usual.”
“Thank you,” she answered with a flutter of her eyelashes. “It's quite the bit of gossip, but I think the juicier question is why Edelgard would be looking for Claude Secrets in the first place.”
“I'm just the newest target of the Hresvelg smear campaigns, nothing more.”
“That and,” Hilda gave a shrug. “The fact that you arrived on campus in a Mercedes Benz this morning.” When Claude's smile faded into a look of dead defeat, she went on. “Hey, it's not my fault. Lorenz would never miss who's jumping out of red carpet vehicles.”
“My uncle hired a luxury transport for me this morning since I woke up late,” he lied.
“Sure,” she answered, sweet and bitter as a honey trap. “Did he do that for you after he got you a Switch? Or when he took the whole class out for all we can eat sushi. That was my favorite part! And he let me order all the extra ikura I wanted. That’s why he’s the neighborhood favorite uncle that everyone goes to with their troubles.”
At that, however, Hilda's phone began to blare ' Look What You Made Me Do ' with tinny severity. She cursed under her breath.
“Saved by the bell,” she said with a sigh.
“Gonna miss an episode of Riverdale?” he asked.
“No,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “My brother has some big promotion ceremony coming up and he can't bear to go through it without his darling sister.”
“So, when's it start?”
“Now,” she sighed.
With a wave, she was gone, and Claude finally let himself breathe. With the level of apathy Hilda had, she'd forget about this rumor mill by next week. With her gone, he took his usual vigil as pseudo-school guardian as people packed into buses and emptied the parking lot. His friends waved as they passed – Marianne taking her father's escort vehicle home on days she didn't have a club, Lysithea and Cyril taking the bus, and others by their usual transport. As usual, Cyril argued with Claude's joking insistence that he take another language class.
“What, and pick up Farsi like you?” Cyril rolled his eyes. “I know that big money kids like you get to travel, but even a special school like this only has French and Spanish.”
“I’ve got a few books on the side,” Claude said, nudging him with an elbow. “It doesn’t cost anything to look, right?”
“Because you want a language partner or because you’ve got some insidious plot up your sleeve?” Cyril drawled. “If I’m gonna be useful with a language, I’d rather go with Spanish. I know way more people who use that.”
Lysithea dragged Cyril onto the bus before it could leave without them, interrupting the fake argument and leaving Claude on his own for the daily people watching. When the sun began to set again, he tracked the light in people through buildings and cars until one by one, each left campus and left it bereft of life. Until little remained but a dim spark, almost blue in the resolute shadow that swallowed the campus.
Edelgard took the back entrance out of the school. He didn't expect it, but even at a distance, he could recognize her walking across the track field and then to the parking lot to her distinctive car in the back. He figured she wouldn't see him, considering her track record of forgoing glasses most people could tell she needed. Claude almost laughed at the way she tried to avoid the seeming distaste of running, power walking with such wide strides that it would have been better to jog instead. Despite promising he wouldn't spread her secret – Claude couldn't help but be curious about why a half-dead person would be trying to run a student body in the first place. It wasn't like being a corpse would be conducive to management or scholastics.
Investigating a little further didn't mean he was breaking the rules, after all.
As Edelgard reached her car, a new vehicle pulled close. An Escalade, just as expensive as Edelgard's vehicle with pitch black tinted windows. Out of the car stepped a person in a black suit. Claude saw Edelgard stop so quickly she could have tripped. The new person – considerably taller than Edelgard, so maybe distant family Claude reasoned – seemed to talk and regard Edelgard like a child. For Edelgard's part, she stood proud as she ever did. Just a regular argument between family that didn't care for each other. Reasonable, considering most of the people he knew.
The shadow of the trees on the horizon began to grow with the setting sun. Claude watched it bathe the two in darkness, the way Edelgard glowed with a strange blue, and – when he looked to her visitor, Claude felt a shiver run down his spine.
Everyone Claude had met was alive. Even Edelgard, who was alive in degrees that went against what he knew. But the person in the suit – there was no light and no life. Growing up, his father had held terrible creatures over his head as if they’d crawl through the window to eat him. Creatures that could transform into animals and cannibals, ready to eat him for being so naughty as to stay up reading after his bed time. Terrible ghouls who pretended to be beautiful women and kind men to trick curious children into following them. Those were the casual stories his father and mother told him, and as he grew up he came to realize those stories paled in comparison to the actual things they fought each day. But in Claude’s life. Even being someone who could point across a city when he saw something unusual. The man standing across from Edelgard was the only thing he had ever seen that he could call a true ghoul. In a moment, the book was out of Claude's hands and he realized he was running. Forcing himself to a jog, Claude couldn't formulate any plan better than -
“Hey!” he called out, holding the note as long as he could. Both Edelgard and the suit turned to look, so Claude began to wave like an idiot. “ Miss President! ”
Edelgard seemed to sputter some kind of question, but Claude couldn't hear it over his labored anxious breathing.
“Who is this?”
“No one, uncle,” Edelgard spat. “He is a student at the school.”
Claude glanced at Uncle Suit. His face was as sharp as Edelgard's, so he could understand the resemblance on that level. However, his hair was pitch-black and he had a menacing beard to match his overall vibe.
“Yep,” Claude said brightly, trying as hard as he could to emulate Raphael and Hilda. “Casual school nice boy. Miss President has been so nice and said she'd help me get home even though I had to miss the bus to take a make-up exam.” He sidled closer to her and waved an arm around Edelgard without touching her. “But we don't have much time, because my parents are super strict!” Claude gave her a nudge. “Right, Miss President?””
The dumb-founded look on her face made another fact obvious. Edelgard was a bad actor. Claude brushed it off as another fact to add to the accidental catalog he was forming in his head.
“Is that so, Edelgard?” Uncle Suit said.
The mocking tone in his voice seemed to pull Edelgard back to herself and she answered, “Is it so hard to believe that I would be concerned about my peers, Uncle?”
He chuckled, but it made him step away and back into his oversized vehicle. “We'll have our talk later then.”
The two of them stood in silence as her uncle drove away, as if it were a spell that would break if they stepped out of the boundary. Claude's knees almost buckled as the car turned the corner, but Edelgard's grip on his sleeve forced him to stay upright.
“Don't tell me you actually need a ride home,” she muttered.
“It'd be helpful,” he answered. “After a near-death experience.”
In the car, rather than starting, Edelgard stared at the steering wheel. “A near-death experience? How so.”
“Someone like that,” Claude started, but stopped himself. She wouldn't believe him. “He just has the vibe of a jerk. Y'know how it is.”
If Claude had the choice, he'd turn on the Top 40 radio and veg out the way he did in Hilda's car. Edelgard's car had more buttons than he knew what to start with so he had no choice but to wither in silence.
As she drove, Edelgard finally started up the conversation again. “My uncle is just a strange man. He travels often. He was in town for a moment so he chose to visit me before I left campus.”
“Fancy man,” Claude murmured. “Real nice of him to visit.”
“He's my only surviving relative, so I suppose.” Her following silence was enough for Claude to fill in the blanks. “I am housed by him and my father’s old business partners. I am … not close to them. But I understand it is better than being homeless.”
“I'd say so if they're funding joy rides like this,” Claude chuckled.
“Indeed,” she said.
The cold in her voice made it clear it was time for him to shut up. The path she took back to his house was roundabout and Claude could swear it was because she didn't actually know where she was going. But she wouldn't ask him for directions and now it was too late for him to figure out which route she was trying to take. Claude closed his eyes and meandered through new club topics in the back of his mind.
“Riegan,” said Edelgard. He removed himself from practiced reverie and glanced toward her. Her eyes were wide, brow furrowed in something like - fear? Claude traced her line of sight to the windshield and the road ahead. “What is that.”
Before them was what could have once been a dog. He was relatively sure it wasn’t an insect, despite its six legs, considering the way it loomed before them as large as Edelgard’s car. With it came the same stench of death that Edelgard’s uncle had carried. Here, though, it was far more menacing as it carried its otherworldliness with a dangerous aura. Its canines stretched a foot long, dripping with something the color of rust, and despite the fact that it had no eyes - Claude was quite sure it was staring right at them.
“Weird cow,” he said before glancing out behind them. “Maybe we should just go back the way we came.” The car revved, drawing his attention back to Edelgard and the determined glare she wore. “Prez, what are you -”
Before he could finish his sentence, Claude bounced back against his seat as Edelgard slammed on the gas. The monster before them didn’t have a chance to react. Its body smashed against her windshield and flew overhead. The glass cracked, but it held. But where Claude expected the car to keep rushing down the street, he found himself jerked forward, only held back from the dashboard by his seatbelt. Edelgard braked hard and slammed the car into reverse.
“Edelgard, I don’t think this is a great idea!” he yelled with some kind of laughter in his voice, giddy horror making his hands numb as he clung to the seat.
“I believe it is,” she answered.
With that, her foot slammed on the gas again. The vehicle sped back and half-ramped over the monster’s body, landing so hard Claude expected the tires to pop. But as they rolled to a pause, Edelgard ran over it one more time - this time slow and methodical. Its body gave under the weight and she nodded.
As they pulled away down the road, Claude considered whether his heart had beaten out of his chest or not. Examining the area, it seemed whole as it had before, but with what he had seen - he couldn’t say he was sure anymore. Glancing to Edelgard, he said, “Didn’t think you were the monster movie type.”
“Hm?” she asked. For how tight she held her lips together, one could think she wasn’t scared. Almost.
“Most movies people just hit the monster once,” he said, having to pause for breath between words. “This one movie, uh. Jeepers Creepers. It’s not good, but it’s got this scene. The sister hits the monster. Then backs up over it.” He nodded, going down internal roads of fond memories and easy falsehoods. “I always thought it was pretty funny.”
“It’s the logical action,” Edelgard explained. “It was quite sturdy. If I had simply driven away, it likely would have followed us down the road while we were defenseless to stop it.”
“That’s why you’re the class president, I guess,” he muttered. “For someone who didn’t know what that was, you sure know how to handle monster movies.”
“I…” She paused. “Indeed.”
A growl behind the car made the two of them turn around. While the windshield had been fractured by the beast’s impact, the back window was still solid. It meant they could see the ghoul in the street, meshing and melting as it drew itself off the harsh asphalt into solid form again.
“We need to go,” Claude started, but Edelgard had already set the car moving. He reached down to the glovebox and started rustling through it. “Do you have anything useful in here?” Registration forms and unused car information booklets took up most of the space. “What’s the point of having a car this expensive if you don’t keep salt or silver or anything in secret compartments!”
“I fail to see why those would be useful!” Edelgard yelled over the sound of her engine, already beginning to stutter from the damage it had taken with the monster’s weight.
“For this!” As he answered, his voice turned into a yelp as Edelgard jerked the car out of the monster’s jumping path. “It’s not like I expected you to have a sword. Do you have a better plan?”
“We drive,” she answered. “If I cannot kill it, I simply have to escape it.”
“And if you run out of gas?” asked Claude. “Or if it runs off to kill someone else instead. Or if it comes back after you think you’ve escaped?”
“Then I’ll deal with it later,” she spat. Taking a moment to compose herself, Edelgard rephrased, “The most important thing is surviving right now. The rest can come later.”
“Nah,” Claude said. “We can do it now.” The one nice thing about the area they lived in was half-decent cell reception. As he pulled up the closest river, he said, “I don’t think this is a ghoul, but hitting it twice may still have been a mistake on our parts. So if it won’t die from that much, we’ll just take the easy route.”
“And what is the easy route supposed to be,” Edelgard asked, an edge of weary frustration cutting her words.
“So, prez, lesson number one in monster fighting. When in doubt, take running water.” He pointed across a field. “Just cut across this and we’ll be homefree.”
“I cannot drive my uncle’s car across grass! I don’t have the correct tires for all-terrain driving.”
“Yeah, and they probably aren’t the right tires for hitting a giant insect dog either, but I think we’ve already passed that event horizon. So you can’t tell me you’re troubled by giving your uncle problems after this day.” The dog leapt forward with a bite and Edelgard managed to avoid it by a hair - leaving the side mirror to be crushed by its pincer teeth. “So can we please take a dip? Preferably before we hit major traffic up ahead.”
A harsh sigh was her answer as Edelgard swerved into the grass, car slipping along the freshly sprinkled terf. The tires tore up messy lines across the perfectly manicured field, but that was nothing compared to the gashes the monster left behind. A small town river ran through the empty field, a prelude to more construction. The water was cut deep into the ground, two sharp stone ledges on either side of its quiet stride. Claude rolled down his window and began to draw himself out. Edelgard grabbed his leg.
“What are you doing?” she yelled.
“Getting ready to distract it,” he answered. “You didn’t think I expected you to drive the entire car into the river, did you?”
Edelgard opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it just as quickly. As he turned to face the creature, he heard her yell, “How do you plan to distract it?”
He sat on the edge of the window, clinging to the inside of the car with one hand. In his other hand was one of the thick miserable car manuals. Giving a quiet internal prayer, he withdrew his hand from the last bit of safety he had and pulled a lighter from his pocket. It wasn’t really following the rules, but the other big rule his parents taught him was to keep something that could make fire. Be it for lighting a candle or warding something off, a small flame was better than nothing. As he began to attempt to light the book, he found himself wishing he had a bigger flame. The plastic-like material of the book’s outer cover smoldered and melted instead of properly catching. It caught along the middle as he opened the book, right to a page about replacing headlights. The car jerked and he dropped the lighter to cling to the car again. If he held the book, it would be okay. That’s what he told himself.
Fire didn’t necessarily draw all things. But this creature whipped its head around like the heat of fire was all it could see. Almost as if its lack of eyes were for this alone, to follow the greatest flame it could. The thought of Claude’s own ability crossed his mind, but it was a fleeting thought as the monster leapt forward once again. The car swerved to dodge and the book flew out of his hand, Claude himself only remaining attached to the car by Edelgard’s powerful grip on his legs.
The book flew close to where he had wanted, but not quite far enough. It landed in the grass on the ledge to the river, instead. The beast came upon it with all its weight and the small fire died in the midst of the carnage. It nudged through the dirt for the remains of heat. The car spun to a terrifying halt and he pressed his face into the top of the car. His entire body hurt. His legs felt like they were half pulled out of joint. But he figured it was better than being a pancake on the ground.
“Welp,” said Claude. “I’m out of plans.”
“I’m not,” Edelgard said.
She pushed him out of the car and he fell with an unceremonious thump. Before he could drag himself upright onto unsteady feet, the vehicle had already begun moving. It barreled into the monster. There was no resistance against the weight of the car, this time. This time, the creature fell back helplessly. Claude was already running to catch it, but he didn’t have speed or legs on his side. Edelgard was moving too fast to stop. Though the creature fell into the water, the car went with it. Her door opened before it could fully run over the edge and he saw her try to dive out. Its momentum kept her moving toward the water, rolling helplessly. By the time Claude made it to the ledge, she had already disappeared over the edge. Though the small river was shallow - it was more like a stream, he thought on active inspection - the beast was nowhere to be seen in the aftermath. Edelgard’s car was left, tip down in the water, and smashed beyond simple repair, but she was not to be seen with it.
“If you could help,” she yelled. “It would be appreciated.”
He turned and looked further down. Hanging onto the ledge, her legs dancing along its steep slope, was Edelgard. Claude used what little strength he had left to pull her up. His shoulders strained miserably against her weight and he wondered how long he’d be sore for. Edelgard dug her fingers into the dirt before she had fully made it up, as if he would have dropped her. As if clinging to anything.
“That was,” Claude tried to say, but he stopped from lack of breath. “That was definitely a decision.”
“Someone had to do it,” she muttered, laying face first in the grass.
“You that scared of water?” he asked, starting to laugh before the look on her face made him stop cold. A part of him wanted to apologize, for the shaking fear in her eyes, the quiver of her lips, but he said nothing of it. Instead, he said, “At least you made it out in one piece.”
“Indeed,” she muttered.
But as Claude tracked his eyes over her, as if he actually did have to take inventory of fingers and toes, he paused. “Hey, prez.”
“What.”
“How many feet do you usually have?”
“Riegan,” she muttered. At that, Edelgard rolled over onto her back and pulled herself upright. Though her legs were still fully attached, there was a slump at the bottom of one of her leggings. It hadn’t occurred to Claude that she wasn’t wearing full stockings until now, as only one foot remained. “Damn it.”
“Ooo, language prez. Principal Rhea wouldn’t like that.”
“I do not care what Rhea likes.” She tried to stand up, resembling a flamingo. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to find my foot. And my shoe. Hubert gave these to me and I do not intend to lose one so easily.”
“Look, I didn’t see it floating on the water, so it probably floated down to the end. If we just make our way, we’ll find it! But I don’t think you’re in any condition to walk there,” said Claude. Neither was he, really, but who was he to tell someone to leave their foot behind to be stolen by giant night crows.
Before he finished speaking, Edelgard was on her phone. “I need a rental and a tow truck at this location. Make sure the rental has all-terrain tires. Charge it to his card.” In an instant it was closed.
Hardly ten minutes later, two vehicles had pulled up. One was the aforementioned tow truck, already setting up to pull the remains of what was once Edelgard’s car out of the ditch. The other was a near-perfect replica of the car she had just driven into a ditch, only this one was a shade darker. Somehow.
“Get in,” she said.
Considering his aching body, Claude found he couldn’t quite say no. The one good thing about parents like his was that he did heal pretty quick, but the time leading up to that was still a miserable experience. And healing quickly didn’t always do much about the soreness afterward. Edelgard was right about the tires, if nothing else. It made the drive less slippery, and by that note, less terrifying. She followed the stream to its end, where thick iron bars blocked an entrance underground. There her foot floated and bumped against the various sticks and smaller objects that pushed past it into the depths below. The two of them got out of the car and measured the distance.
“Your new car doesn’t have any rope, does it?” asked Claude.
After quiet deliberation, Claude finally drew the short stick and climbed down into the ditch. Edelgard wasn’t completely unreasonable, considering her note of her height (actually his comment) and her extra lack of foot (actually her comment). In his eyes, lacking an entire foot honestly meant she was technically shorter in the long run, since she apparently didn’t use the metric system, but apparently that comment wasn’t worth her time or response.
Given another hour of desperately trying to find a way to climb out of the given hole, culminating by Edelgard making another call to her mysterious phone people to bring the tow truck back for a person-sized situation, the two of them finally made their way back to his home in silence. The rental car rolled to a halt at the end of his driveway, but as he attempted to open the door, he found it locked.
“Before I can allow you to leave. I have a question for you,” said Edelgard.
It was inevitable. The monster issue. His readiness, his expectations, playing a game and giving away too much. His fingers twisted together. “I figured.”
“...I admit there are many I could ask, but. I feel it is fair to only ask one,” she started. “I spent the drive back here trying to choose, but there is one thing that has been troubling me this entire time.” She paused before asking, “Why did you panic?”
He relaxed. That question was nothing. “Well,we were attacked by a giant monster. I think most people would panic.”
Her mouth twisted into a note of frustration. “I am talking about before. No, I apologize. I should be clearer if it is you I am asking.” Edelgard said it like she had compiled her own list of reciprocal Claude facts. It would be funny if it didn’t make him so nauseous. “No matter who I've seen you speak to at this school. You have not panicked. So why then?” She turned to look at him, hair falling in her eyes. “What's different about my uncle, Riegan.”
For a moment, Claude wondered if this sick feeling in his gut was how his dad felt when he encountered monsters. If the heart-pounding anxiety was how his mom felt when she fought alongside. Yet, now he knew it wasn’t, and maybe that was worse to know. That the act of trying to survive a monster was so much easier than being honest. It was all so far away from the reality of his life and he laughed.
“I'm not scared of people,” Claude said. “But as you’ve seen today, I'm pretty scared by monsters.”
“Not the monster, my…” She trailed off again, but this time, realization dawned on her face. Followed by fear. There were a dozen questions Claude expected to come out of Edelgard's mouth. But what she picked surprised him. “How could you tell?”
“Dude screams abuser,” he answered.
“Claude,” she whispered. Like it was something to hide between them, even in a space so isolated. “How did you know he wasn't human.”
He wasn't sure if anyone had ever looked at him with such grim determination before. So Claude was honest. “I could see it.”
“How?” came as a demand.
“Just like with that dog thing earlier, Edelgard. Your slimy uncle oozes the scent of death and I can see it! Like how you have to know that the two of them are connected. Like how I can see how alive everyone else at school is,” said Claude. Louder than he meant, but that was apparently the right answer. “Everyone has secrets and I know you wanted to know mine, so there. That’s what I’ve been keeping from you. That’s all that’s special about me. We're even now.” He breathed into his hands and rubbed his temple. “I know that's what you've been looking for.”
“You could see him for what he is?” she asked. When he expected her to ask how he could tell, that question was refreshing. But Edelgard went on. “...then. How long have you known about me.”
How long had he been guessing.
How long had Claude been dancing around nervous realities like they were games instead of real consequences. People who weren’t quite right. Not quite normal. Like him.
It was awkward to tell someone you knew they were dead. “A while.” He waited a moment for an answer before saying, “Sorry.”
The doors of the car clicked open and Claude took his chance to awkwardly climb out. But before he could walk away, the window rolled down.
Edelgard was looking at him. In a quiet voice, she said, “It’s alright.”
Before he had the chance to formulate a response, the window had rolled up and she drove away down the street.