Chapter Text
Since the first time they met, it was evident that Patricia was not the kind of person who liked to socialize or engage in small talk. Kevin didn't take it personally, as he understood that no one came here to make friends. From his observations, it was clear that she preferred to keep to herself and didn't make much effort to interact with anyone.
In an attempt to break the ice, Kevin tried to give her a nickname (Patty, like the minty treat), but she corrected him quickly, making it clear that she was not interested in such familiarity. Cold.
Sticks and stones. He'd try again at another time. Although she's nothing like her, something about Patricia's presence still felt so familiar. It drew him to her, he had to try again.
During their initial encounter at the manor, Kevin briefly introduced himself to her. He wanted to come off as prideful and strong; Someone she could trust if put in danger. He'd always done that, with every woman he met. However, Patricia remained undisturbed by his theatrics. In fact, she hadn't paid much attention to his face at all. She was looking down, at his waist. During that conversation, she inquired about the rope that he had on his hip. Although bothered by her disinterest in his charm, he'd brushed it aside. Kevin was more than happy to share the history and significance of the rope with her. It was a sentimental item, after all.
He spoke honestly yet vaguely about its past, and she listened attentively. Her response was positive (for once), and she applauded him for being truthful.
It was unclear to him whether her appreciation was just a simple gesture of kindness, or if she had some prior knowledge that he was unaware of. Regardless, Kevin didn't dwell on it too much and simply appreciated the positive interaction. During their talk, she also offered to show him an item that was important to her.
An animal skull.
Though he found it a bit shocking, he couldn't help but be intrigued by the object. The enchantress graciously allowed him to touch it, and he could feel that it was well taken care of. He also noticed that she was quite protective of it, much like how he was with his possessions.
After their brief talk, he soon concluded that Patricia was not averse to conversations; she was just longing for someone to talk to. Ayuso noticed that her peculiar conduct and abrupt responses resembled that of an individual who hadn't had the opportunity to acclimate to their surroundings just yet. Although conversing with her was a daunting task, Ayuso refused to just give up like some kind of coward.
And to top it all off? She just looked nice. She rarely smiled, but he enjoyed looking at her face. She was almost like a stray cat, her expressions of curiosity often erasing that tough exterior of hers. Of course, not everyone would call to attention the looks of someone like Miss Dorval. They had disgusting biases.
That Vera was far too interested in herself to have an open mind. The same went with Mister Edgar, though, he could blame his attitude simply on being a strict hermit. He honestly didn't like anyone. The two were dead-set on excluding Patty, and much to his dismay, she hadn't done much to deny their faux, selfish claims.
Vera and Jose both seemed to have a personal vendetta against the enchantress already. The perfumer's posh lifestyle clashed with the other Patricia's, who could care less for such petty luxuries. Jose had just become upset with everyone after his attempt at hypnotizing failed. Not that it mattered; He was cheating, in Kevin's eyes. Taking advantage of others in such a way... That wasn't a true man. The painter, Edgar, appeared to still be be indifferent towards her and remained occupied with other matters most of the time.
And so what if she threatened to curse them? That was just one thing, and probably just a joke anyway. Kevin was far too focused on the money to worry about petty threats. The group's little disputes were nothing but that; Little, harmless disputes. There was yet to be any physical altercation, and despite strong opinions, nobody appeared foolish enough to resort to violence.
Besides, he doubted that Patricia even had the heart to follow through with such a thing.
(...Not to him, at least.)
He could still recall the last day before everything spiraled into chaos. The previous night, he had a nightmare. One regarding Angelina, and the rest of that tribe.
The setting was hazy and hard to recall, but the one part he remembered distinctly was the flames. It always began with the flames.
The ambiance was unsettling - a far cry from what he had envisioned for his "happy memory." He sat in front of a blazing fireplace, but an unexplainable coldness persisted in the air, with no warmth emanating from the flames. From a nearby window, he observed an amalgamation of purples and oranges in the sky, making it difficult to discern whether the sun was setting or rising. He expected it to rise, for the room to fill with light and comfort. He'd predicted it, but it never came.
Kevin felt chills throughout his entire body. He wasn't wearing his hat, and the cold was getting to him, but he knew that he couldn't leave. Not yet.
Suddenly, that girl appears. His Angelina. Despite her face looking so... distorted, he knew it was her. It *had* to be. She's the only face he ever took the time to remember, even if her image is slowly escaping his memory. Her face was always so round and kind, even when surrounded by the harshness of their battling communities. Angelina was merciful; She was something sweet.
She was talking to him, saying something he couldn't quite make out, but it didn't matter much until she held out her hand. In it, was a noose.
He stared at her in confusion, unsure if he should take it. If he deserved something like that, from someone like her. But then she smiles, and the place feels warm again, and he knows that he has to take it. His throat swelled.
He couldn't comprehend its importance at that moment. He was sure he'd lose it just within a few nights. He'd never know that everything that followed this moment would forever fill his chest with grief and guilt, and that rope would become a symbol of his identity entirely. He'd never know how he let so many people down and betrayed the very group that taught him real loyalty. Something was different about this dream. His mouth tastes like acid, and he knows that he'd never gone drinking before this memory. This was about something else.
He blinks in surprise and reaches out to grab it... But as soon as his hand is stretched out to retrieve it, Linny is gone.
The fire is out, and it's dark outside.
So it was setting.
Angelina? It's not safe for you to be out there. Come back.
Kevin looks around and sees that the home is now empty. There's no trail or hints as to where she went, no indication of her presence. He couldn't even bring himself to imagine what must've happened when he wasn't there.
Do you think she knows?
His heart begins to race, as if in some competition with his thoughts. Where has she gone?
He calls out for her, but all that escapes is a puff of air. He cannot speak. Cannot breathe. He looks back down at the rope, palms feeling numb as he gripped it tightly.
This is your fault, Ayuso. What have you done?