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Legundo had messed everything up. By lying about what he actually was, he just drove the town further apart. The meeting with Owen had its good parts, but he ended up pushing him too far. That’s all he did, it seemed. Push and break and tear down everything good that he had tried to start. The only thing he succeeded at was war. He killed and was good at it. Maybe it was all he was meant for. To destroy. His hands would always be covered in blood no matter how hard he scrubbed at them. No good deed would undo the damage he caused.
He knew the other townsfolk didn’t need him. They would do just fine without him. To show his appreciation, he stayed up all night and made countless bottles of holy water. It was the least he could do for the people who took him in. Maybe they would all turn into vampires in the end, but would that really be bad? It seemed like the people who were apprehensive at first had warmed up to the others. And they hadn’t changed from how they were before. Maybe Legs was just prolonging the solution to people’s pain.
Or maybe not. Maybe people were just going to be hurt more, and then he would have made a stupid decision that doomed some of the only people he cared about. He didn’t have anyone back home. He put everything about the war behind him, and he ended up alone. That was fine. He was fine. It was better if he didn’t have any connections. No one would miss him, then.
That was for the best. He couldn’t think about the townsfolk. Legs would talk himself out of it then. He would only cause more harm by staying. He checked his bag quickly. Inside it sat a long, cotton rope he had brought with him during his travels, a silver dagger, and the note he had written. Legundo had to remind himself over and over as he silently slipped out of the town’s walls that he was doing everyone a favor.
They would benefit from this! Without him, things would finally come to a peaceful conclusion. Right? Yes, definitely. He couldn’t doubt anything now. He had gone too far already, and there was no redeeming him. Now, Legundo wasn’t a religious man. Not really, but whenever he found himself in the midst of war, sometimes he’d end up praying. It wasn’t to any god in particular, but he had found comfort in it after being forced out into the front lines. Legs was sure there would be some sort of hell waiting for him when he died. It was the least he deserved for everything he had done.
Legundo kept himself aware as he started to tread off of the path and into the trees. He absolutely couldn’t let anyone find him now. If he was found by a vampire, then at least he might get what he wanted after all. If a person found him… then that would be a different story. They most certainly would drag him back to town and ruin the only chance he would have at truly doing something good.
The forest was almost eerily quiet. It had been getting quieter as more vampires had joined the coven, but it was dead silent. No crickets or wayward owls. Not even the leaves crunched underfoot despite the mid autumn weather. It was as if the trees themselves knew his plan. Legundo didn’t have an idea of where he would end up. He just wanted to be alone. Isolated. It seems like he found his spot.
The trees were thick around him. Even the red glow from the moon barely broke through the foliage. The branches around him were all thick and sturdy. They likely wouldn’t snap under the weight of a person. It was also somewhere that appeared to be relatively untouched. It wasn’t near any crypts or beacons. It was far from the town and castle. It was perfect.
Legundo looked around for a somewhat heavy rock. He removed the items from his bag and laid the leather satchel down on the ground. Then, he took his note and placed the rock on it. The note would only move if disturbed intentionally by a creature, and with the silence of the forest, no wandering animals would nudge it. Legs then slipped the silver dagger beneath his surgeon's robes. If he failed, at least he had a backup. He sighed as he looked up at the tree he had chosen. It wasn’t the strongest among the group, but it did have gnarled roots that protruded from the earth. One that poked out quite far could be used as a good stepping stool of sorts.
The knot trying was almost second nature to Legs. It was a skill he learned in the army and was very useful for some surgeries and other medical procedures. The slipknot was quick to tie. He looked at the noose he had made for a few seconds. No going back now. He began to secure the other side of the rope to the tree.
He closed his eyes as he slid the rope over his neck. As he stepped forward, expecting the end of his life, he felt himself hit the ground with a heavy thud. His eyes snapped open as he saw Owen’s figure above him. His face was contorted into an expression of pure rage as Legs felt his claws dig into his shoulders, keeping him pinned.
“What in the actual HELL do you think you’re doing?!” Owen shouted. With his face so close, Legs recoiled from how loud his shout sounded. Legs couldn’t look him in the eyes. Of course Owen found him in the one moment he didn’t want to be found. He then felt his nails dig into his jaw and cheek as Owen forced his head to look towards him.
“ANSWER ME!” he cried. Legundo knew a questioning might happen if his plan failed and he was discovered, but he found that the answers he had prepared in his head had suddenly vanished.
“I… I told you, didn’t I?” Legundo asked softly. “I’ve done much worse than you or any other person here. Dying is the only true way I can be cleansed of the blood on my hands.”
“You’re more stupid than I thought, doctor. And a complete hypocrite. Whatever you’ve done cannot compare to me. I killed 2,799 people intentionally. Whatever blood you have on your hands was never your choice to make,” Owen hissed. Legundo tried to say something, but Owen placed a hand over his mouth. “Even though my crimes are far worse, each time you see me you spout countless reasons as to why I deserve forgiveness and why I’m not a horrible person.”
Legundo just stayed still, his chest slowly rising and falling as his breathing began to even out. Maybe Owen was right about that, but he still could change. Legs would never be able to change no matter how hard he tried to. He tried to move his hand to the hilt of his dagger. Maybe he could finish the job if he could get Owen distracted.
When he met Owen’s eyes again, he was surprised to find them misty. “I cannot lose another person I care about. I tried not to get attached again, but I couldn’t. You and your stupid words of forgiveness and stupid smile enthralled me. So please shut up and stay here. If not for you, then for me.”
Legs was left speechless. Owen had to be lying, right? He knew that they had made some sort of connection, but he thought it was all ruined after the last conversation they had. Legs found himself on the verge of tears, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn’t start believing someone actually cared now. Not after everything he did to convince himself otherwise. This had to be another trick, right? There’s no way another vampire wasn’t lurking around here somewhere, waiting for him to completely let his guard down so they can either kill or turn him.
No one would ever truly like him, right? …Right? Legundo felt the first tear fall despite his efforts to keep himself strong. He couldn’t cry here. He was supposed to stay strong. He had to show that death is what he really wanted, even if he was having regrets. Crying wouldn’t help his case. His hand had found its way to the hilt of his dagger, but Legs couldn’t find it in him to use it. He just was so exhausted.
“...I do not deserve your kindness, Owen. I really don’t,” Legs said softly. His voice was shaky and cracked from the tears that spilled. Owen’s eyes softened slightly. His nails stopped digging into Legs’s skin. Wordlessly, he brought the doctor into a sitting position. Owen then gently brushed his thumb across the other's face, wiping away the pricks of blood that formed from where his nails had clawed into skin.
“I apologize for my roughness, but you do deserve kindness. More so than me. I understand that the gift I have is not one you would like, and I am sorry for attempting to force it onto you earlier, but I did it for the very same reason I just tackled you. I cannot let you die. Not here.” Owen cupped the doctor’s face in his hands. “I cannot let you go back to town now knowing that you may try this again. I’m worried about you. I know my gift is not one you will accept, at least not now, but meet me where you left that note before. Three times a week at least you have to go. 9:00 should be good. The night will be new so there is little chance we are found. You will talk to me about this. Understood?”
Legundo just smiled softly. “I will accept, only if you share your feelings, too. I know you are also suffering, and I would hate for you to try something similar to what I did tonight.” Owen’s expression soured, clearly not wanting to share everything, but he sighed fondly.
“You put others before yourself too much. I suppose I can talk about myself somewhat, but you are taking priority,” Owen said. Legs just nodded gently. Owen pulled him close, burying his head into Legs’s shoulder. They sat like that for a few minutes. They could feel each other’s breathing fall into rhythm with the other. The constant warmth that Legundo produced was a direct contrast to the constant cold of Owen. Eventually, Legs pulled away. He untied the rope from the tree and handed it to Owen.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I’m not sure how much I can trust myself right now. It was the only rope I had, so I’m trusting you with it. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop feeling like this, but thank you for what you’ve done.” A small smile flickered across Owen’s face before he vanished into the treeline. Legs saw him turn and wave at least five times.
Once he was out of sight, Legundo slung his bag over his shoulder and stared at the note he had written. Then, he ripped it and kept ripping it until it was just barely visible pieces of white. Tomorrow, Legs decided he would sit down with the townsfolk and talk to them. Maybe coming forward would let the others share if they had any mental struggles. And, maybe, then he could mend something for once.