Work Text:
Olivia sat alone in silence, only the fluttering pages of an aged entomology book keeping her company. She dutifully rehearsed the various pollinators existing in Prehevil, had she gotten the chance to encounter them on her journey. Episyrphus balteatus, her finger traced over the page; "Die Hainschwebfliege." She turned to the wordbook propped on the red seat, hastily flipping the pages then taking notes. Her treatise was filled with notes, little doodles and folded tips of the pages. Seated on the floor, she had unraveled her book-bag and founded her own study in the corner by a window. A young gentleman with curled locks kept her company, he seemed interested in her studies but hardly answered when she referred to him. He timidly told Olivia his name is 'Marcoh,' and he had promised to venture to Prehevil to find a wheelchair for her to use. Another gentleman clad in a tailored suit had made Marcoh company too. The train became woefully quiet after their departure, but Olivia had grown used to the peace. The trains door cracked open, two heavy feet stepped inside. Olivia turned her sight upwards in excitement as the door shifty shut, but her eyes were met by something out of her nightmares.
"Oh me, oh my," the masked person announced with a chirp. Olivia was petrified seeing this abomination tower over her.
She slowly put her book aside as she examined the figure, a human dressed in costume—certainly a hallucination. Had she taken her warfarin, or her aspirin? Another stroke, surely not? Olivia pushed herself backwards as much as she could, helpless as her limp legs never took charge anymore. The figure stepped in front of her, a well kept suit with four ornate buttons, saggy trousers and army boots. Most freakishly, they bore a round mask, shaped as a cat with a gaping jaw. The eyes were black, hollow and still; yet she swore the pupils followed her every shuffle. The segmented black tail rattled quietly as it moved, the sound was nauseating, like air popping in your neck.
Olivia began with a stutter, "Who are—"
"Pardon my manners; my name is Kitmet, and I'm your fate," they said, hand shuffling in their pocket. Olivia's eyes darted elsewhere as their shameful rubbing continued.
"Who are you?" Olivia attempted once again, glancing at the person in her peripheral.
"Fancy keeping me company?"
Olivia bit down an anxious sigh and murmured, "sure."
"Good, I'll fancy myself a seat," Kitmet said as they sat opposite to Olivia. They crossed their long leg over the other and leaned forward, even when folded like an envelope their frame was grotesque in comparison to Olivia's.
"Do you know why I'm here?"
"No, I have no idea," Olivia muttered, hands clenching her skirt.
"I'm here to get the show on the road. You see, everyone has been dilly-dallying and my compatriot hasn't gotten you moving—" Kitmet cleared their throat. "You've been idle for too long."
They kicked their crossed foot slightly, "sorry, can't think of a better word."
"An attempt at humor?
"Anyhow, I'm here to stir the pot. You're looking for Reila, yes?"
Kitmet pulled their hand out of their pocket, a silver necklace was entangled in their thin, clawed fingers. At the end of the chain there was a butterfly, the smallest sapphire engraved in its chest. Olivia instinctively reached out for it, but Kitmet pulled back.
Kitmet repeated, "yes?"
"Where'd you get that?" Olivia hollered.
"Lost and found box," Kitmet pocketed it again. "Doesn't matter where I found it."
"Please, can I have it?"
"I'll hold onto it, I've got space aplenty in my pockets."
"What do you want for it?"
"Two heads," Kitmet held up two fingers in a victory sign. Their voice was awfully blunt compared to their cheery arrival. Olivia was taken aback by the change in demeanor, the severity of her situation began settling.
"Two heads? What do you mean?"
"I want two heads of either of the other contestants, don't care whose, but I want 'em before the festival begins. Until then, I'm keeping the necklace."
"What use is it to you?" Olivia bargained, she couldn't hide her frustration anymore, she bit her teeth as her eyes burned a tinge. She hated this, herself—her inability to fight back.
Kitmet watched with great interest as they tilted their head with a purr, "you know, maybe this is your chance to outshine your twin, to overcome your stasis and prove yourself."
Olivia sat in silence as she examined the mysterious figure with a trembling lip, feelings ran amok inside her chest, but she pretended to keep her calm. Although, the feline eyes bore deep into her. Her façade was far from bulletproof.
"Cat got your tongue?"
"What are you on about, why do you keep bringing up Reila? You know nothing about her and I," Olivia protested.
"You envy her, don't you? You don't think she deserves her achievements, she had it easy, unlike you. You had to fight twice as hard, and for what?"
"Don't say that!" Olivia shouted.
"She's your other half, but you weren't born the same month. She's a Radiating one, no? So, what are you?"
Without a second thought, Olivia reached for the lexicon and throw it with force. It hit Kismet's nose, although it brought no reaction. Kitmet only purred in contentment. Olivia's breath was heavy, its as if the stagnant air didn't reach her lungs anymore.
"I'm not supposed to get involved with the festivities, but I can't help myself, you feel?"
Kitmet pushed the tails of their coat aside and reached to their lower back. When they pulled their gloved hand back out, they revealed a handgun. They displayed the ammo remaining, three bullets. With a click, they closed it before handing it over to Olivia. She looked at it, fidgeted with her hands until she swiftly grabbed it. For safety, she reasoned, if the tales of the townsfolk turning mad are to be believed. She examined the dark gun, it must be factory new. Her skin looked so pale when its black coat laid in her palm. She hadn't handled a gun before, she never wanted to; but there was a newfound confidence holding it in her hands. The trigger fit her finger like a ring.
"Three bullets," Kitmet broke the silence. "Two contestants, and the third ain't for me, don't try. Do as you wish."
Olivia didn't bother taking aim at the strange creature, there was no use, she dare not take the chance. Kitmet stood up and dusted their black trousers, the tip of the tail clicked as they flicked it with excitement. Olivia swore she could hear them mewl.
"Two heads, and don't bother looking for me," Kitmet took their leave, careful not to step in the circle among the scattered suitcases. "I'll know."
She heard the nasty cracks of their tail flick before the door closed. She held the handgun gently, as if it was infantile. She carefully stuffed it in her handbag, shuffling to hide it behind her scribbled paper. She grabbed her entomology book once again, lazily flipping through to distract her dazed mind.
Danaus plexippus, "der Monarchfalter."
She looked at the lexicon she threw across. Olivia slumped together as tears well up, they didn't stop. "Reila," she thought.
The tears never stop.