How to Make a Sinner Sleep - Chapter 87: Chapter 87

Kaden had intended to meet with Reed, only to be greeted by a swinging door and an infuriated expression, drawing those regal brows together taut, gaze vicious and cruel.
The sinner stopped, face inches away from the open door. He calmly took a step back, raising an eyebrow. "What's the matter, master?"
Reed narrowed his eyes. "It's a matter that doesn't involve you."
"Aren't I your most loyal dog?"
"A dog that tries to bite me when I'm not looking." Reed sneered, shaking his head. "Well it doesn't matter if you know. Perhaps he'll end up a target for you, or he'll end up as mine. I've yet to decide—but a greedy fool is more use to me dead."
A laugh slipped from Kaden and he faked an apology, covering his mouth. "Is somebody ripping you off, Your Highness?"
"An idiotic, pathetic rat that doesn't know his place."
"I suppose you'll make it known?"
Reed rubbed his temples tiredly, glaring. "Don't think I'm unaware of the sarcasm dripping in your voice, dog."
"If you weren't, I'd be rather upset." said Kaden pleasantly, shrugging. "Are you off to have a little meeting with this... disobedient friend of yours?"
Kaden asked a question that he knew—Reed was never one to put things off once they escalated to a point of rousing his anger. He would act, and it would be immediate. It seemed Richard was more foolish that he thought, to be lured by greed and delusions so easily.
But perhaps it was natural—a man that got a taste of luxury could only desire more. They feared falling back into poverty, unable to return to their old life.
Then, it would only take a little more... convincing, for Richard to step out of line. The prime time to act was then and there, during their meeting. Reed never hesitated to eliminate those he concluded were more useful dead than alive.
'Be a good sacrifice for my cause, Richard Halls.'
Kaden smiled, allowing Reed to storm past. He waited, and quickly found a carriage to slide into, following the general trail without drawing too close. After getting off at a nearby location, he'd have to do a little searching to reunite with the little act of command and greed.
Thankfully, he seemed to be a magnet for trouble, soon encountering their meeting at the sides of a butcher shop, the stench of raw meat permeating the floor.
Footsteps splashed across the mudstreaked cobblestone, the swaying of long coats loud in the midst of the early morning's silence.
"Richard," Reed's smile was thin, strained and on the verge of collapse. "I can take my business elsewhere, and where would that leave you? Your success only exists because of my grace."
The commoner-turned-noble gulped visibly. "The-there's trouble finding everything you need lately. It takes a lot more resources than you think—"
"Do you honestly think I don't monitor you? The nerve you have lying to your crown prince's face. I may as well decide your punishment here and now for daring to rise against me."
Kaden looked at the cruel expression, dark and stormy and one that made those he looked down upon cower at his feet. Sighing, he leaned against the wall gazing at the dirty stream of red running from the shop's drain.
The murky crimson mixed with dirty brown, steeping into stone.
His thumb rubbed over a smooth stone—a far more advanced recording stone, able to capture vague images and display them in one's mind for a set amount of times.
It robbed him of half his gold owned.
The poor man only became poorer. Bolivia had laughed at his distraught.
The video had already started recording, but Kaden couldn't find a good time to roll it into the scene. In the silence, it was impossible to do things subtly. He would likely have to enter the scene to appear most natural.
First, Richard needed a little more convincing. A little courage.
Out popped several blinking eyes in the shadows, peering at Kaden curiously. He ignored them, directing his attention towards the space around the corner.
Whispers began to trickle into Richard's listening ears, a reminder that he too was a noble, that if he backed down, he would forever live in Reed's shadows.
'You're just a toy to him. Disposable. Aren't you pitiful?' the whispers hissed as Richard shrugged on shoulder with a sudden discomfort, rubbing his ear. And yet they persisted, taunting and digging in the cracks of his prideful exterior.
Reed suddenly appeared bright and magnificent, even in the shadows of the street, even surrounded by the smell of chopped meat.
This Crown Prince, far away from a commoner's gaze.
It was a glorious star one could only dream of touching. Often, such brilliance remained high in the skies, taunting those below with scornful eyes.
Those arrogant blue eyes became sharper—looking down on him.
Frustration boiled in the pits of Richard's stomach, unable to look away. He imagined Reed's sneer, the cruel and disgraceful glare. "Useless. You can't even do anything right."
The taunts continued, piled one after the other until they rebounded in Richard's mind like an echo.
Opposite, Reed frowned. He'd barely spoken when Richard displayed some strangeness, first rolling his shoulders in discomfort, then covering and uncovering his ears. Of course, that commoner risen noble had always been a touch strange in the head.
He made risks he could not follow time after time, and succeeded, somehow. It really was a miracle of the world that he was still alive.
Reed supposed, strays had a tenacious way of clinging to life.
The particular one he kept and housed certainly did. Though that pink-haired stray could never be compared against a filthy, greedy mongrel like the man before him. The comparison would be a disgrace in itself.
The patter of rain continued spilling onto the cobbled streets, mixing with dirt and old blood streaming from the butcher's house. This location had been chosen with purpose.
Then, a heavier sound came around the corner, too light to be one of the citizens, too heavy to be the frantic drops of rain, small despite their crashing speed against the ground.
Reed's gaze swept sideways sharply. He waited a beat, then a second, his hand tightening around the sword hanging at his belt. The death of a civilian wasn't ideal and he didn't particularly enjoy mindless killing.
What would be the correct move? To spin the sword and stab his own chest, pinning the blame on the dazed Richard Halls?
And yet, despite his rushing thoughts, not another sound came.
Reed frowned, redirecting his attention to Richard, whose eyes opened with renewed vigour. He clicked his tongue under his breath—finding a replacement for Richard would be an annoyance, but not a difficulty.
There were few in the world irreplaceable. Including him.
Kaden's head throbbed in the murkiness of his mind and environment, cold, skeleton hands wrapping around his throat and poking at the reddish inner corners of his eyes. He felt bugs crawling up his skin, little tickles dancing along his leg.
The Reversal process hastened at every use of ability—he thought of that picture; a girl's decaying and mutilated body. The result of her taking the wounds that she healed.
Would he become truly mad, wandering around the streets like a diseased rat that plagued those who neared? A cursed abomination whose mere presence drew nightmarish scenes?
Madness, he realized, was a fate set in stone.
He would discuss with Nicola later—her understanding of blessings surpassed his narrowed view. Things understood from his perspective could never be the precise same as another.
He stopped the delusions, but like parasites, they'd already embedded into Richard's easily influenced mind.
Richard, Richard, he pleaded in a drunken slur of thoughts. Please die for my cause.
A laugh bubbled in his chest, and he choked it back down. Life, a thing so precious and wondrous, a given blessing that could never be dissected through research and studies alone. He was a sinner to his core, a killer in his nature. Daring to reap and steal what wasn't his.
In madness, he once found peace. By abandoning his mind, he became a perfect doll for the molding.
It was an easy way out when death would not come.
"Time to shine," he mumbled to himself as the argument grew heated, voices rising.
He glanced around briefly at the isolated streets, the few lit windows among the smog of darkness. Likely, Reed had set a barrier of sorts to go unnoticed. Although unsurprisingly, humans often liked to pretend not to see things that were in front of them.
Many sought the life of a main character, envious of those in the spotlight or desiring more than they had while simultaneously playing a bystander, always wishing, never acting.
Hypocrites. Kaden was not an exception to that.
He could almost hear the gears shuffling and turning, a low creak of cruelty in Reed's mind. The stone recorded the conversation—but visual proof was Kaden's aim.
Therefore, he staggered around the corner, casually shoving his hands into his coat's pockets. He dropped the stone, kicking it lightly across the ground as it landed perfectly between the men. Both turned at the sound of his feet, one wide-eyed and one sharp, scrutinizing.
Kaden waved his fingers in a friendly manner.
"Did I disrupt something?"
Pink hair plastered to the sides of his face, making his bones more angular and sharp as his green eyes gleamed, pale and frightening. Richard, having only briefly met 'Kaden Chauvet' during the carriage incident long ago, felt an immense familiarity.
Being close to 'Niklas' for weeks, the youthful and charming noble that understood him like no other, it was impossible for Richard not to associate the familiar gaze, the striking features.
His voice trembled, "You are—"
"The Royal Family's dog, at your service." Kaden bowed, cutting off Richard's words.
Reed scowled, irritating as he ran his fingers through wet hair, water splattering against the ground. "Why are you here, dog? Did you follow me?"
"I went for a walk since my owner wasn't willing to take me out. It's a coincidence."
"The truth, Kaden!"
Kaden felt his shoulders shamelessly curl, his body wanting to retreat and take a step back in face of Reed's anger. But he remained planted on the ground, steady. Reed seemed to recognize the fear, a myriad of emotions flashing in his gaze.
The sinner kept his smile pasted. "I wanted to see if I could mess with you, Reed. I'm always looking forward to your downfall, after all."
"And who would believe in your words?"
Kaden shifted—it would take more than a single lifetime in between to erase his discomfort around Reed. "More like, I was hoping I'd come across some information I could investigate more into."
Reed scoffed, relaxing. Although the argument had been intense, neither had explicitly mentioned the goods that they were discussing or the finer details to their relationship. One couldn't retrieve anything detrimental from their conversation.
Richard still stared at Kaden, fixated, and Reed felt a twinge of annoyance that his dog was being stared at by a pair of dirty eyes.
The deal had fallen through—Richard demanded more money than he needed, even after Reed kindly went out of the way to negotiate. Not to mention, he'd been hearing his name tossed around more often in the Underground; somebody was spreading his name, using it for their benefit.
It didn't take a scholar to understand who it would be.
"Enough. I've had enough—my time is limited, and you've wasted it." Reed drew his sword cleanly, unhesitatingly. "Kaden, if you're determined to tear me down, then witness this. If you can prove it—see what you can do with that information. As a treat, I'll give you a weakness to exploit."
He strode forth before anybody could react, and the blade sliced through the air, through the rain— and across Richard Hall's chest. The man shakily touched his gaping chest, blood smearing and then washing away, cleaned.
He opened his mouth, but another sound sliced through the air and saliva and a metallic taste bubbled in the back of his throat. His throat, now gaping in a similar fashion to his chest. Reed lifted his chin coldly within the rain, indifferent.
Richard used the last of his strength to stare at Kaden—Kaden, not Niklas. Not his noble friend, not the one person who didn't judge his commoner background, who didn't secretly look down on him.
This was Kaden Chauvet, a murderer and a liar.
Hatred burned in Richard's fading eyes.
Kaden received the look calmly, not turning his head away. When Richard's life finally faded, washed into the dirty streets of the city among the corpses of rats and bugs, he turned to look at Reed who observed him quietly.
Kaden's lip quirked. "What a beautiful sword, Crown Prince. What an honour it would be to die by such a fine blade."
Reed thrust the sword up, the tip gingerly resting on Kaden's throat. The sharpness nicked the fine layer of skin, a trickle of blood running down his neck. Kaden stared back calmly, into the deep blue that he once feared and loved.
"Your death would be anything but honourable." sneered the prince as he flicked the blade sideways, a long line of blood splattering against the wet stone. He slid it back into the hilt. "Whatever nonsense you plan, remember that I'm always aware."
"If you want to go against me—do not get caught."
Kaden smiled. "Of course. I, of all people, know best not to underestimate you. You should also remember, master. There's a point in time where children have to grow up, and they don't remain the same fools as they once were."
Reed spared him a single look before turning around the corner, leaving the body behind. "Clean up that mess—I'd hate to poison the stray animals that wander around here."
"Poison? I would think he'd make a rather filling meal." Kaden smiled, mouthing one word. "Protein."
Reed really didn't want to discuss the nutritional contents of Richard's corpse and his steps quickened, leaving the scene without another word. After he disappeared, Kaden kicked a few stones around and bent down to pick one up, rubbing his thumb over it.
He slipped it into his pocket and glanced at the folded corpse, slumped on the ground. He sighed and rolled up his sleeves, lifting the body.
Flesh and slivers of white bone could be seen in the gape of Richard's flapping skin, through the ripped clothing. It was unmistakably a corpse. Kaden paused, closing the man's eyelids that stared at him unnervingly, as if desperate to make his presence known.
Around the corner, a hooded shadow leaned against the wall, their eyes closed as they listened. Their eyebrows furrowed, hands curling into itself in frustration before limply hanging helplessly.
"Goodnight, friend." said Kaden quietly, walking deep into the forests as he fished a shovel from somewhere, digging and digging. The hole grew deeper, far deeper than needed. "Even if it was fake for me, it seems like that wasn't the case for you."
He dropped the body over the hole, hearing it fall onto the uncovered dirt with a wet thud as dirt and water sloshed together.
"In your next life, I pray you live one where you can be judged by the depth of your character rather than your weight in gold."
He tossed the dirt back into the hole, filling it quickly. His hands were a mess, covered in sludge and blood, clothes stained with a colour likely impossible to remove through washing them.
He considered the shabby grave once more as rain ran down his face.
"Well, you'll probably burn in the afterlife, considering all your sins." he decided finally, any conflict disappearing along with the sight of the body. After all, he had spent a good amount of time with that man—the version of the man that was curious and intelligent.
He crouched down, speaking to the grave, a mound of dirt piled high, flattened the more water weighed down on it.
"Then, as a last wish," He thought carefully. "I hope you suffer magnificently. Thank you for your sacrifice."
For the weight of the lives sacrificed, for his intelligence that was used to destroy others rather than aid. Richard Halls was a man that deserved death.
But then, what of Kaden Chauvet?