How to Make a Sinner Sleep - Chapter 91: Chapter 91

Kaden was ordered to remain in the shadows until called, like a dog bound by a leash, kept in his cage to restrain his violence. Reed had cleared an empty tavern, making it appear as though it were running business as usual despite his manipulation.
Kaden sat on the cold steps outside, leaning against the door as laughter and awkward cheers echoed across the room. The meeting had begun.
He'd taken the faerie to a local doctor that specialized in non-human beings—a rarity in this city polluted by humans. Although he supposed, this was a human city—and therefore, humans were common. It would be different in other places, such as the Dragon's Treasure.
The flow of random thoughts allowed him to disguise the vivid images in his head.
In fact, memory became altered with every recollection. It was a thing easily swayed, and perhaps the act of remembering that scene gave rise to details that were more grotesque and terrible than it had actually been.
Though did it matter, when the facts didn't change no matter whether there was more blood or less, if there had been more wrinkles in the skin or less emotion in her softened gaze?
The fact that there were two corpses in that room.
A shudder wracked his aching body and he blamed the cold.
"You made a mistake," a voice called out bitterly from above, where an overhang stretched above Kaden. He didn't look up. "That was dangerous—you shouldn't have revealed your identity, Kaden Chauvet."
Kaden fiddled with a stone at his feet, then flipped the gold coin into his palm and played with that instead.
"Ignoring me now? I'm wounded." Teased the voice, though their tiredness couldn't be hidden.
The Organizer flipped backwards, landing at Kaden's feet at a low crouch. He wore a different face again, obscured by the darkness. This evening, he wore red hair and rich green eyes, a hat tipped over his forehead.
A gleam of metal swayed under the open collar of his shirt, a metallic chain that led to a small charm. Kaden glanced briefly, but he couldn't make out the small shape. It seemed to have a wing. Tonight, the man seemed to enjoy accessories, rings lining over his knuckles as well.
"Can you listen to me, at least?"
Kaden's gaze flickered up coldly. "I believe it's in your principals to watch from the sidelines and remain a pathetic bystander. Interference isn't in your values."
"Even I pity fools when they act foolish. You're not immortal, Mr. Fox. It would do you well to rely on your allies. The revelation of your identity may harm the Crown Prince—it may prove your words and his cruelty, but it endangers you as well!"
The Organizer huffed in a flurry of words, frustration stemming off the top of his hat. If it manifested into reality, it would appear as steaming smoke. Kaden wondered if he could cook potatoes over the Organizer's frustration.
The ridiculous thought appeased his turbulent mind. Obscurity masked obscurity, and such thoughts could misdirect from the ones probing at his mind.
"I haven't acted in any way that was blind to the consequences."
"You acted in a way that didn't care for them! The fact that you're aware is worse—because you know you're in danger, and put yourself there anyway!"
"Who are you to tell me anything!" snapped Kaden suddenly, a cloud of air escaping his mouth from the chilling air. "Know your place, Sir Organizer."
The other party went still and quietly wondered, "If I was somebody with meaning to you, a friend, a lover, a companion or family—would that change anything? Would my words hold any more merit if I mattered more?"
"That—"
"They'd matter, but only to fuel your inhibitions. Because of how much I care, if I were somebody important, it would make it more necessary for you to play the reckless fool you are."
The Organizer stood up, grounding their teeth. They tipped their hat in a mock farewell, hands curled against their sides. "I rather value entertainment, and you hold no value to me dead. I shall spread rumours of infidelity and that you wet your bed."
Kaden blanked, choking. "What?"
"Aha!" continued the Organizer immaturely, a smile spreading on their face. "Is that frightfully dreadful, enough to make you reconsider?"
"There's something wrong with you."
"Similarly, I could say the same to you! I'll spread the most dreadful rumours about you, the most ridiculous things and insist upon them. You know my ability!"
Kaden stood up at the retreating figure in disbelief, all other thoughts chased away. "What good are rumours to me when I'm dead?"
"All those dear companions of yours will know you to still wet the bed," the Organizer wrinkled his nose and covered his mouth as if embarrassed. "Do you have a companion at night? All they'll remember about you is that you secretly wet the—"
A rock skidded past the Organizer's cheek with pinpoint accuracy as Kaden glared, slightly flushed from the cold and sheer disbelief at the ridiculous threats.
"The next one won't miss."
"Oh hit me, I dare you."
Kaden sneered. "Oh, I dare—"
Three knocks came from behind the door, blending with the chatter inside. Kaden went still, his shoulders slumping as the rock in his hand fell onto the ground.
The Organizer flinched and swallowed. "Come on now, all talk and no bite? You—"
"Enough. As a loyal dog, I know when to come when I've been called." Kaden turned, turning around the entrance to enter from the window.
"Kaden."
His name felt odd coming from the Organizer's disguised voice.
"Everybody only wants to save you."
Kaden paused in his step, and shook his head with a scoff. "I don't know what you know, or what you're implying. But I don't want any saving, not from you or anybody."
The Organizer was left outside, expression masked. He lowered his head thoughtfully, kicking a pebble and watching it skitter across the ground, further than he expected. Then, the man sighed.
He rummaged in his pockets and unfolded a slip of paper.
"What can I do? I'm no snitch, but it looks like I'll be leaving somebody a little letter."
He laughed to himself, a muffled sound smothered by the wind, and fell silent. He gazed once more at the now open window to one of the tavern's rooms, the chatter of laughter coming from inside that was formed of anxiety and the impending sense of death.
There would be a bloodbath tonight, he suspected. And it wasn't that he didn't care, but that his caring did nothing. For a man that knew so much, he was helpless in Kaden's unwillingness.
The Organizer kicked another stone among the fog of the night, scowling.
Inside the building, Kaden lounged around the shadows, waiting to play his part. Reed smiled—a sinister curve.
"Now, we've had our fun but I'm sure you've been waiting for my announcement." Reed didn't speak loudly, but the timber of his voice resonated around the room, silencing all chatter. His smile didn't falter as he strode to the front calmly.  "Are you curious?"
One man trembled and collapsed to his knees. There were only four there of the various others involved—some had run, and that would be their undoing.
Some still wore calculating expressions, determining how to escape alive.
"There's been some rumours that I've heard. They disappoint me." continued the Crown Prince without care. "After my generosity to you all."
His smile flattened and he stood impassive.
"How dare you dream of betraying me?"
"We d-didn't! We wouldn't dare!" cowered the one on his knees, silence by the cold sweep of Reed's gaze.
The man smiled as if he were to forgive them before his hands drew an arc across the air, rocks scattering across the ground. At first, confusion stirred between the men before sounds began to play from the rocks.
Recording stones! The blood drained from their faces as they heard their own voices berate and scold the prince, for his lacking funds and his arrogant behaviour.
Different conversations sounded over each other, chaos and anxiety stirring in the air.
"Why should we keep following him? We ought to save our skins first!" A clear voice rang out; it belonged to the cowering man. "Let's just take his money and escape first!"
Reed gazed at the man calmly. "You'll take my money and escape?"
"I didn't—I've been framed!"
"Denying the truth displayed before you. What an excellent coward you are." Reed clapped his hands, quietly gazing them as if he stood on an alter and they were merely ants scattered on the ground. "I've had enough of you all. Thank you for your service."
That was Kaden's sign. From the shadows, a slender figure peeled away from the walls and slowly entered the room, offering a little wave.
"Why," smiled Kaden widely. "We meet again."
"You—"
Kaden didn't give him a second to speak, swiftly leaping over and watching his blade glide across the man's exposed neck. His words gurgled and hatred burned in his gaze.
The next deaths were in quick succession without a moment for them to speak.
It happened within what felt like seconds, mere moments of time.
A few seconds to end a life. Kaden's stomach rolled as he stared at the slumped bodies, and his hand trembled slightly.
"You appear to be in a rush." remarked Reed. "They were talking to you, didn't you hear? Was it something you didn't want me to hear?"
Kaden's head hung low and he turned his chin slightly. "You demanded their deaths, Reed. I know better than to waste your glorious time. Don't you value speed and efficiency?"
Reed regarded him quietly. "I do."
Silence rolled before them and Kaden's face grew paler, an illness twisting in the pits of his stomach. All his senses, clouded by the heavy stench of blood. The weight of the lives piling on him, dragging him to the ground.
"You're dismissed," said Reed, turning away. His eyes flickered to the door briefly, as if he'd seen something outside. "Go on. I don't want to look at you anymore."
Kaden's mouth opened and closed. He didn't want to wait for the prince to change his mind, bowed sarcastically and stiffly left the room—the corpses and the observing crown prince. Reed scrunched his nose at the bodies, shaking his head.
The moment Kaden's feet touched the cold of the outside ground, and the door closed before him, he dashed into the forest at the end of the path, through the streets.
He felt his breath crowd his lung and spill out into gasps, dashing through the streets until he was under the confines of the lush forest leaves, the gentle sway that shielded him from the outside world.
His body convulsed, shaken as he cursed himself under his breath.
Strange, when he'd killed more than this in one sitting before. Stranger, when he was all too used to the smell of blood and death.
The man bent over against a tree, gasping. His nails dug into his shirt, clawing as if the sole thing that could give him relief was the solace of death. Saliva dripped onto the ground but he couldn't throw up, not the feelings or the anxiety in his stomach.
Of course he couldn't—he'd barely eaten. There was nothing but acid and bile.
It was all a mistake. Allowing weakness and vulnerability to contaminate his mind, to make his weak and pathetic. Before, pretending that anxiety was a hoax and drifting like a ghost had done wonders to his success.
His thoughts spiralled. Worry about being caught, about these ugly acts of his being uncovered. Of the scorn in his friends' gaze, the twisted expressions that would no longer see him fondly.
His vision spun, dotted with black spots that blurred the shadows of the trees.
Kaden's hand slipped, his mind spinning into darkness as his body slumped. There, within the trees, a masked man held the unconscious sinner.
Gently, they lifted the man into his arms, feeling the lightness of his body. "Chauvet," muttered the man bitterly. "Why do you submit yourself to such torture?"
"He can't forgive the sins of his past."
The masked man looked up at the Organizer, his hat tipped with a leisure smile playing at his lips. However, when his gaze briefly landed on Kaden, his smile faltered.
"That sinner you're holding will do anything to escape your grasp. If he loved you less, he would stay with you longer." A short laugh. "Ironic, isn't it? Emotions never make much sense."
"Who are you?"
"And you? We're both people wearing masks, aren't we?" The Organizer shrugged carelessly. "Take him back to the Academy. Get some rest."
The dark gaze bored into the Organizer, quietly scrutinizing every line of the other's body. Then, he nodded and turned away, fleeing into the night with a sinner held closely in his arms.
———xxx———
It was easy to assimilate oneself back into their regular routine, regardless of their mental of physical state. After waking up in his bed, with a frowning dragon watching him, Kaden had smiled blankly and denied any issues.
If he turned off all emotions and thoughts, he could repeat the same actions daily. He could do what was expected of him.
Time continued to pass. Noah seemed to grow more irritated and restless by the day, and with every claim of normalcy, but Kaden couldn't say anything.
Next, would he be ordered to kill that dragon?
Next, would his existence become a burden? Would it be a liability?
He hadn't feared it so much before, knowing and believing in the capabilities of his friends. But Bolivia too had been a powerful and capable ally, and what of her? What of her demise at the strange effects of the blood injection?
Kaden couldn't forget her—the shriveled and wrinkled heap that was once a voluminous and sarcastic woman—or those bodies he found in that basement.
If it were Noah, wings broken and empty sockets to replace his deep gaze. If it were Niklas, the vitality drained from his face and drooping skin. If it were Nicola, if it were Holly. If it was Arlo, the small body bent in several directions with jutting white bones.
Kaden dashed to the bathroom and bent over the sink, spit and bile splattering into the sinks.
He lifted his sunken gaze to the mirror, taking in his pathetic appearance. They were probably worried, if Noah's constant questioning didn't ascertain that.
Why did they remain by him, a sunken and gloomy man that for all his lofty aspirations, could barely hold his stomach at the thought of blood?
Reed's orders continued to come, picking off the remaining of his allies.
The deaths of nobles couldn't go unnoticed, the news of serial murders scrawled across the daily paper in town. Kaden ignored it all. His actions became sloppier, and he was caught upon scaling the wall by one of his classmates.
Kaden stood at Raymond's office, the curious professor staring at him in exasperation.
"Mr. Chauvet. I truly value your character. It's really wonderful seeing you change and grow along with your friends—friends and youth are really wonderful things—ah, I'm getting distracted." Raymond cleared his throat and sighed.
"Unfortunately, you've been caught returning from who knows where, without permission. Am I right to assume this isn't the first time?"
Kaden stared at him dully, and shook his head. "I apologize. I was summoned back to the palace and had no time to request leave. I... I can't disobey my summons."
"...I know the palace situation is complicated. But Mr. Chauvet, your identity doesn't make you an exception to the Academy rules. I'm sorry."
Raymond rummaged through his desk, grabbing something and pressing it into Kaden's palm. It was a small, wrapped candy. The professor smiled sheepishly.
"This is all I have on me. I'll let it slide this once, understood?"
Kaden's fingers curled around the candy tightly and he nodded. "Understood."
"I know the end of the year gets busy, but take care of yourself. Youth doesn't last forever. Although that's the beauty of living, you should still enjoy your flexible and growing body while it lasts. As you know—"
The ramble began and Kaden nodded mindlessly.
And one week later, a certain pink-haired fool collapsed.