1


    Frey stirred in her sleep before slowly waking up to see the pale moon-man close by. She shot up and frantically looked around, wincing silently at the pain in her chest and her back. Am I at the bottom? she thought, as she gazed up at the never-ending trunks far above her. She wondered about two more things: How am I alive? And why am I naked? The latter scared her more. She threw her hand down to check if she was still virtuous, touching upon her vagina for a second before checking her finger, feeling tears come to her eyes. The yellow scales were still yellow. She was virtuous, still. She smiled at the small blessing and wiped her finger on the cloth covering her, staring at the sleeping giant in suspicion.


    The fire was weak but there were small logs nearby, ready to be put to use. Darkness meant death, she knew. She had no idea what was lurking about, but that didn’t mean she was keen to find out. An open bag sat inches from the pale one, the hilt of a small dagger poking out.


    She rose, holding the blanket close to her bare body and inched closer, her right hand outstretched for the weapon. She could stab him in the neck and keep the blade there, which might kill him. She didn’t even know if he could be killed, but she wasn’t going to wait for him to wake up either. What did he want with her? He bandaged her wounds, and she could taste a bitter potion and sour fruits on her tongue, which she guessed were the only reasons she was still alive. But she didn’t know why. I’m going to slit your throat, she promised, taking small, deliberate steps. For Gult. It doesn’t matter if you suffer anymore. As long as you’re dead, I’ll be happy. She was just two feet from him and the bag, and she could feel the hate pump through her heart. The moon-man’s face was bloody, naked save for the blanket he wrapped himself in, and he looked worried but calm. Sleeping like a baby… That’s fine, she thought, kneeling. She reached for the hilt, her left hand holding the cloth above her chest, and held her breath. Slogine had taught her to announce herself before trying to take a life, but she wasn’t doing this for honor. My name is Frey. Buta was my mother. Slogine, my father. And Gult, my brother. And you are nothing… He didn’t deserve any courtesies. Her hand was just an inch away from the dagger and she could already see the blood pour out his throat…


    “Don’t touch that,” he said.


    She stopped.


    He was awake and staring at her, his black eyes drinking in all light. “Looks like you''re awake,” he said, covering his tired face for a moment. “I’d say good morning, but I don''t know what time it is.” He redirected his attention to the trunks stretching far above. “I don’t even know how long we’ve been sleeping.” He pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring how close she was to the bag, and how easy it’d be for her to pull the dagger out and make an attack. Did he think she wouldn’t do it? “I’m still tired… Shit,” he rubbed his eyes, “how’re you feeling?”


    “Why am I naked?” she asked.


    His face grew red. Not with anger, but either some kind of shame or embarrassment. “You fell in a pond. I needed to take off your clothes, or else you’d have frozen to death,” he explained. He pulled the bag away from her casually and started to dig through it. Why hadn’t she moved? She just let him take her only weapon away. “They’re right next to you, but I’d doubt they’re dry with how cold it is down here.”


    Somehow she missed how that the dress had been laid out near the fire, but in her defense, there was a scattering of leaves on it. “We’re at the bottom?” She had no idea why she asked… She knew where she was.


    “Yep,” he said. He handed her some dried meat and fruit.


    She took them quickly and ate them, glaring at him all the while. He started to eat his own portion. Then, he threw more logs into the fire and caused the area to go from dim to bright, which she was thankful for.


    “How do you apologize in your culture?” he asked.


    She didn''t answer.


    “Listen, I already know what you’re trying to do,” the moon-man said, leaning forward. “You’re trying to find the perfect opening to take me out.”


    She didn''t answer.


    “You won''t find that opening with me. So just calm down and get ready to talk. If you don’t, we might die of boredom before anything else.”


    “Kill yourself and we’ll be even,” she declared, moving her clothing a small bit closer to the flames to dry.


    He chuckled a bit. “That… that I can''t do…”


    “Then drop it. You''ll have no forgiveness from me!” Frey said. “Turn. I’m going to change…” He did. It was still fairly damp, but she didn''t feel comfortable staying naked in front of him. She didn’t feel comfortable staying naked in a monster-infested pit in general.


    “That''s not really what I’m after,” he said, getting up to lazily stretch.


    She immediately jumped to her feet and brought her talons ahead of her in a fighting stance. Vincenzo held his hands up by his shoulder, palms facing her, not making another move.


    “Listen, I don''t want to piss you off anymore. But what do you think you’re gonna do? You’re not even five feet, and I doubt you’re packing much muscle in those noodle arms,” he said. “If we’re being honest, I think I could snap you in half. Literally. So don’t, ‘cause I’m not.”


    An amber Glow enveloped her without a word. His unimpressed expression did not change. Frey had only just started training in the art of bringing out the mana circulating throughout her body, so she could only manage a meager layer of barely an inch. He was right. Her ribs hurt, her back was on fire, and the consequences were coming. She needed him, if only for the moment. If not, whatever injuries she had were about to become much worse.


    2


    Vincenzo noticed that the clock hanging over her head before was back, but it was slightly different. Instead of a single arm ticking and adding color to its surface, it was just a flat red with a number in the middle, kind of like a digital watch. It read: two-hundred-and-ten. He wondered what it meant for a moment, feeling in his gut that there wouldn’t be a fight at all. He was more than okay with that.


    “I kind of like that look on her face,” Eyes said, stepping out from behind him.


    Vincenzo jolted before regaining his composure. Frey’s looks softened as she raised an eyebrow in confusion. Don’t worry about him, he told himself. Getting on her good side is the important part. “That other lady… The one with the rocky skin; she should be fine.”


    “How do you know that?” she asked, skeptical.


    “An annoying asshole of a hallucination just screamed right in my ear. It’s really pissing me off at this point,” he said. “And unless you could see it too, that means she''s still alive.”


    She stared at him without a word before lowering her hands, the amber light dissipating as she did. She hugged herself and started to shiver, her dress still too damp and thin for their environment. They clung to her body in a vulgar sort of way, he thought, so he averted his eyes.


    “I don''t feel bad about killing your brother,” he said.


    She kept her silent anger. For a moment, he thought a laser would shoot out of her eyes and blow his brain apart just like Boon tried to. That was how hard she glared.


    “It was a fight to the death—a literal fight to the death, mind you—and not one I started. But instead of begging for his own life he begged for yours,” he said, tying the bag around his waist. “I''ve killed a good number of people and that''s the first time that''s happened. I don''t know what it was… Maybe I’m getting soft… But I ended up saying yes. And that''s why we’re here. That’s why I—the evil moon-man, the son of some all-powerful asshole who’s the king of everything, the dickhead—jumped down to save you! I saved your ass, patched you up, and fed you. So can you just calm down?”


    There wasn''t a negative expression on her face anymore, only a blank one.


    “If there is one thing I’m sorry for… it''s your wings…” he muttered. “I-I''m sorry… I lost control of myself and crippled you because of it… So, I’m sorry… It was…” But he stopped. Blaming it on a hallucination, no matter how real it seemed, was bullshit. Was he going crazy? He had just blacked out, and when he came to… “Forget it.”


    “Fuck you…” she said, but there was more sadness than anger in it. “That''s why you had to cut his head off, right?! And flaunt it?!”


    “If I hadn''t done that, then you’d have killed me up there,” he said. “The reason I’m apologizing to you is because we need to work together. We’re at the bottom of an abyss that''s full of giant goddamned insects, and if we’re fighting the entire time: we’re dead. And I don’t want to die because I don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to die because I made a fucking promise! And I intend on keeping it.”


    “So what?” she said. “I was hanging off your neck for a reason. If I fell too, I wouldn’t have cared. As long as you’re dead, I’ll be happy.”


    “And I tossed that chain away. I don’t care whether you’re ecstatic or miserable.” He stepped closer.


    She brought her hands back up as if it was a challenge. It was definitely some sort of stance, but he couldn''t trace it to anything on earth, only link it to some amateur-looking karate.


    “I''m never going to kill you,” he said, stopping to give her about five feet of space. “But you’re allowed to kill me.”


    That confused her.


    “You''re going to have an infinite number of chances to do it if we get out of here alive—but if you fuck up on trying to kill us both now, then I’ll be the one walking free,” he explained. “Oh, and you fucked up. You kind of went in this half-awake, half-asleep daze where you tried to drag me down here by tying us together and falling off. But you tied it so shit that you fell off the edge alone.” He smiled and furrowed his brows. “Actually, that wouldn’t have even worked if it was tied well. You weigh nothing compared to me. You would’ve just hung there before I pulled you back up. I jumped after you; not before.”


    She opened her mouth, fury on her face, and Vincenzo got ready to argue—but then it closed. She stared, feigning anger, her lip quivering, her big, beautiful green eyes welling up. Soon, she couldn’t even pretend to be angry. “I’m a failure…” she said, tears rolling down her pink cheeks. She knelt down, hugging her knees as she began to quietly sob.


    Vincenzo watched her cry for a second before realizing it was time to say something… anything. “You’re not a failure,” he said, coming even closer. There were two feet between them then, but she made no move away. She was too busy sniffling and wiping her wet cheeks. “You killed me more times than I could count.”


    “What?” she asked, looking up at him. “What are you talking about?” She sniffled.


    He pretended not to notice how truly beautiful she was and averted his eyes, knowing it was a very wrong thing to think. “Well, you’ve cracked my bones, smashed my organs, destroyed my throat, and probably something else I’m missing…” he explained. “And you still had the balls to say you failed… You didn''t fail… I just cheated.” He chuckled softly. “Me and this other moon-man tried to kill each other when we first showed up, and I can’t begin to tell you how fucking big this guy was. He was huge! He killed me more times than I could count, but you know why I’m standing here? ‘Cause I cheated.” He let the smile fade. “Gult killed me too. But I cheated. I’m a cheater, Frey. I don’t know why, but I don’t face the same consequences you do.” He extended his hand. “Let''s get out of here,” he said. “Together. You can kill me later.”


    Frey stared at his hand. He knew that she saw it as the hand that killed her brother, which was also fine with him. He wouldn’t have it any other way. “I’ll cooperate on one condition…” she said, standing up on her own.


    There were only eight inches between them at that point. “What condition?” he asked, bringing his hand back to his side.


    “Tell me how to kill you.”


    He was surprised for only a second, and then he smiled. He extended his hand again. “Deal!”


    They shook hands. Frey had a large grin on her face but there was murder in her eyes. Her scaly hand felt rough and strange, yet also dry and warm. They broke off and stepped back.


    “Just set me on fire and smash my head open over and over,” Vincenzo said.


    “What?”


    “I’m weak to burns; I heal from my head. So do those two things and you''ll kill me in no time. Probably…”


    Eyes, who’d just been watching, frowned and stepped into Vincenzo’s view. “Jesus Christ! You want to tell her when we stopped pissing the bed, too?! Fucking dumbass…”


    An awkward silence filled the air as the two stood still, giving the occasional glance to each other before averting their eyes to the darkness around them.


    “So… What is the plan?” she finally asked. “How are we getting out of here?”


    “No idea…” he admitted.


    Another silence passed. “Wait… You gave me that entire speech about how we have to work together to get out of here… and you didn''t even have a plan?”


    “Pretty much,” he said. “My only real plan is to keep walking forward and hope we find the exit. It''s way too high to climb…”


    “Ah… We might run into a problem there,” she said, looking off into the darkness ahead of them.


    “Don''t worry, we’ll bring torches to keep any creeps away.”


    “No, it''s not that… Feather Falling works differently than you think. It creates a window of time where I can make things weightless, and there isn''t a limit to what I could do in that time…”


    “I was wondering how you were doing it for so long.”


    “Yes, but that doesn''t mean there aren''t any consequences. I’ve done too much in my timeframe and now I have to pay the price,” she said. “Let me ride on your back to show you.”


    He looked at her, slightly confused by her request; he still followed it. She was light as a bird, he thought. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and locked them.


    “I feel it coming along now…” she said, looking up at the clock.


    “Feel wha—” he started. Two hundred pounds of extra weight pulled him down! His knees almost buckled as he tried to regain his footing, but he won through in the end. “Jesus!” he yelled. “Cosa diavolo?!”


    “That''s what I was talking about,” she said, her left cheek already pressing hard against the back of his neck. “For the next long while, we’ll be stuck like this.”


    “I get why you weigh a shit-ton, but why me?” he asked.


    “It spreads between living beings,” she said. “If I wasn''t holding onto you, then all the weight would be on me. And with my injuries—”


    “You’d be dead.” He clicked his tongue before laying down on his stomach on top of the blanket. She moved her arms and legs out from under him and he immediately became aware of the feel of her: the softness of her breasts pressed up against his back; the fullness of her lips on his neck; and even the texture of her scales was welcome. It turned him on, and it was wrong. The fact that Eyes was into it made him even more sure of that fact. He took a breath in and exhaled it slowly, calming himself down as much as he could. “So we’re grounded, then?”


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    “Pretty much…” she confirmed. She struggled to turn over with a series of grunts and “accidental” stabs into Vincenzo’s back, eventually managing to lay down with her face to the impossibly high trees above. It was infinitely better than before, even if he could feel her ass on his lower back.


    “How’s your ribs?”


    “Bad,” she said, wincing. “What happened to them? I don’t remember getting hit by you…” He could hear her frown. “Apart from the end.”


    “I broke a couple during CPR.”


    “CPR?”


    “Thirty chest compressions and… Well, just chest compressions,” he lied.


    “You touched my chest?!” she said, pressing her talons into his skin.


    He flinched. “Calm down, I just needed to get the water out of your lungs!”


    She watched him out of the corner of her eye, retracting her talons, apparently satisfied with his answer. “If you were getting the liquid out, then you must''ve given me the kiss of life too…”


    He froze up and wondered why she didn''t sound furious. “You aren''t angry?” he asked, embarrassed. He didn’t know why he felt that way, but he did.


    “I’m going to kill you later, aren''t I? I can be angry later…” she said. But there was something in her voice that made him feel even more guilty, even if it was the only thing he could do to save her life. “This will last for a couple of hours, so I’ll be sleeping…”


    He craned his neck to look at the clock. It read: two-hundred-and-nineteen. And about a minute had passed since the weight came. Three-and-a-half hours, he realized.  “Alright,” Vincenzo grunted, staring into the black that stretched for miles out of camp. “Goodnight.”


    3


    Time passed and the fire got small again. He thought about sleeping, but that was too dangerous an idea to do anything more than just think. He needed to be awake. Awake and ready.


    “Wow!” his hallucination said from out in the dark.


    Vincenzo almost got up before remembering Frey was on his back.


    It rose slowly from the murky pond and approached him. But unlike Frey, there wasn’t a stain of black scum on his white and naked body. It sat down and smiled. Vincenzo hated the fact they looked the same, especially because it’s smiles always managed to convince him that he was the ugliest thing breathing.


    “What do you want?” Vincenzo said coldly. The weight had lessened, but it was still too great to comfortably raise his head.


    “Are you still mad about the wings?” it asked. It furrowed both black brows in confusion. “Because she deserved it! I''m not apologizing if they deserve it…”


    “Enjoy that time you took control; you aren''t getting another chance.” The image of the girl, her back bloody and her face dazed, was still stuck in his head. “I’d kill myself before I’d let you do that again.”


    It chuckled. “I don''t know about that… Fire will work for a bit, but how long will that be? I honestly think we’re immortal. Even if we’re burnt to a crisp, I’d bet we’d come back. It’d take a while sure—way, way, way, way longer than usual, probably by a couple hours rather than seconds—but we’d be fine. Plus, when I take control, I’m gonna give her what else she deserves…” It squeezed itself with a lecherous grin.


    Vincenzo glared at it, trying not to show how much the eyes covering its body unnerved him. He guessed he wasn’t that convincing. “What the hell do you mean by that?”


    “People are made of two things…” it started, leaning back to hide its face in the dark. “Experiences—positive or negative. And whatever they''re born with. Nature and nurture. I won’t bore you with the details ‘cause I know you know about it. I know you already understand.” Its voice got lower, and there was a rumble in his tone that made Vincenzo realize it was getting serious; that this was how “serious” sounded to it. To him, it sounded menacing. “People like to argue about which one matters more, but it doesn''t really matter. It''s the combination that counts, obviously.” It paused for a moment and studied him. “I''m nature,” it stated. “I don''t have any of your baggage or anything like that. I’m the most basic desire… If that bastard Marco didn’t raise you, and if you weren''t molested… Ha! Isn''t that crazy to think? Getting fucked as a kid actually made you a better person. Jesus, that''s fucked… It’s like a thief getting his house robbed and learning that, ‘Hey, gettin’ my shit stolen is kind of fucked!’ Yeah, that’s actually exactly it.”


    He hated it. It only ranked just under the bastard it referred to on his list of people he truly hated. “So?” Vincenzo said. “What''s your goal? What do you want from me? Why are you still here?”


    “I just want you to accept what you are,” it claimed. “All the rest of this…” It looked at Frey, but Vincenzo guessed it was referring to everything he was trying to do. “It''s just a distraction, isn''t it? I’m the real you.”


    “No, you’re not. You’re just some instinct in the back of my mind. Something I’ve outgrown,” Vincenzo said, his voice soft as to not wake the girl on his back. “You’re nothing.”


    “See, now that''s the interesting part! You’d be right if it was just some dark thought that you’d dismissed immediately, but that''s not the case. Why deprive yourself? I already know everything about you, so there''s no point in not mentioning it… But I’m going to anyway. Why haven''t you cum in two whole years? Who do you think you’re protecting?”


    He didn''t answer.


    “After you lost your virginity, you never jacked off, had sex, or even tried. Why is that?” it questioned with a knowing smile. “Was it punishment? Yes, that was a part of it… but there was something else. When you were fucking, what was the best part? I''ll tell you: it was the beginning when she wasn''t used to it—when it hurt. You slowly lost interest when she began to enjoy herself… Do you want to know why? Because it isn''t something you understand either…” It waited for a response with a quiet and smug smile.


    “Enlighten me…” It seemed like it was going to tell him anyway.


    It didn''t speak for a moment as it reveled in the pleasure of keeping the secret. “We live to take,” it said. “That''s what our blood is: a family of takers. But don’t feel bad. Takers are the winners in the game of life. And by a wide margin.”


    Vincenzo glowered, quiet.


    “Ya’ know it. I know it. It''s the truth…” it said, leaning closer. “This is something you will never escape.” Then it leaned back, satisfied. “I''m getting stronger, ya’ know… If you need proof: open your eyes.”


    They shut; he tried to open them but found himself unable. His eyes wouldn''t open, no matter how much he tried. It was almost like they’d been glued shut. “W-what?! What the hell did you do?!”


    “Slowly but surely, I’m getting stronger. I’m like a parasite or something,” it laughed. “Don''t confuse what I''m doing for some kind of hatred for you; after all, we’re the same person.”


    His eyes finally opened, but not due to his effort—it allowed them to open. “Then why can''t you just leave me alone?”


    “Because you’re squandering your potential,” it said. “And this is a world where that potential could be fully realized. Back on Earth, you were a slave to your fragile body. One shot; one stab; a disease; hell, even a hard enough punch could take you out. But now… now you’re immortal. Nothing can stop you.” It seemed almost proud. “Our dad is proof of that. He’s the king of everything.” It let that last statement hang before continuing with even more gusto. “We are takers! That’s what separates us from the rest of the stupid sheep of the world! And we didn’t choose to be takers, NO, we were born takers! The only thing that can stop us is death and violence, but now we’re above even that. If you want it, take it. Take someone''s money if you’re feeling poor. Take someone''s life if you don’t feel like they shouldn’t have one.” It leaned even closer, just inches from his face. The black eyes on its cheeks, shoulders, and chest staring at him with the same glee in their master’s eyes. “If you want a woman, take her—tears and all. The struggle will make it even sweeter; I promise you that.” It leaned even closer, resulting in just a couple centimeters to separate them, its black eyes terrible. He hated them. Vincenzo detested everything about it. “All you have to do is let me take over. I’m the path to happiness. To fulfillment. You felt empty because you never got the chance to take. I can be that chance.” It finally backed up and stood, a look of faint disappointment and excitement on its ugly face. “I can look inside your mind, Vincenzo. I could see you still don''t believe me, or don’t want to believe me. Whatever. In the end, I’ll make sure we’re happy. Morality is a construct. It’s kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. Fuck or be fucked. See you later.”


    It dematerialized into a cloud of ivory smoke.


    Eyes was about to take the top spot on his hating list. He hated the way its eyes sucked in light, the way it smiled, the way it laughed, the way it talked, the fact that it existed. Every word was shit—a bad lie. He loved her. Vincenzo knew he loved Alice. He knew it because of how much he missed her, and how much he hated himself for what happened. He loved the red of her frizzy hair, her green eyes, and even the extra weight that made holding her feel so nice. He even came to love the hook in her nose that he found off-putting the first time he saw her. He loved making love to her. He wasn’t bored. He loved making her feel good. And he hated the small gasps of pain and tears that came when he pushed in her for the first time. Eyes was nothing but a liar.


    The light died for a moment, striking fear into him, before rising up again and filling the area in a dull glow. He’d have to throw some more wood in soon. Best not to think of it, he thought, realizing just how little the girl on his back weighed. How long we got? He looked up and behind him to try and find the clock above her head, but there was nothing. Frey seemed to be sleeping deeply. He carefully twisted his body, trying to set her down on the dry leaves that piled next to them without waking her, and managed to succeed, lying her on her side so she wouldn’t put any weight on her back. She didn’t look like she was in pain. She looked like she was angry, even in sleep. He waved the pink hair covering her face away and studied her expression, self-conscious of how creepy that made him. I’m just curious, he told himself. Whether that was true or not, he didn’t know. He definitely felt something from looking at her, but whether it was pity, appreciation, or something darker, he couldn’t tell.


    Her eyebrows were narrowed, her eyes shut tight, her lips frowning. What was she dreaming about? Probably killing me, he thought. He didn’t like her expression at all. Was that how I looked? Is that the face Pasha saw? No, mine was worse. He would’ve looked into my eyes. At least here, hers are closed. Gult saw my face when he died. That was why he didn’t hold anything against her, even when her goal was sacrificing Plum to his father. If he refused her, what did that make him? The only reason he was there was because he wanted revenge, and him being there resulted in saving Plum. That had to mean something.


    “Hey, wake up…” he whispered, poking her shoulder.


    She stirred awake and threw his hand away. “What do you want?”


    “You weigh a lot less, you don’t need to touch me anymore,” said Vincenzo.


    “Why wake me? You manage to set me down without doing that…”


    He looked at her blankly, realizing his mistake. “Oh! Yeah, sorry…” he said. “Go back to sleep.”


    She kept an eye on him as she rolled onto her back and laid the back of her head on her palms, apparently numb to the pain. Vincenzo watched as he snacked on a bit of dried meat. The skirt of her dress only ended above her knee, and the fabric itself wasn’t rigid at all. He could see every delicate curve, the shape of her breast, the very light swell of her stomach, and even the dip in her navel. Why couldn’t she have been ugly? He concentrated on the darkness surrounding them instead.


    She opened her eyes and looked over to him. “Hey, I’ve got a question.”


    He looked over to her and made sure not to make any kind of eye contact. The color of her eyes reminded him a bit of Alice’s, and considering how he was feeling, that wasn’t a great thing. “I thought you went to sleep?”


    “I’m not in the mood now that you’ve woken me,” she said, sounding annoyed. “I’ve gotten strong enough.”


    He could hear the curiosity in her—even though she was attempting to sound threatening—soothing voice. For a second he thought he might be falling in love with her, but he discarded that instantly. He knew it was because she was an attractive and, to his discomfort, voluptuous woman in a white dress that clung to her tight. A dress so thin he could see the hint of her soft, pink skin underneath… That, and the beast was right. He hadn''t touched himself or a woman in two years.


    Am I lonely? he asked himself. He’d never considered it. After what happened to him as a child, the idea of sex and everything along with it repulsed him. And for the first fifteen years of his life, that was fine. But then he met Alice. And after Alice… well, he kept ignoring it. And it was fine then, too. But was it really? he questioned. Or was I just never near any? That had some truth to it too. When Geno enlisted him, he still acted as if he didn’t want anything like that. But now, on top of his past, he didn’t think it was fair—fair to Alice. Why did he get to find pleasure in someone, when she’d never get to do anything with anyone ever again? So he never accompanied the group to a whorehouse even after an invitation, but it went even beyond that—he didn’t interact with any woman. He didn’t even talk to the men. Yes, that’s it, he thought, feeling hopeless and disgusted with himself. I’m just a creep. Was Eyes right about that part? Did he want Frey? He threw one more glance at her and retreated his vision up. Yes, I do. He couldn’t even look at her without stripping her in his mind. But it doesn’t matter whether he was right or not, he decided. He was wrong about the important part. I’m not going to touch her. I know I won’t. I’m just sex deprived. He was a little happy with that. He wouldn’t touch Frey. He was a bad guy, but he wasn’t like that. He wasn’t that bad. And, for the moment, he could ignore that side of himself.


    “Yeah…” he said, pretending to take interest in the bark of a nearby tree. “Ask away.”


    She rolled onto her side again and rested her head on a scaled hand. “Who are you?”


    “Hm?”


    “From these small interactions, I can tell you aren''t a complete monster. There''s some vestige of compassion within you…”


    “Thanks, I guess,” he said.


    “It wasn''t meant as praise. It was just an observation. I just want to know how you could kill Gult and also try your damndest to save some kid you barely know,” she said. “Make it make sense to me.”


    He didn''t answer. He was too busy thinking about that himself. Who was he? What was he even doing?


    “Well?” she said, impatient.


    “Like my life story? ‘Cause I don''t think I could pin it down to one specific thing…” he replied.


    “Go ahead. After all, we''ve got time to slay,” she answered, closing her eyes.


    “Alright,” he said with a smile. “But there''s only one thing I need to share. But I’ll warn you: it''s long. So get comfortable.”


    4


    Vincenzo remembered one event that he could attribute to changing the entire course of his life, and why that life ended up so short. He remembered the fast, dark drive into the forest, the sweat on Marco’s forehead and his heavy breathing, and the wooden house they pulled up to. And he remembered him: the heavy man with muscular arms, red hair on the sides of his head with none on the top, a hook in his nose, a scar running down his left eye, and one green eye. He remembered how he didn’t like him from the start. Marco took him from the car and walked him over to the man.


    “That him?” the man on the porch said.


    “Do you really have to do this?” Marco had asked. “This is sick, Lenny.” Vincenzo clung to Marco’s leg and hid from the stranger. Marco looked from the stranger to his son and back at the stranger. “Come on, Lenny. We were friends once. This is sick. This isn’t going to make you feel any better.”


    Lenny walked from the porch. “Once,” he corrected. “You were a friend once. What are you now? Nothing but a degenerate junkie. Is. That. Him?”


    Marco looked at him for a long time before dropping his gaze. “Yes.”


    “Give him here.”


    Vincenzo protested, hiding behind Marco with tears in his eyes. Even though he had no idea what was in store, he still knew that the man, Lenny, was a bad man.


    But Marco pushed him forwards anyways, and the man clasped a strong hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, Marco,” Lenny said. “After this, it’s over. Debts are cleared. Crimes absolved.”


    Marco didn’t look like he believed that. “You won’t hurt him, right?”


    “Don’t be stupid,” Lenny growled. “He’s going to get hurt. Nothing permanent, though, like we agreed.”


    Vincenzo started to cry.


    Lenny gripped his shoulder tighter. “Best leave before this gets difficult. Here.” He handed Marco a paper bag. “I put in some extra.”


    Marco nodded and turned, never looking Vincenzo in the eye as he got in his car and backed away.


    Vincenzo stayed for almost a week. Other men came through as well.


    Twelve years later, at fifteen, he was walking down the street, before his hand shot out and grabbed a woman by the wrist. She had frizzy red hair, a little extra weight, green eyes, freckles that looked like they’d been arranged with a shotgun blast, and a hooked nose. Her name was Alice, and she was nothing like her father. She was timid, and sweet, and nervous, and he hated her like he hated her father, but he didn’t show it. It was the first lead he’d had in years—Marco never explained himself, the asshole—and he was not going to let it go to waste. They went on dates, they kissed, and they said they loved each other. Vincenzo was sure that Alice loved him, but at the time, he didn’t care. The thought of killing Lenny was all he cared about.


    At least until half a year passed. There wasn’t any great event that changed his feelings on the girl, but his feelings did change. If there was anything he could attribute it to, it would be the times she’d come over to his apartment—always when Marco was working, Vincenzo knowing that he’d recognize her—and they’d watch random movies and shows. He remembered the moment his heart first jumped when he was with her, and it was when she sat on his lap and kissed him gently on the cheek. He’d been kissed a thousand times like that before, but for some reason, it felt different that time. He kissed her back, deep on the lips, and felt the jolt again. Then, she rested her head on his shoulder with a cute smile, her red hair in his face, and he watched the show with a strange sense of detachment. He tried to shove these feelings down and discredit them, but he couldn’t, and they got stronger… Just like his hunger for his true goal.


    One night, on their eleven-month anniversary, he finally decided to seal the deal. Over their months together he learned the following things: her house was on yet another street named Via Roma; it was a mansion with cameras and guards; and her father never left the property. He loved that part. In his mind, Lenny was hiding in fear of him. He was right to be scared, Vincenzo thought. He managed to convince Alice to let him in her home in exchange for more than a kiss. So, on their twelve-month anniversary, he snuck in.


    He loved her, and while she was sleeping, he left her.


    5


    Frey was sitting up at that point. “And then?”


    “And then I found him. He was in this red robe that he hadn’t tied around his stomach, sitting in this fancy chair. He looked different—his hair was grey, he had dark bags under his eyes, he put on even more weight—but he was still instantly recognizable.”


    “Then?”


    He glared at her. “What do you think I fucking did? I tried to kill him. There were some candles lit nearby. They rolled over by some drapes…” He stopped and stood up, looking away with one hand covering his face. “And that’s when the fire started.”


    Frey watched him with wide eyes. “And the girl?” she asked, leaning forward. There was no anger in her voice at that point—only curiosity. “What happened to her?”


    He was silent for a long time, just gazing far into the dark. Finally, after almost a minute, he looked back at her with his black eyes. “She died. I didn’t mean for it to happen.” His voice began to grow hoarse. “But that''s how it happened.” He sat back down, looking defeated. “I just kind of floated around after that… And then some associates of mine killed Marco, and I tried to get revenge again.”


    “And then?”


    “And then I’m here. I did it, but I died. You want to know how I died?”


    She nodded.


    “I burned. Took a flamethrower to the face…” He managed a smile. “And that’s my story. Now tell me, Frey, what do you make of it?”


    The bird-girl didn’t say anything for a long time. “Did you really love her? Truly?”


    He nodded. “I did. I can see that now.”


    “So why did you leave her?” she asked. “You told me you felt happy in bed with her. That you were contemplating just staying in bed with her. What changed?”


    He frowned, running a hand over the short hair growing on his head. “Nothing changed,” he said. “That was the whole thing. It’s what stayed the same that made me sneak out.” He stared into her eyes, a sadness in his own. “I hated him more than I loved her. And now Alice is dead. In my world, I’m dead.” He sighed. “Now I’m here, and trying to figure out why.”