Out of Your Control - a Hermitcraft AU

~ Chapter 14 ~

Iskall opened the door and stepped into his and Grian's room. Grian was sitting on the bed with his wings wrapped tightly around him and his breath coming in jagged gasps.

I swear I will kill whoever did this, he thought, hopping onto the bed with Grian. He looked at him through the tears in his eyes and cried into Iskall.
"I'm so sorry, Grian," he said, looking down at the sobbing hermit. He looked up at Iskall, a flash of deep hatred in his eyes. Iskall felt the same way. That was why he hasn't been crying; he was too angry to.
He hugged Grian, trying to calm him, but there's almost no chance for him to move on. It's been two days since Mumbo's death and, sure, he's been eating and drinking just fine, but Grian never wanted to talk anymore. That hopeful and mischievous hermit was gone.

Grian managed to fall asleep, even though it was still in the morning, but Iskall thought that it'd be a good time for him to rest. He headed downstairs, trying to clear his head and get some fresh air.
Iskall headed out the back door and sat down on the porch. He saw Scar, who was sitting by the garden, look up from his sketch and wave tentatively at him.

The back garden was beautiful. A small pond sat beside a drooping willow and there were bright flowers dotted  everywhere, swaying in the wind. Most were purple and pink, but there was one that stood out from the rest.
A small multi-flowering red plant grew on the outskirts of the yard. Its leaves were shaped like maple leaves, green with red veins. It was tall, about half as tall as Iskall, and when he looked closely, he saw that the actual flower was rather spiky.

Iskallium green, Iskall thought to himself, walking through the garden. It really stuck out, but he could've sworn he had seen it before. Grian should see this place, it's so peaceful. He started to pick up some of the flowers, knowing that Grian loved to make flower crowns. He reached out to the red flower, when a voice called out to him.

"Maybe don't touch that one," Scar said, not looking up from his paper. "I'm, like, ninety percent sure that that's a castor flower, and if I'm right, it's seed are poisonous."

Weird. Then why are they peppered all over the island? Iskall shrugged off that thought, putting space between him and the plant. He started making his way back inside, when he bumped into Zedaph.

"Sorry," he said, his purple eyes staring accusingly at everything around them. "I'm just checking on everyone." And with that he turned and went back inside, while Iskall brought the flowers to Grian.

He was awake when Iskall returned, scolding him for leaving him and making him worry, but stopping seeing the flowers in his hands. He seemed to brighten up, most likely remembering the days when he was a hippie. Within minutes, he had crafted a gorgeous crown of pinks and purples, the stems intertwining. He set the crown on Iskall's head, where it clashed horribly with his mechanical eye. But he didn't care. Grian might actually be happy, mainly because he was giggling, even though there was still a sad glint in his eyes.

But I'll do anything to bring back that happy gremlin.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grian stretched his wings to full length, before taking off. He glided around the garden a couple times, just for exercise. He had been doing little fly-arounds like this every so often, just to defy gravity, to feel free.

But no one is, not here. He sighs, returning to the mansion. 
This is useless. he tries to push away that train of thought; it never ends well.
I can't do this- Grian practically ran into his room, shutting the door behind him. He hated this feeling of hopelessness, and how it overwhelmed him.
I-I can't... h- how easy would it be to join him? If, if I could just...

"I'm sorry, Mumbo," he whispers to himself, feeling tears come.

If I could just... die?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hah! They have no idea! Now, let's see... six down, ten to go. Well, nine, Grian's as good as dead. Probably going to kill himself, the fool. If not, I could help.
Now, what's the best way to do this? Must be quiet, duh, fear inducing and I mustn't leave a trace, god, he'd be so mad if I get caught... 

But, then again, the exhilaration of someone dying below you... I bark a laugh, not worried about those hermits finding my hideout.

Whatever. I can take my time. It's not like there going anywhere. Idiots.

AAaaaAAaAaaaaa! So. First time writing pov of the murdererrrrr
EEEEEEE I'm so excited for how this is turning out!!!
*screaming intensifies*