Silver never really thought he'd start a list of his victims, yet in his head it seemed to be an okay idea. He had scribbled down names, ideas, crossed out Test tube and tapped his pen against the sheet of paper. It had been at least a week since Testy was found in her bathtub and the arms were running low of flesh. Pretty much to the bone with small pieces of muscle and clumps spiralling around the bone structure.
Fairly unconsciously, he picked up a clump he had clawed off of the bone and ate it. Glancing at the bowl he had it in, there were only a few more pieces. He needed the next target soon, or else he might just end up going insane over the flesh desperation.
Silvia turned his focus back to his list, he knew the next would be that lavender freak. She's why he was like this, why his face was broken; imperfect. Candle. In his spare time; besides helping Painty cope with things, he had begun mentally noting down weaknesses and soft spots to get to the wiccan.
Simple. He'd take her to the woods using the backdoor, murder her, take her arms; maybe even have some flesh from her body? Then he'd leave it out there, maybe leaving a sign or something, mainly so vultures wouldn't eat her carcass that much.
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"Candle, I believe I may have some information on what happened to Test tube,"
The candle turned to Silverspoon, who had lurked up behind her and whispered. He had placed his hands on her shoulders, and it seemed like he had something in his pockets too.
"Really?" The wiccan asked in her soothing voice, interested. "Are you going to tell me or must I read your aura, dear?"
The spoon rolled his eyes. "Well I would prefer if we went outside for it, I don't want to concern others,"
Her eyebrow raised in slight suspicion from the spoon's antics, crossing her arms. "We could head to my room if that's what you're concerned of,"
That ticked the cannibal off, he sighed, shaking his head before figuring his words. "But room's aren't soundproof, if we'd go outside there's less of a chance of others overhearing us"
He knew he wasn't convincing the wiccan but he did raise a valid point. She knew something was up with him, Silvia could feel her gaze seep into his aura or soul or... whatever.
"Fine,"
The princely-jerk smirked, "Excellent my dear," before turning-heel and walking to the backdoor of the hotel mainroom. "Come along,"
This had to be quick, she knew something was up. Silverspoon didn't blame her for his scar, the only being he did was Trophy. So why was he doing this to her? She didn't deserve to die for that golden prick's mistake. Why are we here? Let her go. LET HER GO.
"Silver?"
The soothing voice of the wiccan across from him broke his messy thinking, she held a small petalful flower between her fingers. Her eyes laced in concern with a crunched yet professional posture. She belonged in this perfect world. He was going against his own rule of saving perfection. Candle already knew something was up with him, maybe she wasn't going to flip, maybe she could help?
His voice quivered slightly as he spoke. "So Candle-"
"You did it, didn't you?" The wiccan questioned, her voice staying at her usual calm tone. "You killed Test-tube, Silverspoon,"
Silver's eyes widened slightly, a bit in shock but a bit to play into the illusion of innocence. "What?"
The two stood across from each other, the grass of the forest's undergrowth trickling at the utensil's ankles and dandelion seeds flowed gently to the south following the wind. The height difference is shown clear in the conversation, Silver having to look a bit down to look the wiccan in the eyes.
"Dear," She spoke softly, turning her gaze to the flower in hand and spinning it gently. "Please don't lie to me, it hurts seeing someone I care for lying to my face,"
"I." He paused, glancing to his stuffed pockets and to his hands, held into tight fists by his sides. "I admit,"
"I felt it in your aura," The candle looked up, her eyes seemed to glisten slightly. "And I presume I'm next, am I right?"
The spoon felt his knees weaken, like he was about to fall to the floor and beg for forgiveness from her, get his hunger crawled in his skin and scratched at his body. "I'm sorry, dear,"
He couldn't help but get tearful when he saw her smile at him with her own tearful eyes, no sense of fear or distress, nothing but kindness shined. "Then I guess this is it, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, Silvia,"
That name. It stung.
She walked forwards a bit, tucking the flower in a nook of his crack before stepping back, loose tears falling from her eyes as she opened her arms wide. "Whenever you're ready, Silver,"
Idly, one of his hands snaked down to his pocket and pulled one of his clawed gloves into his palms. With a shaking right hand, he put the glove on, not without Candle's eyes watching him. This was her end of the line, and yet another murder tied to the spoon's name. His knees quaked and his head pulsed, blood pumped harshly and he looked back to the woman in front of him.
"I-I don't have to-"
"No, You must," Her words trembled, her smile never going away as she cried. "I can't go on knowing you killed someone, so this must be the end,"
"I can't," Silver felt his own tears well up and fall, his lungs seeming to fail at holding in air. "I can't take your life, Candle,"
"Then maybe I'll do it for you,"
Before he could react, she raced towards him and pulled him into a hold. What he didn't exactly realize right away was that the clawed glove's sharp limbs had pierced her body and stabbed into a few organs. What did make him realize was when she released then jammed herself back in.
"CANDLE!"
Her hands shakingly floated to his hand he was trying to remove from her and pulled it out. "I'm sorry this is how it ends,"
Then raised his gloved hand to where her trachea was and jabbed the silver knives deep into her flesh. Hastily, he unstrapped his glove from his hand and threw it out of the way, helping the wiccan down into the grass. Her throat had welled up in massive amounts of pooling blood, spilling out of her throat and mouth and into the blades of grass.
"Fuck, oh fuck!" The utensil cussed, having his shaking hands hover over her. "Nonononono stop, stop this can't,"
The "on the brink of death" wiccan shuffled her weak hand to his leg and held onto him. Her face never stopped shining with that goddamn happiness, she was happy she was going to die, happy to die to his silverfangs. Yet he couldn't.
Her hand went cold as her face wavered before falling limb. And she was gone. Gone by the hands of Silver, taking her own life in front of him with his weapon. He did this. It was his fault. Silvia's tears fell faster, sobs coming from his mouth. Silver had killed a perfect person.
"Goddamnit. GOD DAMN IT." The cannibal screamed at himself, holding himself with his hands before curling them into his clothed arms. "YOU FUCKED IT ALL UP,"
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Silverspoon ended up actually burying her body. His hunger still ran rampant yet he couldn't bring himself to eat her. Silvia had fucked it all up by killing someone perfect and now this, this was what he'd get for breaking his own rules. Silver would starve cause it's what he deserved for taking her away.
Along the secret grave were rocks and the crystal Candle carried around with her, a rose quartz he had believed she had called it. It laid dormant in the matted ground with perfect rocks and pebbles lining the grave.
Laced next to the rose quartz was the flower she had given him, he couldn't bear to keep it in his crack. Along with that, he had searched around the clearing for other offerings, to show his remorse for the gone life of his rival.
The thrown glove had been recovered and was now stuffed into a pocket, leaving no trace of him being the culprit of her demise. The only thing left was slight blood spills from when she died, it had stained the grass and wasn't exactly the best smelling thing in the world.
And with his remorse and grief for her, he left when the moon began rising. Silvia couldn't go back tonight. Not after what he did.
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