Viper’s broken mask had Abel acting on instinct. Before the pieces could hit the floor he had his own mask freed from his face and gently placed it where hers had just rested. Something in his stomach wasn’t… settling right. He’d love to blame it on the food, but he knew it was something else.
Something a lot more visceral.
Were his moments numbered now? He’d love to stop and wallow in that fear. To panic about how he didn’t want to die—and he’s not a huge fan of getting hurt either. Even still, he didn’t think to remove his mask from her. For a moment he considered if he could hold the pieces of hers to his face—but that wouldn’t do much, and he might as well… Accept this. Try to avoid getting seen instead. If he seemed calm… Maybe she wouldn’t worry.
Or Maybe she’d at least know he didn’t regret his choice to save her over himself.
“Viper.” He talked firmly but quietly—hoping that if he sounded confident she’d listen. She’d believe that he was shaking for some reason… Other than the fear settling in. “Keep the mask on, okay? You don’t need to lie about being alright.” His voice shook with his fear. He wasn’t a good liar. He couldn’t hide his emotions well.
But the resolution in his voice wasn’t a lie—so it stayed clear. “Go. Find Matsukaze, alright? I’ll sneak off to the front rooms so they won’t see me.” He stood her up, dusted her off, and shoved his necklace into her hands before pushing her forward. Towards any grouping of their fellow passengers. “I’ll be safe. I promise.”
And maybe he had no mask to crack—but the passing of the cross said clearly enough to her he wasn’t blind to the reality of what he’s risking.
“I care about you, Viper. Be safe.” He didn’t let her get anything else in. He just took off towards the front room—quick to duck behind things and keep his eyes away from anyone else. Not only because he’d rather not have to see anyone else’s panicking realization—but also because he’d rather not have to look certain death in the eye.
If only he could make it… No one else should have been there, right? He’s close—
A cry rang out, cutting through all the festivities:
”It’s a Passenger!”
The hall went still. Music stopped, the instruments instantly resting in their places as if abandoned by players in the blink of an eye.
The other Denizens, just as frozen in place by the announcement, finally turned their heads in slow, eerie unison towards Abel. Their eyes, already gleaming bright, shone painfully.
They were upon Abel before you could even realize you needed to stop them. Glass skin glowing molten, they swarmed.
”You are not welcome here.”
They clutched at him, the fine fabric of his coat burning away at their touch.
”We’ve seen your kind before.”
Anyone trying to pull the mob away would only burn themselves. Burnt shreds of Abel’s cravat and shirt spiralled to the floor, smoking.
“We do not exist for your amusement.”
The fear threatened to choke Abel. It’s so overwhelming he didn’t speak at all. He didn’t even really Try it.
He just looked at Viper. To make sure she’s safe. It’s the last thing he could coherently think about before they grabbed him. Once their hands were on him his thoughts scattered between the white hot pain—and memories of the Gazebo at home. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to have his headstone there. Even if there’s no body to bury beneath it.
At least he knew Viper had the letter for his uncle. He just wished he got to see him again.
Despite the protests others voiced that Abel could not, the sun-bright hands refused to relent. The smell of burning flesh crept through the air. Clearly nothing but action could stop this—
If anything could stop it at all.
