Silent Whispers

We Use Our Hands

Sorry for the slow updates. School sucks, lowkey depressed, you know how it is. They paragraph spacing is a little different.

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Xander lays awake in his room. With the Plaza building being approved he had no work to keep him up. Staring at the alarm clock that sat on his nightstand, watching but not really seeing the numbers change every minute. He was too lost in his own head. Thoughts about Mr Meyer came up, naturally thoughts of Isabelle followed. She is intimidating. She talked slowly in a stalking manner, as if she had all the time in the world to speak. Her words seemed to float. Xander wasn't sure if this was due to english being her second language or if that's just how she was. But despite the calm of her speech, her manurises argued she always seemed anxious and alert. You couldn't tell physically, she tended to hold a monotone expression on that pretty face of hers. Obviously gave Meyer a reason to give her attention...

Suddenly Xander's phone rang. Vibrating the nightstand beside his bed. He knew who it was. Isabelle was the only one with his number. His eyes focused on the clock before picking up the phone to see it was almost two in the morning. The numbers were a bit blurry, he hadn't bothered putting on his glasses yet but he was close enough to tell.

Xander answered the call and could immediately tell something was very wrong. If the fact she was calling at two am wasn't enough, her usually calm tone sounded more like panic. He remembered he told her he got these phones in case something were to happen. Not to mention they had just barley established a bond of trust, the only reason she would call was if something terrible happened.

"Ecco, what's wrong?"

"Boss, I need your help"

Yeah, he knew that much. But he didn't want to waste time conversating. He knew exactly what happened. What else would the problem be? Isabelle could take care of herself so he knew she wasn't hurt. Meaning it must be someone else that was hurt.

Xander ended the call, put on some shoes and a coat, and rushed over, mentaly preparing himself to see a dead body. Her apartment wasn't that far away, he could walk if he really wanted to.

Isabelle stared at the dead man in the middle of the flood, waiting for her boss to knock on the door. She didn't know what he'd do when he got there. Obviously he'd be upset, but why was the question. She had broken his rule. He had made her promise she wouldn't kill unless absolutely necessary. At that thought she realised Meyer's death was necessary. Isabelle could have easily taken the knife from the intruder and locked him outside, but he wouldn't give up that easily. He would keep returning to her with more threats, more force with every attempt. Killing him was in their best interest. As long as no one found out Isabelle did it that is.

The voices in her head decided to stay, repeating "he'll leave you" over and over again. She knew they were talking about Xander. He'll get here, see she broke the rule, and he'll leave.

Professor Strange was clearly wrong, Isabelle was absolutely insane. She was frustrated she had to learn this the hard way. Not only was she hearing voices, she unapologetically murdered someone. Looking back in her spotty memory she remembered her time in Russia. She killed people frequently back then, but that was her job. She did it because she had to. Or they would dispose of her. Slitting Meyer's throat, watching him bleed, finishing him off with a knife to the heart, that was purely her desire. Her desire, encouraged and executed by the demons in the back of her mind.

Xander approached the door. Taking a breath before he knocked. Isabelle looked to the door, taking a breath before she stood. The voices reduced to a low buzz.

Expecting to see her covered in blood, he was pleasantly surprised when she opened the door to see her as clean as he last saw here earlier that night. The girl opened the door wide enough for Xander to walk in. When he did his slight relief washed away.