SSD VI: Remus

159. Bridges Have Two Sides

"It's never going to leave me, is it?"

That was the first time he heard her voice, Hecate Aurum's daughter. He smiled, feeling the beginnings of their bridge settle into place. "There she is."

He'd been planning this for so long, and finally it was going to come to fruition. Finally.

***

The sounds were miscellaneous at first. He was in the quiet of his room, and yet he heard strange ticks and taps that didn't belong. He heard breaths that weren't his, slow and smooth.

"I can hear you breathing," he said, mimicking the voice of the classic creepy child in old horror films.

The sounds abruptly cut off, all but those quiet breaths. And then that faded too.

***

It went on. He felt the bridge cement with every word spoken between them, but he rarely managed more than a few before they were pulled apart again. The soundbites he got of her life were few and far between, and she never said a word to him in any of them. He couldn't learn much from what he got from her, but that was ok. This was only the beginning. Given time, he'd learn everything he needed.

"Good morning."

There was a sharp rustling. The poor thing must've been asleep, or in bed at least. He supposed it was quite early in the morning, a few minutes before five.

There was only silence after that, silence and quiet breaths. So steady, those breaths, so smooth. They betrayed no fear despite him being in her head when he shouldn't have been.

He was surprised to find he was still hearing her. Usually, the breaths had faded into silence as they were pulled away from each other by now. Not today. "Sorry," he continued, glad to have this chance, it had taken long enough, "did I wake you?"

He wondered what she must be thinking right now. Did she realise this connection drawing them together was a quirk? Did she think she was hearing voices? Going crazy?

She didn't answer him and he chuckled at her. While her breaths were steady as ever, the only reason he could imagine for her refusal to respond was fear. Petrifying, all-consuming fear. How sweet. "Still ignoring me, huh?"

He pulled carefully on their connection, forcing the sound of his voice closer to her. "You can't-" There was another sharp rustle, he'd spooked her. Good- "ignore me forever."

She'd have to talk to him sometime. Eventually, she simply wouldn't be able to help herself. Curiosity would win out, it always did.

He'd used his quirk on so many people, so many times. He'd played this game over and over and over. He knew how it always ended.

She could fight it all she liked, pretend he wasn't there, act fine. But it wouldn't last. Soon enough, he'd make her break. Soon enough.

***

If he'd known murder was all it would take to get a decent reaction, he would've done this weeks ago.

Hearing two sets of world was never an enjoyable experience, but when the set that wasn't his was loud, it was always more unpleasant. Whatever place Hecate's daughter was in right now, it was deafening, filled with chattering and screeching. Children, loud, mouth-breather children.

Annoying, but he could function with worse.

"You know we can't just leave him," his subordinate said like it wasn't obvious, pointing to the one kneeling on the ground before him, hands zip tied behind their back, bag over their head, shirt bloodied.