Orders and Conscience: An Among Us Fanfiction

Tugging at My Conscience

Black's POV:

He's going to kill me. I just know it. I didn't kill White or Yellow today. Even though I slipped out of Security to try and find Yellow earlier, I made the stupid but understandable mistake of making sure that no one else was around to hear the kill. And of course I found White in Admin, trying desperately to swipe his card and failing. I glanced over to the table and my own card. It wasn't a normal ID, exactly, it just spoofed the scanner into thinking that it was valid. All I had to do was get the swipe right.

"Barzul!" I shouted, slamming my hands into the wall again. The meaning was very appropriate, as well, ill fate, or simply as a curse. I just hoped that no one outside of quarters could hear me. "You idiot, K'dela! Why do you care? Why do you care about some stupid little crewmate who will be dead at the end of the week? You don't! You care about getting home with a mission accomplished!"

I stopped at that sentence. Did I really care about getting home when these people hoped to do the same? Why did I agree to come on these missions in the first place? Well, since Vac'shar took us in, we were honor-bound to do as he asked of us. And when he asked us to apply for missions, we didn't really think much of it. From what we understood when we were twelve and eleven, the missions were a way to gather respect and awe, and that kind of sounded cool to a young mind.

And then what? Why did I stay on? Training to kill people and being shown public displays of what happens when someone breaks the rules wasn't exactly a five-star reason to stay on. Was it because Umbitr stayed on as well, or was it for another reason? The blood of seven people was on my hands. Maybe even more, if I got out of this mission alive.

How much of that blood spilled was innocent? All of it. They never asked for their fate. I handed it to them on a rusty silver platter. Me, Umbitr, and Vac'shar. All of us were guilty. Murderers. Fate-changers.

But then, what was the reason for all of this? Surely the Council had a reason that we were killing others. At least, a reason that far outmatched the curse of killing. Unfortunately, my mouth often got me in trouble, and I unless I wanted to have a repeat of the Incident now, I kept it shut.

Unless it was annoying people with a bubble around themselves. That was just asking to be pulled down to place.

"No, no, no," I muttered. "Don't think like that. You serve for honor, life, and the Council. The greater good of the people. Strike quickly, defend fiercely, and show no weakness. Prepare for all, retreat to none. Especially not a crewmate like White."

A knock sounded at my door and I jumped. Brown slid the door open and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. With two people in one room, it felt a little claustrophobic, but I hadn't had an episode in years. Brown pulled a chair out from under the desk and sat down, taking his helmet off and rubbing his face.

"Why didn't you kill today?" He asked in a soft voice.

I shrugged and turned back to the wall, pressing against it like how I was trying to hold back my own thoughts. "Had other things on my mind. Besides, I'm trying to find a time when I won't be the main person that suspicion is put on."

Brown sighed. "Red said that he wanted me to tell you that we're not going to make another move until you kill White. He's so furious right now. Something about someone named Tenavik."

"He should be," I muttered. I debated whether or not to talk to him about what really happened with Tal'nera, but decided against it. Even if he knew, he would never believe me. Red would just shoot me down, then actually shoot me. And quite possibly decapitate me. I would not look forward to that.

"No, you don't understand!" Brown shouted, slamming his hand on the desk. "K'dela, you just put yourself in immense danger! If word of this gets out to the Council, you are dead! Actually, screw that, you're dead the next time Ethbril sees you!"