Nerium oleander

Desecration

Driving to the quarry isn't how Ivan wanted to start his day but he couldn't just disobey the chief's orders for the sake of getting more sleep, though he did take his time to finish the breakfast Yao prepared for him. The crowd of workers at the entrance made him uneasy, if the quarry wasn't operating as normal Mayor Zwingli was sure to be there.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, he noticed Ludwig speaking with the Zwingli siblings, to his dread they began to approach him. A preliminary report was handed to him and Ivan arched his brow. If Ludwig was backing them up, Alfred must have shown him a convincing tread.

"I want you to take care of this quickly," Vash said sharply, crossing his arms. "I can't have everyone gossiping about a murder scene in the quarry."

"Again, the scene is outside the fence, " Ludwig's voice was calm, Ivan could tell he had been repeating the same sentence for quite a while. It seemed like he had inherited Aldrich's scheming antics but not in the way Zwingli had expected.

"We could act faster if you allow us to make a quick search," Ivan said, offering the siblings a sheepish smile. "That would make the workers less uneasy, and all they'll have to gossip about is how disappointing the search was, there's nothing here to hide, right Mr. Zwingli?"

The glare Vash gave him was full of spite, but he begrudgingly nodded. "Of course there isn't. Work faster, we already wasted half of the morning shift with this nonsense."

Ivan hums, turning his attention to read the report and keeping himself from chuckling as they leave him alone. He gets back into the car, this time actually focusing on reading, he can recognize Ludwig's writing, it's straightforward and neat, what leads them onto the scene is explained thoroughly, leaving no space to be questioned about the rationality of picking the back of the quarry, Ivan's is almost jealous of it, because it seems obvious, all this time they had been going around in circles.

He sighs, resting his head on the steering wheel, it's so stupidly clear, Alfred merely had to connect the dots to find the place.

A bit late isn't it?

He takes a deep breath, trying to think, to understand, and it's quite simple really, the rain pours over him, the shovel grows heavier, wet soil is harder to move away, it compacts, saving viciously its form and the hole begins to fill with water, a small puddle but inconvenient anyway.

It's a bit extenuating but time is not scarce, so he moves slowly. Bit by bit, the grave takes its form, the deeper the better, but today he's feeling lazy, the rain will ruin his efforts anyway. It's risky but also exciting, the decaying process accelerates with the dampness while the vegetation has room to grow. Adelfa's soil has always been fertile but sometimes it needs some help to harvest. The remains of a hunt are the perfect fertilizer, after a while, fungus and mushrooms will feast on the body, and the whole forest will bloom with vitality.

Once it's finished, the body falls limply into the hole, it just needs a small push, it's harsh, unceremoniously, but why should he care? This one wasn't clever enough to escape, none of them have been and that's a shame, pampering children makes them dependent, weak, an easy prey.

Filling up the grave with soil is way easier, the dampness will make it seem neater, and once it's done, he bends down, touching the dirt with his fingers, the smell of petrichor filling his lungs. When he's about to stand up, a pale cold hand comes out of the grave, grasping onto his arm, fingernails digging on his skin as another hand emerges, she's crawling out of the grave. Holding onto whatever speck of hope is still left inside her, how cute, how surprising.

Her hair clings to her face, stained with the soil, quite a somber sight for a pretty doll. Stubborn and dirty shouldn't be the words used to describe her. He takes a hold of her wrists, pulling her up, out of the grave as she breathes heavily and coughs, her eyes widening as he takes a hold of her jaw, making her stare at him. She struggles in his hold but her muscles are weak, exhausted and her lips are cold and harsh, she bites him and the sting, the taste of blood makes him shiver in delight. She should be dead, consumed by the worms, becoming one with nature, but her chest still holds her breath and her heart hammers vigorously with fear, adrenaline and vitality.