Butterflies Volume II

Chapter 50

Violet was 13 when she first thought about killing Homelander. It had been after training, when he left both of her legs broken and needing surgery. She cried alone in her hospital bed, begging and pleading that he would die in sleep, or some unexplainable accident would occur and he would be the one in her place for once. She begged for it, until Homelander came and visited her, to laugh at her bandaged legs. Attacking him, she forgave the pain that surged through her as she held onto him and punched him repeatedly. And all he did was laugh as they yanked her back and restrained her, sedating her to be dumped in the dark room as punishment.

That was who she was, his toy, their puppet, and as soon as she acted out of character she was punished. From that moment forward, she would dream yearningly of all the ways she would kill him, and it was all that would keep her going in the lab. That and the prospect of freedom. When she finally got it, a life, the touch of grass, it was easy to forget her dreams of killing him because life was so much brighter. She didn't want death, she was above the violence that it would bring. That violence was his game, his joy, if she emulated it wouldn't she just become all that Vought raised her to be?

And that was true, but it wasn't as bitter as she remembered it being. What they created her to be would backfire, it would be what saved the country. It couldn't be such an evil branding if it was something she belonged to complete. She wasn't above the violence, it was exactly what she needed to finally finish what she started. The child within her, the child who never understood how to be a child, she deserved to see that the future was bright. All the people who had been tortured, lost their lives to what was in her veins, they deserved the revenge she was brewing. It was all going to end.

She laughed as Victoria was outed, watching and waiting for Homelander to be gone from the cameras, and she would make her move. She wouldn't do it in front of them, she had more smarts than that, though she would let the world know it was her when it was over. She'd bow to their branding, let it be hers, and smile at them all. Because they were right. She was exactly what they had called her, the monster underneath their children's beds. And that monster was going to save them, no matter how they tried to stop her, because humans always tried to stop those who weren't like them.

She met with Sage to decline her deal. That morning she didn't care about the deal any longer, Homelander was doing fine with tanking it himself. But what she discovered, was that Homelander had already thrown Sage out, which was laughable. He believed himself smarter than the smartest person alive, and she had counted on him to accept her methods completely. You could never be truthful to Homelander, he was too unstable, unpredictable. He couldn't think very far ahead, more consumed by emotions than he would ever admit, he'd kill you before he could give you an explanation as to why he was going to kill you.

Their deal was all but dead in the water, as Sage no longer had anything more than her brain. She had no validity, and meeting with her was just a courtesy. If there was anymore lasting wisdom, or plans Violet could interrupt, she would get it out of her, though she hadn't decided if she'd kill her. Surely she was the biggest threat to them all, but partly Violet wanted to keep her alive, because her punishment would be to continue as she did before, forgotten. Useless. If there was still destruction to come, if the worst were to happen and Violet was forced to kill more, Sage could dress it smartly.

When Sage arrived at Violet and Billy's apartment, she scanned her eyes around the space as though she expected more. She must have, and Violet wouldn't blame her, as their apartment had been dreary and empty with every kill Violet made. The aged grey walls held water stains, and as much as Violet could have done so much more to it, she let it remain. It was expecting her victory, she would take a beautiful home when it was all over, and know she didn't lose anything more if she failed.