so the same song and dance play out: some creep’s on top of them, and they gotta fight the fucker off, and then the fucker gets rougher, and they're kicking, scratching, yelling for Eden. but they don't come. but you know what PC does have nearby? rocks and canned produce. while one hand is trying to push the assaulter off, the other is reaching for the bag of supplies, and the first thing that their finger scrapes over is the heaviest can of sliced peaches they found at the shopping center, like so heavy that this single can weighed down their bag. but in this rush of adrenaline, it's not as heavy anymore, in fact, they pick it up pretty swiftly. and bring it down on their assailant's head. 

obviously, they don't fall down immediately, so a few more clumsy bashes to the skull, and a weird, wet crunching sound later, they fall limply on top of PC, head in the crook of their neck. They're still breathing, PC can feel it.

With that same strength, they push them off their body, letting out a breath they didn't know they were holding before hyperventilating. taking a life is so weird. you never know how you'll react if it happens, or how the circumstances how it happens will affect you. they're not dead, a small part of PC says, you felt their breath. the can is no longer in their hands, lying near the body. They didn't mean to hit them that hard, really, honestly, they thought that the first hit would have them off. they're back hits a tree, and just now they notice they're backing away from the scene. they didn't mean to, and they're not dead, so they didn't do anything, and this was self-defense, so logically, it's okay. right?

but what if they had a family? or a life? what if they're not usually like this? but what if they've done this before? did PC just stop a serial woodland rapist? but really, what if this was a misunderstanding, what if the nature of the town just got to them, that this possibly innocent person was just chatting with them when PC suddenly attacked and bashed their head with a can of peaches? would they have done this if it happened in town, just an hour earlier? or did the seclusion of the woods give them the confidence to play it all out? what if they're the bad guy? what if the police find out? what if they wake up and walk to the station right now?

there's a rustling in the bushes nearby, making them jump, inadvertently snapping them back to reality. did someone see it? how many people go into the woods at this time of day? other hunters, and maybe people picking flowers and harvesting lemons and mushrooms? if someone else saw then they could tell PC what really happened, right? but a witness probably wouldn't be a good thing.

they're fucked. they are so very fucked. there's a body, and they are so fucked. god, they should've just let them do what they wanted, they should've let it happen, and they would've been alive. they could just go to the cabin and sink into chores to forget about but no they just had to go on and attack, and give this piece of shit a fatal wound, it's their fault, they wanted to attack PC! but then again, PC didn't have to take it as far as they did. why did they do that? what the fuck is wrong with them?

mind scrambled, they run away. Every step, there's a new thought, how it's their fault, or maybe it's not, but maybe it is, or maybe it isn't, and by the time they reach the cabin, their thoughts are too loud to notice Eden's voice. When the hunter grabs their jaw, forcing PC to make eye contact, they realize how blurry Eden is. blinking caused fresh, hot tears to stream down their face, but touching their cheeks, they realized their skin was already damp. Eden's voice was muffled, but they could make out a question.

"What happened?"

Trying to speak proved to be difficult, a weak, hoarse sound coming from their throat, a cross between a whine and a wail. whatever comes out of their mouth next is incomprehensible, looking at everywhere but Eden's eyes, hands weakly flailing, pointing at nothing and also pointing behind them. Eden only manages to understand an "I didn't mean to.." before they properly break down, fingers raking into their face, smearing what little blood was on their hands to their cheek. Most of it splattered onto their shirt, anyways.

Eden puts two and two together. 

Walking away from their spouse and into the cabin, they grab their shotgun, before coming back outside. It's a weird sight, out of context for PC, causing them to back away, but the hunter’s hand takes their arm. They ask PC to bring them there. As the question comes out, PC just shakes their head wordlessly, a small whine coming from their throat, fresh tears threatening to spill. They can’t go back, they don't want to go back. But Eden’s hand is back at their jaw, telling them again, very slowly this time, and PC reluctantly leads Eden to the sight.

A small idea pops into their head to take their time leading Eden there, or to go in the wrong direction, but PC, even in a state of panic, is smarter than that. They’re not sure how Eden’s going to react, the hunter’s definitely seen more gruesome sights, and someone who skins animals daily definitely wouldn’t flinch at a body, though that doesn’t stop a small part of PC to wonder if they’ll hate them for this, for causing so much trouble, Eden will definitely put them back in the cage, and they hate that stupid piece of junk, always in the corner of the cabin, taunting them to act up so Eden can shove them in again, each time longer than the last, it’s a wonder they managed to act nice enough for a week curfew. 

Reaching the body is as anti-climatic as one would expect. A body is a body to Eden, human or animal. Humans are animals anyway. But it’s PC’s reaction that has them slightly surprised- shaking harder than before, avoiding the sight of the body, physically turning away, their arm propped on a tree. And then they vomit. It’s more a dry heave before a choked waterfall of past meals come down on a small patch of flowers. They’re not sure how to react to that, keeping some distance, and taking that time to walk closer to the body.

The chest rises, but it’s such a small move that Eden could’ve missed it, but no, they’re breathing. It’s a nasty wound, a visible dent in their head, skin tearing enough to see the red inside, and the cause of it close by, next to the other discarded supplies. Whoever they are, they had it coming. The hand twitches in the corner of Eden’s eye, and their mouth opens narrowly, strained voice spelling out a single syllable word. PC didn’t hit them hard enough, they think, standing up and checking the rifle’s ammunition. They’ll help them out, alright, putting them out of their misery is help, and from the looks of it, they deserve the bullet that's now lodged in their skull.

The sound of the shot echoes out, causing PC to yelp. After emptying their stomach, they were just in a trance, their entire body slumped against the tree, birch digging into their skin, but god that shot woke them right up, their ears ringing like hell. They know what happened, it’s easy to put together through context clues, but there’s no way in hell they’re turning their head. 

The walk back to the cabin is blurry, in image and time, they swear they stood against that tree for hours, the echos of the shot in their head, even when it long passed, but now, they’re in the cabin, on Eden’s lap, face against their chest. It all seems so far away. Maybe it never actually happened, it was probably some drawn-out revenge fantasy. but they know better. As Eden strokes their cheek, PC can feel the dirt underneath their fingers, dirtying their skin.

Eden notices how PC doesn’t leave on Monday morning like they usually do. The past few days they’ve slept in, but Eden expected a bit more urgency when they woke up past 10, but they just stayed in bed for an extra twenty minutes. Not that they’re complaining. the day after the incident they tried to get back on schedule with chores, but only housebound chores, avoiding the front door altogether, it was only late into Sunday afternoon that they went out to clean the spring and wash Eden’s clothing, and after that, threw themselves into the rest of their tasks. Eden likes this, reminding them of the days before the curfew, they really like this. 

On Thursday morning, they find PC getting ready for the day, fastening their only other clean school shirt. When Eden asks where they’re going, they hope it's just for supplies and nothing more, but no, they say school, like it's some sort of priority or whatever. Before Eden can tell them to make breakfast, PC motions their head to the table, leaving once they see Eden’s done eating.

Thursday is not kind to them. PC’s used to the anxiety of living in this godforsaken town, but damn, everything is ten times worse, everyone looks like them and every catcall receives a harsher reprimanding than usual. They look down at their work in class and see blood in the crevices of their fingernails, causing them to ball their hands into fists and dread bundling in their stomach. When Whitney comes up to them in the hallway, biting a nasty hickey to their neck for everyone to see, PC can’t help but notice how that's the same place their assaulter fell onto them after it all went down. Every voice is a warped version of theirs, and the smell of blood catches them off guard multiple times, despite the fact that no one is bleeding. 

The line is drawn when walking home with Robin, and they forget anything that happened past this moment with their fellow orphan until they turn their head and see a deep dent in their skull, blood gushing from the wound while an uncanny face stares back at them.

They practically run to the forest, tripping over themselves multiple times. They swear the soil sinks deeper with each step they take, like everywhere they turn is a shallow grave, waiting for them to fall in.

Back in the cabin, PC throws themselves into work again, throws themselves at Eden, because that's the only person who doesn’t have that horrible face attached to their skin, and Eden feeds that fear. Why would they even leave this morning? Knowing damn well they’d past that small hill of dirt when leaving the woods. Not to mention the possibility of this situation happening again in the streets of town, far away from where Eden can help. Speaking of help, don't they owe Eden this? after they spent so long digging through the ground to properly bury that body for them? They’d happily do it again, but only if PC willing to kill again. Who would they kill next? Some wolves? more randos walking through the woods? Or, thought experiment, a friend of theirs? someone they care about? PC definitely wouldn’t want to do that. Its safer in the cabin and Eden wouldn’t mind if they never went outside, they dont care for the crops that much, prior to PC they forgot about it, and the spring is fine, PC will find another easy way to clean their clothes, really, as long as they don’t leave Eden, they really don’t mind