#kesley

Forgot to post this a month back sdjhsksd it's KEsley from craig of the Creek wearing some sweet armor :D Patreon reward for Fruitsnack on Discord!!!

The pounding in his chest sets a rhythm he can’t ignore. A mantra that demands to be heard. A demand, an order, listen, obey.

Are you listening?

This isn’t real.

Pay attention.

This isn’t real.

This is the only way you live.

If it just isn’t real. 

And he tries to believe it. Wholeheartedly, he tries to take to such sentiments, even as the blade crawled higher and higher above Beni’s hand, even as the guillotine came roaring down on, severing bone, flesh, tendon, and he swears he can hear it, the clean cut, like a knife through butter.

Morbid curiosity forbids him from looking away, leaving him stuck, frozen. He has to see. He has to see it to disbelieve it. 

He can almost feel it, too. The blade might as well have down on his own wrist for the way Kesley cringed, rearing back with a quiet, hissed “fuck!” 

Unconsciously, he rubs at his own hand, as though to convince himself it was still there. Flexing his fingers behind his podium for comfort and reassurance. You’re fine. You’re all together.

You’re not fine. This is all wrong.

His heart had leapt somewhere into his mouth, he can taste the blood and he can feel the panicked throb ricochet all the way back into his skull. He tries to reject what reality shoves before his eyes as the truth, and finds no excuse to give. So, what, he’s just meant to…To take this? 

Are you watching? Good. Pay attention.

This is all real. 

The duo comes for Drew next, and Kesley can only watch, numb and mute, as the ghost hunter makes a desperate escape for survival. It’s like he’s become one of the mannequins himself. He can’t even bring it upon himself to hope for Drew’s survival, because he still held true to his word. An eye demanded an eye. Someone needed to die for Tsukiko’s sake. 

Someone needed to die for his sake. 

But that didn’t mean he felt any sort of satisfaction as Drew was caught by Lachesis and hurled to his demise. And yet again, Kesley finds himself captivated by the sight, a sickening spirit of inquiry trapping his gaze. He can’t turn away. He has to know. 

He has to see it to believe it. It’s all so real, isn’t it? 

The seconds drag on. There’s a sense of eternity between the gaps of the minutes, and Kesley doesn’t know how much more he can watch. How much more he has to watch. There’s a desperate, raw plea begging to tear himself out of his throat, demanding someone just finish it already, for fuck’s sake, let it end. 

But he can’t speak. Can’t look away. Wonders, maybe, if he can’t breathe, because he is starting to feel awfully lightheaded. He grips the podium for support, trying to keep from keeling over.

And then, it’s over. In an instant. A life snuffed by flame. Dazed, Kesley can only watch the embers dance, as though mimicking the macabre display performed mere moments before. 

Even now, with a corpse burning black amidst the inferno, he feels a near Pavlovian sense of ease flood through his shoulders as he lets out a shuddering breath. 

At least it’s over. He doesn’t have to bear the weight of reality anymore, turning away and ducking his head into the collar of his jacket with a quiet groan. The voices and cries of the others all fuzz like static. He can’t comprehend his surroundings. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He can’t handle this after all.

But he doesn’t have to. Not yet. He can shove it aside. Put it on the shelf. Put everything on pause and just. Be here.

None of the two revelations came as much of a surprise to Kesley. He’d called it, hadn’t he? Both of those two had been hiding something. Both of those two hadn’t been honest from the start.

Liar. Liar. Liars, the both of them. Kesley can’t stand liars. What? Do they just think he’s stupid? Did they think he wouldn't be able to tell?

But that wasn't what pissed him off the most right now. 

No, what gets him simmering under the skin, white-knuckling the podium, jaw sawing back and forth like racking a shotgun is the fucking unfairness of it all. Atropos with their wishy-washy rules. The pointless voting system. Why even bother having a trial and jury if this all boiled down to a popularity contest? Why even bother going over the evidence? Why couldn’t they just jump right in and vote for whoever pissed them off that day? No risk. All reward. Just vote for who you want gone, right? 

How was that justice? Wasn’t this supposed to be about Tsukiko? What about her? What about her justice? What had she even died for? If this was supposed to be all for her sake, why the hell was the voting so arbitrary? 

Shit-Lips was a goddamned moron. He was starting to see why she was just a mouth and not a whole head. There wasn’t any sign of a brain on her anywhere. 

Were they just supposed to depend on the morality everyone else had? That was rich. Fucking half the people here didn’t even give a shit that someone was dead. They didn’t care that Tsukiko was dead. They didn’t care. They didn’t care. A good fucking number of them hadn't even bothered investigating, and you know? In hindsight? Fucking smart play. Why investigate, right? Who cares! Just vote for who you want gone! It didn't matter that someone was dead! This wasn't about them, was it? 

It was eating him alive. He couldn't stand this. All he wanted was to do right by the one person who deserved it. And at every single fucking angle, he found himself obstructed. Liars. Abusers. Murderers. Monsters. This was lawless. This was chaos. He wanted to scream, tear his hair out. He wanted to punch out Atropos’ teeth, one by one. He wanted to snap Lachesis’ neck. He didn’t want to breathe anymore, if he had to keep inhaling this heady scent of bullshit. 

Everything settles into a dull sort of ring, a mindless cacophony of blaring lights and bells and whirs and whistles and excuses and whining and votes and excuses and whining and noise and excuses, excuses, excuses, whining, pleading, yelling. Ruri’s yelling at Beni, and it’s deserved. All of it, deserved.

To be honest, Beni deserved to die. Kesley could say that with confidence.

But he couldn't bring himself to vote just yet. How easy would it be to give in to impulse and make use of the opportunity he found, to use his vote in favor of casting Beni to the gallows.

But he couldn't. Something was wheedling at him. Or, to be more accurate, someone. The little pity party he hadn't asked to be invited to was distracting. 

Here's the thing. Kesley couldn’t fucking stand Beni, but you wanna know something? The guy was a monster. But at least he could own up to it. 

Own up to it. You know what you did. 

There’s a keening sound in his head, a snap of a sensation, and Kesley found his voice rising over Drew’s sniveling and crying. And when he opens his mouth, it’s not Beni he’s addressing.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DREW!!” 

Never, not once, not even during his brawl with Beni, had he ever sounded quite so murderous. Every word, lethal, fatal, a declaration - ‘I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.’

His grip tightened even further around the podium, painfully so, his arms straining against it. There was a dangerous sort of sound, an inorganic groan as the podium struggled to stand firm against his abuse.

“...So, finally got an honest answer out of both of you. So now it’s my turn, huh? Let me be honest now.” The words burn his own throat with all the poison he injects in every syllable. “I kinda wanna fucking kill you both right now.” 

He hates them. He hates them both. Fuck, does he hate them. He hadn't wanted to hate anybody. How fast he lost control.

“Don’t give me your holier-than-thou speech, Drew.” Sob stories don’t work on someone like him. “You’re not any better than he is. You goddamned piece of shit, stop trying to convince yourself otherwise.”

With every word he spoke, he grew angrier and angrier, black spots tattering the edges of his vision, snuffing out his peripherals. “You lowlife. You lying fucking snake, you’ve been yanking our dick around all fucking investigation and trial. You misdirected, you hid, you cowered while we were all running around like headless birds. Here’s what I’m getting. You hurt Tsukiko, and you lied about it. You lied to me, you lied to Roo, you lied to Yuuji, fuck. You just fucking lied to everyone! So why the fuck are you crying about how you’re not responsible? Tell me. What, exactly, makes you so fucking different than Beni?” 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. He has to remember to breathe. Except he doesn’t want to fucking breathe right now. He wants to scream the air from his lungs until he asphyxiates.

“No, it’s even worse than that, isn’t it? Now that you're caught, you wanna cry about it? After everything you had us all go through, you still wanna say it’s not your fault? That you’re innocent? That you had nothing to do with this, even when you pushed a knife into her heart. That you were helping her instead of killing her? Don’t give me that bullshit!! Don’t tell me you were doing this for her, you coward!!” 

Kesley’s voice was steadily rising in volume, and still, he could barely hear himself. The words clenched raw and bloodied between his teeth felt like they were echoing from somewhere far away, and yet, they’re spoken plainly, clear as day.

“If you had really given two shits about Tsukiko, you would have been honest from the start! This should have been about her, not you! You wouldn’t have made us all go through this ridiculous, fucking sham of a trial! Did you have fun, asshole? Jerking us around? Watching us flounder? Try to fucking give this girl some peace? Admit it. You only cared about yourself!” 

He can’t stop. It’s like all those times he had someone down in the dirt, and he just kept kicking. All the time he tasted dirt, pavement, and he still kept running his mouth. Stop, stop, you need to stop. Stop, stop. You can’t stop. You just can’t stop. 

You really don’t know when to quit. You’re supposed to be better. You’re meant to be better. Everyone expected you to be so much…

“...Better.” He can hardly get the words out, he’s seething. “You were supposed to be better than him, you goddamned idiot! You weren’t supposed to sink past his level! You could have just gotten help! Then, Beni would have been solely responsible! What is wrong with you?!” 

What’s wrong with you. What’s wrong with you. Why do you keep destroying everything. Why do you keep making everything so much worse. 

…He won’t even look at Beni. He can’t. If he looks at that bastard, he’s going to kill him. He won’t be able to control himself. This fucking asshole. Fucking using him. Goading him into becoming his alibi. Trying to kill this poor fucking girl for a few pennies.

Kesley would have fucking killed for a few pennies. 

“Hey. To the blondie over there that did jack-shit all investigation and trial.”

Oh, yeah. Looks like someone did, in fact, take offense to Ruby’s lackadaisical attitude with regards to the trial. 

“I’m the last guy that wants to hear people fuck about in a goddamn fucking murder trial. I don't think the victim deserves any of this bullshit. But you know something? I’d still be more willing to tolerate bullshit from the people who actually did shit. Understand what I mean? You have no room to call a defense shit or not, I'm surprised you're even aware of what's going on.” 

Ouch. Right to the point on that one, huh? 

"Exploring the motive is fine and all, but just looking at whether someone was cold or broke is probably blinding us to some possibilities. I don't think one's more compelling than the other." He addresses Mika and Dante here on that front. "The money only involved one person, right? Only the saboteur has access to that possibility. The motive, however, affected everyone by putting all our lives in direct danger. We all would have frozen to death at some point had a murder not occurred. We could just as easily explore the avenue that somebody here felt the need to play hero by sacrificing one for the many."

There's just. A lot going on. Kesley's kind of impatient. He's just going to get right into it here.

“If you want my opinion?” Nobody does, but go on, Kesley. “As someone who actually investigated with the intent of giving this poor girl some justice?” (Wow. Another low-blow, huh? Damn. Going for the throat on some people here.) “Both Beni and Drew have some fucking explaining to do, because neither of their explanations so far has cut it for me.” 

Honestly, he didn’t trust either one as far as he could throw them right now. Granted, probably shouldn’t phrase it like that. He’s pretty sure he could soccer kick a nerdy bean pole like Drew a good few yards, but he digresses. 

“Everyone’s so quick to say that this guy was just being an incompetent idiot.” Kesley jerks his thumb over in Drew’s direction. “However, playing dumb’s gotten me and a few buds out of a few assault charges myself. It’s a legitimate strategy. And it fucking works when it’s used right. Clickbait over there made that point earlier." Guilt-tripping is also a good strategy, but that's neither here nor there.

"So I wanna know, right now. Does anyone here really, honestly, wholeheartedly believe that this guy is as incompetent and moronic as he’s appeared to be throughout this entire trial? That he's really that blind and deaf to his circumstances? Because I don't think so. He had enough foresight to determine from the rules that he'd be safe from the possible killer's retaliation. In fact, he's the only one of us who recalled that little tidbit and used it to his advantage. Personally, I refuse to believe he's mentally capable and sound enough when in the presence of a dead body to deduce that much and not realize, at the same time, what an utter fucking buffoon of a red herring he's making himself to be. Understand what I mean? Or does everyone really not want to explore that avenue? Because I’ve pegged you as a lot of things myself, Drew, and believe me, ‘dumb and incompetent’ were not on the list.” 

He lets that hang for a bit before shifting his attention. Then his gesture pivots to Beni, and. Ugh. He doesn’t wanna address this any longer than he needs to. Let's get this over with. 

“As for this guy, yes, for the one that asked. I did see him with something strange on his face this morning. Yes, it could have been a bruise of some kind. I can't say for certainty, because everything that Beni said was true, and I won't risk fucking around with selective recall or memory biases here. I can't give a wholly accurate testimony on what was up with Beni's face. I didn't get a good, clear look, and I didn't even remember about it until much later. But I wouldn't put the possibility out the window."

Sorry he can't be more helpful on that front. Unfortunately, this is the best he can give. This whole thing is getting way too complicated. He just wants to wrap this up and quickly. "So. Do I know if the mark on Beni matches with Tsukiko’s injury? No, not in the slightest. Would it have been a great cover to goad me into attacking him this morning? Sure. Does it prove he’s the one who did this? Again, no. But it is pretty fucking suspicious. But Beni’s also been picking fights left and right since he got here. Just because someone lost their patience with him and possibly decked him in the face before I did doesn’t necessarily mean it has anything to do with the case. But dancing around it isn’t a good fucking look, either, so how about you cut the bullshit yourself, Beni, before you make me really fucking angry.” 

His arms folded across his chest as he lightly kicked at the podium, a heavy scowl on his face. He's well-aware this is getting a bit long-winded, and he doesn't trust the attention span of half the people here. He swears to god, if someone like, he doesn't know, Dante, hits him with a snarky 'TLDR,' he is going to shove the Reddit mascot down their throat so hard, they're shitting karma for a month.

“My conclusion here is neither of you are telling us the whole story. Beni, you’re a shit-stirring arrogant lowlife, and I wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire, and I absolutely wouldn't put murder past you. Drew, you’ve hidden way too much throughout this investigation, whether accidentally or on purpose, to be considered at all trustworthy. So, for the rest of us who aren't hiding evidence in our storage chests or fucking knives on our person like a crazed fucking hitchhiker murderer, we’ve got two main suspects here, yeah? We're not getting anything damning or exculpatory out of either of them. We're kinda just chasing our tails here. The next step should be comparing them against each other, right? Their stories, their evidence. Because from the looks of things right now, one of you is guilty." He shifts a suspicious glare between Drew and Beni, letting them know with just one cursory glance that he didn't trust either of them.

"I'll come out and say it now. I fully believe it's one of you. So if I’m right, that means the both of you should know who the killer is between you two. The culprit obviously knows. And the other will know by default. If you're innocent, that means the other is guilty. Because all this useless circling around and around is getting me pissed. Drew had the right idea earlier. Instead of trying to convince us of your innocence, how about you start trying to prove the other's guilt?"

His eyes sweep across the room, his scowl deepening. “And since some of us can’t be bothered to take this seriously. Maybe we ought to be fully aware of what happens at the end of this whole fucking farce.” Oooh, look at Kesley, using such big words.

“I mean, think about it. Because I have. I've been thinking over it a lot, actually? Like why I should even bother with all this, apart from the fact that Tsukiko deserves some justice. There’s gotta be some stakes involved here, otherwise, there wouldn’t be a need to turn this whole thing into a judge-and-jury thing instead of just a goddamn murderous free-for-all. Why have this trial in the first place and not just let the killer leave, huh? Beni and Drew aren’t the only ones holding back information, so, hey, Shit-Lips. If you’re dead-set on having us play your fucked up game, you better be telling us all the rules in advance and information in advance. Otherwise, why the fuck are we even playing? I'll walk out right now. And why shouldn't I? Why don't you tell me what's stopping me? If you can't, I'm bouncing. What's. The fucking. Point.”

Shit-Lips. He means Atropos. I’m so very sorry.

“You never told us what specifically happens if we get the culprit wrong or right. Yeah, the culprit gets to escape the tower if they get away with it, right? Is that really it? But what happens if they don’t get away it? Nothing? Do they get a re-do? Oops, try again? Maybe next murder?" His voice is dripping with some serious sarcasm here. No one ever advertised Kesley came with this much sass.

I am very sorry to announce to the room that the minute Ruri addresses him, Kesley perks right up at attention. He is listening intently. This is not subtle. He has to smother a rather pleased grin behind his hand as Ruri mentions the treatment she had given him. It had been so awfully nice of her. Still made him happy thinking about it. 

He liked Ruri. Ruri was such a sweet person. Which is why he hated having to contradict her, and he did sound so awfully dejected as he turned back around, an apologetic scowl replacing his dopey grin. “Ah…No, this was different from that, Roo. Sorry. Beni and I got into it again this morning.”

And let the record show, it had all been Beni’s fault. 

Though, much as Kesley hated to admit it, Beni wasn’t lying. Kesley had been the one to cause that black eye. Kesley blew out a frustrated exhale as he rubbed the back of his head, pointedly ignoring the other boy. Go away. Stop it. Don’t look at him! Fuck off!

“Bastard thought he’d try and be funny this morning…I didn’t mean to swing at him, it was just a…You know. An instinctive reaction.” Kesley responds to fear much in the same way he responds to anger, it seems. So anyway, I started blasting. “Same old fucking dick as usual. I think most of the injuries from our previous disagreement should have healed by now, so...Although. Uh…Actually…Wait.”

Look at that boy go. He is thinking hard, rubbing the back of his neck contemplatively. Go on, buddy, give us nothing. Don’t blow a fuse now. It’s hard work, isn’t it? 

“...Now that I think of it, there was something already there, before I whaled on him. Had a bit of dirt on his face? A bruise or something? Can’t really remember.”