Chapter Text
Before the sun rose, there was a knock on Cleo and Pearl’s door. As Pearl actually needed the sleep, Cleo untangled herself from the limbs wrapped around her, and stood to see who was at the door. Opening the door a crack, as they had no peephole, Cleo saw it was Apo who called, and opened the door wider to let her in.
“Sorry for the time– I have something I need to show you. Will you come with me?” Normally Cleo would not have followed Apo to gods-know-where, but after their recent conspirings, there was slightly more trust there. Besides, Cleo thought, It’s not like I couldn’t take her in a fight.
Cleo spoke in a low whisper, as to not wake Pearl, “Gods, Apo, you're gonna wake Pearl up now. Be quiet. I’m writing her a note so she knows where I’m going.” Cleo dug in the pocket of the jacket, where it was hanging on a hook by the door, for their notebook, then ripped out a page to write, Going out with Apo. Don't worry about me unless I’m not back by noon. Love you. – Cleo. “Okay, fine, where are you taking me?” Cleo continued to whisper, ushering Apo out of her house and gently shutting the door behind them.
“I- just, follow me, okay?” Apo thankfully lowered her own voice to a whisper, sounding exasperated.
“Right, very normal. I’ll just follow you, not knowing where you're taking me.” Cleo’s tone was their trademark dry sarcasm, yet both she and Apo knew they trusted them, and would follow anyway. There wasn't a need for Apo to respond to that, the shared trust and understanding underscoring their interaction. Apo simply transformed into a bat, prompting Cleo to do the same. The soldier led them over the plains surrounding Oakhurst proper, then into the forest, and flew until they ended in a meadow of poppies, grass giving way beneath their bat’s feet.
Both vampires transformed back into their normal forms to speak plainly, and Apo stepped further into the meadow. “It’s around here somewhere–” They mused, and Cleo watched in fascination as Apo held out a hand to the air. Their gaze transfixed on the soldier’s graceful movements, Cleo watched as the outstretched hand seemingly came into contact with an invisible barrier. At the point of contact, a brilliant golden light akin to the holy beacons’ glow painted the sky. Glimmering words lit up below the handprint that was left as Apo withdrew their hand. Cleo watched in stunned amazement, stepping forward to read the words, though being careful not to crush any flowers beneath their feet.
Only whence all art the same once more, holy light or evil dark, shall this door be opened wide, travel thusly it shall let slide. Shouldst the holy cure be brought to light, ones turned from dark to bright, shall also be spared the torture of confinement.
Cleo spun the words in their head, trying to make heads or tails of the cryptic poem. The speech patterns of the words were eerily similar to those of her mother, allowing Cleo to see clearly the loophole that laid within. “Those cured can leave, regardless of the beacons’ state.” They said incredulously, a hopeful idea sprouting in their head. Apo nodded solemnly.
“Yes. If some people want to keep being vampires–” Apo started–
“We can cure everyone who wants to be human, and everyone can leave.” Cleo finished their thought, then drew their brows together in question. “That is, if we know how to cure people.”
Apo looked pensive as the shimmering words finally faded from where they hung in the air. “... We do.”
It was a revelation Cleo hadn't expected. A way out, for all of them? It was too good to be true. Things like this always were. Don't hold your breath, Cleo. Said the voice in their mind. Don't get your hopes up. Nothing will save you. Cleo then looked back at Apo, seeing pain and regret in her eyes. “So, why do you look upset?”
Apo sighed, long and reluctant. “For one to be cured, their sire must die. Permanently.” It took Cleo far too long to understand the meaning behind the words. Pull it together, Cleo, use your brain! Analyze the words, find the loophole, sweet talk until your throat runs dry– There was no loophole. Someone had to sacrifice. Cleo sat on the flowering grasses, a list beginning to form in their head. Scott will die, freeing me, Apo, Drift, and Pyro. “Do we know if it trickles down?”
“Unfortunately not. Abolish and the Doc have been working on it, sorry we didn't tell you–”
“It’s okay. I know… I know it looked like I was with them, you know. I was trying to gain information... but all I lost were friends.” Cleo hated to admit it, but it was very fair to have been left out of talks about the cure. From an outside perspective, it must have seemed like they were in with the castle vampires.
“Killing Scott, still, will solve most of our problems, won't it? It’ll allow the curing of both of us, along with Pyro and Drift.” Cleo went through their wealth of knowledge on each vampire. “Shelby probably wants to stay, so we shouldn't worry about killing Pyro. Owen’s sire is dead, but I don’t see him taking the cure anytime soon. Avid, the little wretch, won’t be able to be cured unless we kill Owen…”
Apo thought aloud, “We’ll need someone willing to sire Pearl, Ren, Martyn, M., Abolish, and Legundo, then die if any of them want to stay human.”
“Don't worry about Pearl.”
“...Why?” Apo’s eyes seemingly bored directly into Cleo’s soul. Cleo almost, almost, told them, but would never give away Pearl’s secret.
“Just… don't. She doesn't need to be turned.” Cleo’s tone indicated it was the end of the discussion, her brows forming a stern look. Cleo quickly changed the topic, surprising both Apo and themself with the next words they said. “I’ll do it.”
“What?!”
“I said, I’ll do it. I’ll turn any of the current humans who want to stay that way, then you will kill me.” Cleo didn't need to think about it. They were as sure of this as anything they'd ever done. To save these people their suffering or deaths, Cleo would sacrifice. They tried not to think about the consequences.
“Cleo! Come to your senses, you are not sacrificing yourself.” Apo crouched in front of them on the grass, holding their shoulders as Cleo avoided their eyes.
“Who else will? I came up with this plan. I will not be responsible for anyone else's deaths.”
“I also came up with it! Cleo– Cleo, you cannot do this! Think about it– think about what it’ll do to everyone, think of what it’ll do to Pearl–”
Cleo didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think about Pearl. They knew it was what had to be done– it’d keep as many people from dying as possible. If they did this now, it’d be best for everybody.They weren't crying, but their eyes pricked uncomfortably. “This isn't a problem for now. Let’s figure out how to kill Scott first, okay?”
“Fine. But we’re not done talking about this.” Apo relented, sitting back on her feet as Cleo composed themself. The sun rose lazily over the horizon, and the pair planned their great assassination.
The plan was simple, really. At the coven meeting the next day, they proposed to have a party in the newly constructed ballroom, an offer they both knew Scott and the coven couldn't pass up. (Especially Shelby– she seemed very excited about the idea of a ball). Cleo scowled over the table at Avid, who was sitting in Owen’s usual chair to Scott’s right, the lumberjack apparently being ousted that morning for threatening his fledgeling. Silly, petty coven drama. Cleo thought, yet the weight of the world settled on their shoulders like an invisible rock. As usual, Cleo paid little attention to the meeting. Dissociating had many perks, and one of them happened to be ignoring her sire’s horrible grating voice and insincere comments.
After the meeting, Apo and Cleo approached Pyro, claiming needing his help to consecrate the beacon far out in the Dead Woods. No suspicion at all in their eyes, Pyro followed them. Stupid, unobservant fledgeling, Cleo mused, Must be how they turned him in the first place.
Once they made it, having been quiet on the journey over, Apo rounded on Pyro, boxing him against the wall with no escape. Their former roommate suddenly understood what was happening, putting his hands up in surrender. Cleo moved over Apo’s shoulder, disinterestedly scanning the scholar for anywhere he might have a stake concealed. Finding none, Cleo said, “Relax, Pyro. We aren’t going to hurt you. We simply have… an offer.”
Pyro gulped visibly, fear obvious in his bloody eyes. If Cleo was any other vampire, she might have reveled in his fear, yet it was getting old fast.
Apo spoke next, “Don't you want to get cured?”
“I– well, yes, but, uhm, doesn't it need the death of the sire, though? I was under the impression it did, and I couldn't possibly kill Sire, he’d see it coming from a mile away–”
“That’s why I’ll be killing Scott. During the ball, we have a plan, but it hinges on your help.” Cleo interrupted his nervous rambling. “Your only job is to get Scott into a room, alone, while the rest of the coven is distracted partying. Think you can do that, lover boy?”
Pyro nodded. So, the trap was set.
Nothing gets in the way of Scott’s death now.