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Praise was something he wanted the most. Living through the constant yelling and screaming wasn’t very uncommon, and he’d had to live through it. There wasn’t really anything he could do about it.
He rarely had any kind words of comfort.
Subspace had spent his life making the best of his abilities to serve Blackrock. He was loyal, he was an obedient dog. When he was given a task, he’d do it. No matter the outcome, no matter the consequences that would follow. He’d take himself to the limit, pushing himself to be the highest of everyone.
And yet, there was always someone higher than him. Always, no matter how hard he’d try.
Medkit.
He’d seen how they’d praise him for his skill, his talent, his abilities. Yet none of that was given to Subspace so easily. Once he’d complete a task was when he finally got at least a little bit of praise.
Something Subspace yearned for the most.
He cherished every moment he had when he finally got some recognition. It was like a rare opportunity, like giving a child candy for the first time. Even when it was just a few words, he would take it.
That couldn’t stop the overwhelming jealousy he felt towards Medkit.
He was better than him in every way. He was the person Subspace wanted to be. He was perfect in his eyes. The sweetest fruit on the tree. The reflection of him that Subspace hated the most.
And he was the one lower on the tree. Once in the spotlight. Now, there was another person better than him.
He desperately prayed for his downfall, sometime when he’d finally lose his shine.
But he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.
After a very unproductive class, Subspace headed back to his dormitory after class, his mood more nasty than usual.
The night was quiet against his ears, the peaceful sound of students heading back from lessons. He hummed to himself as he headed towards his door, resting a hand on the doorknob before walking in. His curtains flowed over his window as he noticed a small envelope on his desk.
“Mission 34. Please get it done as soon as possible.”
Another mission. He grabbed the envelope with his hands, careful not to damage the seal of Blackrock plastered on it. Written in fancy script, he excitedly opened the envelope and lifted the paper from its grasp. He was determined to be more productive today.
Subspace T. Mine,
Status: Urgent
Subspace T. Mine, we have yet another mission for you.
As a redemption for your recent mission, we will give you a chance. While it is rare, you are a well-performing student, one with plenty of potential.
We want you to dispose of [Grav]. This is not a joke.
She has placed great dismay towards not just us, but to the faction itself. We will not explain the reasoning, but you should be able to follow along.
We hope you won’t fail us.
Short and straight forward. He scanned through the letters again, hoping it was just a mistake. But no, the words were there, in the correct handwriting. The superiors. He didn't think they'd ask him for this job, afterall, they could’ve asked anyone else.
Guess he couldn’t fail this.
He looked over at the window near his dormitory, the sun setting on his bed.
In his hands was a bottle of hydrogen cyanide, stolen from the science room. He turned the bottle around, rubbing his finger against the glass.
The guilt was eating him alive. He didn’t want to do this, nor kill anybody. But the feeling of defying his superiors made him rethink his choice.
Poisoning was something he could do easily, something he could choose to do when someone was asleep. A painless death was what Subspace decided to do, afterall, he couldn’t hold a knife, nonetheless hold a proper weapon.
He held the syringe in his hand, and slowly sucked the chemical into the syringe, watching as the colourless liquid seeped through. His gas mask was properly secured in the process, careful not to get any exposure.
Then, with a begrudged sigh, he opened the door, and walked into the eerie hallway. The silence upon him was practically deafening as Subspace slowly met [Grav]’s door. The room was certainly clean, cleaner than his. Nothing was left on the floor, nothing left out of place. His heart pounded in his ears as he crept towards [Grav]’s body, peacefully lying on her bed. Her chest rose and fell, and Subspace’s eyes stung as he extracted the syringe.
Then, he froze.
All at once, he overwhelmingly realised what he was doing. The air felt too thick for him to breathe. His hands felt numb around the syringe, and he gently pinched the syringe into her arm. His breath hitched as he hissed, eyes burning as the liquid was emptied of its contents.
That was it. With that amount of cyanide, she would die in a matter of minutes. He slowly set everything back together, erasing anything of him.
He pulled the syringe back, pocketing the ̶w̶e̶a̶p̶o̶n̶ tool as he quickly shut the door behind him. Tearing off his gloves, he raced down the hall.
He couldn’t breathe, his vision blurring with tears as he swallowed aggressively, pushing his legs to run.
He’d done it. [Grav] was dead.
And it was his doing.
Morning came like nothing happened.
The sun shone on his bed as he rose, wiping the lack of sleep from his eyes.
The hallway was crowded with inphernals, panicked chattering filling the halls. He followed their gaze at a familiar room.
[Grav]’s room. The familiar paper stars glued on her door, the clean room. Her body still asleep on the bed.
[Warp] lay next to her body, her form shaking. Her wails could be heard from outside, cutting through all the noise.
[Grav]’s body was pale, still. Her face was peaceful.
She wouldn’t walk up again. Subspace knew that. The cheerful waves from the hallway, the familiar shark tail accidentally smacking him every time he passed her. The apologies leading forward.
He wouldn’t see it all again.
“Tripmine! It’s a delight to see you. I assume it was a success. Excellent work.” His superior clapped gently, and Subspace couldn’t help but grow even more displeased.
“Cyanide poisoning, huh? You’re a smart one, making your capabilities to use. Though I would’ve liked it if you'd just poisoned her when she wasn’t asleep. That way, I could’ve seen the reaction. Afterall, I’ve never experienced cyanide poisoning, but that’s off point.” They smiled, wicked and cruel under the blue light shining between the two.
Subspace remained silent, his heart squeezing against his chest.
“I might as well reward you for doing such a task. You got your hands dirty afterall. There's no washing your sin away.”
He looked down at the floor, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists. He desperately tried to say something, anything, but his mouth wouldn’t move.
“Tripmine.”
He managed to force out a response. “Yes?”
The glance they gave him was one he’d never seen on their face, powerful, but the most frightening thing he’d ever seen.
“…”
The silence curled around his throat as he felt the guilt build in his gut.
“Why don’t I give you a mark? Something to remind you of your victory?”
“I-” He choked, nothing managing to leave his mouth. He was quieter than he should've been. He wasn’t used to feeling this way.
They pulled a chair towards him, and started to grab materials, gauze, bandages and a small knife that glinted under the light. The blade was small, yet Subspace felt more threatened than he should. He wanted to run. Anything to get away.
“Come here, Tripmine.”
He swallowed, fear building up as he tried to move. His legs wouldn’t budge. He swallowed, their eyes landing on his. Sharp and absolutely shivering.
“I said, come. here. Now. Sit.”
Subspace flinched, and roughly dragged the chair towards him, sitting down stiffly, his head directly facing them. He could feel the cold steel on his face, and he resisted trying to pull away.
Caressing his face gently, they slowly drew a line across his right eye, causing Subspace to grind his teeth to keep from screaming. His eyes burned as he rapidly blinked.
The cut drew blood as he felt the sickening warmth run down his face. They drew another line across from the previous, making a small x on his eye. Then, carefully, they pressed a piece of ganze on his eye, and slowly wrapped a piece of bandage around his head, covering his eye. They wiped the remaining blood around his skin and cleaned up their materials.
“Know what this means. This is a thank you for your services.”
“....”
“You are free to go.”
“Understood.” His voice was eerily blank, his eyes expressionless as he fell away from their grasp. He felt pain bloom in his eye, but in his mind, he felt nothing.
Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. It would’ve been better.
He would’ve been in better condition otherwise. What a mistake he made.
The door clacked behind him, echoing through the empty halls.
At that very moment, everything he felt crashed on him. His throat hitched as his legs hit the floor. Guilt swallowed him as his breaths escaped in small gasps. He cradled his hands around himself, pathetically trying to give himself any reassurance. He rested his head on his knees, quietly sobbing. There was really no one to carry that burden with.
Maybe he should’ve died that day.