I do not care if it is cute.

  I do not care if it is nice to you.

  A hedron is a fucking stupid pet, and no you can’t keep it!

  —Unknown and Exhausted Mother

  Violet wasn’t certain what manner of acid she had discovered, but she knew what warning symbols looked like. Dozens of very clear hazard signs begged her not to so much as touch the outside of the tank, which she found encouraging. She turned the spigot and allowed two small drops free. This was even more encouraging, as they fell to the carpet and immediately burned a hole through it. It had been a challenge moving it; whatever equipment the lab had once used for the task was long gone.

  “Tools of the Trade” did not consider equipment for hazardous material transport to be a necessary tool for a “Reaper.” As such, it took a little trial and error to find something that would work. It was easy to verify that her red crystal did not dissolve when in contact with the substance, so all she really needed was a container of some sort. She could create a syringe—an ominous success—but it was too small. She failed to create her own canteen or anything similar, and anything without a rigid surface was impossible to make with a crystal talent. She was, however, able to create a small barrel, like a miniaturized steel drum. The size was likely due to her low category and degree, and she elected not to think about what use her calling would have for it.

  What mattered to her was that she had it, and it would work. It was perhaps forty-five minutes between the moment she noticed the sign and the moment she returned, two crystal barrels of acid in tow. The hedron was still sleeping about fifteen feet from the crystal heart. Violet sighed, eyeing it with suspicion as she put one down by the heart and approached it with the other. The barrel was small, and she was able to tuck it under one arm. It was heavy, but she could carry it with the strength of a red category. The moose snorted again as Violet approached, but didn’t bother standing.

  “You mind holding this? It’s safe, I promise. It has a surprisingly water-tight seal on it, I swear,” she asked. When it didn’t respond, she took a few more steps—until its massive head rested only inches from her feet. She hesitantly extended her left hand, flinching as the hedron groaned and adjusted. She paused for a moment, but pressed forward until she was touching the crystal coating its antlers. “I’m not sure why we are friends now, but I’d really appreciate it if we could keep that up, yeah? This is just in case of emergencies. Nothing to worry about at all,” she reassured. As she did, she adjusted the small drum in her right arm, removing her left hand to steady it. She was slow and careful, but determined. She aimed for a gap in the monster’s antlers, lodging the red crystal between the strange exposed bone and the green crystal above it. She was very intentional with each movement she made. She remembered the yellow crystal shattering against green, and knew her red barrel would fare even worse under pressure.

  The hedron shifted and the barrel nearly fell out, giving Violet a minor panic attack, but she caught it before the worst could happen. She had to wait several rapid heartbeats for her hands to steady again, but she returned to her work. She pressed and adjusted until she was satisfied with the trap’s placement. With one last shove, she confirmed that it was secure enough to survive any sudden movements. She took a few nervous steps back, eyeing the creature with the crystal drum stuck in its antlers. It still didn’t move. She had apparently become something completely outside of its notice. “Maybe I won’t even have to use that shit,” she mused out loud. She’d gone sixteen years without luck like that, but she felt that finding herself in this situation at all was more shit luck than she was due for a long time. She could hope, at least.

  She kept her eyes on the monster as she crouched and picked up the second crystal drum. If the acid didn’t melt her crystal, it certainly wouldn’t dissolve the heart. But that wasn’t her goal. She approached the octahedron while lifting the barrel and unscrewing the watertight cap on the top. As she eyed the moose, she noticed one of its eyes had opened, its glowing green iris tracking her with far more precision than the monster’s posture implied. She grimaced at the implication, but she kept moving anyway. She would take this risk to avoid a greater one later, and she was certain she had to choose.

  As the acid began sliding down the crystal surface, the hedron’s pupil tightened and its muscles tensed. But it didn’t move. She kept pouring, and still it didn’t move. Acid began to dissolve not the heart, but the wall it was growing on. The heart shifted forward, the drywall keeping it in place becoming more of a goo than a surface. The moose let a loud and hot breath escape its nose as its eye narrowed. Violet flinched, but she continued pouring. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do. Let’s just take it easy, yeah?” she asked. The hedron’s muscles did not relax, and she did not suspect it was going to take it easy. The heart shifted again, nearly falling forward. The hedron began to climb to its feet.

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  “Yeah, I thought you might say that,” Violet acknowledged. Then she abandoned caution, opening the barrel’s lid and scooping the now loose heart up with it. There was still acid inside, but she didn’t have a better way to carry a currently corrosive nest heart, so she didn’t much care. As soon as she did this, the hedron sprang into action, and she nearly had a heart attack. She didn’t wait to find out what action it had in mind, immediately bolting for the hole in the door. She knew in a second that the hedron would beat her there, so she turned on her heel and began summoning a new tool. A weapon, this time. Brilliant ruby bled from her hand like liquid and formed into an impractically large scythe. It would, of course, shatter the moment it made contact with her opponent’s crystal. She didn’t have the training to fight, and even if she had few people bothered learning to fight with farming tools. But its use as a weapon was secondary. She hadn’t even meant to create a scythe specifically, but she’d thought “weapon.” Her calling—her true nature, deep in her heart of hearts—was apparently a bit on the nose about such things, and reapers used scythes.

  It only mattered because it was a bit cumbersome. Any tool would have done, really. Because her talent only allowed her to create two tools at once, and the creation of a third would’ve meant the destruction of the first. In this case, the neat crystal drum lodged in the moose’s antlers. She didn’t watch for the result of her new tool's creation. She heard it in the hedron’s scream, loud and discordant, like an orchestra in a bus crash. With the beast between her and the hole in the wall, she had to take the more mundane exit. Even if she didn’t use it in a mundane manner. Her scythe tore through the rotten wood door like tissue paper, leaving her with a clear path to the highway outside. She ran faster than she’d been capable of running that morning, adrenaline numbing the sting of bruises and broken ribs.

  She heard the hedron crash through the brick, and she promptly began swearing under her breath. Repeating the word “fuck” with each step failed to make her run any faster, but it at least made her flight feel more effective. As the noise of the rampaging monster grew to a crescendo, she made the snap decision to dive to the side, throwing her scythe behind her as she did. She was escaping with at least the grace of a one-winged duck, and her less-than-skillfully-targeted throw collided harmlessly with her pursuer’s antlers. She heard it shatter as she collided with the mud and rolled over immediately, ignoring her protesting wounds and ready to face the monster head-on.

  Then, she sighed in relief and released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She let her head fall into the mud and bit back a laugh. The hedron had kept running. She caught a glimpse of it, disappearing into the mist. It was past where her perception would let her see, but she’d seen enough, and she could still hear it. The acid had done its job. She’d seen the blood and the flesh among the crystal, exactly where the creature’s eye had been. As a category green, it wouldn’t last forever. It would heal. It would recover. And its constitution would be too high for it to die so easily. But none of that mattered to Violet. She’d never have to see it again. She’d held onto the crystal drum, and she had the green heart. She wouldn’t be sent back into the mist. Not by Roseville, anyway. She had what they were after. What they had sacrificed her for. She was bringing that back, and she had a calling. She was getting the absolute fuck out of Roseville.

  Violet hadn’t waited around for her moose friend to return. She had a feeling they weren’t going to patch things up. But he’d been a bit distant with her, anyway, so she figured it was no great loss. Besides, she had a boyfriend back home. She was planning to dump him, yes, but he did still rank above the murder moose. She didn’t know how to get back to Roseville, but she’d been able to find the casino’s entrance again with little difficulty. From there, she’d simply followed the blood trail, helpfully left by her remaining companions. They had not waited a respectful amount of time for her before leaving, it seemed, and it took nearly four hours for her to catch up to them. They’d had an hour lead, and she’d needed them to stop before she could follow. A few times, she’d worried she’d lost them, since the consistent bleeding had been tended to fairly quickly. But she followed the highway when the trail was gone, and found other signs of their passing. Used bandages, shattered yellow crystals, and other such things.

  When she found them, she simply crossed her arms. Jack was dead. Derek had been the first body she’d ever seen, but this was not a situation requiring a medical expert. He was pale, cold, and he stank a bit like the omelet she’d failed to eat earlier in the day. This did not inspire regret over her lack of dinner, regardless of her hunger. She tilted her head and examined the corpse. It persisted in being dead, even as she kicked it to check. Stephanie, however, seemed to be breathing. Violet crouched next to her, getting a closer look at her paling face. She didn’t look like she was in great shape either. But she would survive.

  Unless…

  Violet shook her head. She had no doubt this woman deserved death, and she had no qualms about delivering it. It would be simple, really. For four hours, she’d been wondering how to grow her calling more, and this seemed like an easy answer. But it was an obviously temporary answer. And, much to Violet’s chagrin, she did need help finding home, even if it wouldn’t be home for long. She didn’t plan to stay lost in the mist, and that meant having someone to guide her.

  Even so, she touched Stephanie’s throat with one hand. She wrapped her fingers around flesh and smiled. It would be so easy. She took a deep breath, allowing herself to live in the moment. It was alright. Killing her or letting her live. Violet was in control either way.

  When Stephanie woke up a few minutes later, Violet was already making food for both of them. “Oh, you’re awake! I’m so happy to see you!” Violet beamed.