...But it has to be done.

Entry tags:

...But it has to be done.

Who: Trevor Belmont, Father John, Godric / open thread after the deed is done
When: Around midnight, present
Where: The chapel
What: Trevor takes issue with being fooled and having a vampire killer slip right underneath his watch
Warnings: Character death, fire, possible violence, small setting destruction

[Closed to John and Godric]
It hurts to be wrong: that's what gnaws at Trevor as he lies in his cot, staring up at the ceiling of Adrian's room. He's been tricked before by people who appear friendly, and turn out to be wolves in disguise.

It stings more when that someone is a vampire. Someone Trevor ought to have known was a threat before he ever made a move on Dorian.

He exhales, wondering if he has the wherewithal to do this task at hand. It's grim work, killing this way. Won't be quick. He knows from experience.

...But it has to be done.

He rolls out of bed when it's time and walks to the chapel on deck. The lights are on: he can see Godric supervising the scrubbing of floors. He'll do his best not to involve him. Trevor enters the chapel calmly, with a tired, worn expression on his face as he looks for John. There's a bottle of wine in his hand and no real indication of what's about to come next.

"Evening." He grunts, walking through the pews.

[After - Open to Godric, then open to all]

He won't resist. Trevor's expression barely changed after everything was said and done. In fact, he's starting to feel a bit like his old self as he waits for the hammer to fall.

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One of John's chief motivations in keeping a low profile has been to stay out of Trevor's way. He's known that there will be—ha—hell to pay for this particular deception, and so when Trevor comes into the chapel, John looks up from the spot he's scrubbing on the floor and his heart sinks.

He doesn't stand up, but he does try to find a spot that needs extra cleaning behind one of the pews.

Godric, absorbed in a book, is a few rows up. He's been supervising John most of the night but, after lobbing questions his way, has decided that silence is the best strategy for now.

When Trevor walks in, Godric puts his book down. "Good evening," he says, not yet suspicious. Surely Trevor's not stupid enough to do something with Godric right there.

God, he wasn't prepared for the surge of anger that ripples through him when John works to avoid him. He glares, briefly, at the vampire priest but only as long as it takes to memorize his position in the room to get a clear shot. He doesn't even break stride as he comes up to Godric.

There's a reason for this: it isn't to belay suspicion, because he doesn't care about being caught. It's more that he can, weirdly enough, protect Godric from what's about to happen. No sense harming the innocents, even if they are vampires themselves. And people on fire tend to...

Fuck. What a thought.

He's grim-faced as he comes over near to Godric. A conversation springs suddenly to mind, one that must have happened in his youth: don't drag out the kill. Don't take pleasure in it, don't torture your prey, make it as quick and clean as possible. Fire's not quick but it's all he has, and hopefully with the wine he brought it'll be enough to immolate quickly.

Anyway.

He turns his back to Godric, standing near his pew. Glances around once for exits and any other people who might be lurking in the pews or behind the altar.

In a swift, practiced motion, he uses his lighter on the bit of cloth torn from a piece of clothing in the wardrobe that he's wound around the wine bottle. In the next second the wine bottle is being thrown with ridiculous accuracy, arching over the pews to land next to John's feet in a shatter of glass and flammable liquid.

John doesn't see it coming until it's too late. He's scrabbling to his feet when the bottle shatters, spraying him with fragments that cut his face and hands, and then the fire catches on his jeans, spreading quickly across his clothes

A normal human might get out of this with bad burns, no more. But John isn't a normal human anymore. In true sunlight, he'd burn to ash. Flames aren't quite as volatile, but they still catch and consume much too quickly.

He screams and tries to beat the flames back, but there's nothing he can do. Within moments, he's engulfed, and then what's left is no longer capable of screaming.

Godric's quick enough that he's leaping for Trevor, full speed, full strength, as soon as he tosses the bottle. But there isn't anything he can do for John. Godric can heal from burns, but only just.

His priority is to try and subdue Trevor, even with the priest's screams in his ears.

There’s nothing really to subdue: Trevor holds up his hands, fingers splayed as the lighter drops to the floor. He exhales when he’s met with Godric but doesn’t resist whatever he wants to do.

Godric gets him to the wall. "What are you doing?" he hisses, one arm like a bar across Trevor's chest.

"Why?"

It's sort of sad that Godric has to ask. Trevor doesn't look happy, or triumphant or angry. There's just a strange solemness as his gaze lingers on the piles of ash that used to be John.

Christ. At least it was fast.

"I'm Trevor Belmont. My family has been killing monsters for the last five hundred years."

A pause, as he looks tiredly back at Godric's face.

"Going to lock me up in Zero for that?"

"Yes," he tells him sternly. "I am. Because clearly you would rather act than think. Your warden can let you out."

He steps back, glancing at John behind him. Or what remains of John.

"Walk."

He nods, pushing off from the wall and walking carefully around John's ashes. Killer vampire or not, Trevor doesn't exactly feel right, disrespecting the dead. Even if he killed them.

He pushes open the door to the chapel, ignoring the headache starting to form. Christ - you eat a man, you scrub floors. You kill that killer, and you're locked up for a week in time-out. He honestly hates this place, much as it's shown him its wonders.

Then Godric remembers just who his Warden is. Well. That makes it easier. "Wait," he says once they're outside the chapel.

He sends out message to Lark and then sighs.

"We'll just wait for Lark out here. He may not even want you in Zero." And Godric doesn't want to leave John alone. But he doesn't want Trevor inside, either. The chapel has been desecrated enough.

Edited 2022-01-07 17:49 (UTC)

It's cold out tonight. Trevor halts as Godric calls, and puts his hands in his pockets to lean against the chapel. Despite the insistent voice that told him he needed to do this, he does feel somewhat bad he had to do it in front of Godric, and that the whole warden-inmate ties made this all a lot messier than it had to be, with loyalties and friendships.

"All right."

Lark is surprised to find the chapel not ablaze. He is also not surprised to see Trevor.

"What happened."

Godric stands close to Trevor, though he has already proven that he can outrun him if need be. Not that he believes Trevor will run.

The vampire so rarely shows emotions, but he can't help it when Lark arrives. He's not angry. Not upset. He's sad. Terribly sad.

"He walked in the chapel with a bottle of alcohol, lit it on fire and threw it at John. John did not survive and I will stay here with him until his Warden arrives. I thought it better to have you retrieve Trevor."

Trevor says nothing, only acknowledging the truth of these statements with an echoed nod.

The stink of burned flesh isn't human so he doesn't ask which John. He just looks at Godric a moment.

"Come with me," he tells Trevor, and turns to lead him to cabin 101. "And tell me why you did it."

Godric doesn't say anything after that. He can get back with Lark later.

For now, he has higher priorities, so he goes inside the chapel to clean up.

"All right. Guess that's me."

He pushes off from the chapel and walks after Lark, headed down below with him. Godric gets a quick, solemn once-over when he passes him, but his expression is mostly unreadable: at least it doesn't appear to be gloating, mocking, or even anywhere near happy.

He doesn't say anything until they're behind a closed door. He usually leaves it unlocked for his adopted inmates to use, but he locks it now.

"So you set him on fire. This is the John who attacked someone?"

"Yeah. Dorian."

Trevor enters the room and remains standing, hands in his pockets. It's a flippant pose but his expression is one of tired detachment.

"All right." He sighs and motions for Trevor to sit.

"You don't seem to have found any satisfaction in killing him. Why?"

That's a weird question. He drops down to sit and tilts his head.

"Well...It's a calling. It needed to happen but it's still killing. I start taking pleasure in it and I become worse than I already am."

A slow nod. "Did you talk to his warden before you decided to act?"

"Before I lit him on fire, did I ask him if he was all right with it? No."

"Did you bother to find out what his long term punishment is," he corrects, a hint of warning in his tone.

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