𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜𝗜 ━━ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘
116. no one likes a mad woman

january, 1981

          "𝗞𝗔𝗭, 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗨𝗖𝗞 𝗨𝗣 𝗔𝗟𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗬?" Everest sneered at Kaz who was flying around her head, making 'kaw' noises continuously as he led the path to her destination. There was no need for those unnecessary, loud sounds Kaz was making for the dramatics. He would belong perfectly in a circus.

       A purse in one hand, and an unopened bottle of whiskey in another. Kaz knocked on the door using his beak before settling himself on Everest's shoulder.

       The door swept open, a man in his forties stood with an ignorant look.

"Good morning, Mr Balcom," she sweetly greeted, a charming smile on her face with the crow on her shoulder, "I am here behalf of the Ministry," his face paled considerably, "do not concern yourself, you're not in trouble but I have received a warning that an attack could take place here. On your house, presumably arson given how recent times have been."

"Wha–what the hell are you on, lady? Why us?" He stuttered, brows pinching together in confusion.

"Perhaps you should evacuate to safety before this attacker ambushes your manor," she raised a brow.

"Do you know who the attacker is?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Who?" He urged, the volume of his voice rising.

A pause, a tilt of her head and a smirk, "Me." Wand in her hand, "Incendio."

      His face burned, he stumbled back and thrashed around to dim the fire that caught his skin. Hallowed complexions started to boil, skin burned and rippled until heavy trails of scarlet ran down his face.

      Rageful tears fell down his face as the fire went away, screams after screams until his brother— much younger and less arrogant-looking came forward with panicked gazes.

      The younger Balcom sprinted towards her, and Everest purposefully stood and let him take the first hit.

      He punched her in the face, and a split across her bottom lip where blood dripped. Slowly, she wiped away the scarlet liquid using the back of her hand. When she met his eyes again, the glare caught them both off guard, their regards filling with slow, treacherous horror. At their face falling, she released the unhinged laugh she'd been suppressing the second they thought they could fight her down.

     Not to toot her own horn or anything, she grew up besides homicidal, bloodthirsty Slytherins, half of whom turned Death Eaters the second they turned seventeen. Viciousness nurtured her. The eerie resonance echoed throughout the manor.

"CRUCIO!" She yelled out, wand pointed at the one who had just hit her.

An endless void of torment tore apart his insides. He screamed in agony.

"Sit," she ordered venomously, and the younger instantly took a seat, trembling. Gently, Everest tucked a pocket knife into his hand, "Imperio." She whispered, and then turned to the older Balcom, "Stab him. In the shoulder."

Under the Imperius Curse, body moving before his mind could, the younger lunged forward despite his brother's protests and sunk the knife into his skin. Crimson dripped from his slashed flesh, he melted to the floor in an attempt to hide from Chasseur's murderous gaze—

      No, not murderous. She held a sickening smile, a smile that would be rather gentle to any other if the bloodshed was neglected.

As the knife was pulled out, she pressed a white cloth against the wound, "hold it there, tightly," she advised, "wouldn't want you to bleed out already.

"Who the hell are you?" The older spat, sprawled on the ground in pain. Blood everywhere. He pulled his wand out.

Within a blink of an eye, she cast, "expelliarmus!" And scoffed in disbelief when his face paled even more, even underneath the red splotches on the burn marks.

A face of unwavering kindness and compassion somehow appeared on her, as though she was not committing vicious acts. She tilted her head with her lips tugging up, moving away to run a hand through the younger's luxurious dirty blonde hair, and tugged at them harshly. His head was thrown back with the force of her hold, and she leaned forward until her lips touched the shell of his ear;

"Now... stab yourself in the eye, darling."

So, he did. Then came more screaming. Blood sputtering out, rushing everywhere. His eyeball gouged out.

"NO, BROTHER! STOP, STOP IT NOW!" The older begged at her feet, "Please, I'm begging you— he didn't do anything! It was me! It was all me!"

"Stop screaming, you're going to give me a headache." She untangled her foot from his pleading hands, kicking at his side. "QUIET!" Her booming voice instantly shut them both.

The younger—clutching onto his eye and the Imperius Curse wavering away—was now weeping in the corner. He may not have done anything but he sure allowed it.

As for the older one who actually did it—

She was going to make him regret the day he was born and she was going to take her damn time doing it.

Slowly, very slowly, Everest pulled out a chair. The unpleasant creak against the wooden floor made the men cringe. She sat down, one leg over the other. The older Balcom lunged forward, aiming to snatch her wand and her reflexes kicked in. Everest's heel planted against his chest the second he leaped forward, and she kicked him hard against the ground. In no second, the thin heel of her black stilettos was against his throat.

It did not dig in and yet he felt as though someone had cut his lungs out, unable to breathe.

She moved her foot, watching him heaving on the ground. She then spread her legs a little, placing her elbows on her knees and leaned over a little, wand still twirling in her delicate fingers.

She opened up her bottle of vintage wine and took a sip before placing it on the mahogany table.

"I think you're not understand the momentum of my actions, Balcom," she said mockingly, "I'm not a Death Eater, you see, I'm not an Auror either. I can see by the look on your face that you're having trouble figuring out who the hell I am, so go ahead, ask me again."

"Who the hell are you?" His voice shook.

"I'm Everest Chasseur," she smiled lightly, and a look of recognition rose upon his features. "You heard of the Chasseur family, undoubtedly."

"You're a Chasseur—? Bullshit," he scoffed.

"You don't believe me?" Everest's eyes twinkled with mischief, "oh, this keeps on getting better."

      She worked quickly, as though she was dealing cards like an expert player. Hand in her purse that was under the undetectable extension charm. Then, within a blink of an eye, in her hand was an arrow and a bow. She placed one in, tugged at the string, pointed it at the younger brother and shot an arrow right into his right eye. Both eyes were not gouged out, a knife in one and an arrow in the other.

      Screaming came next. Horrified screams.

"Bullseye," she winked, a smirk. "With an aim like that, you can interpret I'm a huntress, eh?"

"Let us go, let us go..." he pleaded. Something blinded her vision, rage perhaps, she stood up and grabbed a fistful of his hair, smashing his skull against the wall three times. Breakage of bone overwhelming her ears.

She stepped away, slowly. She dwelled on her thoughts aloud, a sarcasm in her tone as she spoke; "Maybe I should expand my career, alongside hunting werewolves, I could hunt those like you and your brother — after all, you're not very different from hungry animals."

His brother was still screaming. The arrow in his eye, blood splattering everywhere.

"Shut up!" Everest snapped loudly, turning to him, "stop screaming like a lunatic, you're making my brain rot!"

The older one tried to get up again and she shot a cutting curse at his leg.

"SIT DOWN!" Her voice bellowed, "we're going to play a little game, Balcom, I'm going to cast enchantments on your brother, totally non-verbal — and you're going to tell me what spell I'm casting, comprendes?"

Another sip from the bottle, and she cast a spell at the younger. He was thrashing around, body limp and yet jerking in agony.

"STOP!" His brother screamed. "You're boiling his blood, stop it! LET HIM GO!"

Everest flickered her wand again silently, and the younger's body was thrown against the wall.

"Say it," she ordered sternly.

"You're using the enchantment Alarte Ascendare," the older man choked out. In pain for the suffering for his brother.

"Do you know why I'm here in the first place, Balcom?" She asked casually, drinking from her bottle.

"On behalf of Scarlet Bridget."

"Correct," she raised a brow, faking the compliment with a sweet tone, "Now, what could you have possibly done that led to me being here, taking revenge instead of her?" She questioned, "After all, we both know she is perfectly capable of ruining the two of you."

Silence.

"What did you do, Balcom? I want to hear you say it." Everest whispered, menacing. 

"I just— I... I only touched her— I didn't rape her!" He exclaimed out, as though revealing some sort of big secret that will erase his sins.

Everest shot him an odd look, nose scrunched up. Even she was taken aback with that statement, "Congratulations, motherfucker," she declared, dumbfounded. "You want a fucking cookie for that?"

"I was under orders," he said, and that was something Everest didn't know, she urged him to continue with a tilt of her head, "From Blake Mulciber. If you want revenge, go harm him and leave us alone."

Everest nodded lightly, "You're just digging yourself a bigger hole by not taking responsibilities, Balcom." She quietly uttered, "Mulciber's biggest pride comes from his reputation to the dark lord, and believe me, we will make sure to take that away, too— for now, you're the one on trial."

"Let my brother go, he didn't do anything."

      Everest continued to say her own thoughts, ignoring the way he clasped his hands together and begged and begged.

"You thought just because Celeste Bridget is dead, you are free to hurt her daughter," Everest concluded, "do you know..." she kneeled in front of him, hatred burning in her emerald irises as she stared at him, "just what would happen if I told Lucius Malfoy about this..."

"I'd be dead, I know."

A chuckle left her red lips, "Of course, you would, Balcom," she raised a brow, smiling sweetly and mockingly, "you see, I didn't want you to merely meet your death — your sheer bad luck landed you me as an enemy rather than the Malfoys and I'll not simply kill you... I'll make sure that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging like an animal at my feet to kill you."

      All she needed for the day, she got– with Balcom weeping at her feet as she slaughtered him.

"If you ever lay a finger on my best friend again, I'll break every single bone in your body, heal you and then break it all over again until they rot — do you understand?" The man did not answer her and merely trembled, looking away. Everest leaned in closer, gripping his jaw in her fingers roughly and moving his face towards her, "When I ask you a question, you fucking answer me — did that go through your thick head?"

"Ye—yes," he shook an answer out with pain, "I won't do it again, ever."

"Yes, yes, you won't," Everest cooed mockingly, then a menacing cackle left her lips, tumbling out like poison, "you can't. Because in a minute or two, your hands are going to be cut off. The same hands you laid on my best friend."

"No, stop, please, I beg for your mercy— don't do this to me."

"Oh, I won't do anything, love," she said innocently, wide eyes blinking, "you will."

"No, stop, no–" he shook his head as Everest pulled out the knife from the younger brother's eye, yells of agony filling the air once again. She dropped it right in front of the older Balcom, gazing at him as a crow does its target.

"Imperio," she whispered, and Balcom picked the knife up with one hand, and cut off his other.

      She cast another spell, and the breakage of his bones overwhelmed the air, all the cracking and spluttering sounding, and then he spat out blood, choking on it.

      At last, she picked up her bottle of wine and started to pour it on the two men on the floor, blood soaking through the tiles and their robes, blood everywhere. They were drenched in alcohol in no time, staring up at the young girl as she held a stoic expression.

"Petrificus totalus." She cast, and his body froze in place along with his brother's. She looked around mockingly, scrutinising the details of the house, "what a pretty house," she said in mock-mesmerisation, "and what a shame it'll turn to ashes."

      Everest slowly turned to glare at the two men, knowing their souls were begging to crawl out and be spared. The fear was visible in their eyes, and they were dying to move.

      She exited the manor, but not forgetting to mutter, 'Pestis Incendium' just before her footsteps carried her out of the house.

      Sirens encapsulated the freezing air. The dark-sage robes Everest wore found the cold wind intolerable, her cheeks flushed from the icy environment but she couldn't care less. Even with the burning house behind her as she leaned against the mailbox, toxic smokes billowing, the heat was no match to the January cold of England.

      Chasseur was smoking, a cigarette lightly hung between two fingers. There were so many fire workers and Aurors trying to put the fire away by shooting Water-Making spells. 

      Then, one of the Aurors from the scene approached her cautiously, an assuring expression on his young face. 

"Good afternoon, sir," she sweetly said, looking up at him, "I called upon the Ministry the second I saw this house on fire— I–I tried to go in and save them but I was so scared, I didn't know what to do."

"It's alright, love, you did the right thing. Are you okay?" The young Auror asked with concern, placing an arm on her shoulder, she nodded lightly, pretending to be shaken up, "were there any witnesses?"

"I haven't seen anyone around, no," she answered, frowning lightly as she faked a shiver underneath the cold, "sorry."

"Don't you worry, you are free to go— is there anyone willing to come and pick you up?"

"Yes, I've called my friend, she'll be here in no time."

The Auror smiled at her, "have a pleasant afternoon, and stay safe, Miss..."

"Chasseur."

The Auror nodded in recognition, smiling lightly, "Miss Chasseur."

      The man walked away and a victorious grin splattered across her face. That grin dropped when she turned around and saw Marlene, accompanied by Dorcas and Moody.

"Jesus," she muttered underneath her breath, not wanting to deal with Alastor and his lectures. Not to mention he was likely to snitch to Eve's mother, and Aster was going to bury her alive for putting herself in danger. Moody furiously gripped her elbow, dragging her away from the crime scene quickly.

Marlene held a wry expression, biting the insides of her cheeks in worry at the sight of two dead, burned men being pulled out of the house on fire. Everest regarded Dorcas Meadowes instead, "what are you doing here?" She asked.

"I was assigned to the case," Dorcas said. "Don't worry, there's no way they can get you— there's no evidence."

"Did you use the Killing Curse?" Moody huffed out ragefully, "Merlin, you lot cannot sit down and be subtle, can you—? We could've handled it ourselves... legally."

"She's not answering any questions," Dorcas stated confidently, grabbing Eve's shoulder and pushing her back.

Moody gave Dorcas a strange look, "why are you acting as her attorney? I need to know what sort of curses she used!"

      Dorcas backed off, pursing her lips because everybody feared Moody quite a lot. Even Scarlet used to get shaken up during her training with the reckless man. 

"I asked a question, did you use the Killing Curse or not because if you did, I have to cover this up for you—!" Moody scoffed in annoyance, cutting himself off midway due to the rising anger that prevented him from speaking further.

"Did you use the Unforgivable Curse, Eve?" Marlene asked softly, not sparing her girlfriend a glance, only staring at the ground.

"I did not but I did make sure every single bone in his body was in so many pieces that he couldn't even try to crawl out of death," Everest uttered menacingly. 

      Dorcas was still gripping her arm, trying to pull her away from the situation. However, all the rage from the questions and the men in the burning house suddenly did not matter anymore because Marlene's fingers slipped away from her hand.

      Her deep emerald eyes locked with her girlfriend's who held an acutely concerned expression, a tint of fright shadowing over those cobalt irises Everest was in love with. 

"Go home and stay away from this case," Moody ordered sternly, starting to walk away, and then he turned over his shoulder as he scoffed in annoyance, "And give Bridget her vicious crow back, dammit!"

CHASSEUR'S FLAT, LAKE DISTRICT

      Once Chasseur and McKinnon Apparated back to Everest's flat, they landed right in front of each other, and Marlene lost balance and fell onto the brunette. Eve caught onto her by her arms, and Marlene stepped back the second she found composure.

"Is there something you'd like to say?" Everest bitterly asked, watching Marlene turn away from her.

"I'm a little shaken-up, that's all," Marlene answered quietly, not meeting her eyes despite how desperate Everest looked to lock eyes with her. Marlene never approved of Everest's job as a huntress, it often involved cruelty that the Auror was not familiar with. 

"This is about my career, isn't it," Everest uttered confidently, "you hate it."

"You know I hate how you slaughter those werewolves—" She was not angry, she was shaken up and she had gotten a glimpse of the Balcoms' body, bones sticking out of their flesh, covered in dried crimson, all the gore Eve undoubtedly caused.

"They are on You-Know-Who's side, they feed on Muggles— people like my mother to satisfy their hunger, do you think they deserve an easy death?" 

"I know they attack Muggles but you cannot stoop down to their level by tearing them apart like that!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up, "werewolves are one thing, but humans?"

"Human is an incorrect word to describe the Balcoms," the Slytherin shrugged. "I don't expect you to understand, Marlene, you're a pureblood, your family isn't in danger."

Marlene looked at her, eyes filled with hurt, "That was so unfair, Eve." She whispered. "I'm not asking anything from you; instead of letting the Ministry handle the matter– you resorted to such gruesome measures, someone with a heart could never destroy a person like you did those men!"

"Your opinion could not possibly make me feel worse than I already feel so good luck trying."

"Why doesn't my opinion on the slaughter you caused matter?!" The blonde yelled.

"Because if I have to choose between your approval and Scarlet's integrity, it's always going to be Scarlet!" Everest shouted back and Marlene flinched away, taking a step back. A sense of unhappiness rose in between their relationship and this was not the first time; Everest blamed Marlene's lack of understanding, Marlene blamed Everest's lack of perspective on her morals. 

"Killing is not a light thing, Eve," Marlene softly explained, "I leave people to die on the battlefield all the damn time and it haunts me — I don't want you to be a victim of all that nightmare."

"I don't feel a tint of guilt, Marls, in fact, if I could bring him back to life and kill him all over again, I would."

"Don't say that," Marlene shot back, a pinch between her brows, "that's so unlike you."

"You're making me question if you ever really knew me," the brunette uttered with trembling lips, "you cannot handle who I truly am—"

"You're acting like—"

"Like what?" Everest furiously snapped. "Mad? Because no one likes a mad woman, right? It's insane what war does to everyone, can't you see? Or does my way of dealing with war and bloodshed not matter because it doesn't satisfy your morals?"

"You know, I am questioning if I ever really knew this cruel, mad woman standing before me." Marlene said, and regretted it instantly. The heat of the moment got the worst out of her.

"Oh yeah?" Suddenly, Everest's tone was icy and her expression cruel, she thought her girlfriend, her lover knew her, "what if it was Lily? What would you do?"

"Don't do this—"

"What if it had been Lily, left in that burning house after hours of torture and being taken advantage of whilst unconscious, assaulted, bruised, beaten up as though she is nothing but a piece of—" she cut herself midway, frustration seeping through her blood vessels as she bathed her fingers in her hair, tugging at the brown strands in irritation, pain, aggression, "what if it had been Alice or Mary—"

"Eve..." a whisper came.

Everest's voice too fell to a timid whisper, soft yet demanding, "what if it had been me?"

"I'm going home, Eve," Marlene whispers.

"I don't want to be alone," Everest said, desperately pleading with her eyes, "not tonight, I cannot sleep alone."

"You'll be fine, Eve, I know you will— you're fierce, fearless," the blonde replied with a tight lipped smile, picking up her white-fur scarf in one hand and her purse with another, "I need a little bit of time— I–"

"Please." The Slytherin softly muttered.

"We'll talk tomorrow, I promise," Marlene smiled again. Then, she left.

      So, Everest picked up a vase from the nearest table and threw it at the now-shut door furiously, a raging grunt leaving her red lips as she tugged at her hair in both pain and ferocious anger. After that came streams of tears.

      'Cause she was so tired. Tired of men and their wars. 

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑨 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺

LIVE. LAUGH. EVEREST CHASSEUR.
R.I.H. BALCOMS
as in, ROT IN HELL, BALCOMS.

also, u guys HAVE to visit lake district national park
in cumbria, it's bloody stunning.