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Will you hold the line
Horror took a ragged breath, smiling in disturbed satisfaction as he wiped the blood from his cheek until it was nothing but an angry red smear. His hand twitched on the handle of his axe before he pulled it free from his unfortunate victim’s head with a loud squelching noise. Blood dripped heavily from the blade, running down the wooden handle until it slid across his fingers. Horror switched out the hand holding the axe and slowly, deliberately, ran his tongue along the crimson streaks that clung to his pale skin. The flooding taste of copper that filled his mouth sent a shudder down his spine.
When everyone of them is giving up and giving in
“Gross, dude.” Dust reprimanded lowly behind him as he loaded a few more rounds into his pistol.
“Don’ knock’t t’you try’t.” Horror mumbled, continuing to lap at his hand until the last trace of blood was gone.
“Don’t let Boss catch you doin’ that.” Dust said, putting his now fully loaded pistol back into the holster at his hip. “You know what happened last time. I don’t think he’ll be as forgiving a second time around.”
Horror almost winced at the memory, digging his teeth roughly into his skin. He wasn’t quite sure what had made the boss so angry about him having a few…disturbing habits, but he had sure made quite a ruckus about it. Regardless, his boss had made his point and Horror was practically shaking by the time the conversation, one-sided as it was, was over. His boss could be terrifying when he wanted to be.
Tell me, in this house of mine
The communication device on both of their hips let out a shrill of static before a voice cut out.
“You fuckers done over there, or do I have to walk back to the rendezvous spot?” Killer’s voice snapped through the speakers. Dust rolled his eyes and pulled his device up to his lips.
“Yeah, we done. No need to bitch about having to wait when you don’t own a fucking car.” Dust said. Horror stifled a snicker as he cleaned the blade of his axe on his shirt.
“Sorry if I don’t want the boss even more pissed than he was this morning.” Killer said. “We won’t hear the end of it if we’re late.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Dust said. “We’re on our way. Have you heard anything from Cross?”
“Nadda. Let’s just hope he’s at the rendezvous point. Last thing I want to have to explain to boss is why there’s still bodies in the trunk.”
Dust winced. “Yeah. Anyway, be around in ten.”
“Yep.” Killer confirmed before the line went dead.
Nothing ever comes without a consequence, a cost
Dust sighed and put the device back in its place on his hip. He pulled a rusty ring of car keys out of his pocket as he did so, sparing a moment to gesture to the few bodies lying scattered around them. “Have at ‘em, axe man.” Dust said, beginning the trek back to the car. That was one good thing about rural areas, he supposed. They still had to work quickly, but a car parked a little way away from a rather secluded alleyway was less suspicious then one parked directly in front or down one. Horror gave a dark chuckle behind him and Dust left the alleyway to the splintering cracks of bones being split and severed.
Tell me, will the stars align?
By the time the black SUV had pulled up to the street corner, Killer had already done about twelve laps of the cul-de-sac. People were bound to start getting suspicious. So, when Horror hopped out of the passenger seat to help him load the bush-hidden body into the trunk, Killer was equal parts relieved and pissed off.
“Took you long e-fucking-nough.” He complained to Dust.
“If you don’t like the way I drive then you can just lug that thing around town for all I care.” Dust said. Killer rolled his eyes and slammed the trunk closed, clambering into the backseat of the car. Dust took off down the road almost the second both Horror and Killer were seated. “Still nothing from Cross?”
“Nope.” Killer said. “I’ve tried to reach him about five times now.”
Dust shook his head and sighed. “Boss is gonna kill that kid if he doesn’t show up again.”
“Yeah.” Killer murmured. “That, or I will.”
Will heaven step in, will it save us from our sin?
They pulled up to the rendezvous spot just as the sun was beginning to sink low in the sky. It was a wide, open field on the far outskirts of town, where the ruins of what must have been an old stone building sat. Parked behind one of the sturdier half-walls of the ruins, a small black Honda sat. As they pulled up by the car, a man with dirty blond hair stepped out of the black Honda. Killer seethed, barely waiting for the car to stop before he had opened his door and stepped out.
“Why the fuck weren’t you answering my calls, dipshit?” Killer said.
“Sorry.” Cross said, clearly not meaning it. “I didn’t realise I had to.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t you have to?” Killer said.
Cross sighed as he opened the trunk of the SUV. “Last I checked, you aren’t my boss. So, as long as I do my job, the job that he tells me to do, I don’t see why there’s a problem.”
“Communication, asshole!” Killer yelled. “That’s why there’s a fucking problem! I need to be sure you’re going to be here when we roll up with a trunk full of bodies!”
“You should trust me to do what Boss asks me to.” Cross said. “He does.”
Killer folded his arms across his chest, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. “Like he trusted you last time?” Cross stopped his rummaging around in the trunk and glared at Killer.
“Listen,” Cross began, “not all of us are trying to suck up to Boss because he won’t give us the time of day.”
When Killer flushed dark with rage, Dust decided it was time to step in.
Will it? Cause this house of mine stands strong
“Killer.” Dust said. “At least he’s here this time. Let’s just drop the stuff and get back to base.”
Killer, though he still shook with barely contained rage, helped them unload the mass of mangled bodies, and body parts, and place them in a large black hockey bag or two. Cross took the filled bags, zipped them closed, and loaded them into the trunk of his Honda before he slipped back into the driver’s seat and sped away without another word. Dust still had no idea where he went to dispose of the bodies, none of them did, he doubted the boss did either, but at least they were never discovered. That was all that mattered. They watched the black car disappear on the horizon before they piled back into their car and begun the drive back to home base.
That’s the price you pay
Home base was a decently large house situated in a rather wealthy part of town. It was an old, slightly Gothic looking house, painted in varying shades of cream and dark brown, surrounded by vast acres of land. The house itself was rimmed with a rustic veranda and overall gave the impression of being owned by a kind elderly couple, if the hammock swinging by the front door had anything to say about it, instead of a mentally unstable group of young adults with a penchant for playing Mafia.
Not the card game.
The garage was detached from the main house and the large door slid open as the SUV drew near. When the car was situated safely in the garage and the door was closed securely behind it, they clambered out.
Leave behind your heart and castaway
Dust pocketed the keys and went over to one of the large shelves near the back of the garage where he grabbed a pair of thick, yellow rubber gloves and began preparing to disinfect the entire car. Killer, as he headed for the door out of the garage, motioned for Horror to follow him. Quickly, the two of them made their way to the porch of the main house and scampered in through the back door.
The house was quiet, as it usually was when the three of them were out. Horror shut the door behind them as they stepped into their dining room. They made their way quietly past the wooden furniture until they entered the main room of the house.
The living room was decorated in deep shades of red, varying from the bright red cushions of the couches to the deep burgundy of the curtains and plush throw-blankets.
Just another product of today
Lounging on one of the ruby love seats and half-covered by a woven blanket in alternating shades of blue and purple sat a man with dark hair, crocheting the blanket on his lap with practiced ease. When he heard them enter the room, golden eyes, rimmed by red-framed glasses, rose from where they were focused on his lap to spare them a glance.
“You’re early.” The consigliere mumbled, going back to his crocheting without even a pause in the movements of his fingers.
“How’s Boss?” Killer asked.
Error shrugged. “He got better when you three left.” Killer frowned, shifting on his feet as he tried to not let what Cross said to him earlier get to him. Error seemed to sense the change in Killer’s attitude and put down his crocheting with a sigh.
“Relax.” Error said. “You guys haven’t done anything wrong. His brother has just been on his ass lately.”
Killer felt his curiosity pique. Boss never talked about his family. Ever.
“His brother?” Killer asked. Error nodded his head in the direction of the stairs.
“He’s calmed down.” Error said. “You can go give him your report. Horror, go clean up.”
Rather be the hunter than the prey
Killer and Horror made their way up the stairs together, splitting up only when they passed the door that led to Horror’s room. Killer continued down the hallway, a familiar sense of anxiety creeping through him.
Error had said that Boss was in a good mood, or that he had at least calmed down, and their mission was a success, so why did he feel like he was walking to his death?
Maybe what Cross had said was getting to him too much. Like that kid even knew what he was talking about.
There were more important things that should be on his mind. Like this mysterious sibling the boss had been hiding from them. If he would even tell him.
Killer arrived at the door at the end of the hallway and knocked twice, sharp and quickly.
And you’re standing on the edge, face up
“Come in.” A voice called from behind the dark-wood door, smooth and deep. Killer steeled himself and opened it with a creak.
The room he entered was done up like an office space. Bookshelves framed the deep indigo walls, stuffed full of more books than Killer could possibly count, and a desk made of the same dark wood as the door sat in the middle. Two chairs, both in deep shades of blue, were placed directly in front of the desk. The desk itself was the definition of organised chaos. Two stacks of paper, each on opposite sides of the desk, and a smaller pile in the middle, framed with pens and highlighters. A trash bin in the corner of the room sat overflowing with crumpled pieces of paper.
Behind the desk, his boss sat on a black leather chair, facing away from the door and out the window that looked out over the vast expanse of backyard.
Cause you’re a natural
“Just here to give my report, boss.” Killer said, just as he usually did. His boss seemed to sit up straighter, turning around in his chair to give Killer his attention. Killer noticed, in a sort of passing way, how the light of the setting sun caught his dark hair and rippled in fiery waves across it. The golden-red light melted into his violet eyes and turned them into pools of liquid sunset.
“Yes?” Nightmare pried, raising an eyebrow. Killer coughed, clearing his throat and reprimanding his brain for wandering.
“It all went according to plan.” Killer said. “They barely put up a fight, and their deaths were real quiet. No one heard a thing.”
“Good to hear.” Nightmare said, the slightest bit of amusement twinkling in his eyes. “I have to admit, I was worried about sending Cross out with you three. Especially after last time.”
“I do have one complaint.” Killer grouched, sitting down on one of the chairs. “He never responded to any of my calls. I had no idea if he would be at the rendezvous point or if he was going to leave us hanging again.”
A beating heart of stone
Nightmare frowned, brows furrowing slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that. Communication is a very important part of working as a team.”
“That’s what I told him.” Killer said, feeling a swell of pride over his boss agreeing with him.
“I’ll have to have a discussion with him about it.” Nightmare said, already scribbling a note onto a piece of paper on his desk. “Regardless, I’m glad at least this all worked out…”
Killer, despite himself, felt a cold spike of concern lace through his sternum. “Have you been…doing okay lately?” Nightmare turned his tired violet eyes onto him, and Killer felt an all too familiar stutter of his heart.
“I’m not sure what Error has been telling you.” Nightmare said with a sigh, unceremoniously throwing his pen back onto his desk. “There’s been a lot to do lately, lots of things going on, and I'm tired, but…overall…” He eyed Killer for a moment, silently contemplating how genuine Killer was being with his question. When he found nothing to tell him that the concern wasn’t genuine, he smiled, and Killer’s heart stopped.
You’ve gotta be so cold to make it in this world
“I’ve been fine.”