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Silence curls and caresses Tomura and Dabi as the former drives, the fleeting lights of street lamps illuminate their faces briefly before allowing the darkness to swallow them again. Dabi puts his boots up on the dashboard, sinking as far down into the seat as he can, reaching over to turn the music up to try to drown out his motion sickness. Thankfully, Tomura seems to have steadier driving than Shuichi. He still wants to hurl though.
“Where’d you learn to drive?”
Shigaraki just deadpans, “Grand Theft Auto II.”
“Ha ha, what a comedian. You should do stand-up.”
Shigaraki laughs at that. “Yeah, maybe once we’re ruling over society, I can have a double life. Ruler by day, comedian by night. Best skit will be about the heroes. Comedy gold right there.”
Dabi squints at his leader. “We?”
Shigaraki clicks his tongue. “How badly did you burn your ears, Ashtray? Yes. We, us and the league. I’m not gonna kick you out once we win. I want all of you by my side.”
Dabi turns away from Shigaraki, trying to hide the smile sorely betraying him. “You gonna sign that petition Toga started that says I ain’t allowed to die?”
“I was second only to Toga and Jin.” Another silence wraps around the two men; they stay like that until Shigaraki pulls up to the boat house where the meeting is to take place. A grimace works its way onto Shigaraki’s face. “Even if they aren’t hero family rich, I’m pretty sure they come from some type of money.”
Dabi takes a deep breath, trying not to fall face first when he stumbles out of the car Giran lent them. “Old man Giran didn’t have any information on this group either.”
“That right there rubs me the wrong way. The smart ass always has knowledge on anyone who does or doesn’t exist. Man shows up out of the blue with a letter, requesting us to join his alliance. I don't like it.” Shigaraki steps next to Dabi, casually dragging the pads of his fingers across the hood of the car. Dabi jumps off from where he was leaning against the vehicle. “Jackass!”
Shigaraki just smiles as he places ‘father’ onto his face. “Asshole.”
They walk away from the pile of dust, the remains of the car blowing off into the wind as if it were never even there.
A large smile pulls at Dabi’s staples, a feeling of giddiness bubbling in his gut. “Let’s make some noise, Leader.”
Shigaraki wordlessly leads the way to the door, listening for any sound coming from inside, something unsettling in his gut. “Dabi,” Shigaraki makes eye contact with the other as he wraps three fingers around the door knob, “the wind is blowing.”
Dabi nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’ll tear up the whole field.”
Shigaraki turns back to the door, easing it open, the scent of rich man’s cologne heavy and thick. The inside is completely dark, bar from a lamp sitting on top of an antique secretaire. Shigaraki can see someone is sitting at it, writing on parchment with an ink and quill, but their form is obscured from sight- hidden behind an ornate, plush wingback chair.
“Shigaraki Tomura.”
Shigaraki’s sight zeroes in on a small mirror that has a full view of the door, full view of him and Dabi. He narrows his eyes as the man in the chair stands up. Everything about his posture is proper and poise. But not in the same way as Sako or Kurogiri- rather, he's painted in self-righteous arrogance.
And it's pissing him off.
A friendly smile makes its way across the man’s face. And it’s dripping with a sweet honey hoping to catch flies.
“I see you've received my letter. I’m so glad you’ve acce-”
“This whole place will go up in flames,” Shigaraki cuts the other off, “and will end in nothing but dust and ashes.”
The smile doesn’t leave his face, but his expression turns to one of confusion and discomposure. “Excuse me?”
Dabi steps up next to Shigaraki, throwing a quick ball of flames at the luxurious armchair he had just been sitting in. “Pardon my french, but my leader here didn’t fuckin’ stutter, ya rich bitch.”
The man finally breaks his act, growling at the two. “You two heathens haven’t the slightest clue.” The smile returns to his face, but this one's more fitting for that wolf trying to prance around as a sheep. It’s full of malice and disgust, the flames of the chair behind him illuminating him in a blue halo. “You won’t be leaving this place.”
Shigaraki sees something fly in their direction, aiming a little too close to his ally. He rushes to shove Dabi with his elbow, but right as does, whatever it is that would have hit Dabi bites his shoulder at the same time the lights are flipped on, leaving him momentarily blinded.
“Tomura!” Dabi’s voice sounds far off, fading away. Or is he fading away instead? The pain hadn’t even been that much. He’s not bleeding, is he?
Think.
All thoughts dim away, as he soon does.
~~~
As Tomura begins to regain consciousness, unfamiliar voices attack his ears. He focuses on not giving them any notice that he’s woken up.
“-still out cold, but the fire user is coming to.”
Tomura senses steps walking past him, stopping not far. Based on the sounds of groans from behind him, it’s safe to assume Dabi and him are probably back to back and tied.
A loud slap echoes throughout the room, accompanied by a growl from one of the men. “Wake up.”
Tomura hears Dabi sigh through his nose. “A man ain’t allowed to sleep?”
“Villains like you shouldn’t be allowed to do much of anything. You’re the scum of society, Bottom Dweller.”
“More of a switch, actually.” Dabi’s voice is lazy and indifferent, but Tomurai is worried he'll start rambling. It’s been awhile since the last time he's dissociated. “But, enough about me, tell me about you. You seem like a sugar da-”
The sound of a fist making contact with his right hand man cuts off the rest of his sentence. Tomura feels his blood boil. He also realizes that ‘father’ is missing.
“Where is your base? Where are the rest hiding?”
Dabi spits before answering. “I used to hav’ta study Japanese and English lit. I remember one poem that also inspired a novella. A line in the poem was ‘Man’s domain has broken Nature’s social union’. Now, the book based-”
As Dabi goes on, the men begin to converse, ignoring Dabi’s rambling. “He’s got some level of education.” The voice is low, gruff. "He latched on to your book to avoid talking. Thanks."
The second voice is timid, but annoyed. “No one asked for your lip.”
“Both of you, look at this." It's that asshole. "His eyes.” Fuck.
There’s some shuffling as Dabi’s still going on.
“Why the fuck do they look so familiar?” Shit, Dabi!
“They're-”
Tomura jerks, gasping- as if he just woke up.
“Sleeping beauty’s awake!” The man with the gruff voice comes into Tomura’s view; he’s strongly built.
“The one with the hideous scarring?” The second man comes into his view, but he’s thin and much smaller.
Tomura just sneers at him, getting the comical idea to chomp his teeth in the man’s direction. To which he stumbles back before becoming embarrassed over nothing. Tomura wraps all his fingers around the ropes digging into his wrists, but nothing happens.
The smell of expensive cologne invades his nostrils before he sees the bearer. Still carrying himself as if he’s above everything. “Perhaps we’ll get further with him.”
The leader reaches out to grab Tomura, but he snarls, yanking his head back. He isn’t able to go far, the leader roughly grabbing his chin, trapping him in an iron grip as his fingers dig into the sides of Tomura’s cheeks. The man forces Tomura to look at him.
“You villains disgust me. You don’t deserve to be walking free or alive. We will cleanse the world of your impurity.”
This man is sounding too much like Chisaki. Tomura looks at him in defiance.
Tomura fights against the hold on him to get some words out. “I’m not liking your holier-than-thou attitude, Mr. Liar.”
“You really think we can be on equal ground?” The leader sneers at Tomura. “Your kind are far beneath me.”
Tomura laughs. “Fucker, you don’t know anything about me.”
The other just frowns down at him before letting go of his face to strike Tomura, leaving his cheek stinging. “Your group is just filled with trash.”
Tomura’s train of thought screeches to a halt as he just stares at the man before him. “What’d you say, you son of a bastard?”
“There’s the coward of a failed magician. The duplicator who is nothing but a disgrace and a lazy dumbass.” Every word falling from the man’s mouth makes Tomura's vision grow cold and red. “There’s the mentally ill man who dresses and acts like a woman. Then there’s that disgusting lizard. I recall that little slut that’s obsessed with blood.”
Tomura feels his lids slowly open so wide, his eyes probably appear to be bulging, his irises narrowed into slits. An uncontrollable smile makes his face sore, he can feel some of the divots in his lips crack, beginning to bleed from stretching his chapped lips so far. “Watch it there, Bucko, you need to hold that tongue before it gets you killed.”
The leader leans over Tomura’s face. “Where is the shit hole you psychos are holding up?”
Tomura giggles, a few snorts interrupting before he reigns himself back in. When he speaks, it’s in a low and slow sing-song voice. “There’s a place downtown where the freaks all come around,” he leans up, so close to being face to face with the other. “It’s a hole in the wall,” Tomura feels steel-toed boots meet his gut, forcing him back down as he finishes. “It’s a dirty free for all,” Tomura grits the last part out through his teeth. The heel of the boot rests on his lower thigh, just above his knee before digging down painfully. And Tomura just smiles unnervingly.
“Filthy lowlife.” The man turns to the others. "Dismissed for now. I'll write up a new letter to try to locate the rest."
And with that, they leave, but not before the leader kicks the side of Tomura’s head, making him dizzy as pain blossoms in his skull.
The man slams the door behind him on the way out. Arrogant fucking filfth. He marches down the hall to his desk. The hour just turned; it’s a new day, a new letter.
The leader is shaken out of thought by a glow of blue enveloping his body before the light roughly pulls him into a dark hallway. He’s launched onto the deck of a boat.
Coughing, he blinks as he tries to regain his breath. Gasping, he feels the weight of something heavy press against his pelvic bone. He looks up to meet an immense look of anger hiding behind large shades and a smile. “I will ask you one time. Where are my little brothers?”
He tries to focus, the giant magnet pinning him against the deck painfully. “Who?”
The person above him shakes their head, pressing further against him and leaning closer over him. “Not the correct answer. Where. Are. My. Boys.”
The man resorts to begging and screaming for help.
Magne just smiles wider, his screams being drowned out by the chaos ensuing in other places around the boat house, a banshee scream echoing through the walls from elsewhere.
“No one is coming to save you.” Resting her elbow on her magnet, Big Sis takes a step up, pressing her heel to the center of the man’s chest as he claws helplessly at her ankle. She’s going to make this man regret the day he was ever born.
~
Sako steps into a dark room illuminated softly by camera screens viewing the entire base. Two men are watching, bullshitting with each other, only noticing his presence when he clears his throat.
“Good evening gentlemen.” Sako steps farther into the room, approaching one of the men. “I’d normally apologize for interrupting but,” he reaches out and compresses the first man before turning to the other man, who is about to take a step towards him.
An ear-piercing scream from far off causes the remaining man to jump out of his skin.
Sako smirks under his mask, halfheartedly tossing the marble to the man’s face. When the other gives into the instinctive urge to shield himself, Sako rushes forward to compress him as well, letting both orbs fall to the ground and shatter. “But unfortunately, it appears I’m not in the mood for being friendly.”
Sako looks to the screens before a panel of buttons and switches catches his attention. "Let the show begin."
~
The man with the gruff voice reaches the lounge room filled with people, joining the table of others playing poker. “Deal me in.”
“Where’s boss?”
“Pretty sure he went back to his office. He was pissed over the lack of answers so we let him be.” The man begins to sort his cards in a random order. “Did you guys see Endeavor’s fight in the news?”
“Fuck yeah I did. He’s one hell of a-”
The conversation is cut by the bone chilling sound of a scream, one that is loud and far, lasting for seconds that feel like minutes. Not long after that, the lights flicker off.
No one moves even a hair; soon the lights turn on as quickly as they had gone out.
“What was that?”
The lights go out once more, only this time it’s accompanied by the sound of metal being dragged against steel, causing all of them to cringe.
At the doorway, Toga and Spinner are armed to the teeth with knives. The lights flicker once more.
Spinner is the first one to move, running as he drags his claws against the floor, making everyone flinch. He slices at the throat of the person closest to him, blood pooling out from the raptured flesh. Shuichi's anger bleeds as much as the slashed throat.
When the lights switch off again, Toga makes her move. Once the lights turn back on, she’s holding a knife before someone’s eye. She ravishes in the fear that they immediately drown in. “We’re going to bathe in all of your blood tonight," she coos.
An unnerving smile crosses Toga’s lips as the man before her screams when she takes his eye.
The knifed duo stay in the room a long while, painting the walls red and adding touches of gore decor. Screams from all around drown each other out, only one scream sounding louder than them all.
~
A petite man has his nose buried in a book as he lounges in the custodian’s room; the only place he can get any form of peace and quiet.
The stench of the dead bodies of villains and morally incorrect vigilantes doesn’t bother him as much as it used to. They just need to get this batch out of the boat house soon before the smell draws attention. Once the league is dealt with, the bodies will be dismembered and dumped in the waters near the Americas. Then soon they'll rinse and repeat: lure more groups, dismember, drop them in the ocean.
His only solace these days are his books. He sits in the corner and tries to make himself comfortable.
Just when the man is finally able to bring himself to relax, one of the trash cans is knocked over.
“Hello?” The man is tensed, eyes sweeping the room trying to find which one of his asshole coworkers is playing games this time. “Can y’a- y’all just fuck off?” His voice quivers and shakes; a leaf in the wind.
Another trash can is pushed over, trash strewn across the room.
Now a wave of anger enters him as he jumps to his feet. Those ba-
He freezes in his tracks when he sees a form slowly turning towards him, a blond man with an ugly scar on his forehead, black mist surrounding him, falling from his mouth and clouding his eyes entirely. He feels his stomach drop. The large shadow looming over the ghost of a man has two yellow glowing orbs that pierce through him.
His breath isn’t moving as the ghost is fully facing him from across the room. The air grows thicker by the minute until he can barely breathe.
A banshee scream fills the room in a second, it echoes off the walls and into his ears. In that same instant, the ghost rushes to appear before him, the screaming now becoming much louder, absolutely petrifying and turns him pale. The scream is blood curdling, causing his heart to stop.
The mist envelops his midsection, cutting into him before going clean through; he drowns in pain before he’s able to fall unconscious, blood soaking the pages of his book.
Soon, the boat house is engulfed in deep blue flames, the golden sunlight of day's first hour hugging the league as they watch the building come crashing down. When everything is quiet once more, the ash and dust settles to rest. The book still laying there, singed and soaked in blood. The title Of Mice & Men sleeping in death.