Chapter Text
Mischa Bachinski does not have murderous tendencies.
Or at least he didn't.
The whole thing started with the dreams. Just two weeks before the St. Cassian Chamber Choir’s next competition, Mischa started getting dreams.
It was good to note that it wasn’t often that Mischa had dreams, and when he did, there was no talking in any of them. These dreams were different.
They all consisted of almost the same thing. Mischa was stuck in a warehouse, and the only living breathing (if you could even call it that) thing there, was a fortune teller machine. Sometimes, Mischa would put a coin in and let it rip, other times, it would work on its own. But every time, it showed him images of Noel (His boyfriend) getting hurt.
Him and Noel had been friends for quite a few years, ever since Mischa moved here, and they’d started dating a little less than a year ago. Mischa was quite attached to the boy, and he’d do anything to keep him from getting hurt.
And yet, these dreams just kept hurting him, things that Mischa had seen, and things that he hadn’t. His blood boiled every time he saw this and just before he woke up in a cold sweat, he’d get this message:
“ The wolf will have to make sacrifices for the rabbit before the time runs out. “
It made no sense, and for days he searched the phrase and wracked his brain over what it could mean.
“Mischa, are you okay? You look really tired…” Constance chimed in one day during choir. He was half asleep, nodding on and off in his seat.
“ I am. “ Mischa huffed. “ I have been having nightmares” he confessed, rubbing his eyes to try and stay awake.
Noel came to his side, resting a hand on his arm in the comforting way he always did. “ Do you know what’s causing it?“ he asked. Mischa shook his head.
“It’s probably just stress. “ Penny piped up.
“And, that means it will all be over once the competition is over!” Ocean said. “ So the harder we work, the faster we can get this out of the way, and the faster you’ll feel better! C’mon everyone! Up Up! “
Mischa’s blood boiled.
Four days before the competition, his dreams got worse.
Suddenly, the sounds of ticking clocks filled his brain, and in his dream, his blood boiled. It boiled so much that it began to spill out of his mouth and choke him. All the while, the fortune teller repeated the same word, over and over, and over: “ KILL. KILL. KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL” He was in hell every night. But unfortunately for him, he was actually trying to keep a good sleep schedule for the competition. He couldn’t just stay awake to avoid it.
When the day of the fair came, where their competition was, Mischa loaded up on caffeine and headed out.
Just getting there, even with Constance driving, was tiring. He didn’t want to be here, but he didn’t exactly want to be asleep either.
“Mischa” Noel whispered from the seat next to him. “ I hate to say this, but you look like shit. “
Mischa simply grumbled in response, laying his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Noel, in return, ran his hand through Mischa’s hair.
When they got to the fair, They had time before their competition, so they walked around the fair a bit. They played games, rode rides, it was all fun! When the time came for the Competition, Mischa had almost made them late. He noticed something.
The Fortune Teller.
It was right next to where they had to perform. They had time. They could use it.
“ Mischa, this is a waste of time. “ Ocean almost spat. “We have to keep going. “
“Chill out, Ocean. “ Noel responded. “ We have time, and Mischa didn’t get to pick a single game. Let’s have some fun. “
Ocean begrudgingly agreed, and each of them took turns putting in a coin and hearing what the Machine had to say, usually a lucky number, and some vague prophecy. Whatever.
However, Mischa went last, Ocean urging the others to come and that Mischa could join them when he was done. Mischa was thankful, really, because he wasn’t sure if anything could have prepared his friends for the sudden change the Machine held.
“ The wolf will have to make sacrifices for the rabbit before the time runs out… your time starts now. “ a spike of fear ran through Mischa's heart. It repeated the message in his dream. And more so... It said his time started now.
What time? How much time did he have?
Mischa didn’t want to find out.
He hurried behind the choir, the messages and his dreams flowing through his mind as he followed them up onto the stage.
He tried not to let it distract him through the performance, but he knew it did. He knew it would have been better if he hadn’t gone to that Machine.
When the performance ended, Ocean began lecturing them on how they did, but Mischa wasn’t listening, because he noticed something.
The adjudicators had left all their sheets just on the table around the corner. They were there, free for the taking. Sure, someone would know it was off but, maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe, he could rig this.
He knew what the outcome of a win would lead to. A Party. He hadn’t experienced one with the choir yet, but Ocean and Noel talked about it so frequently, that he knew exactly what the outcome would be.
So, he slipped away. He wanted to make his friends happy. He wanted to make Noel happy. And if he had to rig the vote to do that, he would.
He was quick to erase whatever low grades they had, and raise them all to superiors, before returning them to their rightful place. From what he saw last year, one judge would sit and read the scores to themselves then announce the placing based on the scores, so as he came back to the group (thank god no one had noticed he was missing) he knew he didn’t have to worry.
It was not long after that the Judges came back, and exactly what he predicted came to pass. One judge took all the sheets, read it to themselves, and then announced their position. 1st place.
Mischa couldn't tell you the excitement on the other members of the Choir's faces. Mischa almost felt like the fortune-telling Machine himself. Noel especially was happy, them finally bouncing back up after getting second place last year. Mischa knew nothing would beat the look on his face.
The group ended up soon heading to the Cyclone, Constance’s favorite ride. She looked so excited, but Mischa had a bad feeling.
“How about we get food first? “ Mischa had tried as the girls tried to rush ahead to get on the ride. “ The coaster will still be here in 20 minutes. “
That was at 6:15 PM.
And the roller coaster was in fact not there in 20 minutes.
By the time the group got back, they found the coaster had crashed. It was a tragedy. And Mischa couldn't help but feel bad… not that the coaster had crashed or that people had died…but that he didn't let his fellow choir mates get on.
Everything in his body was screaming at him for it. That he should have just taken Noel and let the rest of them go. He didn’t even feel bad for thinking these things.
Later that night, after everyone had gone back home, Mischa had somehow found a way to sneak back into the fairgrounds.
Everything had been hastily packed up due to the crash, and Mischa couldn’t help but feel drawn to the place. It’s not like he wanted to sleep… and he had his adoptive parents' car… So what better to do?
What he was not prepared for, was finding the warehouse he’d seen in his dreams. Everything was so hastily packed and it almost looked like a stage if you looked hard enough. From there, Mischa was able to find that damn fortune-telling machine. Somehow, for some reason, the thing was plugged in. Good.
His heart was pounding, the idea of being here set him off and he felt like he’d start choking any moment. But he had questions, and if this thing had the answers he was gonna get them.
Maybe he was going a little insane, to think that a fortune-telling machine had all the answers…but he had to try right?
He walked up to the thing, banging on its plexiglass. “You’re not normal.“ Mischa choked out. “ What the fuck is going on? “
The machine made a few whirring sounds before it turned its head to look at Mischa. It sat like that for a moment, almost as if it was studying him. Then, it spoke.
“ Mischa Bachinski, born August 18th, Leo, sign of aggression. Favorite ride: the Shooting Gallery…The angriest boy in town. “
Mischa was taken back, so back that he almost fell off the step that led up to the Machine. Almost. He mostly kept his cool. “You- “
“I can help you, Mischa. “ The Machine spoke. Mischa finally took in the name that was written on the Machine.
The Amazing Karnak.
“All you have to do is what I’ve asked of you. “
Mischa felt like he was gonna shit himself. “ What do you mean?” he asked quietly.
“ You know what I mean, Mischa. “
There was only one thing that rang in his head. KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL-
“Your friends are having a party. I’ll play with the lights, and the locks…all you need to do is complete your mission. And you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. As long as you complete your mission. “ Karnak spoke, before turning its head back to his default position.
“Hey…HEY! What the hell does that mean!?” The Machine didn’t respond. Instead. It just turned off.
Mischa prodded at it for a while, but eventually, he had no other choice but to return home.
2 days later was when Noel was hosting the 1st place party. And by that morning… Mischa had made a decision.
Noel’s mother was never good to him. In fact, she was downright horrible to him. And Mischa knew if he had to comply with this mission… She would be first.
She was leaving town early this morning for some business meeting. Noel had told Mischa exactly where, and when, and Mischa knew that she would never make it there. At least not on two feet.
He drove for a while, probably the farthest he’s ever driven before in his life before he found her car parked at a gas station. In the middle of nowhere with no cameras… perfect.
He put on a mask, just as a precaution. If she did survive, or if there were cameras hidden around where he didn’t know… he would at least be safe.
He waited until she came around the corner back to her car to pounce. And when she did, he threw her to the ground, shoving her face in the dirt and kicking her as hard as he could.
Mischa had been angry for a long time, but violent? Never. Not until now… And the thing is? It felt good. Beating the shit out of a woman who had inflicted so much pain on those around her. Physically and mentally…felt good.
Then Mischa realized. Maybe he didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t exactly want Noel to get taken off to who knows where because he was an orphan now…so maybe, Mischa thought he could teach her a lesson.
So, he put on his best American accent (American was easier, plus it gave him less suspicion) and grabbed the bat he’d brought along with him. Ready to hit her hard.
“This is what you get.” He spoke, keeping his sentences short in fear of letting on his broken English. “For all the abuse.” Hit. “ and Shame. “ Wack. “And fear ” Bang. “You’ve instilled in your loved ones. ”
And then he stopped. She was bloodied and bruised, and Mischa worried if he went much farther, he’d actually kill her. So he didn’t. He just stopped and walked back to the car. And left.
He’d spent more time there than he thought he did. It was a rush to get home and shower before he could go to the party. Although Noel’s mother wasn’t dead, she sure as hell bled easily, and Mischa saw that it was all over his hands…no matter how hard he tried to scrub it off… it was still stained.
But he didn’t have enough time to sit and scrub more. He could just say he was cold. Or he’d been painting. It wasn’t exactly unbelievable. He liked to paint in his free time.
So, off he went to the party, a storm was beginning to roll in. and he’d made his decision. He was going through with this. Whether he liked it or not.
He was later than he wanted to be. But still on time. He was just glad he wasn’t super duper worried about it. (because he definitely wasn’t)
“Let’s get this party started,” he mumbled to himself as he entered.
Mischa Bachinski was about to become a lot more violent.