Chapter Text
CRACK
Jesus, people couldn’t just get out of hir way, could they?
An exasperated sigh pulls through vels mask as the axe is brought back up, stained bright red as the thief slumps slowly to the alley floor.
Dead, you don’t exactly live after an axe is put through your skull. Welp.. At least that’s one fucker out of the way.
The ‘vigilante’ steps into the clear street, humming a quick illusion around the weapon currently dripping blood onto the street. They’ll notice later, but it’s no bother.
Rose never leaves fingerprints.
Oh, speaking of that.. a quick text sent to an acquaintance, hell knows bloom will appreciate the snack. His spawn will as well, though for other reasons.
Thorns nose crinkles at the thought, sey knows full well it’s cooked before, but that doesn’t make the ides anymore appealing. Especially considering hel has had the kids cooking, ze knows damn well it’s good.
Doesn’t make the fact that it ate people without noticing any better. At least it didn’t do anything, the god snorts softly and picks at a scab tinted golden.
Ah, there’s that stupid little flare of magic, the pendant has to be in this city somewhere.. May as well spend a few hours searching, blackened feathers spreading out under an illusion of a lullaby.
They’re a bit wet from blood, rose will have to get the spawns help preening them later… The thought spreads a smile across masked face, and the god sets off for another night of flight.
-•-•-
(knock knock)
..Damnit.
It materializes on soft carpet with a faint thunk, shaking the extra static from ends limbs and staring at the closed bedroom door. End knows by the way the knocks rap against the door roughly that its some of parents undead, meaning it can take its time.
What did they need this time?
-
Oh! A gift! A hero this time, which will make this more fun. End hums a soft tune as it prepares, shifting some curing meat and adjusting the wall of heads to fit another. Just little things, cleaning the platform and emptying the bucket, all that.
Eventually it returns to the body, stripping him of most of his clothing before hopping up to the balcony, tying his feet together and tying him to one of the many steel poles that line the ceiling.
Stabbed in the back, huh? Not parents work then, especially not with the twist.. It never ruins the meat, not like this.
Hm..
He still works fine, evident to the buckets set under him and the quick slash across his throat, head tied back to allow as much blood as possible to drain. End still laughs a little once it’s done, they always look like oversized deer.
Well.
This is all to do for now, end steps out of the freezer area and cleans the table where the corpse was left, spraying a mix of bleach and stain remover that probably isn’t good for people with lungs, but.. it’s not as if anyone with working lungs lives here, hm?
At least, not for now.
-•-•-
It's early in the afternoon when the undead knock on ends door, the teenager within the room fiddling with its newest record.. Something from A Perfect Circle, most likely.
As the corpse shuffles away Mirach moves the needle off to the side, taking ends sweet time to get ready. It's not as if the bodies will mind, and ends parent won't be home for a few hours more.
-
..Hm?
It's not just a body on the kitchen table end finds, but someone still alive! Xe waves and rose's hand is.. coated in gold. Something in the teens expression darkens, and there's a soft sigh layered in static. Switchblade simply grins nervously.
"Let's take stock."
The god in front of it raises a brow at the words, a quiet realization before hy goes to speak, causing its jaw to click shut shortly after. Mirach gestures to xem and its hands stretch out to ends sides, a wince draws across pale features as hir wound shifts.
The shifter walks around Switchblade, helping ae shrug off teir leather jacket- sizzling gently against the ichor leaking from its side. Mirach’s hand twitches, keeps away from the burning gold as the deity of sound just stands there, almost nervously.
“I got stabbed.”
It's a silly addition with the clear stab wound right below ifs left rib, but Mirach hums in affirmation like end didn't already know. The two meet eyes, a quick raised brow is all it needs to confirm. The teenager leaves the foyer, and Switchblade follows, hand pressing back to enders side.
Patching zem up is the least of it, setting bell up in a guest room and threatening to drain cer of blood if ney moves an inch while it's gone. Switchblade laughs and nods along, the ravens wings on hir back stretched across the blankets.
As Mirach leaves end flickers at the edges, eyes closing for a moment to hide vitriol yellow.
-...-...-...-
Following a trail of liquid gold is insultingly easy, static wavering itself through walls and into an alleyway, watching silently as a man in a simple suit curses vehemently, holding onto his hand.
With a bit of further watching, the burns are clearly from splattered ichor.
Bingo.
Spawn starts to gather together, static blurring the edges of the man's vision, muddy blue eyes flickering violently, unable to figure out what's making his sight so odd. A few minutes of quiet, too quiet, before the gentle sound of heels on concrete. The man gradually tenses as the noise gets louder, louder, and then.. stops.
Nothing happens. It's quiet, quiet, as if whoever was in the neighboring alley was abruptly yanked away.. Or took such loud articles off, replacing them with something else. But nothing happens, as it's quiet as can be.
Quiet.. quiet.
And then. And then. And then, he’s surrounded by red, red, the stench of metal as he chokes on his own life, burnt hands scrambling to cover the slashes across his throat.
It's no use, three claw marks reaching and scraping across his trachea, grinding such an ugly sound. It's no use as his eyes roll back, sputtering breaths easily to a stop. One, two, three, four gallons of his blood soak easily into the cobble and dry dirt, interrupted only by bare feet stepping up to the new corpse.
A soft grin stretches up, teeth sharp, ash white.
Matching Its eyes the creature leans down, cutting the man's shirt and slowly relieving him of his insides, intestines miles wide spread in an easy circle around him. Looped again and again, they're still connected to other organs as they make art around him.
His heart is left where it belongs, drained and left pale in the panic of its undoing.
His skull is crushed- eyes settled among his intestines with tongue and cheek to match.
Brain matter is sprinkled about like Parmesan, pink-red art made from such ugly items.
A quiet humming fills the spaces between blood and oil, ribs snapped and spread wide, lungs shifted aside for a perfect view of an empty heart. All in all it's a presentation, for someone, someone.
It'll make a good news headline, a man murdered, burned by the blood of gods. It wonders what title they'll give it this time, compared to The Butcher, or Masquerade.
It doesn't really matter, as this present is only for one person. One person, with raven feathers spread across blankets, xyr wounds cared for, hir smile quiet and genuine.
-•-•-