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The bruising on Nightmare's bones has scarcely started to heal by the time he starts limping around the castle. Killer would like to reprimand him, but really, what good would it do? He was hardly one for listening, after all — why would his charge listen to a hypocrite?
Plus, Killer's never been one for babysitting. (He's never really been around children, come to think of it. Children generally didn't attract his kind.)
He does, however, take to trailing his master as he limps across the grounds. Frankly, it does them both good — for Nightmare, Killer can guess that it gives him some semblance of control, instead of being cooped up. For his part, it's nice to feel the damp grass at his ankles and watch the sky grow dark through the willow branches at night. Everything is very different up here since the last time he was called upon.
Killer's always been a bit sentimental, he supposes. Or maybe he just has some standards — he's always disliked killing for killing's sake, but killing for revenge… now, that was his style. Revenge was fun , revenge was a cause .
And frankly, Killer likes when the revenge is justified, when it's deserved. And the revenge Nightmare is searching for is just that.
After all, children didn't generally attract his kind — they were too pure, too innocent. Unless, of course, some adult had taken them and hurt them.
(Maybe that's why Killer likes Nightmare more than his past contractors — some sort of twisted duty to a child who'd been hurt irreparably.)
By the time the sky has darkened to deep, dark blue, Killer tracks his charge to the courtyard garden, where he sits on a stone bench beneath trellises of wisteria. He looks uncomfortable, frankly — one leg is stretched out in front of him, and his posture is hunched.
"Boss," Killer says gently. "C'mon, it's late."
Nightmare glares at him, but it's like getting hissed at by a kitten — hardly threatening. "I specifically requested that you not baby me."
"That you did, but I can't have y'dying from catching a cold because you were too stubborn to ask for help," Killer replies with a shrug. Nightmare growls, though Killer isn't quite sure if it's directed towards him, since his charge puts a hand over his right socket as he does. "It's still bothering you?"
"No," Nightmare grunts. "The mark is fine. The crack…" He doesn't finish, but Killer knows what he's talking about.
Fools that they were, the humans had nearly killed Nightmare by cracking his skull open. The crack split into his eyesocket, and a large portion of his skull was missing above it. The shape of the socket could still be seen, above his cheek and beside his nasal ridge. What remained of the socket held the icy blue eyelight that Nightmare had gained as a result of their contract, a matched pair to the crescent moon shape that Killer's exposed soul held.
"I'll put more salve on the edges tomorrow morning," Killer assures him. "Eventually they'll heal."
Nightmare huffs in reply, before standing up with a grunt. He leans heavily on the bench for a moment, before he takes Killer's proffered elbow with a glare that could curdle milk — if, perhaps, the milk was already soured.
(Killer may be biased, though. It's hard to find a child threatening when you've seen them at their lowest. And when you're a demon who's seen much, much worse.)
"Have you found anything?" Nightmare demands as they move slowly through the castle halls. Torches light the hallways with a slightly green glow, a last remnant of Nightmare's mother. Most of the others, especially in the library, now glowed faintly bluish with Nightmare magic, not used to fire, and some were red-orange from Killer.
There was a lone candle in the bedroom beside Nightmare's that shone yellow, and Nightmare refused to put it out. Secretly, Killer took pains to ensure it wouldn't go out accidentally.
"Mm, not yet, but the capital is starting to do autopsies. Soon we'll have a list of them, and then I'll have something to track," Killer says easily. "I've got a friend with an excellent nose, actually — I might be able to entice him into helping…"
"Another demon?" Nightmare raises a brow. "I've only one soul, you know."
"Of course, boss," Killer laughs. "Nah, this would be on my dime, but he's a good friend. Plus, we do need some staff, and he's a great cook!"
"I suppose we do," his charge murmurs. "A cook would be a good start, considering…"
Considering Nightmare could make oatmeal, and Killer had once burned water on the gas stove.
"Yeah, considering," he laughs in agreement. He holds Nightmare's bedroom door open with his free hand. "He ain't the contract-makin' type, anyway. He remembers bein' alive too much."
"You were alive?" Nightmare asks as he sits heavily on the bed. Beneath his words, there's a short groan of relief as he stretches his leg out once more.
Killer starts untying Nightmare's boots as he explains, "Eh, not really. He was, once. Long time ago, but still pretty recent. Got another buddy who might've been too, but I'm not sure he remembers. He's good at findin' info too… Might be worth callin' him."
"And this would be at no cost to me?" Nightmare asks skeptically.
"Well, I gotta tell you, boss," Killer grins, leaning up close to his charge. "You've got my interest, and frankly, I happen t'like you!"
"I take it that isn't supposed to happen," his charge grunts, pushing him away.
"Heh, not generally," he agrees. "But I don't deal with a ton of children… What can I say, I got a soft spot for little broken things."
Nightmare scowls at him. "Fuck you."
"Hardly becoming language for a nobleman!" Killer crows, handing Nightmare his nightshirt. Gentler, he says, "All I mean, boss, is that I usually get stuck with people who want power for power's sake. Violence just to see the world burn. 'S nice hanging around someone whose revenge comes with cause."
His charge looks unconvinced and unimpressed, but his scowl softens a bit when Killer adds, "Plus, I was being literal when I said they're not the contract-makin' types. They're demons, maybe, sure — but not like me."
"Lesser ranking, then."
"You could say that, I guess." Killer taps his fingers against his jaw, thinking. "Mostly younger than me, as demons. Lotsa younger ones aren't into the contract stuff. Especially… hm, actually, he might be useful to us the most."
"Who?"
"Oh, just a friend… not quite a demon, but he'll have an easy time sniffing out your cult, I imagine, not to mention that he'll take on your revenge as his own." Killer smiles. "Call him a kindred spirit. Similar story. Different ending."
Nightmare looks confused, but doesn't argue when Killer closes his fingers over the wick of his bedside torch. "Goodnight, boss."
"...Goodnight, Killer."