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“Cici?” The tri-major student looked up from his final's project, his hands pausing mid-motion. Petunia stood at the door, her feet shifting as she peeked from behind the door, her face molded with anxiety as she met the student’s eyes. “Yes, Petunia?” The blue-haired student asked, his head tilting at the nervous energy from the woman as she stepped into his room. Her arms held a few blankets and her soft cloud plushie, “Would it be okay if I sleep with you tonight? I could sleep on the floor or …” Cici righted his head up and then folded his knitting needles into the sleeve, he crammed the project into his yarn bag, and then flung the bag into the opened closet with a swift throw.
Petunia watched the bag fly into the closet and gently thump against the closet’s wall, she blinked blankly and then looked back to see the blue-haired student patting the side of the bed. She giggled when she heard the soft shout from Daisy down the hall for Cici to be quiet.
The bubblegum-haired woman shook her head slightly and waddled over to Cici who opened his arms up like he was getting a big hug. Then Petunia slipped onto the silk sheets and she laughed when Cici wrapped his arms around her waist and plopped backward while she squealed in laughter, the duo shifted around and the male pulled the blankets from his bed over the duo while Petunia flared out her blankets over the both of them.
Despite what some people would think or say about the group getting together in one bed, the group of roommates do not get themselves involved in intercourse, but they rather like to cuddle. It was against Radley and Daisy’s religious beliefs, but both don't mind a cuddle pile, they don’t like the idea of multiple pairings in bed. But they accept the idea of someone resting next to them. Petunia can sleep like a rock, if she falls asleep on someone, she’ll latch onto them and never let go- which gives them the perfect opportunity to stay still and do nothing. Cici is often the victim of these moments only because Petunia finds him to be the “best napping buddy”.
Cici likes to nap, he’ll admit that sometimes he naps too much and that can interrupt his work but he also knows that napping with Petunia is the best way to get his turn out of cooking (which Sal is always happy to hear because he has to swallow down Cici’s ‘poor attempt of a meal’). The pink-haired composer nuzzled her cheek on the chest of the tri-major student, her hair pulled off to the side as Cici started to thread his fingers through the bubblegum-dyed hair, and the woman made a soft sound that sounded like a “purr”.
The duo lay for a few moments, allowing their bodies to become weighted and for the pink-haired student to try and get comfortable while she gets some sleep. Cici was more awake as he continued his ministrations of threading his hands through her hair, his mind occupied as he felt the steady breaths of Petunia ease.
Cici had “locked” himself away in his room to get his mind off of the return of Allin's cancer. The student had yet to tell his roommates about the situation, hell, he hadn’t even told them that he had a brother. He often tries to keep his family life quiet as he doesn’t want a lot of questions to be asked, especially about the brother’s family life- a life that Cici doesn’t want to remember. He shifted around to sink deeper under the covers and to better hold the pinkette as she started to snooze, her soft hair tickling the underside of the jaw of the art student.
Cici stared up at his ceiling, the outline of the glow-in-the-dark stars poking out and his curtains weren’t closed, which allowed the street lights outside to glow across his carpeted floor. The fashion student pulled his arm away to turn off the light by his bed and once the light went out, the stars brightened up, and the street light acted as a “night light”, and the tri-major student fell into a slumbering sleep. His body became heavy, his mind drifting away from the reality of bills, school, and his brother’s broken eyes.
Broken eyes.
Broken plates.
Broken from the fifth foster mother who was drunk and throwing plates at Allin because he stumbled into her.
Broken bottles pierced Cici’s bare feet as he ran through the junkyard to get away from the older teens who cackled like hyenas, Allin was sobbing in his shoulder as he tripped- a cry of pain bit back as he scraped under the chain-link fence and into a busy road where cars honked and a couple opened their arms to shield him and Allin from the teens.
Broken eyes.
Broken plates and glass.
Opened pill bottles where he watched Allin shake as he held the set of pills that’ll help him keep his food down.
The broken windows of the shitty motel they stayed at because they were being hunted by an old timer who wanted to shoot their heads off.
Everything was breaking around him, he had to keep the pieces together or god, he’d lose everything he built. All the cuts, stitches, and drops of blood he molded with glass would break and he wouldn’t be able to-
He grunted as he felt a sharp jab into his chest, the different-blue-shaded-eyed male blinked his eyes open as he looked down, and he wrinkled his nose. He found Petunia sitting up, her hands on Cici’s chest while her eyes were trained on the window, her eyes wide and her mouth partially opened like she was about to call out. It was an expression of fear- one that Cici recognized because he’d seen it before in others. The blue-haired student raised his hands and gently laid them on the pinkette’s bare shoulders, his thumbs rubbing up and down, avoiding the straps of the nightgown that Petunia wore. Cici whispered to the woman, “Petunia? You feeling alright?” The pinkette blinked, her expression of fear turned into nervousness- her face turning to face him and she smiled. She faked her smile which already set off a warning bell in Cici’s mind, and then she said, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just thought I saw something.”
Cici knows Petunia. So does Sal and he would agree that Petunia was hiding something. She looked panicked, afraid, nervous, and very uneasy. Cici lowered his hands to rest atop her’s, “Do you want to leave? I could-” He cut himself off at the return of absolute fear in the composer’s eyes, “No- no! I’ll… I’ll be fine. I thought I saw something, you know Radley’s been playing those scary RPG games with the monsters. I just spooked myself. Let’s go back to sleep… please.” She begged. And while she was telling the truth about Radley’s newest obsession with the Resident Evil franchise, it didn't sway Cici.
The theater student nodded his head and rewrapped his arms around Petunia’s shoulders, he dragged them down to her waist, and then with an “oof”, he flipped them both on their sides. Petunia slept on the right, closest to the wall while Cici slept on the left, with his back to the door and window. He pulled his right arm up and cupped Petunia’s cheek with his hand, a gentle reassurance that he was here, he was going to protect her, and it seemed to have eased the pinkette. He closed his eyes right as the pinkette did and while the haunting visage of his brother’s eyes haunted him, so did the fear in Petunia’s eyes.
He has to know what happened.
…
…
…
He noticed she started to double-check the locks on the windows and doors. He shrugged it off like it was just a little fear but then he got a text while he was out from Petunia to buy at least six new door locks because "the others were rusty and old and could break easily". Cici shrugged, he had the money to buy them and even coming home, he noted how closed off Petunia was when she fiddled with opening the packaging to get to the locks, the subtle shake in her hands as she screwed in the new locks and the fake smile she wore when Sal asked her in sign language for the reason of this change, and she said, “I would feel safer if we had some secure locks. Not the rusty ones the building has.”
Cici wondered if the landlord was okay with this but then again, the landlord didn’t care so much about what any of his tenants did so long as they didn't break the law or bother the neighbors. Cici started to get suspicious when Petunia started to talk about taking the bus from school to work. She despised the bus and her reason was for how unsanitary it was sometimes and that wasn’t what made Cici finally note that Petunia wasn’t being herself.
It wasn't just the nervous glances, the insistence on checking the locks, the clinginess of her with the others, or her sudden likeness to traveling on the bus. It was the panic in her voice.
He just finished his arts class when Petunia called him, her voice was pitched as she said that she wanted to meet up for lunch, which was off since she had her musical composition class during lunchtime, Cici agreed and he noticed the shake in the woman’s shoulders. She kept glancing around her as if looking out for someone, she would scoot closer to him if a male or female with a black sweatshirt with the hood up walked too close to her, and at some point, she stayed in the ladies' restroom for about thirty minutes before coming out, and even then, she slowly came out like she was surveilling the place for an attacker.
Cici wanted to ask, he did, but that look in her eyes said it all. She wasn’t going to say anything and he knew that no amount of prying would work. Cici would mention this list of things to Daisy and Sal, and much to his displeasure, they waved it off as Petunia being a little paranoid. “She has been staying up late with Radley, playing those awful scary games,” Daisy pointed out and Sal seemed to agree. He did mention that he was a little worried about her insistence on the new locks but he quickly forgot that worry when he claimed that he saw a suspicious person hovering near their apartment, being thankful for Petunia's paranoia to change the locks on the doors and windows (which if the psychology student had looked at Petunia’s face when he signed it, then he would have noted the widening eyes of the pinkette that spoke volumes of fear).
Cici hinted at Petunia that he knows, he knows something is wrong but she refuses to acknowledge his awareness of it. He did try, one time, to confront her but she pushed it away- all in the name of the others in the other room to not hear, she whispered with panic in her eyes and voice, “Leave it be. It’s my problem to deal with.” And if Cici was a lesser man, he would have dropped it, shrugged, and ignored it. But he has been and seen the things that can make any sane person go mad with panic. He knows that feeling and he has this feeling that Petunia was in danger.
…
…
…
It always had to be around the time that no one was home. Cici didn’t think he would need to start double-checking the locks alongside Petunia until that day. He parked his blue Kia Soul on the side of his apartment building. He popped out with keys in hand and his voice humming a silly song. A song that Petunia composed for him for his birthday. He reached into the back and pulled out this week’s groceries and miscellaneous items. He started to whistle as he closed his doors, locking his car, and making sure his wallet was in his sweatshirt pocket.
He had his head down, just whistling and spacing out, and when he turned to go up the stairs, he heard a rather one-sided conversation. He stopped whistling as he listened to the ramble of some man above him, rambling about how hot someone looked in a bathing suit. Now, there are a few neighbors who knock on the five’s door wearing little to no clothes, asking for help getting their door unjammed, or asking for salt. One time, Radley swears up and down, that one lady knocked on the door naked when he was alone. No one believed him until Sal and Daisy met the same woman who was naked again as she knocked on the door.
But when Cici came around the bend of the stairs to the second level, the ramblings were starting to become more explicit. The man was talking about someone’s body, like a marble statue, and how he started to describe what he would do to that body made Cici frown, his gut twisting. He stepped up to the second floor, his head rising, and that gut feeling turned into a raging storm. A seedy man pinned Petunia to the wall, her backpack discarded while the man was rambling about Petunia’s “petite figure”, the man was wearing a dark jacket while his sweatpants were sagging, you could see the color of his underwear and Cici noticed how close the man’s abdomen was to Petunia’s as if he was about to touch her.
Cici stared, his curled fists tightening as his brow furrowed, and his mouth pulled into a scowl. Now he knows why Petunia was acting so scared- she was being harassed and stalked. He felt his insides start to char, his eyes blurring as his ears ringed static, the words of the seedy man replaying in his mind while Petunia tried to merge with the concrete wall. And while the emotions inside started to build, Cici rolled his shoulders back and silently cleared his throat.
*“Qui es-tu?”
The man snapped his head over to Cici, hazel eyes that were blurred, and his mouth was slightly wet. Perhaps drooling. Petunia’s soft eyes lit up and she took this distraction to run to Cici, her arms linking around his waist as Cici pulled his left arm over her shoulder, pulling her back to get behind him. “Qui es-tu?” Cici repeated, his voice grating and his expression turning murderous.
He had his murderous expression on. The same one where his lips were thin, his eyes blank, and his face expressing little to no emotion with his mouth pulled into a scowl. “Fuck off bastard.” Cici bellowed, his faux-French accent coating his American voice, and this seemed to stop the seedy man from doing anything else. Cici noted the man’s hands dropped into his pants and his shuffle was not of shame, but of a silent promise to return.
The tri-major student didn’t take a second of waiting outside before he grasped the pinkette’s wrist and hustled her to the door, he opened it and nudged the woman inside while kicking her bag into the apartment and he slammed the door, rattling the frame as he double locked the door. His eyes pressed into the spy hole, watching the man peek around the corner of the staircase, watching the door, and then moving away. Cici stepped back and relaxed his shoulders.
He heard sniffling and turned to find Petunia staring down at her outfit, her beautiful flowing white blouse had a few dribbles of yellow stains on it, and Cici clicked that the man’s wet chin was from him drooling on Petunia. The blue-haired man didn’t know what was worse, Petunia’s sobs or the fact that he didn’t kill the man on the spot. The two students embraced one another, clutching onto each other as one held the female when she sobbed. She curled her hands into his sweatshirt while she slowly fell to her knees. Her sobs echoed in Cici’s ears as he felt himself being pulled away from reality to a time when he held his brother.
His brother was sobbing like Petunia; both cries filled with stress, fear, and sorrow. Cici kneeled on one knee while his body engulfed the weeping woman, his eyes wide as his hands threaded through the pinkette’s hair, and his face blank. Petunia sobbed as she inhaled stuttering breaths and gasping exhales that would make anyone’s chest ache, Cici kept her grounded- he started to hum the song she made and it seemed to bring her back. Her breaths were still heavy while she clung to the male.
It took a few more moments and Petunia did calm down. Cici stood with her and escorted her to her room, his body moving on autopilot while his mind allowed his voice to bring reassurances and promises to keep Petunia safe and to get the others involved to keep her safe until the man was either dealt with or gone. He entered the woman’s room which was ironically covered in pink LED lights, music notes, pinned-up posters of harps or musicians, and her bed was a layer of blankets of pink of all shades. The shake of the woman’s hands undid her blouse while Cici stood at her window and drew the curtains close. He heard the soft hiccup of the woman and when he turned back around, he quickly took Petunia back into his arms and hushed her as she started to sob again.
Cici pressed his lips to her crown and said to head to his room while he grabbed some drinks for the two of them. The pinkette nodded and shuffled to the tri-major student’s room, and when she disappeared around the corner, Cici picked up the blouse and tucked it into his sweatshirt pocket with his wallet, his fingers smoothing over the fabric while his mind planned out the next few steps. The first would be comforting Petunia until the other three got home and tucked themselves into a cuddle pile for her. Then he would enact his other plan for the man to…
Disappear .
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…
The other three had curled around Petunia as soon as they came home. Cici called them and demanded they drop whatever the hell they were doing and get home so they could help him comfort the woman who was shaking and crying softly in the background. The three entered and double-checked all the doors and windows, drawing the blinds and curtains closed, and piling on Cici’s bed to comfort the poor woman who bursted into tears when the other halves of the group reunited with the duo.
None of them moved for the whole time, they stayed collected together until the early gleam of dawn peeled through the blinds of the fashion student’s room. Cici’s eyelids opened halfway as he looked out the window. If he wanted to execute his plan, then he would need to go now. He pulled the arm of Radley off his waist while he slithered away from the vice grip of Daisy’s hand, and once he slipped into his shoes, he saw Petunia opening her eyes. He smiled softly and pressed his lips to her crown again, “I’ll be back by early lunch. I just need to hash some things out at work and I’ll be home with some food and ice cream. Strawberry, your favorite.” He promised.
And when Cici left the apartment, when he sat in his car, and once the engine roared to life with the sun ready to come out in two hours, Cici’s sleepy and roused personality disappeared. And the blue-haired student started to drive while his hand auto-dialed an associate. “Hey Jester man, what’s up?” A gruff voice full of sleep asked, “Hey Auto. I got a hit, do you need anything in particular?” The other voice grunted, “Whatever you can salvage.” And Cici ended the call. The driver circled the apartments, his target was predictable like every other seedy bastards that Cici knew.
He caught his target crossing the street to approach his apartment building, crossing the street to the back where he would scale the fire escape to try and peek into the rooms of the apartments to find Petunia’s room. Cici pressed on the gas and the hazel eyes widened in shock as the metal bumper slammed into his side and he went flying into the intersection. Cici opened his door and pulled out his zip ties and duct tape from under the seat as he approached the man, he rolled the man onto his back and quickly tied him up. The bastard gave no struggle as he was dragged into the trunk of the car where the tarp was neatly laid out and picked up the blood from the body.
Cici slammed the trunk closed and drove off with the warehouse in his sight.
…
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…
GORE AND TORTURE WARNING:
The warehouse’s chill woke the man up. He lazily blinked his eyes open while hissing in pain from his head which felt heavy and his left hip flared up. The man tried to pull his hands down to touch his side but he found his arms wiggling uselessly as he tried to pull away from the restraints of the zip ties and rope. The man raised his head and let out a muffled groan, his head pounded as he tried to pull his arms away from the metal hook that dispensed him a few feet above the ground.
The seedy man was shirtless while his feet and hands were tied together, his mouth covered by a soft fabric taped over with duct tape. The man started to frantically throttle around, the sound of his muffled cries alerted the male who was sharpening an axe. “Ah, you’re awake.” The mystery man sighed disappointedly. The man’s hazel eyes widened as he heard the voice, he looked over and found a silhouette of a man wearing some jester costume.
The black jumpsuit of the costume had blue diamonds on the knees, the hips, and down the chest. The sleeves of the jester costume were one white and one black with comically large wrist ruffles that nearly covered the hands, the jester spun around on his toes- like a ballerina as he skipped to the strung-up man. The face of the person was concealed with a white facemask that was half frowning and half smiling motif, underneath, he wore a massive smile. The cresting of the eyes that sharpened at the tightened-up hands of the hostage set off warning bells in the man’s head.
The darker complexion of the jesters' skin almost made him seem to blend into the darkness of the warehouse. The only light of the warehouse was directly above the man as he uselessly kicked to try to fruitlessly grab the jester. The big ruffled collar of the jester framed the face as menacing and with a hum of the jester, the man recognized who was before him.
He started to thrash frantically. “Tsk, tsk. No use in struggling now. You’re getting what you deserve.” The blue-haired jester shrugged. He swung his staff out from behind him, twirling it around in one hand like a dancer with a prop, the jester’s different-shaded-colored eyes stared at the staff; the staff was a wooden stick painted black, the top was a sphere painted a royal dark blue with three point-curling ends on the top of the ball- sort of looking like a blueberry sitting on the staff’s top.
The man struggled a little more, screaming behind his sealed mouth, heavily breathing through his nose. “Now, now, young man… Don’t get so worked up. We’re just starting the fun! After all, we need a freak for the circus!” The jester cooed. The jester’s smile widened underneath the mask as he pulled the staff to his shoulder like he was batting at baseball and with a single spin like a ballerina, the staff came down onto the wounded hip. The man screamed.
Cici hummed as he repeated the motion, slamming his blueberry staff into the wounded hip until he heard a soft crack. He then spun the other way as he slammed the staff into the man’s head, splattering blood onto the staff, speckles of ruby liquid spraying on the white sleeve of the jester while the liquid tried to reach up to stain the puffy ruffled collar. The hostage groaned as he hung his head, swaying it back and forth which allowed Cici to raise his staff and slam it onto the face of the man.
This jostled the man as he was assaulted by the staff from all directions. His face started to redden from the beating and his nose started to dribble in blood. The jester paused and stepped back, not even breaking a sweat as he squinted at the bruising face of the man. “Hm… Needs a little more work.” The jester spun, his coattails fluttering with him as he disappeared into the darkness, the man groaned and gagged behind the tape as he felt blood rise in his throat. The jester looked over his instruments of weaponry. Guns, saws, knives, and spikes galore- all to make anyone who dares anger the jester- a husk of their former selves. Literally and metaphorically.
The jester turned his head to the moaning man as he started to thrash violently again, the bells on the jester’s split black and blue hat jingled as he bounced back to the man. The dark hand grabbed the tape and ripped it off which allowed the man to spit out the fabric drenched in gasoline to plop onto the floor with blood dribbling down his chin. The bastard coughed, splattering blood over his bruising chest, and the jester stepped back, “Ah! How could I forget the outfit?!” The jester turned around and pulled out a machete, he turned his head to see if the man was watching, and when the bleeding bastard saw the glint, he opened his mouth to beg for mercy but the jester was swift.
All the years of running from abusive foster parents, stress from bills, and the hunger for fairness in the world under the bright sun burned in the eyes of the jester as he sharply spun with the large knife slashing the man’s chest, it crisscrossed around the chest like a lashing being given from a whip. The man cried as the sharp edge of the machete dragged or swiftly sliced his thin skin, the jester even dragged the tip of the weapon down the man’s sternum to his abdomen. The blue-and-black jester retreated his face into the ruffles of the collar, the collar getting splatters of blood while the jester squinted when the ruby liquid nearly landed in his eyes.
The jester pulled back, humming a French tune, he then aimed the large knife above his shoulder with his elbows bent- reminiscing like a samurai charging into battle with the sword raised, but when the jester raised his weapon, he drove it deeply into the man’s abdomen. The blood splattered on the body of the jester, the ruby drops spraying and staining his white collar while coating his hands in blood. The man screamed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he struggled, his dirty tears rolling down his face.
“Oh… Boo hoo~ is the bastard crying because he’s hurt?” The jester pondered sadly, his bloody hands cupping his face, smearing the ruby liquid over his face. The man choked a cry as he spat, “You- fucking- why me!? Please, I’m sorry if I wronged you- please- please! Forgive me! I-I’ll pay you back- fuck- please- sp-stop!” But the jester’s face showed no signs of concern or mercy. The machete was left in the abdomen, the man squealed in anguish when he felt the silver blade jostle in his pelvis. The jester stood back, his eyes dark while he spoke in a monotone voice- as if he lost all excitement in the work he was doing on the bastard, “We need to do your makeup next.”
“Please, please, please, please don’t hurt me-” Then the bastard screamed when a knife lodged itself perfectly into his left shoulder. “Oh no… Oh no, no, no, no- I’m not letting a scum like you go!” The jester giggled, under his mask- the jester’s smile was growing wider and the giggles started to grow in volume and edge along the laughs of manic. The jester reached for a smaller knife and dragged up a step stool for the jester to sit in front of the man. He went back and pushed a mannequin forward. The mannequin was a torso and it wore a blouse that the man recognized. The blouse of the pink-haired beauty he was trying to talk to yesterday, the same blouse that the jester pointed his small dagger at.
“You know, my roommate bought that blouse for my friend, the friend you have been stalking and harassing , she told me about your advances,” the jester set up the step stool and stepped up to be above the man. The jester’s hand harshly grabbed the face of the bastard, the dagger pressed the man’s wet cheek- under the eye, and the jester started to drag down the knife. “My sweet blossom… Oh, my beautiful blossom~ She was so excited to wear that blouse for her music festivals as she played the harp.” The dagger suddenly jabbed into the man’s cheek which punctured into the mouth where the tongue was. The knife twisted and the jester yanked the blade out, a streak of metal liquid splashing across the jester’s mask and face, and the smile of the jester remained the same.
The man cried out in anguish when the blade was pulled out. “And! She looked divine in her flowing white blouse! It was like a flowing toga you would see on ancient Romans or Greeks- hell, you would see them on statues of Aphrodite! Oh goodness~” The jester chuckled as he looked up to the ceiling with a dopey smile on his face, “Her stage name should have been Aphrodite~” He mused. "Aphrodite, Aphrodite, Aphrodite~" He praised proudly as the jester imagined the pinkette playing her harp to a crowd while sitting on an open shell in the raging waters of the sea.
The jester switched hands and started to drag the dagger over the left eye, deep marks that resembled a sun’s rays around the eye, the man himself wiggling and opening and closing his mouth while trying to find his voice, but the hole in his cheek caused him to choke on the blood spilling out of his mouth and he gurgled the blood made him gag. The jester continued the pattern around the eye under which it was bleeding heavily, the liquid pooling and blinding the man as he tried to escape the grip of the jester, and the jester hummed happily. “Perfect! Now we need to teach you your act!” He pulled out a strip of tape to cover the man’s mouth, and then hopped off the stool and dragged it away.
The black and blue jester centered the mannequin in front of the bastard. “While we teach you your act, I want you to look at this blouse,” the jester pulled out a hatchet from behind the torso mannequin and pointed it at the man who started to thrash again, panic etched in his eyes, “I want you to think about what you did to my friend. I want you to repent what you did because I have dealt with your kind-” The jester propped his weapon on his shoulder as he lifted one of the sleeves of the blouse and kissed the ruffled ends, “Mon Aphrodite~ *Tu dois supporter la nuit solitaire encore un instant~”
The jester hummed as he pressed another kiss to the sleeve before dropping it slowly, he skipped to a gramophone, the record player sitting innocently as if awaiting to be used. The jester raised his bloody hand and started the record, the band crackled to life as the trumpet echoed in the warehouse. The jester’s coattails spun happily and perked up with each skip of the jester. “Ah- my Aphrodite’s favorite song~ Although,” he snrked as he said, “I think it should be renamed, “The Life of a Petunia”~”
“ Des yeux qui font baisser les miens,
Un rire qui se sur sa bouche-
Voilà le portrait sans retouches,
De l’homme auquel j’appartiens- ”
The man started to sob as the hatchet was buried into his side, the ‘whack’, ‘whack’, ‘whack’ of the hatchet dug into his hip- cutting into every muscle and tendon. Until the lower body starts to tear itself in half, the lower body tilts down. The jester dug the hatchet into the split open the hip of the bastard, the jester took out a knife and stabbed it into the muscle and tendon of the opened hip and the throttling of the man made the jester twist it to hear the man’s cries. Cici remembers pushing the drug-induced older brother from a foster family over the bridge, he chased Allin down with a knife and Cici was the only one who watched the boy’s neck go ‘SNAP’. Cici didn’t want to admit how much he loved listening to that sound of a bone breaking.
“ Quand il me prend dans ses bras,
Il me parle tout bas,
Je vois la vie en rose~ ”
The man wailed helplessly behind the tape as the jester started to stab the machete into the man’s nether regions as if to mock the bastard. The knife that was twisted into the halfway hanging lower half was pulled out and the face of the man was bloodier with the red staining the blue and white parts of the jester costume. The jester is feeling the liquid squelch in between his fingers as he shoves the carving knife into the man’s face to cut away the face and he slowly stares at the wild eyes. The jester remembers seeing such eyes in his foster fathers- the wild and untamed look that seemed to crave the violence to inflict upon him. Only him. His brother is too high priority, and if his brother is shown with bruises, then the men will be locked away or killed.
“ Il me dit des mots d’amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose ,”
The jester started to stab the hazel eyes, the life behind them was wild. Wild like an untamed horse running from the ranchers that wish to tame him, the life in his eyes must be snuffed out for he has done wrong. The bastard has tried to take the innocent life behind Aphrodite’s eyes, the blossom that has made him open and bloom around others who eyed him. The jester didn’t waste one second digging the knife into the eyes of the man and hoping to tame the life behind the wild look.
“ Quand il me prend dans ses bras,
Il me parle tout bas,
Je vois la vie en rose~ ”
Soon enough, the man was dead. Cici huffed fanatically as he stared at the body. His ears attuned themselves to the music while he straightened up. His body went into autopilot as he started to cut the man down, his body bleeding out while he carved the layers of skin, tissue, muscles, and tendons away- allowing the bloody hands to gently pull the ruined heart out of the man’s chest, the jester did not waste a second to move to the incinerator and throw the heart inside.
The smell bloomed under his nose, nearly making him gag, but he pressed on. He started to harvest the ribs- the only thing he didn’t break, and once all was done. He cleaned his hands, the harsh chemicals made Cici woozy but he pressed on.
The jester removed his blooded costume, he’ll have to have Auto clean it once he drops by. The warehouse started to light up the room, and Cici carefully pulled off the blouse and tsked at the smallest splatter of bloodstains. He heard three taps behind him and his eyes turned to the hulking man. Cici had never seen Auto’s face, it was covered by a fedora and a heavy trench coat. “Got all ribs, I need this blouse pressed and cleaned with the most gentle hands- I would like your wife to do it, and you can do with the rest.”
Auto nodded and patted the jester’s shoulder. The body would be hung over the bridge on the opposite side of town, for all monsters to see and cower. The jester hasn’t revealed himself to anyone but the black market knows his signature- it’s been a while since he’s killed. And he doesn’t want to return to the old habit. But he might have too.
WARNING OVER
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…
…
Petunia perked up when she saw Cici enter the apartment, holding a bag full of strawberry ice cream and other sugary delights, she stood and tackled him and he quickly buried his face into her curls, inhaling the soft smell of roses and lavender. “The others are going to watch all Barbie movies to cheer me up, wanna join?” She asked, her eyes wide and begging. Cici smiled softly and nodded saying he’ll be there but he needs to check with his boss on one assignment and then he’s all Petunia’s. She squealed, taking the sugar, and rushed to the others who laughed at her excitement. Cici felt himself relax upon seeing his roommate returning to normal, feeling his heart rest knowing that she was safe and content again with the home she was a part of.
Cici pulled out his phone and opened his brother’s contact,
‘ Hey, I want to let you know that I love you. And if you need anything, a place to stay or some food, or anything, just call me, okay? ’
The three dots illuminated on the screen and a picture popped up with the words, ‘ I know. And I love you more Cici! ’ The picture had Allin sleeping against his pillows and blankets while the head of a pinkette rested on his chest with her arms around his torso. Cici “favorited” the photo and opened to a different contact as he took his shoes off. A link was sent to Cici and when he clicked on it; he found the mutilated body swinging over the bridge with the neck wrapped in a noose and when he opened his bank account, the nine-figure paycheck was added immediately to his savings account.
The jester bounced into the room as soon as ‘
Barbie and the Nutcracker’
started to play.