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Medkit slid against the tight brick walls of the chimney, thankfully landing on his feet this time. Good, he was tired of dusting ash off the bottom of his pants.
When he ducked out of the fireplace, he checked his watch. Two in the morning already? It felt like they had only started this an hour ago.
Following quick behind him was his boss, landing perfectly like with the last house, and the last, and the last.
"This one pretty," She snarks out, scanning the small living room and the petite kitchen connected to it, "let's jus'hope those presents ar' prettier."
And last to climb down was Broker, plopping right on his bum. Burnt cinders spayed out in a mushroom-like cloud, receiving the glaring attention of Scythe.
"Sorry, Boss!" Broker chirped with a crooked grin. Medkit didn't even make an effort to give his colleague further attention.
Scythe redirected her attention toward the average-sized Christmas tree in the corner. Underneath its brines was a jackpot of wrapped gifts, fresh for the coming morning.
"C'mon, clear th'saplin'. I don't want ta see a box n'sight." She ordered with the snap of her fingers, heading to scope around the kitchen, "And don't make too much racket."
Adjusting his gloves, Medkit turned to Broker, "You do have the bag, correct?"
"Yep!" The scam artist practically shoved the thing in the medic's face.
"Keep it down, this is a one-story house."
And so they began their heist. Broker rummaged through presents, flinging them into the bag that he'd given to Medkit. And Scythe was ,, somewhere.
The back of Medkit's mind was still wondering why this was even a job. He doubted it was from The Father, if that satisfied the question. Maybe Scythe made it herself, thinking this would be something fun, to ruin Christmas Day for a few kids.
But again, that was the last thing he was thinking of. He was (strangely) getting paid for this like with any job anyway, so why did the reason matter?
As Broker threw another present in, Medkit speaks:
"Be careful with the heavy ones," He muttered, glancing behind him to check if Scythe was in view, "they might be ,, valuable."
She was not.
Broker only continued humming whatever song was stuck in his head, tossing another gift behind him and into the bag.
Medkit groaned. At least he was getting it done.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, the operator of the entire heist was off doing her own 'important' thing, snooping nosily around the kitchen like some hungry gremlin looking for food at 3 AM.
Maybe they had something of value in one of the drawers, like a stack of money no one would bother to use again.
Unfortunately, her luck was empty this time around. Maybe the next house.
The only things in sight was a plate of cold cookies on the countertop, paired with a full glass of milk. This was maybe the third house to have milk and cookies laid out.
Give them the Santa Claus they really wanted.
With an amused smirk, Scythe snatched one of the cookies, downing it in a matter of three bites. She didn't bother touching the milk, however. Seriously, who was drinking glasses of milk at this age?
What really caught her attention was the tall half-full bottle at the far end of the counter. Colored a light yellow, a small empty glass sat beside it.
Father Overseer, was that eggnog?
Taking a few steps forward, she got a better look at the label. The name in big bold letters confirmed her suspicions.
The fattest grin spread across Scythe's face, wrinkling her old cheeks. Had she found the ultimate prize?
The Most Wanted welcomed herself on the marble surface, fumbling with the screw of the top. When she popped it off, she poured herself a glass, not wasting any time to take a good fill of the creamy liquor. She could sit here all night.
And that's when it all went wrong.
As Broker tossed the last gift into the plastic bag, Medkit knotted it tight. About time they got done with this house. For being so small, the present count was astonishing.
"We should take the tree, too!" Broker blurted suddenly.
" ,, Why on Inpherno would we do that?"
"I don't know, maybe we could have a Christmas for ourselves? A tree would be nice to decorate with chipped horns!"
"We have no room in the van." Medkit sighed, hoisting the heavy bag on his shoulder, "Besides, we have more than enough of a holiday with all these gifts."
Broker shrugged, eyeing something near the towering pine tree. Medkit was already back at the fireplace.
"Broker?-"
"Bogtooth connected." A robotic voice screeched out at an ear-piercing volume.
"Wha-"
The entire floor rumbled to life as Medkit realized that was a speaker Broker was messing with on the floor. A song immediately came on, Mariah Carey blasting through the thin walls of the house.
"Turn that off!" Medkit shouted over the bassbooted lyrics, gripping the bag tighter in one hand while the other covered one of his poor ears.
"I don't know how!" Broker replied, frantically mashing buttons on the contraption of a machine. Frankly, it didn't do much.
"What the hell goin' on in'ere?" Scythe's frustrated voice nearly made Medkit's heart leap out his chest, "I done told y'all not ta make any racket!"
The doctor barely paid attention to the bottle she was holding in one hand, head snapping back to Broker, who was still struggling with the buttons.
As per usual, he'd be blamed for fucking this up, another stern insulting from his boss, and forced to polish her collection of horns for a week.
,, Or maybe not, considering the hard stare she was giving to the struggling demon near the Christmas tree.
Finally, Broker pushed the right button, the volume slowly tuning down until it was muted.
They sat in silence for a moment, but Scythe didn't get the chance to take out her anger on them.
"Hello?" Came a muffled voice, a distant door creaking open.
Scythe spat a curse under her breath, yanking Medkit by the back of his suit and into the fireplace. Broker scrambled behind them, and they began to climb.
They only had just barely reached the top of the roof to hear the muffled shouting from below. Fuck.
Sliding off the top of the house, they rushed towards the van, Medkit throwing the bag into the back, not caring about fragility anymore. He could hear Scythe scream about something he barely could make out, as the passenger door slammed behind her heels.
He opened the van door and hopped into the front seat, fumbling with the keys before slamming on the gas when the vehicle roared to life.
And they were off.
"What the fuck was that, Brokes!?" Scythe snapped, looking over her shoulder to glare once again at the opposing individual. He could only give a crooked smile back, one showered with covering amusement and screaming slight fear from beneath.
"Sorry, boss! Won't happen again!"
"Better not." Medkit heard her hiss out from his right. His eyes were glued to the road, going a tad bit faster than usual.
That demon back there had definitely identified their empty tree, as well as the trio's presence. Worst-case scenario, the authorities were already on their trail, so the medic couldn't take any chances.
He did however grace himself one second to eye Scythe, spotting the open bottle she was holding from earlier.
"Is that alcohol?" Medkit questioned, suspicious. He was just now starting to read the giant 'EGGNOG' label on its front.
She sneers back, the rattle at the end of her tail coiling for a moment before rattling, "Found it in that cozy kitchen in th'back. Sure am lucky, aren't I?"
Scythe doesn't waste the opportunity to take another swig at the mention of her prized possession. Of course his boss of all demons would be drinking at a time like this.
But Medkit can't focus on her right now, not with the law possibly racing to their current location. He continues driving instead, as the seemingly smartest person in the car at the moment, making the smart logical choices.
Scythe had marked a few houses in Crossroads for stealing, most of them being rich folk, who were bound to have bountiful presents for the taking. This next home on the list was Medkit's next destination.
The rest drive there was silent, other than Broker's hums, the tapping of Scythe's foot, and Medkit's silent thoughts filling the vehicle.
The doctor was beyond tired, but being tired was nothing new. All those sleepless nights of night terrors and piles of work, the bags under his eyes were heavier than the burdened reputation he carried in Blackrock.
As they began to quietly park in front of their next cash-prized house, distant sirens could faintly be heard.
An ambulance? No, that was police. That was so, definitely, fucking police.
Medkit groaned, head giving in as it hit the wheel, the horn ringing out throughout the streets. It didn't help shield their whereabouts.
His dwelling didn't last long, Scythe pulling him back off the wheel by his suit. She couldn't start talking without shooting another disappointed look at Broker in the backseat.
"Make this quick, and I mean it." She muttered dangerously, mind beginning to fuzz from the eggnog. Medkit knew damn well that was a demand.
The trio opened their doors and hopped out of their seats, making a break for the house as the doors shut behind them. More climbing up to the roof, and more climbing down chimneys.
Expect, Scythe never came along down.
"Boss?" Medkit had called from the fireplace, avoiding looking up the spiraling cylinder to not get ash in his eyes.
"'Gonna be th' distraction, keep 'em on their toes, hm?" She was still holding that bottle in her metallic claws.
"Be quick." She repeated. Medkit only nodded.
As Medkit and Broker retreated into the house, Scythe raised her head, looking onwards to the three cars flashing red and blue lights. Another swig of her drink, before throwing it off the roof with a dramatic shatter.
If she was lucky, maybe the warden would show up too.
"Hurry!" Medkit snapped with venom behind his words, watching as Broker scrambled for another present. Just like the last box, it was hauled into the box without question.
The medic could hear commotion outside, banging on the door with relentless force.
Shit.
Medkit beckoned Broker to snatch presents faster, motioning with his hands how out of time they were. The last thing he wanted was to be locked in Banlands on Christmas day.
As the last (thankfully small) gift was stuffed into the bag, the door broke down with a crash.
"Hands in the air!" A cop shouted, but Medkit had already dragged Broker and their prizes down the open hall.
The owners of this fine establishment were sure to be awake now, panicking with huddling their legs close. But that wasn't something of importance right now.
Heavy footsteps ran after them from behind, the two teal-colored demons sharply turning a corner to a room they hoped to be safe in. As they bursted through the door, someone screamed from the right, and would you know, a mother and her daughter hugged themselves close together in fear.
The horrified eye contact they shared with Medkit put a pint of pity in his shallow heart, but it quickly was washed away when a nearby window shattered.
"Fuckin' varmint!" The warden shouted, clattering down with Scythe as shards of glass pierced their skin. The outlaw only giggled sluggishly, tasting the blood on her lip for a moment before turning towards her colleagues.
"Behin' ya." She sputtered out with some more blood, the same two officers making an appearance behind with their tasers.
Medkit was quick to spring out of there like an antelope, slipping past the wrestling two and out the window. But Broker wasn't as fast as him.
The scam artist was already on the floor, quivering from the electricity flowing through him. It never hurt, of course, but his body was vibrating so badly he couldn't move a limb.
So Medkit resorted to leaving him with a frustrated groan, hauling off with the bag as one of the same officers ran after him. The other was awkwardly dragging Broker's limp body out, while also evacuating the two innocent demons in the corner.
Banhammer seemed hellbent on taking care of Scythe himself, which is why the cop never intervened.
Bullets were shot in walls, mallet swinging as blood drew across their faces. Who would win the chase this time? Only time could tell.
When Banhammer drew his hammer once again downwards, Scythe held up her rifle, trying her best to stall with a block. It wasn't working well, not with tipsiness heavy on her shoulders, a blackout imminent from chugging a bottle for an hour.
Her heavy lashes fluttered up. They were in the middle of the doorway, and something hung above their heads.
"Banny," Scythe slurred, grabbing his fury of attention as she signaled with her glass eye to look up.
He looked up, of course, but he didn't expect to see a plant, decorated with holly and a red bow.
"Fuck off." Banhammer snapped without another question.
Medkit honestly was really tired of this high-speed chase. Not even high speed, as the police had already immobilized their van. He had been sitting here firing bullets at the team who were so desperately trying to catch him.
The medic was always fast on his feet. He could evade chases like these usually easily, but not with this bag over his shoulder.
Again, he was tired, like with any other day. Plus, Broker and Scythe were certainly goners, so why would he be any different?
He skidded to a stop behind the house, his stalling running out. Medkit could hear their running, their shouts.
He aimed his revolver again as one cop came into view, and clicked the trigger.
,, Only for nothing to come out.
"Bullshit!" He hissed, which was a little rare. Medkit wasn't usually the person to be vocally mad about something. His anger was usually locked up deep behind bars, or at least in the form of insults.
But it seemed someone else would be behind bars this time, again.
He dropped the bag and raised his arms, already bracing himself as he was pushed to the ground, unhanded of his gun as the cuffs were clipped to his wrist. Fuck this mission anyways, he could only hope he would be slightly paid for cooperation.
Dragged off to the front of the house, his body was slammed against the back of one of the police cars. Scythe was already there, all chained up in her own fancy cuffs.
With the blank look she was giving him, he couldn't really tell if she was sobering up or not. Her lipstick was strangely smeared, a little of the teal color wiping across her cheek. She began to grin, holding in a laugh.
Blinking with slight confusion, Medkit brought his eyes to the distance, where Banhammer was angrily rambling on to one of his own coworkers. He was struggling to wipe something off his face, as well as his blindfold.
Whatever. Medkit couldn't give a damn about this night anymore. Not with Broker passed out in the police car, and him and Scythe waiting to be hauled into the back as well like cargo. Ironic.
Fuck that speaker, Medkit thought back, fuck the speaker and that damned song. Maybe he should become the Grinch of Christmas.