(Trigger Warning: Mentions of blood, gore and decaptiation.)

General-King Labyrinthite has long since stopped sleeping, needing only the pulsing chaotic energy from Metallia to keep him alert and functioning, but there are times when he lets himself relax enough to dream. It always happens in the middle of the day, when the sun is at it’s highest point because, really, he prefers to operate at night. There’s something about shadows and darkness that are particularly pleasing to the man, because one can hide without really hiding.

During daylight hours however, everyone has some sort of guise up whether they admit it or not.

He’s long since dropped all disguises and acts, what was the point? He is General-King Labyrinthite, the ruthless assassin for his sovereign and nothing more.

When he dreams, it’s often just recollections of events that have occurred in the last five years. More often than not, Princess Iris makes appearances because, after all, he’s been ruthlessly hunting her for the better part of eight years. Most of the time he dreams of the day he pushed her off the building and the sickening crunch of her arm breaking beneath her ringing in his ears until he opens his eyes.

This time, the memories are fresher, dating only four years prior.

He wasted no time leaving the mechanic’s home, with only a sinister grin that’s plastered to his face visible from beneath the tattered hood of his cloak. Blood is splattered across every aspect of his uniform and his fingers are stiff from dried blood coating his hands. When the deed was done, he teleported out of the garage knowing that Elle Spectre would come looking for her boss later.

Oh, how surprised would she be?

He only lamented not sticking around to see her reaction, but he had other matters to attend to. Specifically Ed and Kat Spectre. Thinking about what he was about to do to them left a tingling feeling in his stomach. Years later and he still got pleasure out of such things.

He had long since stopped pretending to be a decent man.

The Spectres were not home when he arrived in at their house, but he let himself in anyway after peering into one of their windows long enough to get a clear image of their kitchen so he could simply “pop” in. He spent the hours in between surveying the home, picking through the photographs on the wall and roaming through the rooms.

There was a method to his madness, there always was, because he was simply biding his time to decide where he wanted to place their bodies once he separated their heads. Ultimately he settled upon the kitchen and busied himself with arranging plates and silverware upon their table and then he took a seat at the head of it and waited.

Kat got home first, carrying an arm full of paperwork which she promptly dropped all over the kitchen floor when she saw the man sitting at her kitchen table with his legs propped up on the wood and his hands settled behind his head.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked, fingers curling into fist and settling on her hips.

"Now is that any way to treat a guest?" He mocked, removing his legs from the table and sitting up properly. “I mean, I’ve waited a while for you to come home Kat.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head while he settled his hands neatly before him. “I even set the dinner table,” he told her, gesturing to the carefully place plates.

“Whoever you are, get out of my house,” the red-head hissed.

Labyrinthite sighed, placing his palms against the wood as he stood. “You really should mind your manners, you’re being rather rude.” Nevermind that he was the one who broke into her home, but he was of the Negaverse. They no longer lived by any rules.

At this point, he’d begun to walk towards her taking slow steps with his hands folded behind his back. “Do you know when Ed will be home?” He asked, cocking his head slightly as a large skeleton scythe began to materialize in his hands.

Kat had begun to back up at this point, hands searching for something, anything, to defend herself well. “What do you want from me?” She squeaked, trying so hard to keep her voice even.

“Oh, you see Mrs. Spectre, I don’t want anything from you,” he told her swinging the weapon out before him. He brought the blade up to his face, inspecting the frosted metal before looking back at her, the manic glint in his eye reflecting back of the metal. “I’m merely using you to get to your daughter and,” he paused dramatically to fake a frown, “unfortunately for you, that means death.”

Her gold eyes widened in horror even as she grabbed a lamp from a nearby table and lobbed it at him. “Go to hell!” She shrieked, throwing whatever she could get her hands on at him.

He simply laughed at her attempts to harm him as he advanced towards her. The lamp hit him square in the chest and shattered but did not deter him. Nor did the book flung at his head, instead it just made him cackle loudly as he yanked on the shaft of the scythe revealing the chain link extension. “I’m glad you’re trying to fight me Kat, it makes this more enjoyable for me,” he told her, smiling a wide and toothy grin that revealed the sharpness of his canine teeth.

If she hadn’t thought him to be a monster, then she certainly did now.

“Death is at your door love,” he told her as he swung the blade at her throat.

The scream the woman was about to emit died halfway through her lips as the General-King effectively separated her head from her shoulders. It was done in one clean swipe, because he’d had plenty of practice, and her head hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Labyrinthite watched as her body collapsed to the floor and blood poured from the wound to stain the carpet. He moved towards the fallen body, banishing his weapon back to subspace, and dipped his hands into the pool of blood.

Iris, come out and plaaaay!, he wrote upon the walls and across the furniture. The phrase covered nearly every empty wall and eventually he returned to the body and dragged it across the floor, leaving blood smears in it’s wake, until he slung it into one of the chairs at the dinner table.

He positioned the body as though it was simply waiting for someone to serve dinner, then he collected the redhead’s head and placed it upon the dinner plate, facing the door so Iris would find her mother’s face looking at her in pure terror.

This was what the princess of rainbows got for letting him live when she could have killed him years ago. He would make her regret making that mistake, just like he regretted not finishing the job when the chibi interfered years ago.

Killing and decapitating Ed was a much simpler process, though it happened nearly two hours after the death of his wife. The blond merely collapsed to his knees and pleaded mercy, pleaded for his life. Cried and begged and bargained until Labyrinthite cut his head off just as he began to scream.

A sickening sense of pleasure filled him as he arranged the man’s body in a similar fashion and took to writing Iris, come out and plaaaay! across any unmarked surface he could find.

When he was done, he left the home but didn’t travel too far because he couldn’t wait to see Iris’s reaction.

Labyrinthite’s eyes flutter open as the memory fade and he hears footsteps approaching him. Immediately he’s upright, hand extended to summon his weapon if needed when he sees that it’s only one of his captains, a newer recruit to the Negaverse cause. One he personally corrupted and molded to suit his needs. “Has the target been spotted?” He asks, gold eyes narrowing.

“Yes sir,” the captain responds saluting her general-king with a grin on her lips.

“Then let’s move out, no need to waste time,” he instructs flicking his cloak behind him and pulling his hood up over his two-toned hair. He doesn’t wait for her to respond, instead he moves past her, scythe materializing in his hand as he walks.