oo2// Carbon Bonds
“Are you sure this is the place? It looks so…..depressing.” the Capo snarled in disgust at the sight of their next mission. It was an old, rundown house. It had clearly been forgotten by time. Although life was present, no one would have noticed unless they were looking for it.
“Yes, it is. What? Don’t tell me you’re actually scared?” Damien burst into laughter at the very thought of his partner being afraid of a generic dilapidated house.
“It’s not that I’m scared. I just…..don’t want to cause a stir in the neighborhood, that’s all.” he gulped nervously, covering his fear.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Damien rolled his eyes, seeing straight through the Capo’s ruse. He shifted his hands, and sent the car they were in forward up the driveway. Both noticed a movement in a downstairs window as soon as they pulled up. The two glanced at each other once they realized that they had been spotted; their mission had officially begun.
“And I was hoping to scope out the place a little.” the Capo pouted; data collection was his specialty.
“Well, I’m sorry. She must have been expecting us.” his tone lowered, and his words became slurred.
“Who wouldn’t? You screw up with the Don, and you know your time’s up.” the words were flat and matter-of-fact.
Damien smirked. It was true; you screw up this bad, you know you’re in for trouble. “So what exactly did she do for us before she turned into a rat?”
“Hmm…..I believe she was a sniper for awhile; pretty low-ranking, however. Named Sylvi Dhonkeart. Aged at 26. Her file says that she was diagnosed with schizophrenia about two years ago.” the file the Capo read from barely held any information.
“So she’s a crazy.” Damien was very blunt.
“But aren’t we all?” Capo chuckled sarcastically, “I seem to know a certain person who is just a tad on the crazy side.”
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. Sure, I may be a little insane with a hint of masochism in me- and hell, I could have IED for all I know- but I’m still not a schizophrenic.” Damien was very proud of himself for that.
“You’re an idiot.” Capo stared dumbfound at Damien’s ignorance. “You’re just happy because your reality isn’t as twisted as hers.”
“Damn right.” he smirked menacingly.
“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with. It should be a quick job.” the Capo sounded reluctant, but willing; he just wanted to get this over with.
“Alright then. Shall we go in?” the question was entirely rhetorical, as they both opened their doors and stepped out confidently. Scanning the scenery, they saw nothing out of the ordinary, other than the dilapidated house that stood meekly in front of them. “Well, isn’t this a sorry looking place.” Damien could now notice the minor faults of the house; things that bothered him. He never liked the sight of cracked wood or anything that you’d see in a Halloween movie; he enjoyed perfection, and this place was far from it.
The Capo was the one that knocked on the door; a slight flick of his wrist and a loud echo could be heard throughout the house.
“I highly doubt she’ll answer.” Damien placed his attention elsewhere, rolling his eyes back and forth.
“And what makes you say that?” the Capo was desperate for a peaceful end to this job, but he knew going into it that his desire was an impossible goal.
“Well, let’s see; ‘Hello ma’am, how are you today? You screwed up with the Lacrice gang and now we’re here to kill you!’” he smiled innocently. “What kind of idiot would open the door when she’s expecting to be slaughtered?!”
“You never know….” Capo retreated, knowing he had lost this argument.
“Just bust the damn door down! God!” Damien was as impatient as ever; he did not like to wait for the inevitable.
“Okay, okay. Just give me a second…..” the Capo fumbled with his boots, and soon enough rammed his steel-soled shoes into the feeble wood around the door handle. “We’re in.” he grinned at his accomplishment.
“Then go in.” Damien was annoyed at the pace that this was going. The Don had promised him a good time with this job, but he had seen anything but so far. “So where is she?” the floor boards creaked underneath them as they entered haughtily. Whoever their target was, she was no match for them; or so they thought. Screaming suddenly came from within the kitchen area, and Damien started to smile. “Bingo.” Closing in on his prey, he picked out a particularly explosive gun; one that would splatter anything it hit.
“Why that gun?” the Capo didn’t want a messy cleanup.
“Because it’s more fun.” Damien smirked and then started into the kitchen, gun raised. “Shoot first, ask questions later.” he repeated his code of conduct over to himself, as if building his excitement. Rounding the corner, he saw a pale figure, dressed in a torn white dress; it was a woman with bleach-blonde hair, and striking features. Damien started shooting immediately, not caring who the person he was looking at was his target or not; he’d have to kill them anyway. The woman staggered for a moment as the bullets pierced her skin, shredding it with each shot. Damien’s eyes narrowed as he saw that she was not dead yet; in fact, she hadn’t even fallen. Blood spurting from her gaping wounds, the woman hobbled forward, reaching out for the gun. Driven by instinct, Damien began firing another round, then another. The woman would not fall.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why won’t you die?!” he was desperate. This problem had never occurred, and he was not prepared for it. Eyes widening, he flung himself backwards, falling down as he did so.
“Damien! Look!” the Capo pointed to something unseen; rather, something that took his trained eyes to see. Damien narrowed his eyes on the vacant space above the woman’s figure; a faint dripping of blood was trilling along something invisible….fishing wire. Now enraged at his own obliviousness, Damien reached for his stiletto that was hidden up along his spine. No longer caring about the human that reluctantly hung before him, he slashed at her lower arms, severing the hands from her body. The woman collapsed onto the floor, surrounded in an endless stream of blood. The remaining hands that hung above them all turned a cold purple, and shriveled like dead spiders.
“God…..” Capo clasped his gaping mouth with his gloved hands. “Are you okay, man?” while his concern for his friend was real, he was also now extremely concerned for his own well being.
“I’m fine. I just…..lost my composure.” Damien avoided direct eye contact. He was ashamed, and it showed.
“It’s okay now, so let’s keep moving.” the Capo quickly changed the subject, “So if this wasn’t Sylvi, then who is it? I could’ve sworn it was…….oh my god…..” the Capo’s grim realization caused his stomach to churn.
“What?” Damien looked concerned; he was already fooled once, he didn’t want anything to slip him up again.
“This is…..her sister. I mean, it has to be! They’re identical twins!” the nervousness rose in the Capo’s voice as he went on. “The woman’s insane! Using her sister for something like this? It’s cruel…..”
“That’s just how these people are. And that’s why we kill them.” a smirk showed up on Damien’s face, and he winked at the Capo. “Told you she was crazy.”
The Capo led Damien around the side of the kitchen and dining room to the base of the stairs. Glancing back and forth, Damien could smell the oil and gasoline. His eyes dropped; he knew how this would go. Flexing his fingers, he prepared himself for the next course of events. One last sigh, and Damien raced up the stairs, seeking out his prey. Slamming open doors, he could care less if the woman they were after heard him. He wanted to end this, and in the bloodiest way possible. He slowed down only for a moment; he could hear singing. Ripping out his gun, he jammed his bullets in. His face dripped with sweat and anxiety seeped from his every crevice. Rounding the corner he stand behind, he entered the room where the singing originated, coming face to face with another woman. This one, on the other hand, cowardly huddled in the corner, rocking back and forth on her haunches. Her blonde hair was mussed and dangled in her face. Damien strode over to her and immediately rose the gun to her forehead. The two were both silent, until the woman crooked her head upwards slowly, eyes widened in hysteria. Damien flinched briefly and let the woman perch herself on his arm, preventing him from moving. A sharp pain in his right arm gathered his attention, and he felt warm blood seep through his fingers.
“You damned thing, get the hell off me!” using all the strength he could gather, he flung the woman off of his arm and sent her sprawling onto the ragged wooden floor. Damien glanced down briefly at his now limp right arm and cradled it in his chest. He licked the blood from his arm innocently and smiled. The taste of it was sweetly intoxicating. He inhaled this moment for as long as it would last, then returned to his current situation. A large thud at the entrance to the room signaled Capo’s entance; he was late.
“You dumbass. What the hell took you so long?!” Damien was utterly pissed that he had allowed himself to get injured like this, and Capo’s absence was not helping.
“Sorry….the stairs, eh, collapsed.” Capo’s smile was far from comforting, but it helped to lighten Damien’s grim mood. In the corner of the room, however, a sudden movement caught Capo’s eye. The woman, Sylvi, was getting up. Damien turned in the direction of Capo’s eyes and watched as the woman jerked herself upright. She was weak, and her blood had been smeared up her legs, indicating damage. Genuinely annoyed by this point, Damien pulled his stiletto out once more and neared the floundering woman. She clawed at his legs, cutting him deeply. Apathetic and merciless, Damien lifted the stiletto above his head and dropped it down. He began slashing more and more as he saw her vermillion blood splatter the bland walls and window panes. A demonic smile arose from him, and he decapitated the slashed open corpse. Hands dripping wet with blood, Damien plucked her head from the mound of flesh that remained on the floor and tossed it in a plastic Ziploc he had in his pocket.
“Let’s leave.” Damien’s gaze wandered out the window, where the sun still shined brightly.
“But what about the cleanup?” Capo was more concerned about destroying the evidence at this point than Damien was. The man he saw at the apartment building had faded away at this moment.
“Just demolish the damn thing. It’s a piece of crap house anyway.” his crimson coated hand stroked the deteriorated walls gently. “You can send in a crew to get the remains of the body if you want. But I’m leaving.” he turned to leave, tying his limp arm around his fragile neck. Capo followed him closely, stopping at the doorway to look back at the ripped apart lump of flesh that was once Sylvi Dherkeart. Down the broken stairs, her other half laid mutilated on the kitchen floor. The severed hands were now wrinkled and drained. They left the house stained in blood and reeking of rotted flesh.
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