Word Count: 875

Laughter echoed off the walls, the rather unnerving sound bouncing around and around before slowly tapering off into nothing. His enemies were defeated, their dead forms littered around and the blood pooling from their broken bodies to the floor below. He sat upon two of them, shoved together like a makeshift throne. Sometime during the night his Negaverse uniform had been utterly drenched in blood. Some part of him would have been disgusted by this, freaked out at the way the previously warm blood had dried and caked over his skin and clothes. That part of him was long dead, smothered by the more primal Scheelite who had whispered encouragements of death and destruction in his ear. Kill kill kill it said, murder and destroy til nothing is left, only then will your queen be proud of you. He had wanted his queen to be proud of him, Zink too. He wanted the praise, the recognition, the love, and in the pursuit of this he had lost himself, permanently.

"You're nothing but a rabid dog..."
The voice that broke into his moment of victory caused Scheelite to go silent and hop off his 'throne' to look for it's owner. He knew that voice, he loved that voice. It was his master, the one person he trusted more than anyone else. Surely Zinkenite would be proud of him, proud of the collection of bodies that had once been their enemies. Surely praise was to follow.

As the shorter Lieutenant stepped onto the scene, Scheelite had bounded over to him and stood by to await orders. Blood was dripping off every inch of him, pooling on the ground below. Some his, most of it belonging to others. He didn't care. It didn't matter, Zink was here, and he had done well! Everything would be fine.

"Well if he's nothing more than a rabid dog, I think it's time for you to put him down Lieutenant."
These words didn't sound promising, but considering now both his beloved queen -and- Zinkenite were on the scene then surely it was okay? They didn't really mean anything of what they were saying, he had done good! Why would they wish him harm? Why was it that Zink was backing him up now, tripping him even? Why was Zink looming over him? ...Did he want a kiss? Maybe he did! Yes, kisses were how you rewarded people for a job well done, surely this is what was to come.

"You see, Demetri..."
Not Dem, not Schee, not any of the cute nicknames they shared. Just..what? Why the hell would Zink use -that- name? He knew how much Schee hated it!
"When you could hold this rage in check you were useful. You've outlived your purpose, what was once useful has poisoned your mind and now you are simply a liability. I don't take kindly to liabilities compromising my plans. I eliminate problems."
Zink was little, sure, but he still had power behind him and one particularly hard stomp was enough to break previously broken bones and send the taller lieutenant into gasps and yelps. Zink wore a cruel smirk, kneeling to sit beside Schee and slowly drive the fractured bones in more, impaling all that was important inside his chest. His life was flickering, those green eyes that were usually just one step away from glowing fading to an incredibly dull green. And through it all he still didn't understand, he never would. He had done everything they wanted! Why...why wasn't he loved?! Why the hell was Z doing this? Was it for his own good? Was...there some kind of trick? There had to be, there just had to be!

But there wasn't, and one lieutenant Scheelite was left to his agonizing death by the hand of his former partner before being cast aside like the trash he had taken out before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Had Demy's screams and thrashing woken up Z, or was the boy awake from his own night terrors? Demy had no idea, but when those green eyes opened to see the shorter boy looming over him just as he had done moments ago in his dream he...didn't take too kindly to it. In fact he flat out punched him and sent Z sprawling to the floor. The boy called up some warning or another of "there better be a damn good explanation for this", but Demy was far too busy clutching at his chest and trying to make sure everything was still more or less intact. There were no bones jutting out, no organs run through, and yet it still felt like it was and he had to stumble out of his bed to go hurl into the toilet before he could even think about gathering his wits again.

It was going to be one hell of a long night. <********> sleep, he was going to stay in his corner and play Guitar Hero and try to gain back the ability to look at his roommate without whimpering in fear.