Warning; horribly graphic. Do not read if sensitive to violence, cussing, abuse, drinking, ect. Do not in any way admire or copy the actions of the characters.
“There’s something wrong with her,”
“Her smile creeps me out,”
“Did you hear about her parents,”
“She has a gang tattoo,”
“Stay out of her way,”
“Did you hear about her so called ‘ability’ freak thinks she’s special,”
“I heard she’s batshit crazy, in the mafia or some crap,”
“Is there blood on her shoes?”
Whispers, they follow me everywhere. I gave a predatory smile at the nearest girl talking about me. But I can’t call them rumors if they’re true.
My life’s fucked up, it only makes sense I would be too. And they don’t talk crap very long when they figure out I can hear them.
They think I’m in a gang not deaf. How they assume I can't hear them from ten feet away is a complete mystery.
“Redy!” A weight jumped on my back which I ignored. The only person in this whole school who isn’t scared of me so happens to be incredibly cheerful.
Though how she held on so easily considering I was wearing a brand-new leather jacket is a mystery. Not to mention the dagger and gun hidden in my jacket must be uncomfortable.
I think Sophie must be clinically insane. You know...bird of a feather or whatever the saying is.
“Hey Soph, how’s your brother’s business?” It’s not a business, it’s a gang and we both know it.
I turned to look at her, straight black hair hung over her head and pretty green eyes gazed at me. Her skin was pale white and lips light pink, she looked a little like someone in a vampire movie.
Not to mention her diamond face, straight teeth, and killer waist line. She could have anyone in this school but she's totally unaware.
“Good, you know that tiny g-business that ‘helps out’ for a fee? My brother’s got a deal with them.”
“That’s great,” I hope her brother doesn’t do anything stupid to my parents. I like having Sophie around.
“They wouldn’t even look our way until last month, for only having three members they sure are picky about who they work with.”
“You got that right,” I mumbled. Soph might not care if I’m in a gang or not but I know better than to tell her I’m in that gang.
A lot goes over her head, she hasn't really seen first-hand what happens.
She’ll think we can make an alliance or something but my parents adore their freedom. Not to mention even top-tiers are scared of us, it’s only the stupid newbies who think they can take advantage of our lack of numbers.
“What’d you say?” She batted her eyelashes at me.
“Mmm, don’t worry about it. Just make sure your brother isn’t stupid, you tell them what you want and what you’ll do for it and you leave them alone.”
“You never did tell me which group you’re in.”
“No offense to you but mine’s a little too hard for you guys to make allies with.”
“Vague as always,” she laughed.
“Let’s get you to class before your brother’s guys think I’m kidnapping you.”
I dropped her off at her class and got to my own. Not that I plan on doing anything but my parents want me here in case someone high up enough sees me and gets inspired to give us a little business.
They’d made me their biggest asset. I was like advertising, my name is just there enough to give them a clue and I have a small tattoo of a card on my forearm.
The queen of hearts. And anyone with half a brain cell can tell between that and the legal name Red Queen who I'm with. But they think I'm assistant so there's that.
I didn’t chose my name but the queen of hearts is pretty badass so, no complaints here.
As long as I keep advertising and keep being good at my job they’ll keep me around.
My phone rang loudly. My volume is always all the way up, there's some severe consequences if I don't answer.
“Be back in thirty. We’ve got a case for you and you can head back to school after.” I didn’t even answer before my mom hung up.
And it’s a forty-five minute drive usually. Thankfully they got me a motorcycle so it’s easier to take turns that fast. No one could possibly notice me leaving before school even starts.
I’d left my helmet chained to my bike which in turn is chained to the fence. It’s still not impossible to steal but that and the deck of cards painted on it kept people away.
One advantage to the family name I guess.
I checked to make sure the license plates were covered and covered the painted graphic with black electrical tape. It was a fairly common model so seeing it without the symbol means nothing.
I’m probably the only person who worries about getting caught. Even speeding.
Unlocking the chains I tied them back to the fence and put on my helmet. Revving the engine I sped off.
My parents may be assholes but they have great taste in motorcycles. This is my baby and I love it to death.
The engine roared and the wind whipped around me causing a huge smile to spread across my face. Even as I pushed the bike faster to get there in time I wanted to never stop.
My mom whistled loudly as soon as I cut the engine. She was pretty, straight blond hair with blood red contacts. She’s also short as hell, around 5’1”.
He eyes were hard but her smile was sadistic. And she was armed to the teeth. A gun was on her hip and shoulder, a dagger on the other hip. Multiple smaller weapons were hidden on her as well.
Not that you could tell. And she’d taught me to do the same.
“How fast were you going to make that kind of time?” She asked walking up to me.
“Around 130,” I pulled the helmet off and stood to greet her. We have a pretty normal relationship since I turned out how she wanted.
If I hadn’t been as good as I am though I would have been treated like a slave and maybe sold. Like my brother.
"Maybe we should start doing street racing," she joked. But in reality we just did whatever the hell we want whenever. As long as I brought something back I could do anything I want and she wouldn't give a shit.
“What have you got for me, Mom?” I smiled at her.
She held out a can or temporary hair spray and a black face mask. As well as a straightener.
“Someone’s leaving alive? What would you like me to do with them?” I took the mask and put it on before accepting all the other things.
“They think he was sent to kill them by someone but they couldn’t get who out of him. Find out who and how they got the assassin to do it and keep him alive. Apparently, they were impressed enough they want to try to convert him.”
I gave her a nod and walked into the warehouse. Just before the room we used for actual torture there was a bathroom to disguise ourselves in and clean ourselves up afterwards.
I plugged in the straightener and hummed waiting for it to warm up. I took my new leather jacket and replaced it with one a brown one stained with blood. My jeans were dark enough I didn’t have to change them.
I sloppily ran the hair straightener through my curly hair leaving it looking straight but messy. Tangled.
Covering up my golden locks with cheap red hair spray I continued to hum knowing everyone in the building could hear me. It throws them off-guard.
I covered my green eyes with boring brown contacts and hid the freckles around my nose with the black medical mask. Happy I covered my key features I walked out.
Seeing my mom in the hallway I waited for her to point at a certain room. I happily skipped in. Which obviously greatly confused the man chained to the ceiling.
“How do you do?” I chirped.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’d offer you some water but you wouldn’t drink it unless you saw me do it and I can’t show you my face.”
“Apparently you were quite impressive, they want you alive.” The cheery voice I talked in wasn’t mine.
“They…do?” Confusion showed clearly on his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, what are you playing at?”
“Absolutely nothing,” except throwing you off your game.
I walked around him in circles. He was bruised and cut badly but nothing broken or needing physical therapy. They might actually want him alive. Or they might want to know who we are so they can attack us.
“Now then, are you actually being tortured or are you gathering information on our group for someone?”
“What, you think someone beat up their own guy to figure you people out?” He sounded scared, by the concept or by me is the question.
“I’ve seen it before, yes.” I replied calmly. The voice I’m using is annoying me. “Please answer the question.”
“How does this benefit me? I say I’m being tortured I’m being tortured I say I was sent, I was sent and will be tortured.”
I glared at him and picked up a sharp knife on the table.
“I’m being tortured. Like that makes this better for me.” He muttered.
Writing the word lies under one side of the page and truth on the other I wrote down what he said. Under lies.
“Who do you work for? And did you have a specific reason for accepting to try to kill the person you were sent after.” I gazed innocently at him.
“I hope you understand that if I tell you who I work for they will do worse to me than you will.” Truth.
“So little confidence in me,” I complained.
“If you refuse to answer me I have to torture you.” I smiled, not that he could see.
“I’m not telling you shit.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I put the sharp knife down and picked up a dull one.
“Sharp ones scare people more but dull ones hurt more. I thought maybe I could intimidate you into spilling,” I explained with a hidden smile.
I pressed the dull blade to the side of his ribs I slowly dragged it up and then across his ribs making it so he couldn’t get comfortable.
He hissed and breathed raggedly trying to get away from the knife.
“Smart of them to cut the skin where your tattoo was, makes it hard to read.” I remarked getting hydrogen peroxide from the table.
He looked like he was sent here for us but I couldn’t do anything too dangerous until I was sure.
I poured the hydrogen peroxide on his new wounds and he sucked in a breath trying not to scream. With all the damage already on him his nerves would be fried.
“Ooh, I have an idea! I’m not supposed to permanently damage you, so that’s making this hard. But you know what hurts like a bitch and leaves no damage technically. Tattoos! All the most painful places,” I made my voice excited.
“After all your nerves must be fried so any damage will be amplified tenfold.” I stared at him like I was looking for ideas.
I pulled a tattoo gun out of the cart and set up to happily humming.
Head tattoos are painful, though not as painful as pulling teeth. So I happily shaved part of his head and turned the tattoo gun on.
“You don’t mind if I draw penises right, like as detailed as possible?” Not waiting for a response, I pulled his remaining hair to keep his head in place and turned the machine all the way up.
He winced since I was being less than gentle. I overworked the skin till it bleeds not to mention there wasn’t any actual ink on the needle.
I was basically carving it into his head by poking him rapidly with a small knife. A very small knife since it’s a single needle. And he probably had a migraine.
“Get off me!” he thrashed violently and shoved me before kicking out at me.
Annoyed I gave his knee a swift kick watching it pop out of place. I glared at him.
“Oops. I hope they forgive me, that’ll take a few weeks to heal.” Obviously in pain and leaning on one already injured leg can’t feel good.
“I can’t believe I ever let this happen. I’m going to kill that bastard,” he mumbled but I heard it.
“My boss.” True.
“And that is?” I hummed.
“None of your damn business.”
“Well I realized the tattoo was a bad idea but I have a new one. I still wanna finish this though. After I’m done we can do something new, or we can do it at the same time, I gotta go…somewhere.”
If for some reason my mom decides he doesn’t know enough to die than I shouldn’t let him know I’m enrolled in a school.
This cart has everything. Including a dog’s shock collar. And those things do not feel good.
I would definitely know.
Strapping the collar to his neck I started on the tattoo again.
“Well let’s start on how you got convinced to do this it’s easier.” I showed him the shock collar remote.
“Loyalty.” He growled, truth.
“And who do you work for? The people you attacked will want payback.” Hopefully he passes the blame off. He probably only resisted because they told him too for a little bit so it doesn’t look suspicious.
“The snakes,” real original name. And a total lie, but it was a good start.
“Mhm, remind me who you supposedly attacked again?” I said it like a casual conversation.
“Gargoyles.” It was a general name for the gang not the leader. And one I’m all too familiar with.
“That fucking idiot,” I muttered. “Thanks bucko, you’ve given me everything I need for now.” I slapped him on the back in a proud way.
Walking away I pulled my phone out. I typed out a quick message to Sophie.
Tell that idiot brother of yours to hide you away. He tried to trick that little gang and if you’re where they see you, they’ll go after you as revenge. I don’t know what he was thinking but he shouldn’t have gone after them. -Red
Next I called my mom. “Meet my outside the warehouse. I need a consult.”
I hung up. Walking out I winked at the man hanging by chains to the ceiling. Not changing my hair yet incase she wanted him alive.
“He was sent to watch us and report back. What do you want me to do with him?”
“It’s their first strike, do the usual. You’re not going to be at school today,” She waved me away and I nodded.
Things are about to get ugly.
“We’re going to have some fun!” I announced more happily than I felt. “So, what do the gargoyles want from us?”
“How would I know?”
“Cut the shit, I’m not an idiot and I know what’s up. If you convince me your gang doesn’t want to kill us all in our sleep they might get off easy.”
“W-wait I thought we-we were okay. I mean you’re a nice person, we can get matching tattoos. I can work here and we’ll be friends.”
“So you’ve heard of our rep. Now then, what does your boss want?”
“I-I don’t know,”
“I don’t like liars.”
I lit a candle and held the knife over it. I hummed holding the knife as I walked behind him.
“Wait-wait. What a-are you doing?!” He wasn’t taught not to talk very well. He’s already freaked out.
I just laughed and held the burning hot knife to his back. In huge blocky letters I wrote first strike on his back.
He screamed and squirmed until I got irritated at him but I didn’t say anything. I still need him to talk.
“W-what do you want? I’ll do anything just stop!” Have you ever seen a grown man cry? It doesn’t happen often.
“Then tell me what I want to know!” I growled standing close to his face.
“H-he wants your group to work for him. B-but he k-knows you guys don’t join so he th-thought if he kidnapped you you’d co-operate and work for him.” He shook like a leaf.
“And yet he thought I wouldn’t see through you. I still have to kill you but I don’t have to torture you. I already know everything else.”
“Make it quick please?”
I nodded and pulled out the only gun in the tool box. With an apologetic smile he can’t see I pulled the trigger.
A loud bang sent my ears ringing and I got to work making it look like I’d tortured him for hours before I killed him.
I'm not religious, but sometimes I hope there's something after. Times like this, I don't like killing but I don't want to get kicked out. There are a lot of things I've done that I didn't want to.
Sometimes I love my job, but right now... I wish we were a less intense gang. Normal stuff like street fighting and racing. Selling drugs.