As the dust settled and those two lovebirds stood over the shredded remains of my body, I could almost picture the smug satisfaction oozing from their pores. They'd had their fun, sure - but now it was time to drop the curtain on this little cabaret of carnage.
Well, to be clear, it wasn't actually my body, it was a clone, AGAIN. I love my Freak Show...
In one fluid motion, Romeo scooped up what was left of my "corpse" and stuffed the gory chunks into a large sack, clearly intent on parading their trophy. Julio, meanwhile, began a sweep of the safehouse, his blades still slick with my clone's viscera.
That's when his roving gaze alighted upon a most unexpected sight - the battered, disheveled form of the President of the United States himself, bound and gagged in the corner. If their eyes could've bugged out any further, they might've rolled clean out of their skulls.
"Well, I'll be..." Romeo breathed, hurrying to the captive's side and sawing through his bonds. "This is certainly a plot twist, ain't it darlin'?"
The President flinched away from his liberators, his eyes wild with terror and confusion. But as the gag was removed, the words came tumbling out in a frantic rush.
"Thank you, oh thank you! You have to help me, they've gone mad! The contract holders, all of them...they want to undermine everything, overthrow the system!" His gaze ping-ponged between the two mercenaries, desperation and hope warring on his features. "Please, you have to stop them!"
Romeo and Julio shared one of those unnerving, silent looks that only soulbound partners could manage. Finally, Romeo turned back to the President, offering one of his most dazzling, razor-edged smiles.
"Well now, Mr. President, it seems you and us are on the same team after all. Don't you fret - we've already got one of those deviant contract holders gift-wrapped and ready for delivery."
He gave the sack an emphatic shake, prompting a fresh torrent of crimson to spill from the tattered remains inside. The President actually recoiled, his face going pale.
"Diablo himself has been...neutralized," Julio chimed in, his tone thick with gloating satisfaction. "Which means our deal is done, yes? No more death row, no more persecution." He leveled his blades at the bedraggled leader, eyes glinting with naked avarice. "We get our freedom, and you get your public execution."
For my part, I had to consciously bite back the laughter bubbling up in my chest as I observed the scene unfold. If only they knew the truth - but then again, that was rather the point, wasn't it? Let them revel in their hollow "victory" for now.
After all, the curtain had only just fallen on Act One of this production. Wait until they got a load of Act Two.
"Yes, yes of course!" The President babbled, wringing his hands with transparent relief. "You've done the nation a great service by apprehending this...this criminal." His gaze flicked to the sack of gore Romeo still clutched with bloodied fingers. "But you're right, we mustn't linger here. It's not safe."
I could practically taste their self-satisfaction as Romeo puffed out his chest, squaring those broad shoulders. "Well then, lead the way Mr. President. We're in your capable hands now."
The impostor offered a thin, reedy smile and beckoned for them to follow. "There's a secure apartment not far from here. A safehouse, if you will. We can regroup, call for backup from a secure lime, and get you both to a transport out of the city."
"Oooh, a fancy word like 'safehouse'?" Julio leered, elbowing his partner playfully as they fell into step behind the President. "Hear that, darlin'? We're real operatives now!"
Had my lips not been sewn shut by the giddy thrill shivering through me, I might have let out a derisive snort. Operatives - these two glamour-chasing jackasses clearly had no idea what was in store.
The walk passed in tense silence, The prez shooting frequent, furtive glances over his shoulder as he led the procession.
Poor saps. They have no idea the fun that awaits.
Finally, we arrived at my original apartment building, the President ushering them inside with urgent, shooing motions. The lobby was dimly lit, devoid of other tenants or witnesses. Perfect.
Romeo and Julio seemed to relax a fraction as the door of the apartment slammed shut behind them. No more being hunted, no more looking over their shoulders. They'd emerged victorious, the conquering heroes hailed as-
The thoughts died in their skulls as agonizing half-second later, when I peeled back my president disguise and slammed their heads together with a sickening crunch of compacting bone and gristle.
A shrill, decidedly feminine wail split the air as they went down in a limp sprawl, their eyes already starting to roll back in their skulls. I drank in the sight of their motionless forms with rapacious glee, every muscle in my body quivering with sadistic glee.
Then the laugh came - harsh, rasping peals of manic delight that reverberated off the cracked lobby walls. I threw back my head, baring my teeth in a ghastly rictus of unbridled ecstasy. Oh yes, this was the sweetest vintage, the most exquisite of bouquets!
So lost was I in my orgiastic reverie, I barely even registered the other presences filtering in from the shadows of the living room. Lucky's gruff chuckle, Lavinia's throaty purr, Psyche's tinkling giggle - a veritable symphony backing my unhinged soliloquy.
And there, sitting in a battered armchair with an expression of paternal bemusement, was the real President. I staggered toward him, clutching at my aching ribs as the laughter gradually trailed off into ragged, panting gasps.
"Well..." I wheezed, swiping at the tears streaking my cheeks with the back of my hand. "I'd say we gave those two one hell of a show, eh Mr. President?"
The old man harrumphed dourly, but I caught the slight quirk at the corners of his mouth. "Indeed you did, you sick bastards. Though I do wish you'd been a touch...gentler."
My gaze drifted back to the crumpled forms of the lovers, a fresh peal of giggles rising in my throat. Romeo and Julio, the fearsome mercenary duo - laid low by nothing more than my duplicitous acting chops and a spot of percussive cranial trauma.
Oh, how the old gods have fallen. But not to worry - the grand finale was still to come. I just needed them...rested up and fighting fit for the main event.
Let the healing coma work its magic, I decided, allowing my victims their peace.
After all, I wanted them at their full potential when I showed them the depths of my affection and mercy...
— Bab baru akan segera rilis — Tulis ulasan
Anda mungkin juga menyukai
Komentar Paragraf
Fitur komentar paragraf sekarang ada di Web! Arahkan kursor ke atas paragraf apa pun dan klik ikon untuk menambahkan komentar Anda.
Selain itu, Anda selalu dapat menonaktifkannya atau mengaktifkannya di Pengaturan.
MENGERTI
Bab 44: XXXXIII - The Lovers 1
The safe house was cloaked in shadows, the only sound was the steady rise and fall of my chest as I feigned sleep on the rumpled bed. To the untrained eye, it was the picture of vulnerability - a tempting target for the two mercenaries stalking their way closer.
"How pathetic," Romeo and Julio's voices echoed in unison, like some haunting chorus from the depths of hell itself. "Is this the great Diablo that presented himself as the seeker of truth?"
Their movements were a flawless mirror, every step, every gesture performed in perfect synchronicity. In a flash, their weapons - twin daggers that seemed to writhe with a sinister life of their own - lashed out towards the prone figure on the bed.
Only instead of rending flesh, the whips tore through an intangible mirage, and the form of that clone exploded in a maelstrom of tarot cards. A deep, mocking laugh reverberated around them as the wind carried the cards in a vortex.
"You'll have to do better than that, boys," my rich baritone rolled out from the shadows. The mercenaries whirled to find me lounging casually in a high-backed chair, long legs crossed as I inspected them with an amused smirk. "Lucky for you two, you just might get your chance."
Romeo and Julio eyed the reclining figure warily, daggers slipping into their hands in that perfect synchronized movement.
"So this is the great Diablo," their voices blended once more in that discordant harmony. "Not so impressive up close. Looks like we've got ourselves a little love triangle"
I laughed, my hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of my katana. "More like a love square, if you count the government pulling your strings."
In the blink of an eye, they separated - one sweeping in a whirling flurry of steel, the other circling to flank me from behind. Their blades seemed to cut the very air itself, slashing and stabbing with preternatural speed and coordination.
Yet I didn't so much as flinch, almost lazily rotating the chair to keep both assailants in view. I deflected each strike with almost contemptuous ease using my katana.
"You two are good - I'll give you that," I mused, my mocking smile never wavering. "But you're still just whelps playing at being wolves."
Gritting their teeth in shared frustration, Romeo and Julio linked hands, closing their eyes as they willed their very beings into synchronization. This time, when they struck - a sweeping cross slash followed by a flurry of thrusts - their forms blurred, their weapons multiplying in a dizzying kaleidoscope of whirling blades.
A heartbeat later, the chair was a shredded ruin, stuffing and splinters scattered in a wide berth around it. But where Eros should have been...nothing. Just the sudden stillness of the card storm, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
The deathly hush shattered with a haunting chuckle from directly behind them.
"My turn."
I barely had time to savor that momentary sense of triumph before instinct took over. Whirling with blinding speed, I brought my blade screaming down towards their exposed backs.
The sound of rending flesh and Romeo's anguished howl split the air like a thunderclap. His left arm - severed just below the shoulder - went spinning away in a gruesome arc, spraying crimson in its wake.
They managed to move and save their vital spots, but nevertheless, a hand lost is a bonus for me to turn this 2v1 into a fair fight.
Julio's face contorted in a rictus of rage and shared agony, his mouths moving in frantic unison to trigger...something. Their forms shimmered and blurred, melting and twisting into some hellish new amalgamation.
I stumbled back a step. Before my disbelieving eyes, a towering vision took shape, like something ripped straight from the nightmares of the ancient world as if the old god walked again with us.
Eight arms erupted from their conjoined bodies, each grasping a wicked curved blade that seemed to drink in the shadows. Romeo and Julio had become a grotesque mockery of the multi-limbed goddess Durga, their unified forms flickering between male and female in a dizzying, seizure-inducing strobe.
"Behold, Diablo," their voices rang out in a deafening chorus, at once beautiful and terrible. "Durga's Lovers ultimate technique - Loved by the Universe itself!"
I'll admit, despite the twisting unease in my gut, I couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer pageantry on display. These two were showmen through and through, seemingly plucked from the pages of an antediluvian fever dream.
"The goddess of destruction herself descending from Vaikuntha to take care of Diablo, not bad," I called out with a confidence I didn't quite feel, forcing a lazy grin. "Let's see if your little dance entrances Death herself, shall we?"
With a resounding war cry, their blades descended - a relentless, whirling vortex of shimmering steel. I moved on pure instinct, my katana becoming a blur of deflecting arcs and sweeping parries.
Feinting left, I managed to avoid the first keening slash, only to have to throw myself into an awkward sideways roll as a knee-height blade scythed towards my legs. Twin swords hammered down from above in quicksilver succession, driving me back in a shower of sparks and sheared steel.
On and on it went, a dizzying, breathless dance of death, their blades cleaving through space even as I twisted and contorted to avoid their fury. I was tiring rapidly, my arms burning from the exertion, sweat streaking my face.
Then, inevitably, the mistake - a misstep, a split-second lapse in my guard. That was all the opening they needed. Three blades swept in, impossibly fast and terribly precise.
I had just enough time for my eyes to go wide in shock and denial before fiery agony blossomed in my abdomen. The stench of my own seared flesh filled my nostrils as I looked down in numb disbelief at the trio of swords protruding from my torso.
Above me, that titanic nightmarish form blotted out the world, the blades raised high in preparation for the final, killing stroke.
My fingers clenched weakly at the oozing wounds as I stared up into the gaping maw of oblivion. Was...was this it? Was this how the great Eros met his end, torn asunder by these preening prima donnas? Anger flared, mingling with bitter resignation.
No. Not like this...