by CY Jones
The first song is done, so I start the melody to the second, my death song, the last thing they’ll hear before they die. I don’t waste time humming, my need to kill them is too strong, so I go straight for the words.
Got a secret, can you keep it? Swear this one you’ll save.
Better lock it in your pocket, taking this one to the grave.
If I show you, then I know you won’t tell what I said
‘Cause three can’t tell a secret if two of us are dead
The last line of the song I change to fit my needs. It’s with those words that elemental proves he’s not as stupid as he looks and he’s the first to break from my trance, but unfortunately for him, it’s too late and he’s already trapped. “Checkmate,” I say with a sinister smile on my face.
He tries to move, use his power, anything; but it’s useless because while I was dancing circles around them, my feet were drawing a ward into the dirt to incapacitate them.
“Fucking bitch,” he shouts, breaking Donny boy out his trance.
“What the hell?” he growls when he sees he can’t move.
“Oh dear, oh my, what a pickle you’re two are in,” I say in a sing-song voice, keeping the same hypnotic tone as my death song because in reality, this is just the second verse. It seems the song is not yet over as I’m having too much fun. I spin and I spin, a little girl again, drunk on happiness and what’s to come. My prey trapped like rats is what makes me so fucking giddy.
Why do our darkest deeds do we tell?
They burn in our brains, become a living Hell.
“Do you two have a secret you like to tell before you die?” I ask. This is their time to confess their sins. Their last rights. I’m the priest as well as the executioner.
“Let us go, you crazy bitch,” elemental yells.
I pout, poking my lips out dramatically. “How mean,” I tell them both. Sure, I’m a little crazy, batshit even, but right now, I’m having too much fun. The thrill of the kill sizzles inside me. My ears ring with violence. The deadly song plays on repeat in my head like a broken record. Walking in front of them, I give them a dramatic bow. We’re at the conclusion of my symphony and it’s time for my fun to come to an end. On my tip toes, perfect like a graceful ballerina, I dance circles around them. My arms twist and turn above my head as I pull a long strand of my hair from my head and come to a sudden stop behind Donatello, reaching over and dangling it in his face. He’s confused as he stares at the chestnut strand glowing in the moonlight. My lips barely graze his lobe and despite his precarious situation, he shudders with arousal and groans.
“I have a secret, do you want to know what it is?” I whisper in his ear. My voice is husky, hypnotic, and enticing.
When he answers, he pants, “Yes.”
Reaching around him, I gently wrap the hair around his neck and pull tight with all my might, and smile wickedly as it slices clean through his skin. Then laugh when his head falls from his body with a thud and rolls onto the hard ground, stopped by elemental’s boot. With wide, unseeing eyes, Donatello’s lifeless head looks up at elemental and, like music to my ears, the perfect leadsinger to my song, elemental screams.
“I’m sorry; I’m sorry,” he sobs, dropping to his knees. Pathetic. Where’s his bravado at now? The tables have turned significantly and he turns into this sobbing mess.
“If I would have begged, would you have let me go?” I ask, amused.
“Yes, oh God yes. I was never going to kill you. Just bring you here to scare you,” he lies through his perfect row of teeth.
“Liar, liar pants on fire,” I sing. “Oh, so much fun, so much fun, but what to do with you now?” I twirl and twirl, circling his body. A better idea comes to mind. A cruel fucking idea. With a snap of my fingers, the ward disappears and he looks up at me wide-eyed, not quite believing I’m actually going to let him go. Looking him dead in the eyes, I wait a beat and say one word. “Run.” Without hesitation, he takes off through the swamp.
If he thinks I’m letting him go that easily, he must really be stupid. He can run all he wants, he won’t get far. There’s others out here who will love their sweet revenge. I can feel it in the air, prickling my skin. The wind whispers a haunting song as the souls of the dead who have yet to move on due to unfinished business begs to be released. Spirits of the victims these assholes raped and killed here.
Spirit we call
From Death’s sweet thrall
Thy barren womb
And wasted lips
Bring us truth
With thy deadly wrath
It doesn’t take long after I recite my spell that I hear a blood curdling scream coming from the direction the elemental took off towards. Spirits of the swamp, I hope you finally get your peace, I whisper to the air and a warm breeze caresses my cheeks in thanks.
Oliver
I blink my eyes, still not believing what I just saw out here, blending in the shadows. My brother is by my side, so I’m not alone. He’s a witness, but still, why won’t my brain compute the visuals from my eyes?
“Did she just kill that dude with a hair?” my brother asks in awe.
“Nevermind that, did she just dance and sing those two into incapacitation and render them powerless?”
Following after them, I was sure she’d need our help. We were already well aware of the sick games Cayden and his boys like to play out here in the swamps. All the female mages they raped and killed. We told the headmaster, and he told the Council, who didn’t really give a shit. They said if those lured out here are too weak to escape their plight then they deserved to die. Going to them was complete bullshit and a waste of life. My brother and I would have put a stop to them ourselves, but our hands were tied. As dark mages, we cannot interfere with the affairs of the light mages unless it involves us directly.
Already knowing the location of their murdering spot, we came straight here. I had to fight staying back as they surrounded her and started to grope her body with their filthy rapist hands. The whole time they touched her, she just stood there, calmly, without fighting back. That should have been my first clue that she was more than what she seemed. She was too calm. I was seconds away from saying fuck Zion and his orders about to move in to annihilate them both. As soon as they took a dark mage, their immunity from our wrath was rendered null and void, but the strange look in her eyes stopped me in my tracks and I sat back with my brother and watched the show. Her hazels blazed with fire, glowing in the night. This is not the gaze of someone defeated. No, her face said ‘just wait’.
“We can’t tell Zion this,” my brother states the obvious.
“No, he’ll kill her,” I finish, following his thought. He wanted to see if she’s a threat and yes... she... is. A big fucking threat.
“What are we going to tell him when he asks for a report?” I question.
“We’ll tell him she got away. She’s a harlequin with unknown powers. Tell him she did some mumbo jumbo, harlequin BS, used her voodoo powers, and got loose. A dead man can tell no tales, so it’s not like anyone can call us out on our lie.” He’s right about that, but still, I worry. A week from now, we’ll invoke the champions and despite what Zion said in class, one will definitely choose her. And if that happens, he will go after her.
“Let’s go before he comes out here wondering what’s taking us so long.”
I give her one last longing look before I follow after my brother. When the time is right, we’ll meet and just like she sang out of her pretty red lips, she will tell me all her secrets.
Chapter 6
Quinn
“Ten. Ready or not, here I come,” I sing in a taunting tone as I skip down the halls gleefully. I want him scared. Wherever he’s hiding, I hope he’s shaking in his designer boots. Serves him right for picking a fight with me and going as far to take away the most precious thing in the world to me. For Angelica, I’d set the world on fire.
“Where, oh where has little Cayden gone? Where, oh where can he be? Oh where
, oh my, oh me,” I sing loudly. The bells in my hair jingle to my voice, slowly, and enticing, luring our prey with a catchy tune. Murder and blood, blood and murder. When was the last time we had so much fun? I ask my alter. Really? I can’t even remember.
“Are you here?” I call, kicking open a door to a lone broom closet. “Maybe there.” I look behind a couch. Nope. Not in the crawl space either. “Not here, not there, not anywhere.” I move on from this hall and search the next until I get an idea. A frightening make my cock hard wicked idea. “Oh, you’re making this game very good, aren’t you? I’d applaud you if you weren’t currently pissing me off.” In my hand, I wave my staff, whispering a spell, and the footprints of my prey glow, lighting the way in the dark halls. “Tick tock goes the clock,” I start as I follow the steps. “Do be kind, what’s the time?” I continue, amusing myself with my rhymes. “Oh dearest me, can it be?” I creep around the corner. “The clock’s struck one, now you’re done. It’s time for you to die,” I finish.
“What a clever boy you are, cloaking your scent. You didn’t leave a single drop of your essence behind for me to follow, but guess what, Cayden, oh Cayden? You made one fatal mistake. You should have cloaked your footsteps.” Each word is pronounced a beat apart and when I get to the end, the finality of this grand chase, I’m slightly disappointed. Figures he’d run here, I mutter, rolling my eyes. How unoriginal.
Holding my staff firmly in my hand, I use it to knock on the door, and the sound echoes in the empty hall making it sound so much more terrifying and ominous. Normally, the dorms are full of life, but this floor is empty. Everyone is in hiding because they know the Joker is out hunting. I told them all not to get in my way and they listened.
“Come out now, Cayden. Do you really think a door will stop me from coming after you?” I knock again and this time Nora, the slut I fucked, opens the door.
“He’s not here,” she lies with wobbly lips. I remember those lips wrapped around my cock. Pissed, my eyes glow an eerie blue and I tilt my head at my prey, loving the way she trembles even more. I am the cat and she’s nothing more than an itty bitty, tiny mouse. Was it just yesterday she was giving me such pleasure? Now, all she fills me with is disdain.
“Move,” I order, pushing her aside with my staff then I close the door in her face, leaving her to cry out in the hall for her soon to be dead boyfriend. “Cayden, oh Cayden, what a pussy you are. Hiding behind a skirt. Did you really think she’d stop me? Distract me maybe?” Silence. “I wonder, if I told her to get on her knees and suck me off like she did last night, would you have stopped her or listened like a scared little rat as she gobbled up my cum? No answer, huh? Cat got your tongue?” I ask, using my staff to smash the mirror to Nora’s vanity. Tiny pieces of glass litter the floor, tinkling like deadly sparkly glitter. “Oh fuck. Ten years bad luck, but what a hell of a masterpiece. You hear that, Cayden,” I shout. “I’m setting the stage just for you. Come out of your little hidey hole and say thank you.”
I close my eyes, open my ears, and listen. As hard as he tries to hide it, his breathing is still rapid, frantic with fear. I always planned on knocking him down from his throne, just not this soon, but a rise straight to the top does save time.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” I sing. I didn’t think he would, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Some people’s stupidity is astonishing.
Joker is impatient. We both know the slimy weasel is hiding up under the bed like some scared child. He wants to end our fun and paint the room red, but… I’m not done yet.
Twirling in elegant circles, I move quickly, flipping around the small space, murmuring a spell to cover it with a thick fog, then I jump high into the air onto the beam and lay in wait, picking at my nails with Digga, my faithful dagger. Once the room clears, it’s another twenty minutes before he makes his move and crawls his scared ass from up under the bed, but in his panic, he chooses the wrong side to escape from and the glass littering the floor cuts his arms and palms. Ignoring the pain, he keeps going and I almost admire him for that, but even a trapped rat will chew its own arm off to get away. He thinks the fog will cover him. How wrong he is. Right before he can get to the door, I jump down from my hiding spot that was so much better than his. People really need to learn to look up. Face to face, I smile a wide terrifying smile, I wish he could see hidden behind my mask and I shout, “Boo,” and shit you not, he pisses himself.
Joker, not Quinn, snarls and lifts him up by his neck, squeezing tight. Blood and ammonia fills our nose and to us psychos, it’s as sweet as honey and sugar. “I wonder, Cayden, if I squeeze hard enough, will your eyes pop out your sockets like in the cartoons?”
His answer is garbled, but I couldn’t care less what he says. I hope he’s not begging for mercy because he won’t be getting any from me. Instead, I walk him over to the glass and throw him face first onto the floor. Gripping him by a fist full of hair, I ram his face over and over onto the glass.
“This is so much fun, isn’t it, Cayden? Like Wack-O-Mole with your face.” I laugh and laugh ‘til tears leak from my eyes. He starts to make this garbled unintelligible sound and I lean down to listen. “What’s that?” Slam. “I didn’t hear you.” Slam. Slam again. “I wonder,” I muse as a wicked idea forms in my head. “Is your body bouncy like a trampoline?”
Excited at the thought, I get up and jump high into the air before landing hard on his lumpy body with my combat boots. I do this over and over. “You’re a bony trampoline with not much bounce, but you’ll do.” Jumping up and down, specks of blood splash everywhere as I paint the room in Cayden’s blood. Now Nora won’t be alone. Pieces of Cayden will always be here with her, literally.
Once Joker is satisfied and our fun has come to an end, I drag what’s left of Cayden’s body out in the hall and dump it in the lobby for all to see. His body is unrecognizable and gasps of horror ripple through the crowd, but there’s no doubt it’s him. Addressing my audience, I take my mask off and give them a flourished bow. “End scene, the deed is done…” Pause. “Where the hell is my fucking applause?” I holler.
Scared, they start to clap, slow at first, but soon, it turns thunderous. Satisfied, I put my mask back on. Until my sister is returned safely to me, Joker will remain.
Chapter 7
Angelica
When I get back to the academy, my brother is outside in full jester geer, berating some dude who looks like he eats children for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. That’s how big he is. My brother isn’t a small dude, but compared to him, he’s like compact size. I want to laugh because it’s so funny to see Quinn’s hand waving around nowhere near the big guy’s face, but I’m also curious why Goliath is just letting him. Donny boy’s words repeat in my head. Quinn is becoming a big deal. Seeing him now proves not all rumors are lies. As soon as my brother notices me, he sprints up to the dune buggy and lifts me off it, hugging me tight as he spins us around in circles like some cheesy romance film.
“Angelica, thank fuck. Where were you?” he cries into my neck. The porcelain of his mask has a biting cold and I shiver from it and the cool night air. His worry is palpable and I snuggle in deeper to reassure him I’m fine. Joker was waiting on me to get back, but this is my brother holding me. When I pull back, I gaze deep into his blue orbs, peering past the eye holes in his mask. They are cloaked in darkness, a murderer set free unchallenged on a killing spree. These are the Joker’s eyes that stare back at me.
“The asshat that took me and some other goon drove me out to the swamp,” I answer and Quinn curses.
“Fucking hell, are you okay? They didn’t..?” he cuts off.
“No. They didn’t. I took care of them before they could get that far.” His gaze searches mine, looking for traces of a lie, but he won’t find one. I told him the truth.
“And their bodies?” I love that he doesn’t question if I killed them or not.
“Gator food,” I mumble into his skin, breathing in his fresh scent. He smells like home. Not our house
, but the home I made for him in my heart.
Just like he did me, I check him out to make sure he’s injury free. With his mask on, he looks like a scary fucker. A demented clown that’ll lead you away from the party with promises of candy just to kill you later in the sewer. No... not a clown, the Joker. And not the silly one Batman chases around Gothem City, but the one on the pack of player cards that gives you a demented smile. The one even our nightmares wouldn’t fuck with. His clothes are clean, but there’s specks of blood towards the bottom of his jeans and jacket, and his boots are soaked in blood. Cayden’s blood if I have to take a guess.
“Are you scared?” he asks. His question is vulnerable, whispered softly for only my ears to hear.
I pull him down and grab the cheeks of his mask on both sides and push it up until it rests on top of his head. His gaze takes me prisoner and I move closely until our lips are nearly touching. My own gaze stares back just as intense. This close, the blue disappears and all I can see is black. “Never,” I tell him with absolute certainty and he pulls me the rest of the distance until lips soft as pillows caress my forehead.