CHAPTER TWO: Unluck
I hadn't really planned to be scruffed and held with my feet off the floor by a known murderer, but hey, I'd gotten just a little too cocky.
The worst part of it was that I couldn't see Killer's face, so I couldn't figure out if he was about to straight up end my life or not. Knowing his reputation he likely was, but maybe there was a chance I could talk him out of it?
"Okay, I know what you're thinking." I started, keeping my voice as level as possible. Pirates were a whole different breed who could smell fear. "What the hell is this pint sized brat doing going through our personal property? I'll kill him. Something along those lines, yeah?"
Killer didn't respond. He just continued holding me up off the ground like some kind of pathetic little kitty cat.
Yeesh. Can this guy even talk?
"I'll take that strong, nerve-wracking silence as a yes. Listen, you've got it all wrong! I've been trying to track your crew down for weeks, hoping that maybe I could join up! Everyone was asleep when I found you, so I just let myself in. I guess I got a little too comfortable, huh? That's my bad, buddy."
Still, the man gave me nothing to work with. Not even a grunt, or a movement. Was he even human under there? Could he understand what I was saying? I knew I wasn't exactly spewing my best bullshit, but how could I when I was basically talking to a rock dressed to the fours, at most, in polka dots?
One slice with those blades and I'm a goner. Think fast, (Y/N), ol' buddy!
"Okay...I get it...You're not interested in recruiting a scrawny little bastard like me, right? I understand...I'll get out of your luscious golden mane and spare you any more trouble, if you'll just pop me back down."
It was then that Killer made a move. Sadly, it wasn't the move that I wanted, lifting me higher off the ground, his fist closing tighter around the back of my shirt collar.
"How cliché, but somebody'll be in the market for this?" He parroted the last words I had spoken to myself before he had caught me, and I mentally beat myself to a pulp. It was a slip up I had never made before, speaking out loud whilst trying to get a job like that done.
Shit. I can't talk my way out of this. I shouldn't have had all those coffee beans, or that booze earlier. This mistake is fatal.
"Yeah, alright, you caught me golden handed, I'll admit." I sighed, lifting my hands in defeat. "I need money, for super personal reasons that would be far too emotional to talk about with another manly man such as yourself. By the way, might I just say that you are exceptionally good at sneaking up on people? I'm legitimately impre-"
It took everything I had not to cry out in pain when Killer slammed me down, hard, against the desk, partially cracking it in two. My front probably fairing not much better. All of the air was knocked out of my lungs, and I wheezed and choked helplessly under his hand.
"Shut. Up." He warned, voice deep and dripping with venom. I was dead meat, I was well aware of that. My only hope would be if I could somehow get ahold of my other pistol, but the distance between my hands and my holster was much too great. He'd lop my head off before I even made it half way.
Well, at least it isn't Kid. A quick death is preferable.
"What the fuck is going on?!"
Nevermind.
My view was upside down, but when Kid entered the room, I felt the danger. It was like the devil himself licking a scorching tongue up the back of my neck. His bared teeth looked like they were set in a twisted grin from my angle, but I knew he was snarling at the sight of me.
"Caught this bastard trying to steal stuff. He got ahold of the things in the bottom drawer." Killer explained flatly, giving my torso another shove downward, the wood beneath my chest splintering more, starting to tear into my clothes.
"Hah?! How did he get in here?!" Kid had been awoken by the noise, that much was apparent. His striking red hair was all messy and tangled, and his eyes squinted in the dark. "God dammit...MOSH?!"
Heavy, thudding footsteps grew closer and closer until a hulking great man dashed in, a little breathless and looking like he knew he was in for it once he laid eyes on me.
"C..Captain?!" His voice came out in a pitched squeak, and I likely would have laughed if I wasn't quite literally about to die. "I..I swear I didn't see anybody lurking around! He-"
"Fuckin'...whatever! At least Killer was on the ball tonight..." I was a little surprised that the near-giant, Mosh, wasn't torn to shreds then and there, but that quickly kicked into fear because it was me that was about to bear the brunt of Kid's wrath.
"You gonna kill him now, or mess with him a bit?" Killer asked, almost his full weight pressing into my back and nearly breaking it in two.
"H..hold up! Wait a minute! This is all just a big misunderstanding!" I shouted, trying to lift my head up and twist so I could see the pirate captain properly. It didn't work so well.
Yes, I could see him better, but that was now the problem. Kid was large. Kid was intimidating. Kid was oozing with rage. Kid was...
...kind of hot..?
"...Nevermind. I got nothin'." I finished in a murmur, having lost my train of thought. It wasn't often that happened, and it was annoying. I was usually a quick thinker, and great at talking my way out of things, but not tonight.
His eyes were like molten metal, killing me repeatedly as each second passed. If I hadn't been in imminent danger, maybe I would've have thought they were pretty cool.
"Throw him down in the cell. I'm too tired for this shit right now. Leave the bag here."
With that, the beast of a man turned and left, shoving his way past Mosh, and the rest of the crowd that had gathered outside of the door. Following his order, Killer lifted me up easily, a little less aggressive with his crewmates as he passed on through. They were all eager to beat my ass, I could tell from their expressions, and I pulled my hat down over my eyes so I didn't have to see them.
The depths of the Victoria Punk were dark and dismal, an almost sour stench to the air. Once the cell door creaked open, I was thrown in without warning, my head cracking against the far wall. It hurt, and I knew I'd be plagued with a terrible headache after that.
"Damn...Your name really suits you..." I groaned, rubbing at my skull over the material of my hat before the man reached down and tore the holster off my side, along with my remaining pistol.
"Shut it. You're officially on death row, little boy. Start counting down the hours. I give you six, at most, until we dump your corpse in the sea." I almost forgot that he was referring to my own corpse when he spoke, his voice low and smooth.
I slowly sat myself up as he stepped out and locked the cell door, reaching into my chest pocket and pulling out the map I had stolen.
"Wait. You forgot this. No point in keeping it if I'm gonna be dead soon anyway, right?"
Beneath his mask, slightly muffled, I could hear his frustrated growl rumble from his throat, and I edged myself over to the bars to hand it over. Instead of snatching the map, Killer seized my hand and yanked it through, pressing my wrist against steel and bending what wasn't supposed to bend.
"Did you really think you could steal from us, you sorry little punk?" He hissed, staring directly into my eyes through the small holes in his helmet. The pain was intense, but I didn't scream. I wouldn't. That would be giving him what he wanted, and I was stubborn. "If I had it my way, you'd already be dead."
I had heard plenty of bones breaking before. Chicken bones at the dinner table, my brother's leg when he tried to jump off the second floor of our house, the occasional public hanging when the rope grew taut.
I hadn't, however, experienced the sound of my own bones breaking. Not until now.
It was loud, and it sounded almost wet as I watched my wrist snap backwards, map dropping from my hand as I grit my teeth. The faintest sound escaped in the form of a wheeze, and my whole body tensed, hard.
That was my favourite wrist...
"Kid's sick. He likes playing with weak little shits like you, and you know what? I might be a little sick too, because I'll be sitting right here, watching him torture you until you're begging to be put out of your misery..."
There were a few moronic comments I wanted to make about what he had said, but I was in too much pain to purposely be an idiot in that moment, and honestly, yeah, I was genuinely scared for my life.
"Heh...Sounds l..like you two sh..share one hell of a kink..."
Haha. I lied. I'm always like this.
Giving my wrist another yank in the wrong direction, still not earning any screams or wails, Killer threw my arm back at me, stalking away and back up to the deck, leaving me to cradle my very broken wrist against my chest.
I could have cried, but what was the point? Unless my tears could magically heal my wound and open up a path for escape, they were useless. Scooting myself over to the wall again, I rested my back against it and tipped my hat over my eyes, heaving a shaky sigh.
Well, this is it. Come morning, I'm dead...
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***I'm trying to build a Killer cosplay for a con next month, but I'm on limited time and will likely cry stressing over it pffff.
As much as I love soft-boy Killer, he can't always be soft boy. He's named that for a reason.
Next Time: Slaughter***
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