The man struggled in his hands, choking against his vice grip. Hands grasping. Flailing. Quiet cries for help.

Mark squeezed harder, heaving through teeth. He shoved the man down to his knees. Muscle spasmed beneath his fingers. The pulse of life. The man scratched every part of him, but he kept his grip.

"Just a little more," he hissed. He banged the man's head against the concrete. Blood sprayed on the ground. Crimson. Black in the moonlight.

Mark gasped for breath as the man went limp, giving one last squeeze before pulling away. His heart pumped in his ears, a ferocious drum, and a smile grew on his panting lips. He brushed back his hair with bloody fingers, reaching into his coat pocket for a vial and a dropper.

Kneeling closer to the body, he pressed the dropper into the man's thick blood, letting it ooze into the tiny, gem-like vial. He sealed it with a bit of cork, stowing away the items into his pockets.

"I can see it now," huffed Mark, still breathless. "The press panicking again. The government stressing that they can't catch me."

He pulled out tweezers and plucked out strands of the man's hair, storing them away in a plastic bag that he hid in his coat.

"I'm right beneath their noses."

He pulled out his phone, scrolling down to one of the contacts and pressing call. After a few rings, it picked up, and a voice came through the line.

"Amy," said Mark with a singsong voice. "Care to help out a friend?"

He received a pleased 'yes' and an 'I'll be there in fifteen minutes.' Mark smiled.

"Perfect," he said. "I'm in the third location."

———

Fifteen minutes later, Amy walked onto the scene, clothed in all-black and latex gloves. She greeted Mark with a nod, eyes flitting down to the body on the floor.

"You hit him good," she said, kneeling by the cadaver's head and examining it. Her eyes widened, and she pouted. "Is this Eric Myers?"

"B-List actor and naturalist activist? Yes, he is," said Mark with a grin. Amy groaned, standing up.

"I actually liked this guy," she whined with a stamp of her foot.

"I know," said Mark, walking up to the body. A dark light came across his eyes, and he rose a brow at Amy. "You wanna keep his head? It'd be like his signature but more."

Amy laughed at that, hovering her hands over her stomach. "Oh, I wish," she snorted, gazing down at the celebrity. "But my job is to get rid of evidence. Not keep it."

"And I applaud you for that," said Mark. "Ready to get to work?"

She nodded, and Mark lifted up the body with a grunt, the dead weight taxing his muscles. Amy pulled a few items out of her thick belt to clean up the blood, and they both set to work, removing the scene of any possible evidence and tracking misleads as they left.

As they finished, Mark slipped out his phone and went through his contacts again, finding the name, and pressed call. He waited a few moments for an answer, watching Amy pack up through the corner of his eye, and held the phone up to his ear when the line picked up.

"Ethan," greeted Mark with a smile. "What do you say for some dinner with me tonight?"

———

"This is my twenty-sixth kill," said Mark as he set up the kitchen table, smiling over at Ethan. "A few more, and my collection should be complete."

"The fact you haven't been caught yet surprises me," said Ethan, bringing the main dish and setting it in the middle of the table: roasted leg. "All these articles and attention around you? You'd expect your sentence to be coming right around the corner."

Mark smirked as they both sat down across from each other.

"I'm careful," he said.

Ethan nodded and chuckled. "And you eat your evidence. Or at least—" He motioned to Mark's pocket. "—most of it."

At that, Mark slipped out a string of jewelry and set it on the table, staring at it with admiration. He stroked his finger down its rigid components, remembering every kill it held.

"Ethan," he said after a moment of silence, staring at the end of the decorated string. "I want the final piece of this necklace to be an Evolved's."

Ethan jolted, brows raising. "What?"

"An Evolved," he repeated, lifting the handmade jewelry and letting it tilt in the light. He gave a twisted smile. "Wouldn't that look so great? An emblem of their body—right in the middle."

"You're talking of suicide, Mark," pointed out Ethan, setting down his knife. Mark hummed, picking up his own knife and slicing off a sliver of what was once the man he'd killed hours ago.

"I kill famous people, Ethan," he said, watching his fork slide apart the strings of human meat with satisfaction. He lifted the morsel up to his mouth, chewing and humming in absolute delight. "How hard can it be?"

"Yeah, those are people," he said. "The Evolved—" He motioned his hands. "—they're—"

"Still people," said Mark, eating another forkful as Ethan's mouth bobbed up and down as he searched for words.

"They have powers," he tried reasoning.

"Not really," said Mark, putting down his fork. "They have... abilities, is more like it. It's not like they can control the elements or all that fantasy bullshit."

Ethan leaned forward in his seat. "They may have simple abilities," he said, "but they still have an advantage over us with them. They have something we don't."

"It's not like I'm going for someone like Antinstine," chuckled Mark. He shook his head, hand hovering over the pocket with the jewelry. "No, I'm going for someone easier, obviously, but with still enough fame around him."

Ethan sighed, reaching over and serving himself a sliver of meat as he rose a brow at Mark. "I have a feeling I won't like who's name comes out of your mouth."

Mark stared evenly at Ethan, a smirk toying the edges of his lips. "Oh, you won't," he said with pride, straightening himself in his seat. "I'm going to kill the Tear Stealer." His eyes glimmered. "I want a vial of his tears for the final piece."

Ethan's eyes fluttered, and he held up a hand to stop Mark from talking. "Him?"

Mark nodded with a smile, and Ethan shook his head in disbelief.

"He's known across the world, Mark," said Ethan. "He's been with presidents, royalty, government officials, you name it—"

"Which makes me want to murder him even more," said Mark with a grin. "Oh come on, don't look so horrified. It'll be fun! Killing celebrities gets tiring after a while, if you must know."

"So killing an Evolved is something new for you to try."

"I'm not asking for you to support me," said Mark. "I did expect you to be a little more excited for me, though."

Ethan rolled his eyes, folding over the meat and stuffing it in his mouth. "Whatever," he said through chewing. "If you get in trouble though, don't blame me."

"You'll look for me if I go missing though, right?"

Ethan rose a brow. "I may be your friend, Mark," he said, "but I'm not killing myself searching for your ass. I don't mess with the Evolved." He cut himself another piece of meat. "Plus, I like killing others myself. Rescuing you would end that joy for me."

"Well, that's reassuring," sighed Mark with a laugh.

"This meat's amazing, by the way," said Ethan, dropping the subject. "I can taste his fear, though." He let the juice ooze into his teeth as he bit into the meat, brow knitted in thought. "Strangulation?"

Mark's eyes lit up, and he nodded.

"On the dot," he said with a grin. Ethan returned the gesture, and they lapsed into silence, leaving behind the conversation of the Evolved and enjoying their dinner.

Thank you so much for reading! Tell me what you thought in the comments :)

Have a great day!
-Kassian