Chapter 2
Kage
THE EXECUTIONER
My hands are drenched in crimson; my favorite fucking color.
The warm, sticky feeling of Jonathan Castro's blood pools in my palms, seeping into the creases of my skin. The familiar feeling is comforting for me. Grounding. A reminder that I’m the one in control now.
Every drop spilled is a release of the poison that was injected into me at a young age.
I can almost feel the ghosts of my past getting quieter with each kill. Almost, but it will never be enough.
Castro’s blood is streaked across my face like warpaint, and I wear it like a badge of honor. Each streak is a testament to the raw, brutal violence I just unleashed.
The strong scent of charcoal clings to our clothes, smoke woven into every thread, but I don't give a damn. I need a fucking drink. My throat’s scorched, my body vibrating with adrenaline and the lingering rush of satisfaction that follows a kill.
I can taste it on my tongue. Raw, metallic, and bitter.
The image of Castro’s face is at the forefront of my mind, taunting me, reminding me that there’s more names, more bodies, and more souls to take.
I need something to drown it out, something stronger.
Besides, the bars around here always reek of stale cigarettes and cheap beer.
No one is going to notice the faint smell of bonfire that lingers on our skin.
“Jimmy should be pleased that he won’t need to send in the clean up crew this time around, but you should probably clean yourself up before you scare someone,” my brother Lennox says, his voice amused but with an edge of warning, as he secures his motorcycle helmet onto his head.
I chuckle, my lips curling into a sinister grin as I grab a bottle of water and a washcloth out of the saddlebag of my bike.
“I always come prepared, brother,” I state as water splashes onto my face and blood soaked hands, the liquid warming against the cold night air.
I wipe my hands off slowly, savoring the moment.
The weight of what we’ve done tonight is a delicious secret I get to carry around.
I throw the bloody rag into the fire and look back at my brother with a grin and a clean face.
He shakes his head at me and starts the engine of his Harley.
It roars to life, echoing in the space between us.
With the heat of the house ablaze behind us, we set out towards my new favorite bar.
I don’t typically like finding new places to unwind after our kills, being around a new crowd that isn’t used to us and calling attention to ourselves is not something we need, however our usual haunt was closed down about two weeks ago due to the owner disappearing without a trace.
I killed him quickly, my anger getting the best of me once again.
I wish I would have drawn that one out more.
He deserved torture to the hightest degree for what he had been doing.
If the pictures we found of young boys in various states of decay were any indication, he deserved a lifetime of misery.
We usually stick to the list of names that Jimmy provides us, but sometimes the trash presents itself and we need to take it to the curb.
Seeing those pictures, those boys around the same age as I was when I was abused, it brought up memories I didn’t know I had.
My memory’s shot to shit from past trauma, but every once in a while, a missing puzzle piece slides into place and my rage is fueled once again.
I can’t always control it, sometimes I take it a little too far, but Nox is always there to anchor me back down to reality.
My mind flickers back to Castro, his pathetic cries causing me to chuckle to myself.
We don't usually clean up by burning the homes of our victims. After a kill, we call Jimmy and his crew to do a thorough clean up, making the scene look like they died of natural causes. . But after stabbing him in his carotid with a rusty knife I found laying around, I didn’t have much of a choice.
The nasty fucker was running right at me when I stabbed him, causing blood to spurt profusely all over my brand new leather jacket.
I fucking loved that jacket, too. Bastard.
I had to start a little fire in the pit out back. Can’t exactly leave a crime scene with evidence all over myself. In my rage, I may have splashed some of the extra gasoline on the side of the house.
Rage makes your hands careless. Fire makes sure no one notices.
For the rest of the ride, I settle deep into my thoughts.
The memories of my past always threaten to consume me after I strike a name off our list. They creep into my vision like poison seeping through the cracks.
Hands in places they don’t belong, bruises painting skin, the rich scent of blood that never really fades.
I can feel it crawling up my throat, waiting for its moment to wrap itself around and choke me all over again.
But I force it all out, gripping hard on the one thing that’s been keeping my demons at bay. The one thing that dulls out all the noise and quiets all the ghosts, even if I don’t understand why.
Nox and I finally pull into the bar parking lot.
We grab a spot near the back, out of sight, and take off our helmets.
The cool breeze hits my face, a welcome reprieve after tonight's activities.
We step off our bikes, kicking down the stands with a quiet clink, and that's when we hear it. It’s karaoke night.
I look over at Nox with a grin, and I swear the look he gives me is nothing short of annoyance. Of course I didn’t mention that it was a karaoke bar. He wouldn’t have come otherwise, and I needed to see the one thing that draws me here.
“I’ll make sure to put your name down for Call Me Maybe, yeah?
” I laugh enjoying every second of this.
He flips me off causing me to chuckle, and I toss my helmet onto the seat of my Harley as we head towards the doors, the horrendous singing only getting louder the closer we get.
There’s a huge neon sign hanging above the door that's flashing Pour Decisions.
After killing the owner of our previous bar, I didn’t have a choice other than to find a new spot for us to drink.
I stumbled across this place by accident, figuring it was just another hole-in-the-wall where no one would look too closely.
Those are usually the best spots for guys like us to relax.
Nothing about it stood out, until she stepped out from behind the counter.
The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my fucking eyes on.
She caught me off guard and captured my attention like nothing else ever had, cutting right through the noise that blared in my head.
The moment I laid eyes on her, my body went still, my senses sharpened, and every nerve in my system locked onto her.
I didn’t know her name, didn’t know a damn thing about her, but I needed to.
I’ve been coming back here every chance I get, feeding Nox some bullshit excuse about needing time alone.
But the truth is, I just don’t want to share her with anyone.
Not even him. She’s mine, she just doesn’t know it yet. My own little addiction.
And yet, after a while, it started to feel as if I was betraying Nox. Keeping her a secret was just one more knife twisting between me and the only person I’ve ever trusted. I don’t want him to doubt me. I don’t want him to think this is—
My thoughts get cut short when a high pitched voice starts yelling towards the front of the bar. “Hey man let me through. This is bullshit. I just want to ask her something real quick. Come on, you know me, Joe.”
Trying to get past the bouncer is some scrawny looking dude who can’t be older than twenty-eight. Leaning forward in his chair, the bouncer says something that I can’t make out and the kid goes white in the face.
“Yeah, fuck you, and tell that bitch I’ll get to her sooner or later.” The bouncer is immediately on his feet, rushing at the kid. Nox and I share a quick look; he needs to be dealt with.
I don’t know if it’s just a twisted instinct that the “her” he could be talking about is my little addiction, or if it’s my constant rage that lunges me forward, but I make it to the kid first. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, I easily toss him against the wall and hold him there, his feet dangling against the brick.
He winces, his whole body flinching as he gets a good look at me.
I’m not sure what he sees but I can make a damn good guess—death.
“Maybe you should take this nice man’s advice and get the fuck out of here, yeah? Unless you need my help in doing so?” I ask him, my voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to attract even more attention than I already have. Nox is next to me now, both of us making quite the imposing scene.
“You should probably get the fuck outta here, kid.” Nox isn't as intimidating as I am when it comes to looks, but his tall stature and unwavering demeanor makes him just as daunting all on his own.
“I’m thirty years old, you delinquent fuck!” he spits, trying but failing to act tough. I can practically smell the fear seeping out of his pores. I bang his head back against the brick, causing him to wince in pain. This kid needs to learn some respect.
“I don’t care how fucking old you are. You better watch who you’re talking to with that mouth of yours,” I snarl, shoving my face close to his just to further prove my point.
“Now, I’m gonna put you down, and then you’re gonna drag your pathetic little ass to your car and get out of here. Do you understand?”
The scrawny kid whimpers under his breath but nods his head, and I angrily let go of him. The pathetic prick stumbles forward, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away. He doesn’t bother with another smart comment, just scurries off into the night like the vermin he is.