Veni opened the wooden doors and stepped into the art room. This was where he had last sensed his two sons.
Singed craters covered the floors, while blood covered the walls.
Stepping to an ancient Asiatic statue from Zheng-Mei-Ge, he wiped a finger across its face, staring at the blood on his hand. Golden flecks looked like glitter floating in the red liquid.
He walked around one of the pillars, seeing a headless male body lying on the ground. His hands and feet were crudely removed, and all his pockets had been turned out. Despite this deliberate attempt to quickly hide the body's identity, Vici knew who it was.
He crouched down. Red energy bubbled from the pores in his skin, forming rounded cube shapes that floated and popped. He coldly chanted in an ancient tongue under his breath, placing a hand on his boy's chest. The body began to heat up rapidly and then was set ablaze in a light so blinding Veni himself had to close and cover his eyes with his arm. Seconds later, when it was finished, nothing remained but a bloody outline. He got up, leaving the room, continuing on with his mission.
Marcello stood in the middle of the hallway. Blue energy slowly flowed around his body defensively, but a sneer had crossed his face. Mitani was staring at him with wide eyes, eyes that begged him not to escalate the situation. Gemo was looking past them, watching the three ladies disappear down the hall.
"You promise they'll be fine?"
Marcello glanced over at Gemo, surprised that he would say that.
"I ain't gonna hold you, bruh, I get that you don't have a reason to trust me, but I've got no reason to hurt this dude unless he makes me hurt him, a'ight?"
Gemo looked at Marcello expectantly. They all did. What were they waiting on? Oh.
He deactivated his energy apprehensively. "Alright, we're cool."
"Great," Conor flashed his diamond teeth at him.
Mitani and Conor stood in silence as the rickety elevator descended. Conor watched as Mitani slowly took his phone from his pocket.
He looked up at Conor nervously, "Hey- Really random, but can I get a picture?"
Conor blinked, completely caught off-guard by the question—Mitani could have stabbed him in the neck if he felt like it right then. "A picture?"
"Yeah, I don't wanna glaze or anything, but like, I've been listening to KTA for a long time—you especially! I've always wanted to meet you guys, so I'm kinda freaking out, but like for multiple reasons… Like I don't wanna sound like I only like your mainstream stuff, but your newest one is my favorite. I literally show it to everyone I meet. The girl with white hair, Zoe, she said she didn't like it, but later she said some of your other stuff was good. I'm sorry, I'm talking too much, but this is just crazy for me!"
"Okay," Conor chuckled, posing next to him for the picture.
"What the…" Mitani's mouth hung open, staring into the dining room. It was a starch contrast to what he had seen earlier. He recognized one of The Chef's line cooks sprawled on his back in front of him with a familiar hole in his chest.
"Yeah, don't worry 'bout all this," Conor said, snapping a leg off a wooden chair, using it to shove a body from atop the stove. It flopped to the ground with a lifeless splat.
Mitani walked behind the stage to the swinging black kitchen doors. "Hey!" He ducked a cast iron pan that was thrown at his face, almost hitting Conor as he walked in behind him.
"Oh, hell nah!" Conor stomped into the room, seeing the large doe eyes of the Stygian cooking crew flinching. He loomed over them but decided to let the indiscretion go.
They entered the freezer section, walking through the dividing plastic flaps. "Let's see…" Mitani said, walking around, attempting to find some familiar ingredients. As they moved through the room, their breath formed in front of them. Mitani decided on a vegan protein shake, as he wasn't sure how else someone in a coma could ingest food.
Walking back out front, he stepped onto the floor and started for the sink, running water into a pot. "Wait," Mitani looked back off the stage toward the pile of white-clothed bodies. "This is The Chef's people, so…" the realization set in. "Damn…" he mumbled.
Conor glanced at the pile, shrugging.
Mitani's mouth hung open; this was the first time he'd seen such a luxurious sports car up close; it got even better when he realized that he would get to ride shotgun in it.
As Conor approached the driver's side, the undercarriage of the Lamborghini lit up with neon lights. Mitani pulled the handle, and the butterfly doors opened, sliding up. The glow on the wheels twinkled as they peeled away.
The crack of dawn, as the black sky turned a dark purple. Zheanni held the medallion up in the air, admiring it.
Zoe stood behind her, the cold open wind freezing her face.
Zheanni, Kholwa, and Zoe all stood on the massive balcony jutting from Stygian Tower. Though, Zoe was the only one who didn't have her energy activated, as she was nervous of what they would do to her, but the sleet and wind was almost unbearable.
Cutting through the wind, 'Is that a helicopter?' Zoe thought. Soon enough, headlights pierced the purple sky as the vehicle flew toward them quickly, landing in the middle of the long balcony. She felt relieved, watching Kholwa move to slide open its side door, 'They'll fly away, and I can go back!' She felt a hand, push her forward.
"Get in," Zheanni ordered.
"I-" Zoe looked at her, bewildered. Yelling over the blades, "I thought I was free now."
"Nah. See, that ain't gonna happen."
Zoe's skin started to crawl, and she felt a weird but powerful force coming from inside the building—a feeling of subdued rage.
"What the-" Zheanni turned just as Zoe felt the presence. She turned back to Zoe, glaring at her, "See, this is why! I knew one of your friends would try some shit!" She pointed a vindicated finger at her.
Before Zoe had time to protest, that the energy she felt wasn't someone she recognized, she was flung, hard, into the helicopter. Zheanni hopped in, screaming at the driver to "go!"
Zoe looked up, seeing Kholwa sitting on one of the benches, staring down at her. As she attempted to get to her feet, the sudden lurch of the helicopter lifting off, caused her to stumble.
"Sit down," Kholwa said, "It's going to be a while."
"Are we going far?" Zoe scrambled to a bench, clicking a seatbelt across her waist. For a few minutes, no one responded.
"Maybe," Zheanni said.
Then suddenly Zoe felt all her hair stand on end.
Both Kholwa and Zheanni shot to their feet.
Zheanni made a move to look out the window, but there was an excruciating ear-piercing screech as part of the helicopter ripped apart, bucking it to the side, sending Zheanni flying into Zoe.
"Oh please no!" Kholwa screeched, grasping on to a metal railing as the black helicopter began to spin uncontrollably.
Zoe coughed; the wind was knocked out of her. Zheanni's knee had slammed right into her gut. She breathed heavily, forcing her orange aura to surround herself.
Though, feeling an insurmountable amount of dizziness, she held down the barf, and pushed off Zoe, flying toward the helicopter's cockpit. "The fuck are you doing?" She screamed, looking through the dividing window to see that there was no pilot. He had been liquified. What was left of his body was flopping around the small area. 'The sudden speed change probably got 'em.' She punched through the door, ripping it open, clamboring inside.
Zheanni knew she didn't know how to fly. According to Conor, she could barely drive. Though one didn't need to be an expert to know that the blaring alarm, and the flashing lights meant something was catastrauphically wrong. Craning her neck to look into the side mirrors, "Ah, that's an issue."
Zheanni pushed her way back toward Kholwa. "Kholwa! I can't save it! The back propeller…it's gone!"
On the balcony Veni stood, a greenish brown aura surrounded his tall muscular frame.
Behind him, several floors up, Marcello stared out the window, the glowing man below him reflecting off his iris.