Disclaimer: Luigi Largo, Pavi Largo, Amber Sweet, GraveRobber, and other characters from Repo! The Genetic Opera belong to Terrance Zdunich and Darren Smith.

Murder Is Crimson

The Plan

The only way to end-a this…is to-a continue our fate and demolish our hate. Remove the violence. Make Father proud. We'll prove him-a wrong. We will be worthy of his genes. We'll bring-a down Sister. We'll gut her to her fucking demise. We're not monsters. We're-a men. No matter how imperfect we may be.

-Excerpt from "Monsters" (Previous Fanfiction)

Anger is what Pavi Largo now feels towards his sister. He's angry at the fact that Father had given her everything. She does not deserve it. He is jealous. It's obvious who Papá preferred more. It will always sting profusely.

Hatred. It's an emotion that has been freshly fueled once more. Luigi Largo despises his sister. More so than his runt of a brother. He hates that she now owns GeneCo. It should not be hers. He's envious. Pop should have left the company to him. It left a bitter mark.

It stung their pride. Neither could admit the mental pain their father had caused to them. His dying words were a glimpse into a harsh reality. The expressions were clear on their faces. It had damaged them. It viciously attacked their psychological well-being. You could say that they had somehow become worse. Not in public, however. They wouldn't want to ruin dear Sister's image. They concealed their sneers. What they did behind doors was beyond the media's firm grasp.

They vowed to make their father proud. One more murder certainly wouldn't harm their reputations. They would be silent about this plan. After all, it was a form of brotherly love, as twisted as it may seem. Sister could easily ruin herself again with a hit of the glow. A romp with the GraveRobber. It would be a mistake on her own watch. Nonetheless, she would never be able to expect this. She should have seen it coming. She should have known her brothers more wisely. They were just 'protecting' her. They simply did not want her to injure herself (or her image) anymore.

Luigi resided in his own confined office. It was small. Very small. That was another stab to his pride. Amber had received her father's office, which was both large and glorious. It should have been his. It infuriated him. His eyes narrowed. His hands balled into fists. He quickly opened a desk drawer, pulling out one of his beloved knives. Thud. The blade collided with wood. His shoulders released but an ounce of tension. Luigi had never been able to control his temper.

Pavi had proved to be a better brother when it came to helping his sister with GeneCo. He was a good sport, pointing out things she failed to see and essentially missed. He provided suggestion while Luigi constantly frowned, silent as he attended to what had to be done. Through all of this, Pavi had enough. He could not continue to live this way. He deserved a good portion of the spotlight. If not all of it! His troublesome younger sister simply was not worthy of it.

Thus, the black haired male came up with a plan that should have been incapable of being with his mind frame. Many underestimated him. Yes, he was vain. Yes, he was dim-witted most of the time. He had the tendency to make many stupid remarks. He wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, after all. Nevertheless, he felt as if he was. The plan that formed in his mind was of sheer genius. A pleased smirk grew on his face as he roamed the various halls.

Designer boots tapped against the floor. Blue eyes shone with a desire for victory. He would not be defeated. This plan was nearly flawless. Except for two points. One being that he needed Luigi's help. Two... they would need someone to frame. His stature rose, mirror clutched in one hand. The arm wrapped across his torso. The other hand knocked upon the eldest's door.

By the delicate knock, Luigi could guess that it was one of two people. Another cold sneer arrived. His knuckles whitened as he shot a glare at the door.

"Who the fuck is it?!"

"It's-a me. May I-a enter, Brother," a voice purred from the other end. Sickly sweet... as soft as silk. It made Luigi want to hurl to express his distaste. Yet, he was glad it was not his sister. His anger would have flared all the more.

Pavi examined his nails, nonchalantly. He silently waited a response before gently tapping his foot onto (t)he polished wood. He could hear the clock tick with anticipation. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

"Fine. Come in," the eldest grumbled with irritation.

The black haired male opened the door with undeniable elegance, waltzing into his brother's confined office. His eyes wandered about the room, making mental notes about its appearance. The place was tidy to his surprise. The clock hands moved to their own pace and time. Silence reigned over the two siblings. Pavi strode with confidence to Luigi's desk.

"Well, what the fuck do you want? Yeah, I know my office is small..." He hated to admit the fact. His pride had been constantly injured ever since Rotti's death. He could thank both Amber and Pop for that much. Pavi, meanwhile, was equally hurt by Pop's dying words, but he had been able to handle it suavely. Luigi sneered as Pavi continued to glance about the room.

"A talk with-a you, Brother...."

"WELL!?" The older brother barked out, fists colliding with the desk.

Pavi blinked, snapping out of his trance. My, my, my... Brother's temper has yet to diminish. A well defined brow arched at Luigi's demand. Slim hands rested upon the desk. Pavi leaned forward. He could see the disgust in his brother's eyes. A smirk grew beneath the false face.

They looked into each other's eyes. Silence resumed its course. What they saw was no true surprise. Hate. Jealousy. Envy. There was even the vague glint of madness. The only things they shared in common was their emotions and their murderous ways. Now was the perfect moment to propose Pavi's plan.

"I-a have a plan." A smirk as well as a statement of the obvious.

Now it was Luigi's turn to speculate. A plan, eh? What kind? Knowing Pavi, it would be something unintelligent. The dimwit was completely self-absorbed with himself. His wits were most often lacking. Whatever Pavi's 'plan' was... it was most likely idiotic.

"Go on," his tone was gruff to conceal his intrigued mind.

"We-a commit murder." The last words was a harsh whisper. Another psychotic smile rose.

This was Luigi's cup of tea. Murder could have been his middle name if he so desperately yearned for it. He could perform the task with skill and glee. Killing soothed his anger. Like fucking music to my ears. Luigi was beginning to like the sounds of this.

"But who dies by this blade?'' A smirk. He withdrew the knife from the table. A shallow cut would remain as evidence. He swirled the knife with his grasp. Finally, holding it properly. It gleamed under the pale lighting fixture. Luigi waved it back and forth in front of his brother. Like a cat, Pavi's eyes fixated upon it.

"Sister," he calmly replied.

The eldest widened his blue orbs, before quickly narrowing them. A plot to kill dearest Sister? It was fantastic. They did share something in common. Hatred towards Amber, The Queen of the Scalpel Sluts. The ultimate Zydrate junkie. In other words, their slutty sister. This was just great. Pavi was covering up those emotions with that creepy smile. Luigi chuckled, bowing his head in a nodding motion.

"This is fucking great." A sudden thought. "How the fuck are we gonna pull this off?"

Pavi leaned forward, whispering the rest of the details. The walls have ears... or so the saying goes. It was better to be hush-hush or their plans would shatter into ruins. They both grinned as they exchanged thoughts and ideas. It would be flawless. Together they would reign.

Except he doesn't know that I'll gut him, too, if he gets in my fucking way.

Except he doesn't know what the Pavi truly wants.

Sooner or later they would both find out the other's thoughts.

"It has to look like suicide."

"Or death-a by a lover's hands, no?"

Luigi rolled his eyes in distaste. Pavi always had to go and do that. He had to add some bullshit romantic component. He probably read way too many fucking romance novels in his lifetime. Then again, when did Pavi ever read? Luigi didn't take time to notice what Pavi did or did not read. He honestly didn't care. The thought was beyond him.

"Yeah? Then, who do you have in mind?"

Now, it was Pavi's turn to roll his eyes. The effeminate rapist paused for a moment before answering. It was a simple solution. GraveRobber. He was the one who had supplied Amber with her forbidden drug.

"That-a... GraveRobber," He folded his hands. Pavi was pleased with his own wits. A content smile grew as his shoulders rose. It made sense. That's the one Sister had run to often. The man who gave her the stupid inconvenience.

"It's gonna be perfect."

Madness glinted in their eyes.

"Bellisimo!"

Death functioned in many peculiar wars. It was beautiful in its own way. Take Blind Mag's as a prime example. She gouged out her own eyes. Oh, how the crimson poured from her sockets! She cried blood. Then, oh so suddenly, her body was impaled by a metal spike. Blood mingled with snow. The false snow resided in her hair was well. It was tragic, yet gorgeous. It was macabre.

Death could became an art. Murder was an art. Murder would became an art for the two on the day they planned to kill their sister. It was simple... Murder is crimson. It's shade is a brilliant red. Red as in love. Red as in blood.

Note: I'd like to thank my dear friend, Chaos (ChaosandMayhem) for being my Beta Reader. She caught on to my mistakes that I had made from being tired and typing far too quickly. Yes, this switches from present and past tense. Apologies upon confusion. I hope you enjoyed this piece. The second chapter shall be delivered soon.