Alright, I don't own Leon; he is the character of A Kiss for a Kill, so he's not mine. I was given permission by her to use him!
He's silent as he sits beside her cooling corpse. Across his mouth is a smear of drying red, and on his lap rests a long knife; a leg is pulled up to his bare chest where one arm is supported by his knee. Green-hazel eyes flicker to her body before a frown dips the corners of his mouth; he can hear the baby crying in the other room, and he has the briefest urge to try and wake the mother.
Leon places his knife down on the bed, staining the sheets they had picked out together; he can still remember her mocking the very domestic act while stroking her swollen stomach. Standing from the bed, the murderer stretches languidly, moving toward the connected bathroom.
A young woman is curled up, her pretty brown eyes wide and fearful as he flashes her a charming smile. Leon knows she heard the skirmish between he and Angelica; he knows she heard the strangled gasps coming from the deep cut in her throat while she lay dying on their wedding bed.
Taking out the gun they keep behind the toilet, Leon hums a small tune he heard on the radio. Green-hazel flashes up to the young girl's tear stained face, watching as she bites the gag as he moves closer. "What's wrong?" Leon drags the barrel against her face, lids at half mast in mock comfort. "Do you not like me?"
The young girl was a waitress at their favourite restaurant, and it had been Angelica who had suggested they take her. The girl had complimented them on their baby, saying that the little boy looked just like his father. Leon smirks at the memory, hearing the sharp, far off cries coming from his son in the nursery.
Removing the gag from the girls mouth, Leon shoves the gun through her bruised and cracking lips. Her whimpers sound animalistic, and she begins to thrash about, trying in vain to fight back. Waiting a moment or two to savour the girl's last sounds of life, of pleading, the murderer squeezes the trigger, laughing at the harsh crackof bullet crashing through skull. He licks the barrel, still warm with the small explosion; Leon hums in satisfaction, feeling the arousal warming his veins.
He now regrets killing Angelica.
Turning over on his stomach, Leon presses his face to the cool bathroom tiles. His eyes flutter closed, tuning out the wails of the baby and focusing on the constant thrum of his own heart. He uncurls his fingers from around the pistol, cracking his knuckles and moving to a sitting position. Glancing around the room, Leon sighs to himself, running a hand through his messed brown hair. "What a mess." The murderer stands and walks back into his bedroom, glancing over the various knick-knacks they had collected over the years.
The murderer turns his attention to Angelica's cold body; he runs a hand up her bare thigh, tracing the edge of her black underwear with his fingertips. He smiles, running a finger over the scars left over from their past love-making. Leon thinks that red looks good on her, picking up the knife he had set aside; he begins to cut into her stomach, watching as the shallow cuts become deeper and deeper as his arousal grows. He catches himself leaning down, chuckling lowly while placing a chaste kiss on the edge of her mouth. "Look at me...getting turned on by a fuckin' corpse." With a quick jab, Leon thrusts the knife deep in Angelica's stomach.
The baby still cries in the next room, hiccuping every so often. Leon walks into the nursery, fingers dripping with sticky blood; he leans over the edge of the wooden crib, smiling as his son claps his pudgy hands. Large brown eyes stare up at the murderer as he cradles the tiny child in his blood stained arms.
They sit beside the boy's mother; Leon hums lowly in his throat, the light coming from the bedroom window dimming as the time passes. Eventually his son falls asleep, and Leon glares across the room, waiting...waiting.
When he finally hears the front door opening, Leon remains motionless, gripping the handle of his knife. His vision changes from the dim grey of twilight, to an alarming shade of black; his son is a bright blue, and the figure that moves swiftly through the room is a deep red. A smile curls his mouth as a gun is cocked in his face. "So you bastards finally found me."
"Shut the fuck up."
Leon chuckles lowly, fingers gripping the long knife. "James...you would really shoot me in front of Keegan? That's cold, baby brother."
The gun doesn't waver in the slightest, and Leon stares into James' trained eyes. They're imobile for a moment or two, waiting for the other to strike; James feels his pulse in his fingers, watching for any movement on the older man's part. "I was sent to kill you and Angelica...guess you've already taken care of that for me, huh?"
Leon's eyes flicker to the ruined woman beside him, to the child laying comfortably on his chest. He hums lightly, petting Angelica's brown, bobbed hair. "How's everyone? Anyone miss me?"
"No."
The murderer pouts, "Not even you?"
"Fuck off. You're game of 'House' has ended." With the grace of a snake, Leon swipes the knife across James' arm, earning a hiss of pain. Keegan falls to the wooden floor with a loud, surprised cry. Wails fill the room, but the two men take no notice.
The murderer moves quickly, ducking low as James fires his gun. Bullets rip through the house's thin walls, shattering photo-frames and the vanity's large mirror. Leon thrusts the knife at his brother's legs, laughing joyfully when the tip plunges into the muscle. A loud groan breaks through James' gritted teeth, hopping away from the quickly descending knife. He twists his body around, facing the knife-wielding man, pumping the trigger quickly.
Leon's eyes go wide when bullets burn through his flesh. His hand goes limp, and the knife falls to the wood with a clatter; blood seeps out of the corners of his mouth, and he feels the liquid beginning to fill his lungs. The murderer drops to his knees, looking up at James' shadowed face. The edges of his vision begin to go cloudy, and as his face makes impact with the wooden floor, he's gone deaf.
He wonders if he'll see Angelica in Hell, and all the other people like him. Leon wonders if he'll see dear ol' pop, and his sister. With a grim smile, the murderer slips into death.
Right.
Angelica is sort of Leon's Shaun, Malik and Leonardo...except not...ahaha! I had fun writing this, and would really like if I got some reviews. ALSO! Check out 'SelfContained' for more Leon goodies (A Kiss for a Kill OBVIOUSLY writes him better than I did...because she's his creator!) Anyway, hope you liked it!