It was at this point, that Coco would admit she had a problem.
Not this second, exactly. First, she glared at the gasping soon-to-be-corpse before her.
She fixed herself to stand up straight, and spat to the side. In most cases, that would've made her feel strong. Masculine. Tough. But this victory was anything but that. It was scrappy, and disgusting. She should be dead.
She continued to glare at the corpse, trying to stare him down as the life faded from his eyes. This shit was his fault; she hadn't asked for much. He wouldn't even grant her that victory. His eyes darted madly around the room, before suddenly fixating on some nondescript point in the ceiling.
He was dead.
A part of her had expected to feel accomplished. She wanted to feel accomplished. This asshole had been a serious thorn in her side for months. Maybe for longer. But that wasn't what she was feeling.
She had been worried when she realized she was probably going to kill him, that guilt would drive her mad afterwards. But she felt no guilt.
As she stared at the pool of blood collecting beneath the cadaver in front of her, the only thing she felt was disgust. This whole scene was just plain gross. The fight she had had before this kill, the kill itself, the way he gurgled and spat before he died, the blood on the ground (and all over the wall behind him), and the stench that begun to permeate the air... All so disgusting...
She walked over to the closet area, to make sure her other victim had also perished. Tossing the murder weapon aside, she picked up the faunus from the wreckage of the door by his shirt, and after deducing that he was in fact, in the next life, tossed his corpse next to the other.
Perhaps she should feel guilty for that one? A poor rabbit, just in the wrong place, at the wrong time... Who then made some really poor decisions. He had probably only helped Deuces because he was hoping for some kind of discount. Maybe a free sample or something. Deuces had never had any kind of body guards before, since he was a big man. At least twice the size of the skinny rabbit faunus who had tried to help execute her when she freaked.
She then turned her attention onto the closet. Pushing away the pieces of broken door, and tearing down that which still hung, it didn't take her long to find what she was looking for: Her signature sunglasses were folded neatly on the top shelf. Coco reached for them, but stopped suddenly.
Her hands had gotten blood on them. Probably from when she picked up the faunus. Looking at the rifle off to the side, which was free of bloodstains, backed up her theory. Still, regardless of how she got blood on her hands, she wasn't about to get blood on her sunglasses. She walked over to the bed nearby, stepping over her rifle, and dried her hands using the sheet.
With clean hands, she walked back over to the closet, set to finally grab back her glasses. They were amazingly expensive Adelâ„¢ brand sunglasses, and they were a gift from her father. Only those in the family wore them. Had they not been the last gift she received from him, she would've let the brute keep them.
As she reached for them, another score caught her eye, under some of the door, on the floor of the closet. Moving some of the splintered wood out of the way with her shoe, she leaned down to see a chest, which, upon opening, revealed to her where Deuces kept his stash. The idiot hadn't even locked it.
And it was then, that she realized she might have a problem.
Had she just fucking murdered two people... And almost died... For drugs?
She looked back to the two corpses. Sure, she had technically come here to get back her glasses... But she had lost her glasses to this dealer, by offering her prized belonging as payment when she was really high and broke. If she hadn't have started down this path in the first place, she wouldn't be a murderer right now. Moreover, if she had had ANY self control, she wouldn't be a murderer right now. But her father was right. Her family was right. Her mother was right.
Coco Adel had a drug problem.
She pulled her hands back and let the chest fall closed, wincing as it slammed shut. She was going to leave that here. The pain of that idea solidified her will to go on with it. She had to learn to say goodbye. After all, you could only murder someone for your glasses so many times before you go to prison. Coco's eyebrows slowly raised as that thought ran through her mind.
Prison.
How could she have been so stupid, she'd barely even thought of that! She quickly got up, and grabbed her glasses, before going back into the main room, where she had left her bag. She carefully put the glasses in their, and then headed back to the bedroom at a quick walk, to assess the situation. A large pool of blood had collected underneath the corpses. She frowned. She had also gotten some blood on the wall, what was left of the closet door, and the sheet, when she had dried her hands.
She hated the machine gun, rifle-things. They were so messy. Still, she had to appreciate their effectiveness. One volley had been enough for the faunus, and one volley had been enough for Deuces, despite his size. There was almost no defense for that series of deadly bullets. Almost.
"Thoughts for later," Coco said to herself, bringing herself back to the matter at hand. After a few seconds of brainstorming she had decided on a course of action. First, she looted the corpses.
A lighter, a pack of smokes, a switchblade, and set of car keys were her spoiler of war. Pocketing her ill gotten goods, she then took off the top two blankets, and laid them down in the main room.
She went back into the bedroom, and went to work lying the two bodies beside each other, and then rolling them up in the sheet she had already bloodstained. The pool that had collected beneath them was a disturbing mixture of dry and still really wet, and the result was her hands and the sheet getting extremely bloody.
She picked up the two corpses in the sheet, and set them in the main room on the blankets she had already laid out, before washing her hands in the kitchen. Gods, she hated this stench.
She went back into the living room, and rolled up the bodies which were rolled up in a sheet, in the two blankets.
She then stood up to admire her handiwork.
It was still hellah obvious that there were bodies in those blankets. Thankfully, Deuces preferred blankets larger than him, so there was nothing sticking out. It was impossible to tell who the bodies were, at least, until the blanket were pulled off. And more importantly, thanks to the bedding, she no longer had to touch the corpses directly.
Eight minutes of dragging corpses through the night later, she shut the corpses in the back of Deuces's van.
She returned to the crime scene to do one of the things she excelled at: cleaning. She hadn't been that good at it at first, but after a year of living on her own, it had come to her. She had discovered her own methods for many things, including blood. Which, made sense, considering she supported herself and payed her rent through illegal underground streetfighting rings.
This was more blood than she had ever had to clean though, and it took her hours. She also decided to scrape up the small pieces of wood, and throw that in the van too.
She had entered the house at 11pm, and she decided it was clean enough to leave at around 3am. She made sure to wipe down everything she touched, and to take the murder weapon with her, before heading out to the car. Settling down, she began to check his car for something, anything. He had been ready to just murder her outright. Meaning he probably had the neighbors paid off, to ignore the sounds of gunfire, and some simple way to dispose of her body ready.
He was an idiot, so it shouldn't be hard to get. She looked around for a number, or a map, with a location highlighted. She found her score in the form of a scroll, in the glove compartment. Deuces had dumbly named one of his contacts "Body Disposal." 'How on earth was he never caught by police?' Thought Coco.
She had to step out of the vehicle before making the call; the stench of the bodies in the back got too strong.
She also took this opportunity to light a fag she had picked off of Deuces. She took a deep inhale, calming herself. She'd have to be pretty fucking charming if she wanted to talk this douchebag into betraying and burning the corpse of his boss. She breathed smoke into the cold night air, as she hit the dial button.
A few rings. More rings.
It was about to go to voicemail, before a tired, smooth, feminine voice answered. "I told you not to call me at this hour. It was enough that you were an idiot, but I'll not work with a disobedient one. Next time I see you, you're dead." She said, in a very controlled and calm tone.
"Huh, you're actually completely correct on that last part. Sorry to wake you so early sweet thing, but I was wondering if we could talk business." Coco said, in just as calm a tone. She took another drag from her cigarette, to give the voice time to react. When the voice decided to react by stunned silence, Coco continued, figuring it would be best to just get to the point. "I get this picture that you don't much like Dunces. Boon for you, because shit happened, and he's dead now. Don't suppose you'd help out in the clean up? I've already done so much of it tonight." Coco finished, before taking another inhale.
The voice on this other end let out an amused chuckle. "Okay, but what's in it for me?" She asked, lazily.
Coco blew smoke into the air, and shrugged, before saying, "I don't know, do you want his stash?"
"That's not what you killed him for? Hmm..." The deceptively peaceful voice paused, before continuing. "Tell you what: Tell me why you killed him, and then meet me at 11pm tomorrow, okay? At the bridge between the commercial district and the residential one? Oh, and bring the stash." The voice said, calmly lined with subtle excitement.
Coco let out another breath of smoke, before replying to the voice. "You're not an easy girl to please then? Okay, fine." She made sure no one was around when she said this next part. "I got in too deep. I owed him money. He was hinting about taking care of me, before he went into conference with some other junkie. I got impatient, broke in there, and managed to kill them both." She lied. She hadn't owed him money, she just came here for the glasses. "See ya tonight. Oh, and before I forget, anything I can call you?"
"Nope." Replied the voice, simply. "That is an amusing story. Just find a place to store the bodies for the day, okay?"
"Uh-huh." Coco said, frowning. "Anything el-" Coco cut herself off when she realized the other girl had hung up. Well, at least she had gotten help.
Coco dropped her cigarette, stomping in out, before starting to climb back into the van. Paranoia forced her to pick up the dead cigarette butt, and toss it in the back with the bodies. It'd be best if there were no sign that Coco had ever been here.
With that, she drove off, looking for a place to stash the car and bodies for a day.
