psycho killer, qu'est-ce que c'est,
fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far, better run run run run run run run away.

The soles of his boots clicked against the tiled floor as Red moved, scanning everything that his visor allowed him to see. Below him, he could make out his reflection in the pristine marble tiles and he was so, so tempted to scuff the floor here and there. Kane couldn't do anything about it. To Kane, Red was just an asset on getting Mike Chilton, as Kane was just an asset on getting Mike Chilton to Red. In short, they needed one another but weren't planning on being very loyal in the end and both of them knew it.

Wherever he walked, Kane's men shied away from him. Even a large group of then were too intimidated to confront him. Possibly because there had been instances when some wise guy provoked him and was soon sent to the medical bay, thus getting across the message Red was not a force to be dealt with. He had no qualms in putting people in their place, but he did not kill them... His priority was to kill only Mike, but if anyone got in his way he wouldn't hesitate.

Kane had told him he had a job for Red, before abruptly leaving to his office. Obviously he wanted Red to meet him there. Part of the young man didn't even want to bother with it, but he had to keep up the act of a faithful dog if he ever wanted to reach Mike.

When he neared the sliding doors, his hand ran along the surface of the wall and he narrowed his good eye behind his visor, leaning in close to the door. There were people talking inside. He recognized the deep, grating voice of Kane accompanied by the higher pitched and softer voice of a girl. Occasionally, Kane's sad excuse for a right-hand-man would throw in a nosnensical comment but was ignored.

"I'm not sure if it's a good idea, you know. It'll be one against all the Burners, and you know all the other attempts have failed-"

"-Julie, I have this all planned out. The Burners are trying to recover from the earlier attack and they aren't expecting any others today. Besides, it wouldn't be much of a fight. I'm sure he could get Chilton alone. You're acting like you're worried about him."

Red bit back a snort. He could practically hear the cringe in Julie's voice when she responded to her father's comment, "Just looking out for a fellow worker's wellbeing! Heheh." It was forced and half-hearted. Kane was blind if he couldn't see his own daughter's betrayal. But Red wasn't as much of an idiot as Kane was. He had encountered the Burners enough times by now to have noticed her among them.

He pulled back just in time for the doors to slide open and for the teenage girl to saunter out. Julie froze in front of him and Red stared her down. Though she couldn't see his face, he was sneering behind the helmet. "He's, uh, in there," Julie mumbled. Thank you, captain obvious. Red nodded. As she began to move past him he caught her thin wrist, his grip tight and threatening. It was like he was ready to snap her hand off. The girl jolted and turned her head to look at him, big eyes wide. The assassin leaned in to mutter to her, "Tell your Burners about this and I'll make sure your dad knows your dirty little secret." His tongue dragged over his lips. "And you might not wake up tomorrow morning."

Without waiting for a response, he let her arm go and marched into the room, the doors sliding shut behind him. On one side, Tooley was watching some children's cartoon and laughing at it. Why Kane chose him was beyond Red but he didn't ask. Maybe there was a reason. Shaking his head, he took a look around the room.

It was too white, too clean, too shiny. Almost every wall was covered in windows which gave the dictator a good look across the city. Pods hovered and floated through the air outside, and within their confines were innocent people living out a too-safe life, oblivious to Kane's tyranny. Idiots.

The man was scanning over his domain. Red approached slowly, coming up beside him. Standing right in front of him could have been taken as an aggressive gesture, and he needed Kane comfortable around him. When he spoke, his voice seemed robotic and echoed throughout his helmet, "You want me to go after Mike again. I'm guessing you have a plan."

There was a long silence. Red shifted awkwardly, crossing his arms over his chest and moving his weight from one foot to the other. Then Kane began, "The attack today was just something to give the Burners enough distraction so they wouldn't notice you getting close to their leader." He explained slowly, as if Red was an idiotic child. The assassin frowned behind his helmet. "While everyone else is trying to clean up the mess, you're going to get to Chilton. He's staying in the Skylark Motel, top floor. We've got secret cameras set up there by spies." A pause.

"He's in room 514. You can pick a lock, right?"

Red nodded.

"Good. Getting into the city won't be much of a problem. But don't walk around in that," Kane swiveled a little towards Red to gesture at his suit. "I'm sure you have other clothes that'll help you blend in with the rats down there. When you get to the motel, make your way up to his floor. Change into your suit, then get into his room. But don't kill him. Bring him back here. I want the satisfaction of watching him suffer."

Red's nostrils flared but he grudgingly agreed. Really, he'd rather just kill Mike and get it over with. He didn't want anyone but himself to feel the pleasure of murdering Mike Chilton. "Yes, sir."

Getting into Motor City was easy enough. He looked liked any scraggly refugee. His jeans were a bit big on him, ripped in a few places along the legs, and his wife beater was stained in a few areas and clinging to his body tightly. He had to pocket his eyepatch because he knew the symbol on it would give him away immediately, and he got a few looks for the scars along his eye but he quickly shot them down with a glare of his own.

Running a hand through his bright red hair, he slinked through back alleys and in between buildings. Red had to step over sparking wires and piles of trash. There were tiny puddles of filthy water here and there, mixed with dirt and oil that made it a sickening black color. He knew Motor City like the back of his hand, he could navigate it without any problem.

The motel wasn't all that difficult to find. The sign was gleaming and easy to spot over the rooftops of the other buildings. He shifted his bag over his shoulder. It contained his suit which would help him fight better as well as conceal his identity to Mike. The moment he caught and weakened Mike, a few of Kane's men would show up and assist him in relocating Chilton to Deluxe.

He really hoped Kane would give him the honor of killing Mike. He'd torture him first, make him feel excruciating pain, the same pain Red felt when his family died, when everything good in his life was stolen from him. Then he'd kill him. He'd look him right in the eyes and snap his neck and leave his body, naked and bloody and bruised, in Motor City for the Burners to find.

Red was nearly salivating at the thought, getting some weird kind of erotic pleasure at the thought of Mike dying at his hands, his blood soaking his arms and clothes. He licked his lips, stalking through the streets until he approached the entrance to the motel. He wiped a bit of drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth and stopped himself from panting eagerly, swallowing the lump in his throat and straightening his back.

So no suspicion rose, he merely said to the front desk he was there to visit a friend before he walked to the elevator.

Though it was only five stories up, it seemed to take forever. Red's need to hurt Mike made time move by so slowly. It made him grow more and more impatient with each passing moment. His eyes trained themselves on the red number that slowly changed. Then there was a dinging noise when it hit five and the elevator jerked to a stop, causing Red to lose his balance but only momentarily.

Rolling his shoulders, he stepped out of the elevator and into the empty hallway. Fuck hiding to change. There was no one to see him.

He stripped out of his clothes and pull his suit out of his bag, stepping into it and pulling the zipper up tight. Wiggling his fingers, he stepped into his boots and set his helmet over his head, doing up the latches. Stuffing the casual clothes into his bag, he just left it behind a decorative plant and moved down the hallway. 514, 514-ah, there it was.

There was really no need to pick the lock. He was able to snap the handle clean off, disabling the lock noiselessly so he could push the door open. There was a lump on the bed, the form of Mike curled up with his back to the door, side rising and falling with each breath he took. Red's gaze briefly trailed to the door that let out to the balcony. It would be so easy. He'd just grab Mike and throw him over the edge. But no... that would be no fun. Red wanted to make Mike scream in pain and sob and look at him while he died.

He closed the door though it didn't latch for obvious reasons. Red didn't worry about it.

It was lucky his suit was so light so he didn't make any noise as he moved fast over the floor to the bed. Looming over the bed, he finally knelt down on the edge, his weight causing the mattress to sink a bit. Then his hands flew to Mike's throat and the teenager jolted awake, jerking his head to look up at his assailant, wheezing and trying to breathe despite the hands clutching his throat tight. Red could feel the other's adam's apple move under his thumb.

Behind his helmet, a nearly insane grin was plastered on his face, drool dripping out the corners of his mouth as if he was a rabid animal and his eyes were wild. Finally. "Hello, Mike," he crooned, voice mocking, "I missed you."