Hello! How have you been?
Good? Well, so have I! Guess what yesterday was! Go on, guess!
That's right, it was MY BIRTHDAY!
YAY! SO HAPPY!
But that was yesterday, and now it's today. So let's get on with this story, and thanks to you guys who reviewed and fav/followed. Means a lot!
:) (P.S: Has anyone noticed that I always put a smiley face at the end of my AN? Just wondering...)
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"You hesitated."
There were some people on this Earth who took pride in making others uncomfortable. People who found amusement in making others squirm and sweat under their gaze. People who made you feel so uncomfortable that you wanted to just find something, anything, to look at, but you couldn't, because their eyes literally follow you everywhere. There's no easiness about them, if anything, they were the very creators of uneasiness. People who made sure you understood who was the alpha in the situation, and who was the omega.
Charming was one of those people.
And, as always, he was the alpha, and everyone else in this room was the omega.
Puck sat down on the leather sofa and pulled off his white shirt, the one that was currently splattered with fresh blood, the blood of the girl he, he, had just killed.
The blood of an innocent.
What did that make him now? He had clearly just shot someone in the head, basically sent them six feet under, so what was he now? Was he one of these sick people? One of them? Did that make him any better than Charming, or worse? Was hesitating before you shot someone a good thing, or a bad thing?
He knew what he was, and by the sudden stillness in the atmosphere of the rich hotel suite Charming had just driven them to, everyone else knew what he was too.
He was a murderer.
He had just been an accomplice in the murder of a guiltless girl. A girl who probably had a family waiting for her right now, expecting her to arrive home from school, or wherever she had been walking home from before Charming and his gang had found her and brought her back to where he was waiting for them. Puck hadn't expected them to take so long, but of course they had to do what they had to do first, didn't they? They had to finish her off first, complete the dirty work.
It wasn't his fault. He didn't know they did this for a living. He had waited for them back at the house, expecting them to arrive alone. They had told him that if he was to be accepted in their group, he needed to complete a test. A test, or his life, they had said.
It was obvious which one he had chosen.
And so he had waited. He had thought they would make him shoot one of them with a blank. Maybe he had to endure a tough beating, take some twisted oath to never reveal them to the police or some shit.
He had never expected that.
And now here they were, inside Charming's private hotel, in a luxurious suite, while the poor girl's body was disposed of in some vile manner he didn't dare imagine.
It wouldn't do to dwell on the past. He knew that. Charming's gang required him to be quick, sharp witted. He needed to act, react and think fast if he hoped to stay alive.
Bringing his mind back to the present, he turned his shirt inside out and used it to wipe his sweaty forehead. When he was done, he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together between his legs.
The Sheriff, or Nottingham, was leaning against the wall behind Charming's fancy velvet chair. His curved dagger was in his hand, slipping in and out of his fingers with precision skill. Puck wondered how many throats he had slit with that very knife.
A fair few dozen, he guessed.
The Sheriff was a strange man. Short, long, greasy hair, the fellow was downright nasty. His sneer could curdle milk, and his long coat was no doubt concealing a few packets of something that could have him imprisoned for life if ever he was caught with the stuff.
Sitting in the armchair on Puck's right was another man by the name of Bradley. Charming's right hand man. Tall, handsome, peculiar. Bradley was not someone you wanted to mess with. His brown hair and curled goatee were one of the many things that had lured young woman into his trap.
In the left corner stood Tobias. Apparently, the frail old man had some very good persuasive skills when it came to females. Beneath the fragile, old-timer look, Puck knew that Tobias Clay was a devil in waiting.
All four of these men were currently staring at Puck intently, as if expecting him to give some top-notch speech. He looked around the room, and finally his eyes settled on Charming. The strikingly handsome blonde was leaning back in his red velvet chair, gazing slently at Puck. He was sizing him up, making him feel uncomfortable. Puck knew what he was trying to do, and if he was to survive in this place, then he had to give the man a bit of a challenge, didn't he?
For Mustardseed. And mother.
Puck leaned back on the sofa and grinned at Charming. The man raised an eyebrow in response. Puck, taking this as a gesture to continue, laughed.
"I had to make the fucker a bit uncomfortable, didn't I?"
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