Hola everyone and thank you all for the marvelous reviews! I was rather pleased ;)
The answer to the quote? Right! Red Vs Blue. First opening scene of the first episode of the first season.
Simmons: You ever wonder why we're here?
Grif: It's one of life's great mysteries isn't it? Why are we here? I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a God watching everything? You know, with a plan for us and stuff. I don't know, man, but it keeps me up at night.
Simmons:...What?! I mean why are we out here, in this canyon?
Grif:Oh. Uh... yeah.
Simmons:What was all that stuff about God?
Grif:Uh...hm? Nothing.
Simmons:You wanna talk about it?
Grif:No.
I appreciate the love for Scotty Sybele. You may see a peek of him here in this chapter. I am sad to say though, that we must bid our hot Southern mess ado, for we shall be moving Benny along through the story. But don't worry. It won't be long, and we'll be back to reunite with that blonde haired, blue eyed debonaire before you know it ;)
Now, for our Tenth Chapter anniversary, I suggest, a bit of a flashback, to Bangkok, and Benny's need to find a place away from 'the shit'. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride as we meet Doug and catch a glimpse of Brittany and Terri.
I do not own Far Cry 3 (dammit) or Vaas (dammit) but I do own everyone else you see including Benny, Scotty, Mango, and everyone else ;)
Um...observation. I see many pics of Vaas on deviant art...but none of him in Rakyat style. Come on peeps, he was a Rakyat, lets see this shmexy man in some native get up with some knives and war paint. Mohawk and scar optional...Come on, it'd be freakin' awesome! Do it! Do it!
Warning: Mature content as per usual. No sex, but plenty of mentioning.
Note: I have actually taken the time to create character bios...yay! Up in my profile if you want a better look at my main characters here. I am also very...very...VERY tempted to write some one-shottish thing of Vaas...years ago...actually I could literally write a whole multi-chapter story on his past, (it's all up here in my head, the whos and whys and hows) but come on, we're not even close to half way done with this one...still tempted...anyways...please, read on.
XXX
Strange Waters
Chapter 10
People Like to Sing
XXX
"She's losing blood!"
"You fucking think!"
"How bad is it?"
"I need more gauze. And go get me the fucking glue!"
"The fuck is your sister thinking?"
"The fuck should I know, hah!"
"Oh I don't know, cuz you're fucking related!"
"If you wanna go Scotty, just fucking say it. Let's go hermano."
"Vaas knock it off and go sit down, you're lucky you're still fucking conscious."
"Carlos I got the glue."
"That's rubber cement, you idiot!The fucking medical glue, it's in the bag!"
"Is she gonna be okay?"
"Why did you even come looking for us, hah?"
"I wasn't looking for you!"
"Oh, you're breaking my fucking heart."
"Vaas, incerio, go fucking sit down!"
"Don't fucking push me!"
"Get the fuck out of the way then, you're in my fucking light!"
"So!"
"So you want me to fix her up or what?"
Benny's mind flooded in and out of consciousness. She didn't think a cut on the head could be this traumatic, but it was. It must have been deep; the blood was everywhere. And it must have been long; she couldn't remember how long. All she could remember was that Citra, Citra that fucking bitch of a sister of Vaas', her dragging Benny's own knife along her scalp, driving that blade deep through her flesh and pulling, cutting through the skin like it was paper. And then, just as it reached her eyebrow, it swiped harshly over her eye and down her cheek, and everything after that was black and red. There was a flow of blood leaking from her abdomen, and a river of the stuff cascading down her face. Blurred images of familiar figures danced around in her vision, flitting here and there in a haze of red and black and yellow. Familiar voices, harsh, warm, soft, serious, curious, invaded her hearing, and every footstep in the ground or finger scrape on the table tormented her eardrums and only added to her excruciating headache. She wished everything would just stop. Just fucking stop! The colors, the sounds, the voices, everything. Just let her fucking fall into blackness, away from this shit, away from all the shit.
That's why you came here in the first place...
…...
One month earlier...
Benny wandered around the crowded streets of the obviously overpopulated city, brushing past people and animals and structures in her attempt to find some bearings. The slip of paper in her hands did close to nothing to help in her search. Finding a hotel wasn't hard, but finding one person in a city of...fuck, millions, was fucking impossible. People were boxed in in every angle, even those on bikes and in cars were finding it hard to get through the mass of pulsing maggots that called themselves a society. Benny was surprised nobody was sticking together with sweat from the humid air, said air becoming even stickier from the warm bodies mulling around outside. The brunette cursed herself for not asking for a better interpreter.
That fucker could barely speak English himself. How in Sam's Hill am I supposed to figure this shit out? The brunette held up the sheet of paper, stopping in her tracks and turning it this way and that, squinting her eyes at the poorly drawn map, then glancing over the streets again. This is fucking pointless! Benny threw her arms in the air and brought her hands down to run through the thick brown locks atop her head. The humidity was cruel to her hair. Bad enough it was a thick mop of slight waves, but now it was a thick mop of frizz, and Benny inwardly cursed to herself for not bringing or acquiring any kind of frizz control hair product since arriving to this shit poor country.
Sighing, she continued her trek through the mass of bodies, suddenly feeling sympathy for Jews in the Holocaust. This musta been what it felt like in those train cars, she wondered to herself, feet shuffling along the cracked concrete as she fought her way through the crowd. She felt she had walked for miles, but was sure with the crowds, it was only a few blocks, but still, her body was starting to protest. It was hungry and thirsty and sweaty and tired. "I needs me some food stuffs," she muttered aloud, running her fingers through her frizzed up hair again. "And a pony tail..."
A small sensation traveled through the air and into her nostrils and Benny breathed it in. That was definitely food. Most definitely. Benny pocketed the poorly translated note into her jeans and followed that electrifying scent. She hadn't eaten anything since arriving to the city, and she was craving sustenance. That marvelous scent dragged her body over to a small stand with many an assortment of fruit and meats, said meats being of unknown origin and kabobbed onto sticks. "Dude, um, excuse me...sir?" She waved a hand at the stand's attendant and he looked at her with big eyes and a toothless grin. He started to shower her with what she believed to be compliments or some such thing, for he motioning to her hair and eyes and giving her quite the, shall we say, lusty look. "Um dude...um..." Benny bit her lip and stuck a finger through the brass knuckles hanging around her neck, pulling on them slightly. "Me no speaky...freaky deaky Asian...um, Thai." She winced at her horrible lack of comprehension, but proceeded to point to some kind of meat strewn about the stand. Careful, dude, might be rat.
Who cares, man, I'm freakin' hungry!
What if it's dog?
I won't tell if you won't.
The man seemed even more delighted to do business and it took the brunette a while to figure out just how much it was she was supposed to pay, but after all that, she was back to square one, this time with some 'rat on a stick' she called it. It actually wasn't bad; tasted like chicken.
Once again she found herself wandering the streets, picking off the last strings of meet with her front teeth and eying the directions again. The sun was quickly setting and Benny wasn't overly fond of being caught out at night in a strange place. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, she just didn't feel like having to make an effort if she could avoid it. She was rather lazy.
An hour passed and she crashed on a bench, sighing into her hands and shaking her head. "Why do I even bother? I mean," she scoffed to herself and didn't bother to care if people found her peculiar for talking to herself. "Where the hell is there a fucking place where they won't find me, hah? Like, honestly, and how is some coked up DJ supposed to be able to help?" Another scoff. "Fuck me." And she sighed once again into her hands and thought it best to get her ass back to the hotel, provided she could find it again. The crowds had dissipated some, but not all, and Benny stayed where she sat, looking over the piece of paper once again, and sighing, once again.
"A little lost there, my friend?"
Benny's head snapped up and she quickly whirled around to face the man behind that voice. Why hello there, cutie. And he was cute, with short brown hair and light brown eyes. His smile was somewhat dazzling and shown off straight white teeth. She noted the accessories around his neck and wrists as he lent against the back of the bench, laying a cheek casually into one hand. She sighed, relieved that he wasn't some blood thirsty brute with an agenda to go on a murder spree. "Thank God, a white person," she breathed out with a relieved grin.
"Why yes I am," the cute stranger said with a wide grin. He couldn't have been very old. Early twenties for sure. Maybe slightly older. He chuckled in his hand before laying it casually next to the other. "Any way I can be of assistance?"
Benny smirked and held out the piece of paper, wondering, what are the odds huh? Meeting up with a fellow English speaking white person in the middle of Asia? Sweet fucking odds.
Don't get cocky, Benny, you don't know this guy.
What's to know? He's cute and offering assistance. Good enough for me.
Yeah until he drags you into a dark alley and guts you open and fucks your inanimate corpse.
"Uh..."he scratched the top of his head, furrowing his brows together at the directions on the paper.
"You can't read it either huh? Figures." She shook her head and whirred her lips, sitting back on the bench. The boy's close proximity was rather alluring, as was his cologne. "Fuckin' guy couldn't interpret shit."
"What exactly is it you're supposed to be looking for?"
"Some club. But I can't find the fucker to save my life. I'm horrible at directions, swear to God."
"You remember the name of the place?"
Benny shook her head and bit her lip. "Think it translates to Far somethin' or other. I don't know dude. My Thai-wanese is freakin' atrocious."
The brown haired man chuckled at her lingo, then smiled, crunching the piece of paper with her directions in his fist and throwing it to the ground. Benny's eyes widened at his actions. Dicks! "Pretty sure I know what club you're talkin' about," he said pleasantly as he rounded the bench. "I'm kinda a regular around here."
"What do you live here?" Benny's anger was slightly rising. This boy better have a plan after throwing away her directions, not that they were much help, but still.
He offered a toothy grin and nodded. "Past two years," he said with a wink, crossing his arms over his chest. "Think I might be able to help you."
Benny scanned over this stranger, roaming her eyes over his clothing and physique. He wasn't necessarily built heavy with muscle. If anything he had more of a swimmer's build, with thin limbs and a skinny waist. His attire wasn't anything extravagant either. Simple red tank with khaki cargo shorts and Pumas, a couple of rubber bracelets and a rather blatant shell necklace. It's official. He's a douche bag. Hands down. Complete doucher. Just my luck. "Two years huh? Wow dude, do I feel for you," she said with a smirk, shaking her head and gazing back to the crowded street.
He shrugged his shoulders and offered another smile. "It's not that bad once you get used to it. Better than back home I think."
"What, did your parents kick you out? A little too rebellious?" Benny said, kicking her balled up directions with the toe of her shoe.
"That's exactly what happened," he responded with a laugh and rolled his head around his shoulders. "So...could I offer my assistance?"
"Well, I don't wanna take up time out of your busy schedule," Benny said, only slightly sarcastic.
If the man noticed, he didn't bothered and only continued to smile, laying his hands down at his waist. "Don't worry about it. I help tourists out all the time. It's no trouble at all." He held his hand out to her, but the woman only stared, not all entirely sure that trusting a complete strange white man in this city was a good idea. But, she sighed and took his hand after a moment's hesitation. Benny took risks, sometimes without even knowing it, and sometimes knowing all too well what the dangers could be. But how dangerous could this scrawny white boy be anyways?
"Well thanks, dude. I appreciate it," she said after rising to her feet, noticing the only slight rough feel of his hand on hers. "This city's a fuckin' maze, man. I don't know if I can even find my way back to the hotel to change..."
"Hey, don't worry, girl. I got you. You're not the first damsel in distress I've had to swing in to rescue, ya know? Hehe, know this city like the back of my hand." As if on cue a bicyclist came zooming by, knocking her 'rescuer' flat on his ass, the first thing Benny seeing were his feet flying through the air. The bicyclist was okay though, as if him continuing on his journey without even a glance back was any indication.
"My hero," Benny said with a snicker and stared down at the man, rubbing a sore elbow and hissing at the pain. Benny hoped he wouldn't do the whole 'hiss, ah, hiss, ah, hiss, ah' thing...at least not for an extended period of time. "Do you know any less busier streets?" she asked, still trying to hold in her bouts of laughter.
The man hissed again, rubbing his now rubbed-raw-on-cement-elbow. "Yeah," he said, rising to his feet and shouting out rather obscene obscenities, no doubt directed at the irresponsible bicyclist. After a few minutes of cursing and rubbing his elbow he finally regained his composure and gave a faint smile and nodded his head for the direction for her to follow him, and she giggled. "Just follow me, and you'll be fine. We'll be there in no time." With that, he began to lead the woman along the street, holding his throbbing elbow and once in a while checking to see if it was bleeding. "So what's your name?" he asked, chancing a glance her way as they walked.
"Benny," she told him, biting on a fingernail and spitting it out, a rather lady like thing to do, yes?
"Really?" He rose his brows at the answer and curled a lip in an off grin. "Is that short for something?"
"Benjamin," Benny said with a shrug, still picking at her fingernails with her teeth.
"Um...no offense, but that's a guys name," he said, flicking a wrist at the mentioning.
"Yup." Benny started to wonder if her 'hero' was going to begin to be one of those annoying tag-a-long partners that never shut up. That was her job, dammit.
"So...is it your real name?"
"Nope."
"Well," he decided to end that little interrogation, and Benny was thankful at least. "My name is Doug."
Benny snickered and skipped along side the man, placing her hands behind her back. "Like Doug Funny?" she said with a musing grin.
"Who?"
Benny stopped in her tracks and stared at the younger man before her, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "Oh. My. Gawd! You don't know who Doug is?" The thought that a white man from the states in his early twenties not knowing what Doug was seemed to Benny...illogical! Doug just shrugged his shoulders, placing his hands in his pockets and looking on expectantly. "Jesus Christ, it was like, one of Nickelodeon's greatest shows back in the 90's. Doug and his friend Skeeter Valentine...he was blue! And Patty Mayonnaise, and Roger Klotz and...They even came out with a series of them in high school and a movie! Dude, how deprived were you as a child?"
Doug just chuckled and shrugged a shoulder. "Pretty deprived I guess. Shall we?" he nodded his head once again for the woman to follow. Benny was still absolutely flabbergasted that this man didn't know who Doug was. It couldn't be possible. He musta lived under a rock his whole life.
Good thing he's cute hah?
He's also a great representation of a complete douche.
Now don't judge him just cuz he's wearing Pumas.
…...
I'm never drinking again.
Well that night was certainly eventful, if her horrific hangover and sore limbs weren't any indication. She hadn't remembered exactly how much she had drank, but she knew that a healthy amount of rum was certainly mixed in there somewhere with the Asian cocktails and shots. Her eyes glazed over in a haze from the flashing lights and thick smoke from cigarettes and marijuana the previous night, her muscles were tight and straining and there was a dull throb in her head. "I'm never drinking again," she said aloud, rubbing her eyes and smearing her makeup. She looked tiredly at the palm of her hand, the pink eyeshadow and black eyeliner making a colorful smudge on the skin and she sighed, grabbing a handful of dark locks in her fingers and pulling them over her face. She was glad the blinds were down. No doubt it was well into the day already and the sun was most likely high and shining. She hated waking up to the sun.
There was a murmur behind her and Benny had to close her eyes and focus in on the sound to try to alight her memories. A thin arm wrapped around her waist and the heat of its body engulfed Benny in a rather suffocating embrace. Though the two lay beneath a thin sheet, it was still too hot, and she could feel the sweat of his bare chest mingle with the sweat on her back. She sniffed and groaned and pulled on her hair. The room reeked of sex and smoke and alcohol...but mostly sex, and she shifted in the bed, rolling over to her back and blowing a breath to the ceiling. "Fuck me," she grumbled, once again rubbing and smearing day old makeup. Her mouth was dry and she felt badly dehydrated. She had definitely had too much to drink and far too much to smoke.
"Again?" the voice next to her said lazily, and she felt his face against her shoulder, a kiss planting itself on her skin. "Well if you insist..." his body rubbed against hers, and Benny groaned when she felt his hand rise up on her body and start to rub and knead at her breasts.
Whirring her lips, she removed his hand by the wrist. "Ugh, it's you. And here I thought I'd brought home Brad Pitt," she said with a not so zealous emotion. She was far too tired and hungover to prove that her words were jokes or sarcasm, but the guy seemed to understand.
"Damn girl, I don't know whether to feel insulted or complimented," he said, following this up with a chuckle and he brought his hand back up to her chest. Benny groaned again and pushed him away, her hand on his face, and he only giggled after seeing a tiny smirk pull at the woman's lips. He lay a leg over her own and clasped onto her like a hair clip. It was...kind of annoying.
"Ick, your breath smells like va-jay-jay," she stated with a curl of her lips, closing her tired, dry eyes.
"Yeah well your's smells like cock so ya know what?" he countered with a smirk and nipped at her cheek. Good God he was needy.
Benny grumbled under her breath, rubbing again at her eyes, sure she had smeared off near all the makeup onto her hands. Her mind wandered over the events of the previous night, of the drinking and the dancing and the drinking...and the drinking. It felt good to dress up sometimes in a pair of nice jeans and stilettos, but her feet were paying the price this morning, and she regretted wearing the stilettos instead of her wedged heels. Countless hours of dancing had taken their toll, and countless shots and mixed drinks had taken their own toll as well. But, Doug was a persistent one and just kept offering out the drinks and dances like they were going out of style.
Originally, Benny hadn't thought to bring the younger man home, er, to her hotel room, but sudden realization concerning the information from a particular lead that directed her to this city convinced her that in order to get what she wanted, she needed to get this boy alone. It unfortunately took all night to do so, and lots of alcohol, marijuana, and more alcohol, and of course acting like a complete ditz. Arriving at the club, whose patrons seemed to be on a first name basis with the doucher, he informed her that he was a usual DJ here, his stage name being Raiden. Well, a few Mortal Kombat jokes later Benny found herself under the influence of a few house specials, one of them tasting remarkably like Froot Loops. (She made a point to order many of those drinks throughout the night). Doug seemed to lose interest in the eccentric American though when a young couple looking like Real World rejects caught his eye, and Benny's, though her eyes were more patronizing and sarcastic than his own. That's when she realized Doug was the particular DJ she was informed to find.
Benny wasn't a complete idiot. She knew a con when she saw one, and Doug was pulling that couple in like a used car salesman pulls you into buying a complete hunk of scrap metal. He rambled on about an island where you could 'do anything', free from the every day norm and expectations of society. Basically, you could set fire to someone's house and the cops wouldn't come, maybe a mob of angry town folk, but the land was lawless. This fact he didn't speak much of though. He kept telling them about the fun adventures that awaited them there, like swimming with sea turtles, exploring old ruins and majestic caves, capturing photos or videos of some of the worlds rarest animals like the Golden Tiger or the Galapagos Tortoise or Cassowaries...whatever those were, Benny thought.
All these magical mystical wonderful things seemed to capture the attention of the girl in his audience. She was some misinterpretation of Snooki to say the least, with a head full of thick black waves, thick dark makeup, and large breasts that Benny didn't doubt were implants. The girl seemed on the ditzy side, claiming every once in a while that the song playing was 'all about her' and that 'oh she was so drunk' and the constant 'babe, we should totally go there!' after everything that the DJ had told them. And that wasn't the half of it.
Doug went on to explain the rest of the island's thrills. Cliff diving, sky diving, jet skiing, hang gliding, dune buggies, four wheelers, shooting ranges, hunting, drugs and alcohol for low prices; all these things seemed to interest the man of Doug's two person audience. He responded with 'wows' and 'cools' and 'holy shits', smile widening over a broad face. Benny was tempted to vomit when the girl started to run her fingers through the short yet styled blonde spikes of her boyfriend, but she held it all in, even when the girl started giggling and rambling on about how wonderful their trip would be if they went to that island, and she asked their sly salesman how one could get to such a wondrous place.
"Lotta people like to do a blind sky dive," he said, toothy grin that betrayed the cunning in his eyes.
"That'd be awesome," exclaimed the blonde boyfriend, bright blue eyes alight with excitement. Benny's only thought on skydiving was this: oh hells to the fucking NO!
"But babe you know how I feel about heights. That's way too dangerous. I'd have a freaking heart attack!" The girlfriend pushed to persuade the boyfriend otherwise, her lower lip pouting out dramatically, and her dark chocolate eyes looked through false eyelashes up to her significant other.
"Um...is there another way to get there?" he asked, biting his lip when his girlfriend tugged on his shirt sleeve.
Doug shrugged and offered a friendly smile. "I can have a boat ready for you day after tomorrow," he said, eyes glinting in the pulsing room. "If you don't mind waiting, that is."
The couple seemed over eager to add a new adventure to their vacation and practically bounced with giddiness the rest of the night. Benny rolled her eyes and gulped down every drink that came her way.
Into the night she started to feel daring, and had on occasion, slipped an arm around her DJ friend's neck, whisper in his ear incoherent promises, and flash him a wide, happy, and flirtatious smile. Benny stumbled on purpose, waved her head on purpose, and slurred her speech on purpose. She giggled like a school girl and ground against the other man's hips as hard as she could force herself to after he had led her down the stairs to the dance floor.
Smoke from cigarettes and joints filled the air and a fog machine covered the beer and booze splattered floor in a milky mist, hiding the feet of its patrons as they bounced and bobbed and shook and jumped around the room, singing and hollering and whooping loudly. Benny's words and Doug's shouts were lost in the pulsations and heavy bass and eventually, they simply took to using body language to express their thoughts and feelings. Grinding against each other like a couple of dogs in heat certainly voiced a very prominent thought between the two.
Benny rubbed her eyes again and rose from the bed, letting the overused sheet fall off her body as she trudged to the other side of the room, picking up her pack of cigarettes and an unopened beer, and then trudged back to the bed. She groaned and grumbled though when she realized she had to leave the bed once again in search for a lighter, and upon finding one made her way back once again, to the bed, and tripped over a misplaced stiletto. "That's a shoe," she muttered, hobbling to the bed and falling atop it, giving out a sigh of relief. "Well that was quite the adventure around the room," she said with a short snicker, then proceeded to open the beer and light up the cigarette, taking a quick drag, her drying mouth and lungs begging her to stop until it was satiated just the slightest by the warm beer traveling down her esophagus.
Doug laughed at her humor and lay his hands behind his head, watching the older woman smoke and drink in a seated position above him, her pale skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. He let his hungry eyes travel over the brown bed headed hair, smeared makeup that now gave her eyes a mask of black with a streak of pink. The sight made the dark green of her eyes stand out as they stared tiredly at the opposite wall of the bed. As she sipped the beer, she pulled the bottle away too early and a thick amount of the yellow liquid made a river down her chin and neck, between her breasts and down to lay at the scar on her stomach. Usually, Doug's eyes would have stopped at a womans tits, but with a large scar like that just mere inches away, he couldn't help the furrow of his eyebrows and the frown on his lips.
"That's a, uh, pretty nasty scar." He tried to be as casual as possible about the subject. Most women didn't like to talk about scars and sometimes either grew rabidly defensive about them, or broke down in tears. "Get it in the army?" he asked innocently, seeming to remember snippets of conversation including Benny's employments throughout her life.
"After," Benny answered, blowing out a large puff of smoke, watching it billow through the air. She hadn't bothered to wipe away the alcohol dripping down the center of her body. It seemed almost cooling in the humid room and she sighed in comfort. "So," she started, pleasant smile gracing her features as she brought green eyes to brown and Doug looked up curiously. "About this island..."
Doug managed a chuckle and crossed his legs under the sheet. "It's paradise, girl. Absolute paradise. You can do whatever you wanna do, go wherever you wanna go..."
"What else is on the island?" Benny said, tone serious though she smirked down at the man.
Doug furrowed his brow once again. "What do you mean? Animals...caves...ruins, all the stuff I mentioned last night-"
"What else is on the island, Doug?" Benny repeated, more demanding this time as she swigged from the bottle and dragged from the cigarette.
"Uh...I don't think I understand what you're-"
"Come on, Dougy, I can spot a sales pitch a mile away," she said with a scoff and flicked her hair from her eyes, the green suddenly gleaming with a predatory gaze, and Doug swallowed. "Now you can either tell the truth, or...it's gonna get real messy real fast." She ended this explanation by dragging from her cigarette once again before plopping it into the now half empty bottle. She then proceeded to set the bottle on the floor, reaching under the bed as Doug eyed her warily.
"Um...I'm not sure if I'm getting this Benny...are you—knife!" He cringed and cowered as the woman pounced on him, straddling his body and pressing a rather sharp blade against the skin of his neck. Well, this had certainly escalated quickly.
Benny chuckled above Doug, green eyes taking on a very humorous yet murderous gaze as she shoved the knife further against his flesh. "Oh snap! Oh snap! Oh shit, fuck! Fuck! What do you want! What do you want...you-you-y-you want money? Money? I-I-I can get you money...drugs? I c-c-can get you drugs, just, please, oh fuck Christ, don't fucking kill me. Please."
Doug's babbles and pleas and his cowardice were quickly annoying the brunette, and her humor quickly turned to agitation. "Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" she screamed down to him, hand clamping down violently over his mouth as her other threatened to plunge the large bowie through his jugular. Doug panicked behind the hand on his mouth, breathing growing more rapid the longer that woman glared down at him, the black smudges around those threatening green eyes pushing him to believe she was indeed some kind of demon come to extract his soul for all his sins. Oh fuck, this was not good at fucking all. "Just shut the fuck up," Benny growled, teeth bared at the scared man.
"Now, a little birdie told me, that you could show me a place, completely off the map," she dragged the knife slowly across his jugular, and he whimpered behind her hand. "I got a lot..." she chuckled at this, "of heat on my ass. Mainly a few old grudges, and well...lets just say this little birdie told me about a place where people go to...disappear." She rose her eyebrows at the man and gave a small smile. "That's what you're supposed to do Dougy. Help me..."she traced the lines of his neck with the tip... "disappear."
Doug froze in place, eyes squeezing shut every time his pulse hit that sharp end of a blade and he breathed heavily through his nose, his heart threatening to pump clear out of his chest. Any other time he had gone home with a woman, or brought them back to his own apartment, they never threatened his life the morning after, let alone with a very big knife. And he certainly never took this woman for a deranged killer. Honestly, when she started to interrogate him about the occupants of the Rook Islands, his first instinct was 'oh shit I hope she's not a cop. Okay, just play it cool'. Instead...she turned into some psychotic bitch.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Benny managed with an abrupt change of emotion, grinning as friendly as she possibly could and letting a little chuckle out. "Its just...you keep lying, and lying, and lying, even after you've been had, found out. I mean, when someone catches you trying to sell them something with complete false advertisement, you don't just keep trying to sell it off man." Benny bit her lip and shook her head in a disappointed manner. "You give in...and you tell the fucking truth." There was a pleasantness to her voice, but Doug could sense the malice behind, and he kept his eyes tightly shut.
Benny noticed the fear building up in the now trembling man, and she decided that maybe it was best to do this with a bit more of a...womanly approach. Readjusting herself on the man's abdomen—she had to pull some sheets aside—she lowered herself down his legs, dragging the tip of her knife down his neck, relishing every tremor and shiver she sent through his body as she glided the knife further down his chest, down his stomach, and down, down, down, and he gasped when the cool metal itched at the soft flesh between his legs. 'Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck'.
Benny giggled as she wrapped a hand around the base of his dick, her knife following quickly after, and she held it in place, smiling up at the panicking DJ as he whimpered, digging his fingers into the sheet and his breathing hitched every time she pushed the blade against his skin. "Now," she said, biting her lip playfully and once again flipping her hair away from her eyes. "This is how it's gonna work, okie dokie Dougy? I'm gonna count to, hm, four, just to be different, and you're gonna tell me what else is on that island that I should be aware of. And if you fail to do so..." she squeezed tightly and allowed the knife to grace his dick with a shallow wound with which he gasped and pleaded once again. "Little Dougy here is going to go bye-bye."
Doug didn't know what the fuck to do. Well he obviously had to tell her something or she'd chop his fucking dick off because she was a psychotic bitch like that apparently. But if she was some kind of law enforcement...Vaas would have his fucking ass. "One..." Fuck what if she was some kind of mercenary sent to kill off Vaas... "Two..." or Hoyt. "Three..." the pressure on his dick was becoming unbearable and he squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing the large lump forming in his throat. Good God he hoped this wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.
….
Vaas was heavily tempted to bite the fingers of the man invading his mouth. Carlos had arrived in record time, so Benny's wounds were tended to with great effort, and she was bandaged, drugged, and ready to go in the jeep. Carlos had insisted on checking over Vaas' wounds, but the man allowed nothing more but opening his mouth when the other pirate mentioned 'infection in the mouth might be a great way to go' and so here he was, dejected to allow some other man's fingers pull at his jaw and their face moving to a few inches from his own. Really, it all felt just gay.
"I still can't wrap my head around it," Carlos said curiously, dark eyes examining the bleeding hole in his leader's mouth. "Why would they take the others to the temple..." he pulled more on Vaas' lower jaw, emitting an annoyed grunt from the other Hispanic. "When all Citra wants...is you?" He removed his fingers off of Vaas' teeth, allowing the man to close his mouth finally, rolling his jaw this way and that before grimacing at the still ever present pain in his gums. "Bite down," Carlos ordered, sticking a gob of cloth into the other's mouth. Vaas glowered at him and grumbled, but did as he was told, letting the blood soak the fabric the harder he bit down on it.
"Tastes like fucking peroxide," he grumbled, glaring at his cohort with agitation. It hurt to fucking talk, it hurt to fucking walk, and it hurt to even fucking breathe. Those warriors made sure to get their hits in before Citra could have her way with him, that was for damn sure, and he cursed himself internally for letting himself get captured like that. It was fucking ridiculous. If it hadn't have been for that stupid fucking crocodile he'd have been more prepared, but no, that stupid reptile had to come along and push his buttons and by the time he had crawled back onto land, he was worn out enough to not see the group of natives surround him with guns. Fucking ridiculous.
Carlos ignored the other man's complaints as he dipped another cloth into a bowl of alcohol, squeezing it out and shoving it into Vaas' face, elicting a few more scornful grunts and curses. Vaas pulled the rag furiously from his face, the alcohol stinging his cuts and he scowled at Carlos, the latter simply leaning back in his chair across from the pirate lord, crossing his arms over his chest and pursing his lips. He nodded his head at Vaas and he rolled his eyes as he started to wipe at his face, clearing away the blood and dirt and once again stinging the cuts, sending a rack of pain throughout his face. He hissed, but didn't do anything else as he pulled the rag away and threw it to the ground, spitting out the cloth in his mouth to follow it. Carlos simply looked on, dark eyes scanning over the battered face of his leader and friend in a curious manner. He wasn't necessarily looking over the wounds, more he was looking for some kind of answer; an answer for the events that had occurred today, and only Vaas could provide it.
"What?" Vaas spat, eyes glaring with both an anger and annoyance.
Carlos shook his head and looked towards the window, arms still crossed. "Nada," he mumbled, then brought his eyes back to Vaas, his leader running his hands over the shaven sides of his head, finger tips brushing against the Mohawk, said Mohawk askew and messy due to the day's activities. Vaas was pissed, if that wasn't apparent already, and it was all for his sister. That bitch, Carlos thought, will she ever stop? For some reason, the woman was convinced that she could somehow bring her lost sibling back into his old world, back into the tribe, if only for one particular reason. "I just don't understand why she kept Benny alive as long as she did," he said, shaking his head. Vaas brought his eyes up to glare. Carlos was about to tread into dangerous waters. "I mean, if I recall, way, the last time I was brought there, it was so your father could kill me."
"Then it's a good thing he's dead, isn't it?" Vaas' voice bore nothing but an old vendetta, and a hatred he had acquired for his former people over the years. The pirate lord said nothing else as he sat across from the other man, elbows leaning on his knees, shoulders tensed, and eyes filled with a heavy malice.
The darker man shook his head again and blew a breath through his hands before letting them fall to his lap. Really, he should have been bringing Benny back to the compound as Vaas had instructed right now, but events pertaining to Citra only reared a multitude of questions in his head, and he suddenly felt the scar on his cheek itch. "You want to know what I think?" he asked, eyes glancing over the tense body ready to strike. Vaas only answered with the same stare. "I think it may have something to do with her remarkable resemblance t-"
Before Carlos could even continue the sentence, Vaas had struck. He bolted from his seat on the bed, grabbed Carlos by the collar of his shirt and pinned him under himself on the table, teeth bared and eyes overtaken with a sudden murderous threat as he pushed his forearm into his friend's neck. Carlos stayed still while Vaas glared down at him. "You are not here to fucking think!" he shouted to the man below him, pressing his forearm harder against Carlos' throat. Carlos still remained still. "Okay! You are here to fucking do! And do what I fucking say! And I say you are to take the girl back to the compound and fucking keep her there, until I get back. Do you fucking understand, way? Hah? Do you fucking get it!" Carlos didn't answer, and Vaas pushed harder. "Do you fucking get it!"
"Alright Vaas!" he said finally, grabbing at the man's shoulder in an attempt to push him off. "Alright. I fucking get it, okay?"
"You bring up one more fucking thing," Vaas continued, dark eyes boring into Carlos' as he continued to push down on his body with his own. "One more...and I will fucking kill you." He ended the threat by pulling Carlos from the table and pushing him to the other side of the room, anger shaking through his body and he refused to let his body crash. He was sore and worn and his body was desperate to lay down and relax itself, but Vaas had other priorities. The native warriors had pulled at his last nerve and he was intent on showing them just how much of a force he was to be reckoned with. "Now let's fucking go," he ordered, nodding his head to the door before heading out of it himself.
Carlos sighed, rubbing at his neck and following Vaas from the building. He knew the only thing that kept the other man from killing him was their kinship they had grown before Vaas took his place as the pirate king, but sooner or later, the man was going to snap, and nothing was going to stand in his way from ripping out his supposed friend's innards.
Scotty had taken the liberty of placing a wounded and drugged up Benny into the passenger seat of the jeep and buckling her in. Upon pulling away from her after fastening her seatbelt, the brunette woman giggled and smiled and giggled again and flashed a flirtatious grin to the Southern man. "I must say," she started, eyes closing and opening over and over. "Has God sent an angel upon me to forgive me of my deadly sins?" And she giggled again as she caressed the Texan's cheek, gliding her fingers lazily over the course bristles on his chin and jaw, then poking him in the nose.
Scotty offered a friendly smile and shook his head. Carlos had managed to glue shut the wound adorning the woman's head and face and bandage it as best he could, following up the medical proceedings with an injection of some anesthetics that should have knocked the loopy woman out by now, but she remained in the realm of the living, at least for now as the drugs took their effect on her mind. Scotty decided to stay by her side until she was completely out. The memory of the scene of Vaas handing over the bleeding woman into his arms tugged at his insides and gave him a worry he hadn't had in a long while. The white wife beater he wore was now stained a crimson red, leaving only the back and small spots on the front free of the color. Her blood had dried on his hands and arms and there was even some at his chin, this Benny's fingernails started to pick at, brushing the flakes away as she continued to smile, one eye non visible by bandaging, the other glazed over and humorous.
"'fraid not, darlin'," Scotty told her, closing his eyes as her fingers snaked their way up over his face to pull at the blonde locks falling over his forehead.
"Dammit," Benny said with another giggle, then her tone suddenly became serious and she reached her other arm over the side of the jeep's door, her hand finding the fabric of the man's shirt and pulling him closer. "I'm gonna miss you Scotty-too-Hottie," she said with a pout, one good eye wandering over the blonde pirate's face, though not focusing on anything in particular. If anything, her gaze was lost, in a fog. "Are you gonna miss me?"
Scotty chuckled and pulled her hand from his hair, rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs before meeting her gaze, as well as he could. "You'd be hard not to," he said, flashing that famous debonaire smirk which was welcomed with many a giggle and Benny's other hand ran across his chest and down his abdomen, tracing the muscles under the shirt. Benny bit her lip, smiling, then stuck out her tongue.
"I know you will...everyone always misses Benny," she said with a wink, licking her lips and giggling once again. "To see you when I wake up," she started to sing, though her speech was quickly slurring. "Is a gift, I didn't think could be real." Scotty rose a brow at this and tilted his head, suddenly puzzled. "To know tha'ou feel the same's I do, is a three-fold Utopian dream." Well, Scotty was certainly flabbergasted to say the least. Was this drugged up woman serenading him? "You do something to me...that I can't explain." Yes she was, and rather loudly, and he could honestly feel his cheeks flush as he scanned the area, hoping none of his fellow pirates could see, or most of all hear, what it was that was going on.
"Darlin', darlin'," he shook her shoulder and she ceased her singing, smiling broadly up at the man, seeming to be in quite the...Utopia... "You can stop now, hehe. Honestly, I appreciate the gesture but-"
"Kiss me." Well, that was certainly demanding of her, and any other time, Scotty would oblige, but this woman was loopy as hell, and certainly, and at least hopefully, would not remember a damn thing she had been saying to him. She was crazy right now.
"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to steady the woman as she wobbled back and forth in her seat.
"Just a lil goodbye kiss, honey," she said, one eye half lidded and she lent against the frame, still holding onto his hand.
Scotty chuckled and shook his head before glancing down at the drowsy woman, her smile quirky and innocent, glazy eye sincere and her hand was wrapped tightly around his own.
"Come on Scotty, don't be a pussy."
"Wha-" before he could say anything else, both of Benny's hands grasped at the sides of his face and pulled him down to her own, her lips crashing into his with a ferocity and possessiveness. He froze in place, not quite sure of how to take the gesture. For one, she was drugged. For two...well he couldn't think of any other reason not to return the kiss...so he did.
Benny's fingers crushed his jaw in a tight grip and her lips mashed against his, begging him to move, in which, he did, but more tenderly than she had done. As he had done before he clasped his lips around her bottom one and brought a hand up to caress across her cheek, and he felt the smile she was giving him.
It was quicker than their last two kissing sessions, and Scotty was actually grateful, especially when Vaas' condescending voice sounded behind him. He turned to eye the man warily as he approached, smile widening upon his face as he eyed the two pirates before him. "Aw, that was so sweet," Vaas said, laying his hands over his chest as he sauntered towards the Southern man, following the gesture with a chuckle. "Seriously, hermano, it brings a fucking tear to my eye. Like the Titanic." And he wiped away a fake tear before bursting out in a bout of laughter, which annoyed the blonde thoroughly, and he tensed when the man's hand clapped against his shoulder, fingers tight on his skin. "Honestly, I've never seen so much romance on this island."
"Oh don't worry, Scotty," Benny said, eyes quickly drooping as she spoke. "He's just jealous." Now, Vaas could have responded immediately with some rage filled comment or action, but was quickly silenced when the woman continued to speak. "Jealous that he didn't get to kiss you too." She said this with a smile and opened her eye to the pirate lord, giving him a smirk and then humming to herself. "Why don't you give Vaasy-poo here a kiss. Come on, it'll be sexy." And she lay her chin on her hand on the frame and waited for the two men to do her bidding.
Well, now both men were absolutely flabbergasted. Had she just suggested what they thought she had just suggested? Had she just told Scotty to...to... Oh no, he thought, shaking his head. Vaas was the first one to speak up, quickly going from down right...flabbergasted...to entertained. "Yeah, Scotty why don't you kiss me, hah?" he said with a grin. "Come on," he wrapped his arm around the taller man's shoulders and brought his head down, Scotty quickly pulling at the man's grasp. "Come on Scotty-too-Hottie, gimme a kiss." Scotty managed to pull away, but not before the pirate lord planted a big sloppy kiss to his cheek and he quickly wiped off the saliva that had accumulated on his skin from the other's lips. Disgusting, he thought, and he glowered at Vaas, the latter giggling and chuckling before leaning against the frame of the jeep, holding onto his sides when the laughter proved intolerable to his poor ribs.
"Fuckin' weird," Scotty accused, still rubbing at his cheek.
"Oh you fuckin' loved it," Vaas quipped, rubbing his poor abused ribs before glancing over at the bandaged brunette, her smile wide as she doubled over in a fit of giggles. "Like what you saw there, chica?" The woman could only nod her head and sigh as she leaned back in her seat, small chuckles escaping her lips every now and then. Vaas then brought his attention back to the blonde man and whistled, getting Scotty's attention, though it was more loathsome. "You ready, my friend?"
Scotty eyed his leader warily. "Ready for what?" he grumbled, taking a glance at the woman in the jeep, noticing that she was very close to unconsciousness finally.
"Why, for the hunt, amigo." He then called out to the men around the camp, each of them stopping in their tracks as they listened on to their leader. "Mi hermanos, any of you interested in helping me to hunt down some native motherfuckers, please, come forward."
"What's goin' on?" Scotty asked, frowning when a few of the men left the area to acquire their weapons of choice.
Vaas offered up a wry grin through his battered lips, and Scotty saw that murderous glint in his eyes. "My sister wants to play games," he told him. "So I'm gonna show her how to play the fucking games." He then scowled, and turned away from Scotty, about to make his way to the other side of the vehicle where Carlos was waiting when a pair of feminine hands grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back. "The fuck-"
"Shshshshshsh." It was Benny of course, and Vaas turned around, only to be met with a piercing green eye and hands at his face, pulling him closer. "I wanna see you," she said with a smile, eye scanning over every little feature of the man's face. "You have such a sweet face."
"The fuck is wrong with you?" Vaas growled, though he remained where she had him, curious to find out exactly what it was she was doing. Obviously not in her right mind, though he wondered if she was ever there in the first place.
Benny bit her lip and snickered, running a finger down his cheek, then back up to prod at his eyebrow, the scar on his scalp catching her interest and she smiled widely as she touched it softly. Vaas frowned and rolled his eyes and sighed. Benny continued to chew at her lip as she traced the line of the scar, feeling it slice through the skin, leaving a shallow crevice over his head and she traced it all the way to the end, then back, resting at his eyebrow once again. Vaas wasn't quite sure what she was doing, but...it was starting to become annoying. "I...I..." she started, and she kept hold of his face, her good eye darting everywhere around that they could see, and he furrowed his brows, grumbling under his breath. Her fingers swept over the cuts on his lips, the bruises on his cheeks, and the gash on his temple. "I am you," and she giggled again, sliding her hands down his cheeks before letting them fall to the frame of the jeep below, and Vaas stared.
She was certainly something different, he thought, and those thoughts quickly rushed through his mind like cars on an interstate, ants on the move, and her words echoed in his ears like sirens and he pulled quickly away, that woman's gaze quickly feeling like fire on his skin. He made quick work of getting to the other side of the jeep, eyebrows still knit together in his agitation and quickly growing puzzlement. Whatever the fuck she thought she was doing in her drugged up state, he hadn't a clue, but he didn't feel much like encouraging her. "Carlos," he said, getting the other Hispanic's attention, and Carlos glanced his way.
"Si, way," he said, watching the other men muddle around near the center of the camp, weapons at the ready as they awaited Vaas' order.
"I need you to send me a couple of men," Vaas told him, running a hand through his Mohawk, eyes glaring dangerously out into the distance.
Carlos nodded and started the ignition. "Anyone in particular?" he asked, knowing full well that what Vaas was planning concerning native citizens was neither pleasant, or blood free.
Vaas continued the glare, eyes moving over the quickly setting sun in the horizon, Scotty's body haloed by the light as Benny's fingers traced along his jaw once again. "The Juggalos."
Carlos nodded once again, and Scotty waved Benny off as the jeep rolled from the camp. Scotty lay his hands at his hip, letting a long breath out through his lips before averting his eyes back to his Mohawk'd leader. "You sent for them?" he asked, nodding in the direction the jeep had left, knowing that when Vaas called for the two men known as the Juggalos, a pool of blood would be left in their wake.
"My sister thinks she owns this fucking island," Vaas said with a grimace, spitting to the ground before crossing his arms. "It's time she gets it through her fucking head..." he met his eyes to the Southern man's, angry browns and greens meeting a cold blue. "I am the fucking king. And I always have been." He brushed past the American to address the men ready to partake in 'the hunt', ushering Scotty to follow, and he begrudgingly did. "I want you to bring me as many people as you can fucking drag," he ordered, a murderous touch coating his words. "Preferably alive. I want you to take them to the beach, tie them up, and leave them there. I'm fucking sick and tired of this shit, my friends, sick and tired of it." His fingers tarted to itch and twitch as he paced before the group of men and he placed a hand at the gun in his holster, preparing to remove it from its den. "She's gone too fucking far." He spoke now, more to himself than his peers, and he pulled the pistol out, waving it near his face and muttering incoherent murmurs before turning back to the quickly exciting pirates. "You find any warriors, you fucking shoot them! Fucking dead! The rest...bring home with you. Our dear friends Brandon and James are going to be coming over for a visit...I want them to have a little fun while their here."
The men stood tensed, ready for their leader to give them the go ahead to finally have some fun on this godforsaken piece of dirt. It wasn't every day that they were ordered to actually take hostage any native they saw. It was always only pretty girls and pretty boys and that was it. Vaas was looking for something to tear apart, and each one had a finger on the trigger of their gun. In the crowd, Mango's eyes cast down to the ground, his hand resting on the pistol at his side as the men around him hollered and whooped. They all, all of them, took a great joy in their profession on the Rook Islands, kidnapping, killing, torturing, and the use of drugs. They were all here to make a buck, to earn the money that would buy them the drugs and booze and pussy they all desperately desired. They're blood boiled like that of a demon's and they were ever eager to please their leader at his newest order. Mango stayed silent.
Through the hoots and hollers he felt his mind slip, only the slightest, for the fewest of seconds, to his mother, back home. Not in the Philippines, no, no they had moved from there many years ago when he was a kid. No...she was back in their home of Chicago, waiting for the next transfer of money he would send her, from his job she didn't know about, in a place she hadn't the clue of it's location, with his coworkers she would never have guessed were killers and rapists. For those few seconds that his mind wandered, he felt his heart break, if even the slightest. If she ever knew who he truly was, if she ever caught wind of the things he had done, her heart would surely give out. It wouldn't be the cancer that would take her; it would be her only son. He sighed inwardly as he felt his fingers itch, and then an arm was nudging his own and he looked up to the blonde haired Scotty flashing his smirk his way.
"You comin' little man?" he asked, blue eyes taken over by a blazing fire, no doubt for the opportunity to kill once again.
Mango smirked, pulling his pistol from its holster and nodded as he flicked the safety off. "Hells yeah," he said with grin and followed the gaggle of men, sticking the closest to Vaas. He was, after all, safest with the supposed mad man.
…..
Monster, how should I feel? Creatures lie here...looking through the windows...
The sun had set, and darkness loomed over the island with a an evil grin, its spindly fingers wrapping themselves around its unsuspecting victims, squeezing them tightly, suffocating them, constricting them until they burst open, their heads popping off like that of a dandelion when flicked with a thumb. A river of blood followed, the smell of burnt flesh rose in the air as the darkness traveled through the dirt paths, winding around the hills, coursing through the rivers, and coming to a stop on a deserted beach. Deserted that is, except for five bodies strung up over the sand, two of them lifeless, limbs and nails and teeth and eyes extracted from their bodies, pools of blood flowing down their lifeless forms to drench the white sands in the crimson glow. Brandon and Pyro walked through the sands, in their hands their favorite tools and a stereo for their favorite music.
Torches were their only light, but it was all the light they needed. They could create more fires, more sparks to catch the reflections of their tattooed and scarred faces in their victims' blood. They approached, sauntering casually towards the only victims left. A girl, maybe in her teens was on the left. A middle aged fisherman was on the right. A young son of a warrior was in the middle, only a small tattoo on his arm. He hadn't become a warrior yet. And after tonight, he never would. A good few yards away, there was already a pile of bodies being dragged away by other pirates. Vaas thought they'd make for good decorations to hang from the trees in the surrounding areas.
The young man's eyes were wide, wild with fear as he struggled in his bonds, sweat flowing over his body like someone had dumped a bucket of water over him. He was told not to fear, not to flee, not to show pain. But he was only a boy. How could he not...how could he not show any fear towards these demons. That was what they were in his dark eyes, these two men walking to him, to his people, they were demons, and they certainly looked the part too.
The first one was tall, much taller than any man the boy had seen before. He was an American white for sure, if his speech and cold blue eyes were any sign of his heritage. His hair, black as darkness itself, was shaved around his head, save for the sharp spikes atop his head, poking out this way and that. There were scars on his eyebrows and his ears, no doubt where piercings had been pulled out. There were tattoos adorning his arms and neck and face. A terrible face, with fangs painted into his skin above, under his lips, sharp teeth following along his jaw. There was black around his bright eyes, and the blackness streaked from his eyes to the sides of his head in sharp points and there was an aura of death about him. Of an untimely demise for anyone who crossed his path.
His companion was a disturbing sight to the victims. Looking nothing above demonic. His hair was a bright red color, sprouting out and running down the middle of his head, askew. He was disfigured, the left side of his body burned, the heavy scars adorning his body, and he wore them like a trophy, brown eyes alight with an excitement as he cast a wicked grin. His tattoos were battered and cut and destroyed by the scarring, only the tattoos of his right side were fully visible. The most striking, green and black scales covering his entire right arm, from his chest to his shoulder to his elbow to his wrist to his knuckles, and his gleeful demeanor, a forked tongue escaped through his pierced lips to waggle at his meal, two dripping tips licking at the cheek of the girl, an evil laugh following the action.
The boy closed his eyes tightly. He thought of demons as nothing more but stories, something parents scared their children with to put them to bed. But these men, with their wicked grins, forked tongues and deadly looking scars and tattoos only encouraged his new found belief. Vaas was the devil, and these were his workers...his demons.
"Alright," Brandon said, setting down the stereo and pulling two Tomahawks from their place at his waist. "So uh...you wanna take the old guy, I'll take the girl, and we'll meet in the middle?" He pointed to each person with one of the weapons at each mention, striking a fear into each victim, which he casually ignored. He was partially glad they were gagged.
"What!" Pyro cried incredulously. "No way I don't want the old fart. You always get the girls. I think it's time to start spreadin' the love, Brando." He crossed his arms and stuck out his forked tongue, wiggling it like a snake's.
Brandon rolled his eyes, and sighed. "Fine. I'll take the old guy."
"Yeah, you'll take the old guy," Pyro muttered, pulling up his blow torch and visor. "You get too much ass and pussy as it is, there's barely enough for the rest of us."
"Stop being such a baby," Brandon ordered, eying up the pleading man before him.
"I'm not a baby, I'm just speaking the truth," Pyro told him, putting the visor over his head, the straps flattening his bright red mohawk. "Honestly, a Catholic nun could spread her legs for you. How the hell do you do it, dude?" He lit flicked the torch, giving a hungry grin to the crying girl in front of him.
"Charisma," Brandon said dryly, taking a few practice swings with his Tomahawks, forcing the man to whimper and flinch every time the sharp hatchet like weapon swiped near his skin. "You should get some." He gave a mocking grin to his friend, who only rolled his eyes.
"Charisma, sharisma," he mocked, pulling his visor down, eyeing up the young girl before him, then pulling it back up. "Hey are these guys off limits or can I have some fun before I...have some fun." With this, he chuckled and blew a kiss in the girls direction. She only moaned and whimpered behind her gag, pulling at her bonds. Her struggles only entertained the pyro before her who caressed her cheek with a tattooed hand.
"Don't even go there, dude. Vaas was kind enough to invite us down to have some fun, don't try to overstay your welcome by fuckin' everything in sight. Just do your job and he said he'd get some girls back at the camp when we were done."
"But the struggling ones are always the funnest," Pyro whined, accentuating his beliefs by taking a firm hold of the girl's throat, squeezing tightly, causing the struggling girl to stiffen under his hand, her brown eyes growing wide from his assault.
"Oh I'm sure you can make them struggle," Brandon said, swinging his Tomahawks again towards the man's limbs to only stop before they pierced through his skin. "Hey why don't you go put some music on. Hate doing this when it's so quiet."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Pyro said excitedly as he let go of the girl, dropping his torch and skipping over to the stereo, eagerly turning it on and pressing play.
"Much better," said Brandon, nodding his head slowly to the music, his companion bouncing and jumping around to the song, quickly picking up his torch and igniting it, sending a horrendous fear through the young girl before him and her tears drenched her face like water.
"My ax is my buddy," Pyro said to the music, flipping the visor back down again and approaching the girl, her face alight with anguish as he let the flame glide over the soft skin of her shoulder. Her screams sounded behind the gag, but Pyro continued to play along to the music.
"I bring him when I walk."
"Me and my ax will leave your head outlined in chalk," Brandon continued, swinging his blade back before sending it forward, cutting straight through the old man's flesh, another swing and his arm would most certainly come off, so Brandon switched to the left arm.
"My axe is my buddy, he always makes me laugh." The flame burned down the girl's arm, leaving a fine trail of disfigured flesh in its wake.
"Me and my axe cut bigot spinal cords in half."
"My axe is my buddy, and when I wind him back..."
"Me and my axe will leave your forehead a buttcrack." Brandon swung the Tomahawk down, the body before him shaking and stuttering and screaming as the flesh of his arms were sliced through to the bone.
"My axe is my buddy, I never leave without him."
"Me and my axe will leave your neck a bloody fountain."
When the chorus sounded Pyro bobbed his head and bumped his shoulders, causing the flame to dance rapidly over the shrieking girl's flesh, making uneven lines and rivers in her arms. Brandon continued to nod his head to the music, swinging his Tomahawks this way and that, sending them into the man's calves, his thighs, his forearms, and his sides. "Alright," he said, letting the music play itself now. "I got one."
Pyro stopped in his torturing to glance over to the blue eyed man, happily swinging his axes through the air, no longer aiming at the man, at least for the moment.
"Richard Simmons...or Donald Trump?"
Pyro cut off the torch and raised up his visor. "Seriously dude? You're fucking serious? Another fucking gay one? God, come on man, not everyone on this island is gay like you!"
"Just answer the fucking question. Who would you rather do?" And he sent a Tomahawk into the man's hands, slicing off a few fingers as the blade cut through to the wooden surface behind him.
Pyro rolled his eyes and replaced the visor, getting back to work and sighing. "Donald Trump," he said lowly, ignoring for the moment the girl's constant screams and pleas and screeches and shuddering.
"Really?" Brandon asked, breaking from swinging the Tomahawks to lay a hand on his hip. His efforts, though they were few, were still a work out. After all, chopping up a man's body wasn't exactly easy work, especially with tactical Tomahawks. "Why Trump?"
"Well, why Simmons? He's fucking gay, and I don't mean in the homo way. I mean, imagine waking up the next morning. He'd prolly be all up in your face, pulling you outta bed so you can pick up some soda bottles and jog in place, slowly might I add. Not to mention, he's always so peppy." He smiled when the girl's skin of her chest started to bubble. "I mean, who wants someone that happy around right?"
Brandon pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and lit one up, letting the man bleed out, at least for now, until he decided to chop off his arms and legs completely. He eyed the pyro dryly. "Tell me about it."
This caught the scarred man's attention and he once again rose the visor. "That's cold dude. I thought we were homies." He shook his head, lowered the visor once again, and continued to burn the girl down her abdomen.
"I guess you're right though. Trump seems like the kinda guy who knows how to give you your space. Alright your turn." He let his cigarette hang from his lips as he picked his blades backup, taking a good chop at the old man's arm, cutting through the bone and watching it hang from the bonds, the man screaming loudly behind his gag, and Brandon took this opportunity to pull his cigarette away, blow out a puff of smoke, and replace it.
"Um...Mila Jovavich, or Kate Beckinsale?"
"Uh...in the movies? Or just as themselves?"
"Movies. Resident Evil vs. Underworld." The girl was starting to lose breath as most of her upper body had now been burned down to something resembling Freddy Kruger, to which, Pyro giggled and brought the flame up to her face, letting it sizzle the skin around her lips and nose.
"Kate," Brandon said, puffing from his cigarette again before aiming for the man's leg now, taking a few good swings before he was eventually forced to just chop away at the heavy flesh.
"Seriously dude? Mila's so much hotter?"
"Yeah, but in Rez Evil she's so worried about everyone else ya know? At least in Underworld Kate's all about her and her own, and Michael...that was his name right?"
"Yeah...but Mila's hot."
"Don't matter man. I mean, she can't get a damn thing done at all cuz she's constantly hooking up with everyone else and their problems it's like, dude, just say 'sorry can't help, on a mission'." He shook his head, dragged from the cigarette, and continued to chop, finally getting through the man's bone and watched as the limb fell to the sand. It's owner was left hanging from only his neck, his right arm, and his left leg, which had already given out from the multiple gashes in it. Job well done, Brandon thought, then stuck both Tomahawks through the man's neck, giving a rather cinematic scene as the middle aged fisherman's head fell to the sand, eyes still blinking in panic. "Unless we're talking Three Musketeers, then it's Milady all the way," Brandon said with a smirk of his tattooed over lips.
"Totally dude, haha!" Pyro said happily. "Hey you wanna swing?" he asked his companion, motioning towards the melting girl with his torch as he pulled his visor up.
Brandon shrugged, nodded, and walked over to the scarred man and now burnt near to death girl. Pyro happily finished the man's cigarette as he sat back in the sand, watching Brandon look over his pray with a certain lust, sliding the blades of his Tomahawks down her charred flesh and over her burnt breasts, creating nice little trails of blood behind said blades. He gave a smirk as he pulled back one of his Tomahawks, letting the back spike drive into the girl's chest.
The muffled screams of their victims tonight had alighted the monsters in them, exciting the men and thumping their hearts eagerly against their chests. Pyro was happily at home with his fiery—pun intended—ways of torture to death plays. And Brandon much enjoyed his axes, especially when he finally got a chance to use them on girls like this one, or boys that were just as nice to look at. The old man was just there to torment. Pyro was sure Brandon would have fun with the middle one, even though they weren't allowed to kill him. "How alive do you want him?" Brandon had asked the pirate lord.
"Alive enough to make it back to his people," Vaas had said with a sneer, and left them to their work. They were a tad peeved that Vaas had had his fun with half a dozen of the victims and they only had two, two and a half if you counted the boy they had to leave alive.
Brandon sent a powerful swing of the Tomahawk and it sliced down through the middle of the girl's forehead, her eyes rolled slightly into the back of her head as he pulled the blade out with little effort. "What about that Benny chick?" Pyro asked, flicking the cigarette into the puddles of blood under the now dead girl's body. "Bet you wouldn't have trouble getting between those legs. Mister Charisma," he said, mockingly.
Brandon chuckled and sidestepped towards the middle victim, eyes squeezed tightly shut, his breathing heavy through his nose and the much taller man smiled, bending his body down so as to meet the boy's eyes, that is, after he got them to open them. "Yeah, but I'm pretty sure Scotty's already got dibs," Brandon said, prodding the boy warrior's cheek with a tattooed finger, then poking him in the forehead, causing only whimpers from the boy. Brandon's hand then went to caress his sweat and tear streaked face, almost in a soothing way that confused the boy and he finally managed to peek his eyes open, and brown quickly met the cold blue of his torturer, the friendly smile betraying the pain he was about to bring onto this poor unfortunate soul.
"Please," Pyro laughed, rising to his feet and grabbing a glass bottle filled with gasoline. "Like that could stop you. 'Sides, she's gonna be at the compound...in your room, mind you," he said, snickers following after as he let his split tongue play with the top of the bottle.
"Don't remind me," Brandon said, irritably. The fact that he was going to now have to share his room with a new recruit, let alone a woman one, was almost a joke. He didn't like sharing his room with anyone. He liked his space and had been happy with it over the years, until Vaas got the wonderful idea to change that up, claiming that Benny might not wanna sleep alone since she's so used to sleeping with half a dozen other men. At first, Brandon just thought this meant she was easy, but he was quickly informed that it meant she was actually a pirate, with actual space, who could actually sleep in the same room with other men without having to worry about them trying to have their way with her. She obviously knew how to take care of herself. Still though...Brandon didn't like to share. Not to mention, he liked to bring in 'company' for the night. How the hell was he gonna do that now with a woman in the room? No doubt she'd complain and whine about it.
"Maybe you can show her some things Scotty can't," Pyro said with a wink.
Brandon managed a chuckle at this before bringing his Tomahawk back. "Alright, I'll take the first swing, you take the next...so on and so forth till his arm comes off, okay?"
Pyro nodded and waved for the man to start. "Your turn by the way."
The blade sliced through the boy's outstretched arm and he wailed and cried behind his gag, tears springing from his eyes as the blood gushed from the wound, coating his assaulter's already bloody arm in another magnificent layer of crimson. "Okay...uh...Will Smith or Martin Lawrence?"
Pyro sighed exaggeratedly, picking up Brandon's second Tomahawk and taking the tattooed man's place in front of the boy. "Seriously dude. I don't know whose gayer. You or Carlos." And he took a swing, the Tomahawk slicing through another part of the boy's arm. He had missed the mark. Oh well, they had all night to get this right.
"I don't know," said Brandon, swinging and hearing the agonizing moans from their victim. "Nother swing should do it. Just don't miss this time. Now answer the fucking question."
"Ugh fine. Movie? Or themselves?"
"Movie. Doesn't matter which one."
"God," Pyro ground out, taking a swing finally hitting his mark. There went the boys arm, falling from his body to hang from its bindings and Pyro smiled at this. "Martin Lawrence, just cuz he seems like a screaming bitch in bed."
"Will Smith. I like turning dogs into bitches. Hell I'd fuck Vaas if he let me," Brandon said with a laugh.
Pyro returned the laugh heartily. "Yeah I dare you to say that to his face."
"If I did, he'd probably shoot me."
"At least he'll have known the truth though," Pyro said through a chuckle then grabbed up his torch and lit it again, and, bringing the bottle of gasoline to his lips, let the liquid flow into his mouth.
"You're fuckin' crazy you know that?" Brandon said, crossing his arms and smirking at the shorter, more scarred man beside him.
Pyro could only smile though and give a thumbs up, his mouth filled with flammable liquid as he brought the fire before his own face.
"You fail at this, you won't have much of a face left, you know that right?"
Pyro shrugged, continued to smile, then blew the gasoline through the fire, lighting up the boy's face with the glorious flames. It was a shame they had to keep him alive; Pyro could have done this all damn night.
XXX
Voila! My two 'Juggalos' :) Ah, they're my pride and joy. I love them, and I hope you do to :) I think it was a nice little rationing of Benny and the other characters, and her little run in with Doug and how she was not surprised the island was overrun with pirates. And oh look, a teensy weensy bit of a snippet into Vaas' past a little bit there. Trust me, I could write a fuckin' novel on my ideas for his past. But for now...I'll just work on a lil backstory to put in my profile later on. We'll learn more after a couple more chapters ;)
Thanks again to JJ for helping me make decisions...and having me make this chapter extra long by adding my Juggalo scene...but you know...I'm glad I did it, cuz I love them :)
Anyways, let me know what you think por favor. I kinda rushed in some parts, but I wanted to get this thing done with in one day. So far...this is the longest chapter...but author notes are also included so...yeah.
Also...someone draw some dekked out Rakyat Vaas. Come on...it'd be sexy ;) Or a Rakyat'd out Vaas fighting a Rakyat'd out Dennis. Trust me, if I were an artist, there'd be soooooo much stuff up right now. Especially of my Juggalos and Scotty. I think they're my favorite...Benny too...but come on...I like my boys ;)