He had an order. You always follow the orders. No matter what. Empty yourself. Become the assassin. Become the murderer. Become the monster.
Graverobber waited patiently in a darkened alleyway. He'd studied the R.O. long enough to know her habits. That's what made him an Elite, now. He was no longer the child his victims had seen. He was grown, a man of 25. As the child of Z addicts and graverobbers for the precious commodity, he had learned the ways to fade into the background. How to follow and stalk.
Here he stood, stalking his prey.
Part of him couldn't focus on the task at hand. He still remembered the final argument he'd had with Carmela.
She had become obsessed with surgeries, altering her once beautiful appearance to someone he no longer recognized. She didn't even remotely resemble the woman he had fallen in love with- for every surgeical procedure she underwent, her personality had changed drastically. She's begun to distance herself from both him and Tarja, no longer spending time with them. Tarja had almost died from Mommie Dearest's latest surgery and Carmela hadn't even bothered to visit Tarja. Tarja's dark sense of humor remained, but something inside her had died. Tarja had already lost one of her closest friends and Graverobber wouldn't allow Tarja to lose him.
He had tried to talk to Carmela earlier that day, but her thoughts were, as always, focused on her looks and appearance.
"Carmela, I'm trying to talk with you. Would it kill you to put down the fucking mirror?" he growled.
Carmela had rolled her eyes and slammed her compact shut with an audible snap.
"What?" she asked impatiently.
"You do know that Tarja almost died earlier, right?"
"Of course I do! I asked her mother to give her the newest form of Zydrate so she'd be okay from the pain."
"WHAT?" Graverobber yelled, standing up while knocking his chair down.
"Give her a day, she'll be fine," Carmela said, waving her hand.
"Who are you?" Graverobber asked, his eyes darkening to the woman he had thought he'd known so well.
"Excuse me?" Carmela said, her voice deadly.
"What, did your newest surgery fuck up your hearing, now? Your best friend almost died. She doesn't want drugs. She wants her friend! And here you are, staring into a mirror. What the hell happened to you, Carmela?"
"Fuck you, Graverobber."
Graverobber scoffed.
"We're done."
He walked out of the room the the job.
His mind was still focused on the argument with Carmela, causing him to almost miss the R.O. Almost.
He pounced on the woman as she turned her back to him, knocking her out quickly.
Rotti Largo had given him the order directly, no paperwork or files on this one. "Off the books," Rotti had said. "Just her heart. She has been in default for three months."
Graverobber rolled the woman on to her back a she slowly came to. She saw his face and instead of crying, instead of begging, she simply smiled. It was almost as if she had been waiting for this day.
Graverobber looked through his bag, finding the tools he needed.
The woman still wasn't crying. It aroused his curiosity.
"What? No begging?" he asked derisively.
"No. No begging or compromises. I'd known for years this day would come. But I also know about you. Your connections to Rotti...to my little sparrow. Tell her I tried. Please," the woman had whispered.
He gave no thought as he cut the woman's heart from her chest.
It wasn't until he was outside Rotti's office when the woman's words had hit him.
"My little sparrow."
Graverobber dropped the container with the woman's heart, the thud resounding through the empty halls of the top floor.
"Do you have it?" he heard a voice ask.
Graverobber turned around, face to face with Rotti Largo.
Rotti had a small smile of triumph on his face, his hands laced together in front of his body.
"Your wife...the mother of your children."
"Your point, young man?"
"...She wasn't an R.O. Was she, Rotti?"
"What concern is that to you, Graverobber? I had my reasons. We all have our reasons for doing what has to be done."
"Murdering your wife needed to be done?"
"I didn't murder my wife, Graverobber. There is no record of her in the system. No files. Nothing," Rotti laughed, his sick smile only disgusting Graverobber.
"You foolish child!" Rotti laughed. "You know nothing. You understand nothing."
Graverobber rushed Rotti, taking a syringe out of his pocket and holding it to the older man's neck.
"What have you done?" Graverobber asked. Rotti, the great Rotti Largo, was now afraid. He had made sure this young man could be the best/ He had no doubt of Graverobber's intentions.
"She said she'd come back," Rotti said, eyes on the syringe.
"Your wife?"
"Yes."
"Why did she leave? You know she loved Carmela and your sons."
"She would have taken them," Rottie sobbed. "You know the situation. You know. I couldn't lose them."
Graverobber looked at the older man, pure disgust in his eyes. Without a thought, he stabbed the syringe into a vein in Rotti's neck, pushing the plunger down as the clear liquid entered his body.
"Three years should give you plenty of time to think," Graverobber said, tearing off his RepoMan gear and throwing them to the ground.
"You turn all you touch into poison. Your daughter's become a monster, your sons- damaged and broken. Because of your greed."
The drug coursed through Rotti's veins, rendering him unconscious.
Graverobber took the elevator to Tarja's room. He had to be quick, not knowing how much time he had.
Tarja was still on the bed, a young Gentern holding her.
"We've gotta go. Now," he said, grabbing several items of clothing for the two women.
"Wh-" Tarja said. The red haired, green eyed Gentern turned, confused.
"If we stay here any longer, we're dead. We need to leave. You know you can't live through another procedure, Tarja. And Naomi, how much longer till Pavi gets to you? You're not safe."
The two women nodded and collected their things, leaving GeneCo, and their dark past behind.
The memories had gradually hit Graverobber as he held Shilo. She was reading the poetry book, her head snuggled against his chest.
"Hey. What's wrong?" he head her ask. He looked down and saw her concerned face. Shilo reached to his cheek and gently wiped away his fallen tears.
"Nothing. Guess my mind was just wandering a little too far, this time," he said, gently moving Shilo off his body. "But you should be getting ready. The Almighty Amber Sweet is expecting your company shortly."
"I'll try to keep it as short as possible," Shilo said, patting his hand.
"It's fine, Shilo," Graverobber said, kissing her cheek. "I need to go to Tarja's anyway. But if I'm not mistaken, I believe your driver is here."
"I love you," Shilo said.
Graverobber kissd her softly. "I love you, too."
"You win, Tarja. You always win," Graverobber said, plopping down in the wooden chair at the kitchen table.
It had been slowly winding down as of late. Naomi had succeeded with the vaccine and the children were no longer having to wait out a painful death. Both Tarja and Naomi were greatful for the brief repreive, grateful the children and others were no longer suffering as they once were.
"And you've now just realized this?" Tarja asked innocently. Naomi laughed.
"God, I'd hate the two of you if I didn't like you so much."
"Oh! Does this mean we can watch next time?" Naomi asked, sipping her coffee. Tarja spit hers out, laughing heartily.
"I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean," Graverobber replied loftily.
"Never mind. Oh, by the way, nice hickey."
"Hi, Shilo. Please, take a seat," Amber said, carrying a sheaf of files to her side of the desk. Shilo sat down cautiously.
Amber sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. It seemed to Shilo that Amber was exhausted.
"I want to apologize. I've been putting an unfair amount of pressure on you lately. It's wrong of me to do so, especially after you've been through so much, lately."
"Ok."
"But the thing is...God. Well. Let me start with something else. Did you know I knew your mom?"
"Uh...no. I mean, I figured you might have, but how?"
"My mom left when I was 5. Marni was working with my dad at the time and kind of became my surrogate mom for two years, before she married your dad. I loved her very much and it's part of the reason why I've been pushing you like this."
"My mom and Marni wanted the Repos to end. Completely. But they never were able to convince my father. Even if they had stopped the regular RepMen, they still would have had to deal with the Elite."
"I don't understand," Shilo said.
"The Elite are the head of the beast, so to speak. They are the top of the food chain for a reason and are the reason why Repo's can't be stopped. They're working it more than anything. That's why we need the files, Shilo. Your dad was the first. He was the leader and has records of all the Elite. Every repossession they've done. Their names. I know you've been having difficulty accessing them, but I remembered my dad assigning every Elite a safe for their files. As the head of them, your dad would have records for all of them. It's what's in here, Shilo. There is a combination to the safe in these files somewhere and I think the safe might be in your dad's workroom."
Shilo started, dumbfounded and shocked at what Amber had told her.
Several minutes of silence had passed before Shilo could speak.
"This will end it all?"
Amber smiled.
"Yes."
Graverobber stood in the shower, the hot warm prickling his skin. His mind was racing with imagined scenarios of him telling Shilo. Telling her everything and he was afraid.
He had never been afraid before- usually, to feel fear, you have to have something to lose. Now, he stood at risk of losing everything he had been building with Shilo.
"Hey. Room for two?" he heard her ask. He jumped at the sound of her voice.
"Damnit, Kid. It's not nice to sneak up on people when they're naked in the shower. Not very good manners," he sighed. "But yes. There's always room for you."
He heard the rumpling of clothes falling, felt the brief chill of the air as the curtain opened.
Shilo stepped in, smiling at Graverobber. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her.
This is what he would lose if he told her.
This and so much more.
