312067, Ukrenium Dimension
Bill slipped the ring onto the young lady's finger. "Trust me, my dear, it looks ravishing on you." He gingerly kissed her hand, and she giggled, blushing.
"Well...alright. How much is it?"
"$200, nice and easy," he replied, winking.
She hesitated only for a moment, but then she instantly went for her pocketbook. She pulled out several emerald bills, the Ukrenium Council's face staring back at him. He quickly accepted it and blew her a kiss. "Pleasure doing business with you."
She blushed, and then scurried off, leaving Bill to have a good laugh. People were so gullible these days. Most people say that their face is their money maker, but in Bill's case, it was quite literal. His tan skin was the color of honey, and it was dotted with freckles mimicking constellations. His electric blue eyes could convince you of anything. He had bright blonde hair that swept in front of his right eye, and his grin always told you he was up to no good. He wore a yellow button up shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, a black bow tie, and black suspenders.
He had set up a small booth filled up with cases of cheap jewelry, made from anything from plastic to bottlecaps. Luckily, this was one of the only free markets in the city, so it didn't matter if his products were fake. As long as he had a permit, he could sell whatever he liked.
Except he didn't have a permit.
He grinned, slipping the bills into his pocket, and as he turned back to his stand, he bumped straight into Marshal Leviathin. Marshal was the owner of the market, but he rarely dropped by, except, it seemed, whenever Bill was there. He was a grotesque, portly demon, with the head of a spider, the body of a bear, and the feet of a horse. Despite his frightening appearance, he was only a lesser demon, so Bill wasn't obligated to bow in his presence or have his toes cut off if he misbehaved.
"Cipher," he growled. "What did I say if I ever caught you selling your knockoffs here again?"
Bill paused, pretending to think about it. "You'd take me to dinner?"
Leviathin snarled even harder. "None of your cheek, kid. Unless you've gotten yourself a permit in the last two weeks, I'm going to have to take you in to get processed."
Bill gulped, trying to mask his nerves. He'd heard about his neighbors getting 'processed.' The Stranges in the apartment next door had held a gathering at the club where they preached about equality and revolution. A week later, the cops showed up to their apartment in the middle of the night and hauled them out. When Bill asked what they were going to do with them, he said they were going to be processed. He still didn't know what it meant, but he knew it wasn't good.
"As a matter of fact, I do have a permit. See for yourself." He knelt down and began to slowly click open the dirty briefcase lying next to his stand. Leviathin stood there, glaring at him skeptically.
The second Bill opened the case, a torrent of wind burst out of it, sucking the stand inside, and knocking Leviathin off his hooves with a yelp. Bill closed the case, and dashed down the nearest alley as fast as he could.
"After him!" Leviathin shouted, and Bill knew he was in for a rough afternoon.
Bill tore down a series of back alleys and passage ways, throwing off the expensive shoes pounding after him. He crawled up a nearby fire escape, and climbed through the unlocked window, which led into a vacant apartment. He trekked up the long flights of stairs outside the apartment, and reached the roof of the building. He jumped, and landed on the roof of the next complex over. He dropped down from there onto the fire escapes that surrounded the walls, and banged his fist against the window furthest to the right.
"Kill! Will! Open up!" he hollered.
Soon, a figure ran up to the grimy window and called back, "Bill? Is that you?"
"No, it's Time Baby." Bill rolled his eyes. "Of course it's me, Will. Open up already!"
He didn't open the window, however. Instead, he seemed to be having a conversation with a voice just outside of his range. He couldn't hear what it was saying, but it suddenly called, "Maybe just a few more minutes. Then I can get some peace and quiet."
"Y'know Kill, you can always just pay for your own lunches!" Bill shouted angrily.
Silence.
The window was finally clicked open, and Will greeted him as he crawled inside. Bill didn't pay attention, however. He was more focused on glaring at Kill, who was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper.
Kill took a sip of his coffee, not even looking at Bill. "I don't know what you're glaring at me for. It's your own fault for selling that rubbish without a permit."
Bill scoffed, and sat down opposite him on the rickety table. "Uh-huh, says the person who murders people for a living."
Kill scowled at him so hard as if he wanted to murder Bill, and he probably could have. Kill was the eldest Cipher brother, and he was best defined by the word red. He looked similar to Bill, with his honey skin, shirt and suspenders, bow tie, and spiky hair that was longer than was deemed appropriate. That's where the similarites end, however. His hair was a bright red, that matched perfectly with his shirt and personality. On top of the shirt was a glossy back waistcoat, which was the most expensive item the three of them had ever owned. His eyes were a charcoal black, and he never grinned unless he had blood on his hands. Because of his violent disposition, a nearby syndicate hired him as a hitman, and to say that he enjoyed his work was an understatement.
"Watch it," he said through gritted teeth. "If I killed you, we might actually make a decent income instead of you mooching off of me."
Bill only laughed. "Oh, you could, but it would be too much work to clean my blood off of the walls."
Will quickly interjected, pushing Kill back into his chair before he could fire a hole into Bill's head. "Hold on, Bill did collect some money." He turned to him. "How much?"
"About $500 dollars worth of cheddar."
"See? He's pulling his weight. This should cover our water bill for about two months," Will calculated, smiling at Bill. Will was the middle brother, and the gentlest of the trio by far. Bill always said that he was too nice for this cutthroat world, and he had yet to be proven wrong. He, like the other two, had honey skin, and donned the typical shirt, suspenders, and bow tie, favoring a shade of sky blue. His blue hair was spiky as well, but was shorter and more well-kempt. While the others could read and write at a competent level, Will was the most educated. He was an excellent mathematician, and was polite and obedient, which served him well in his indentured servitude. He owed a debt to a rich demon family, the Pools, so he was required to serve them in order to pay it off. For how long, Will didn't know.
Kill merely scoffed and turned to a bottle of whiskey in the cabinet. "I need a drink," he grumbled.
"Not too much of that," Will warned him and he checked his pocket watch. "You're due for another target in a few hours."
Kill only grinned at him as he carried the whiskey bottle to his room. "I kill best when I'm drunk."
The door slammed shut.
Bill shook his head. "Isn't that a pleasant welcome?" He collapsed on the moldy couch and lit up a cigarette.
Will busied himself by cleaning up Kill's mess on the table. "To be fair, that was far nicer than any of your interactions this month. No guns were drawn."
Bill chuckled bitterly. "Thank you, Will, for putting that into perspective. At least one good thing came out of this afternoon. I walked out with a pretty penny and Leviathin never frisked me. Oh, and speaking of which, I wouldn't open that briefcase."
He perked up, and stared over at the briefcase. "Is that a Quantum Containing Case?"
"Got it in one." Bill held up two finger guns at him.
"Does Kill know you spent your money on that?"
Bill snorted. "Of course not. Could you imagine the bloodbath? Just make sure he doesn't open it or read the label too carefully."
Will nodded, silently tidying up the space. There was a long period of silence, and then he spoke. "What do you think this world would be like if demons didn't exist?"
He paused, thinking about it. "I'm not sure, but it's got to be better than this."
...
That night, as Bill fell asleep in his cot, he dreamed.
It was odd, because Bill was notorious for never dreaming when he slept. Bill found himself in a wheat field, huge spaceships that had crashed and burned lying around him. He surveyed the area, perplexed, until he heard a voice speak in his mind.
Young Cipher.
He whipped around, his eyes frantically scanning the field. "Who said that?"
When gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with just one eye.
He stamped his foot on the ground angrily. "Show yourself!"
Suddenly, Bill was surrounded by a blue light eminating from the ground. It was quickly tracing a glowing blue circle around him, filled with symbols he didn't recognize...Pinetree...Shooting Star...Question Mark...
The circle lit up with blue fire, and Bill felt as though his soul was being ripped from his body. He screamed in anguish, but no sound came out, leaving him to crumple into dust.
PinetreeShootingStarQuestionMarkFezLlamaIceTentofTelepathyHeartSpectaclesSixFingers
When gravity falls and earth becomes sky
"Welcome one and all, to Weirdmageddon!"
A-X-O-L-O-T-L, a different form, a different time
Fear the beast with just ONE EYE!
Bill jolted awake in a cold sweat, desperately scanning his surroundings. His frantic eyes eventually caught onto Will's gaze, who was looking at him with a concerned expression. "Are you alright?" he asked.
He panted, trying to clear his mind. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Vivid dream, that's all." He put a hand to his forehead, which was burning up.
"Let me get you some tea, it'll help calm you down." Will stood from his spot on the couch and moved over to the kitchen to get the kettle.
Bill wiped the sweat off his brow. "What are you doing up at this hour, anyway?"
Will shrugged. "Waiting for Kill. His work is usually pretty messy, and he needs me to help clean up."
He nodded, and a few minutes later, Will returned to Bill's cot with a warm cup of tea. He thanked him, and gingerly sipped it as he tried to calm down. "Did you want to talk about your dream?"
Bill grinned and waved him off. "No, it doesn't make sense anyhow. I probably couldn't explain it to you if I tried."
"Suit yourself. Try to get some sleep, okay?"
He didn't respond, he only fell back against his pillow and pulled the blankets up to his chest. The last thing he saw before sleep overtook him was one bright yellow eye in the window, staring at him.