Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts characters are not mine.
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There's no knowledge that has the power to change your fate.
-DiZ
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"Hey Sora, I heard you finally landed a job."
"Yeah! You're looking at the new culinary assistant of Radiant Gardens!" Sora puffed out his chest proudly.
"You mean you're a dishwasher? Congrats!" Riku pounded his back whole-heartedly, and laughed at the choking noises his friend made.
"Aw man, just cause you got that spot on the investigation team doesn't mean you can laugh at my job…" the younger male pouted and ignored Riku's half-assed apology.
"Weren't you the one that wanted to join the police in the first place? I'm still waiting for you man."
"Don't gotta rub it in," Sora muttered quietly while he sipped at his chocolate milkshake. Riku, who noticed his friend's discomfort, decided to drop the subject.
"Well if we're ever short on men, I'll suggest your name to my superiors."
"Really?" Riku almost smiled at Sora's instant turnabout.
"Will you really do that Riku?"
"Yeah, it's a promise."
"Aw man, you're the greatest!" Sora clapped Riku on the back, and almost made his friend spill his milkshake.
"Hey! Watch it!"
"Oh sorry," his light-hearted tone belied his apology, "But I gotta run! My shift starts in a half hour!"
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The screams of the men still resounded in his ears.
The cloaked man turned and sought out his target. A pallid, corpulent man trembled in the corner and watched with dread as the hooded man came closer. A gloved hand roughly gripped the expensively-tailored front shirt and pushed the helpless man against the blood-splattered wall.
"P-please, just tell me what you want. Is it money? Fame and recognition? I can give you anything! Just don't kill me…"
Upon hearing those words, the emotionless face enshrouded within the hood smirked.
The pathetic fool.
"What is your relationship with the Panettiere family?"
"N-n-nothing at all!" the man stuttered.
"Wrong answer," the hooded man hissed, and pulled out a sickle-shaped knife. He pressed the glinting metal blade against the man's shaking jowls and waited.
"Okay! I'm sorry! We only supply them with our merchandise. I met the head of the family once during a meeting, but there really isn't anything remarkable about them!"
"Really…" the assassin drawled in a droll voice, "is there nothing remarkable about having the country's largest bounty on their heads? Nothing remarkable about how they became the wealthiest billionaires almost overnight? Mr. President, let's not waste any more of my time."
"I'm telling the truth! I-I don't know anything more!"
Satisfied with the terrified man's answer, the black cloaked male released his grip. The blade was also released from its threatening position, but was still grasped in his hand.
"So tell me… what's the combination to the safe in your office?" His cruel tone demanded nothing less than the truth.
"Twenty-two left, eighteen right, and five left," the president whispered, glad to be spared. The hooded male nodded, and turned around. The portly gentleman exhaled a silent breath of relief, and closed his eyes.
He didn't see the blade of the sickle knife flash out and slash open his jugular. He didn't see the way the dark blood bloomed over his rumpled shirt like a flower. His eyes were closed, and death drew him in its embrace instantly.
The killer took in the sight with a sneer.
One less to stain the world.
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"Idiot! What the hell are you doing?"
"Sorry! Sorry!" The unfortunate adolescent scrambled desparately with his hands full of plates.
The onlookers in the kitchen looked on with pity at the newcomer who was struggling under the boss's yelling. Mr. Lance was a strict and hard taskmaster, one who did not tolerate any mistakes and who allegedly showed his affections in the form of verbal assaults. Unfortunately for the new guy, it looked like the master took a fond liking to him. Maybe too fond.
"Those dishes are not going to deliver themselves!" the restaurant owner roared over the din of kitchen staff and culinary appliances.
"Got it!" Sora shouted back good-naturedly.
It's only been a week since he started working under Mr. Lance, but he definitely had the toughest workload than the other workers. Of course, Sora would never complain. The pay was good, and he liked the friendly environment. Even the burly owner himself was growing on him.
"Here you go ladies," Sora smiled politely as he placed the orders on the table, "If you need anything else, please tell me." The pair of middle-aged women giggled unabashedly at their handsome, young waiter.
"Of course," one of the women tittered as she batted her fake eyelashes.
Sora resisted the urge to barf as he quickly made his way back the kitchen. He was so distraught with the mental images that he didn't see the puddle of spilled soup on the floor. The unfortunate teenager didn't even have time to yell as both hands flew up to the ceiling and he landed with a hard thump on the linoleum floor. The dirty dishes that he was carrying landed with a crash besides him.
"You idiot!"
Definitely not a good day.
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Sora brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of his free hand. The other hand had a firm grip on the black, bulging garbage bag.
He really thought the owner was going to burst a blood vessel yelling at him like that. And all over some broken dishes. After that incident, he was suspended from his regular duties and forced to empty out garbage cans for the rest of the day.
The dumping ground was way back behind the hotel grounds, which took him a good five minutes to reach, and is neighbored by dark alleys. There was nobody there, and the sounds of traffic could be faintly heard from his spot.
"Really, isn't the hotel super rich? Why should a couple of dishes be that big of a deal?" the exasperated student muttered between breaths. With a heave, he lifted the dumpster cover and flung in the bag. The brunette dusted off his hands and prepared to head back inside the building for more bags.
However, his ears picked up some fast-approaching footsteps. At first, he just brushed it off as a passerby, but as he turned, a thought came to him.
It was getting late into the night. The custodial service had already gone home, and anyone else that had business to do behind the hotel in the darkness was… suspicious. Since he was too far from the back door, Sora opted for the next best thing: to hide behind the rows of metal dumpsters.
The quick footsteps stopped right at the dumpster he just used. Sora held his breath.
Did he see me?
With a rusty creak, the metal top was lifted, and there was a sound of a bag tossed in. An annoyed voice lightly commented on the "useless incinerator which wouldn't even take a jacket," and the unknown individual promptly disappeared off in the direction of the alleyways.
Sora cautiously peeked out from his hiding place after a few moments. He didn't see anybody, so he crept out. Curious, he swiftly lifted the lid of the dumpster, and realized he couldn't see anything at all. He remembered that there were more garbage bags waiting for him back in the restaurant, and he could always borrow a flashlight from the janitor's closet.
A few minutes later, Sora re-emerged from Radiant Garden's back door with another black garbage bag and a flashlight in hand. He glanced in the direction of the dark alleys, and when he was satisfied that no one was watching, he clicked on the flashlight and peered into the dumpster.
The bright beam lit upon dozens of identical black garbage bags. Sora squinted. They all seemed identical, except one. There was one that wasn't even remotely filled up, and was double knotted.
'Bingo," he grinned.
He felt like a criminal somewhat, as he dropped off his garbage bag, and snuck off into the nearest bathroom with his loot. Safe from prying eyes in a stall, Sora sat down on the toilet seat and opened up the bag carefully.
"Eh… it's just a regular hoodie." He pulled it out carefully. Sora scrutinized the black, over-sized coat curiously. The coat was huge and had a ridiculously large hood with long, wide sleeves, and a zipper that reached all the way to the ground. The material felt like heavy fabric, somewhat similar to jeans, but was unusually stiff in certain areas. He shook the coat free of the bag, and was surprised to see brown flakes fall to the ground.
What are those?
Sora gingerly scratched at the durable cloth with a fingernail, and sure enough, dark brown particles clung to his finger. He brought the coat to his nose and sniffed.
The stench of blood.
Like a hot brick, Sora dropped the garment on the bathroom floor and stood up. His blue eyes wide and panicked, the teenager was at a loss at what to do.
Just who was that guy? Should I pretend this never happened? This isn't good. This isn't good.
He chanted to himself repeatedly, and felt his heartbeat rise. He clenched his fists and tried to take deep breaths to calmed himself down.
It's ok Sora, this is no big. Think, what would Dad have done in this situation?
After he contemplated for a few minutes, Sora walked resolutely out of the bathroom stall, and headed towards Sixth Dragon with the bag in his hands.
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They lounged within the shadows. The clinks of glasses were heard from behind the bar counter, where a lanky male dried the cups with a dishtowel. An older man sat with a handful of cards, his feet propped up comfortably on the low table. Opposite of him, a slender woman with short-cropped hair glanced at him suspiciously over her hand of playing cards. With a disgusted cry, she flung her cards on the table and stormed over to the mini bar.
"Lost again?" the guy behind the counter teased.
"Shuddap. Gimme one of your specials."
The red head smirked at her snappy retort and took out a shot glass. With a well-practiced flourish, he poured in some Bailey's, then Goldschlager, and finally finished with fine Bacardi. He took out the Zippo that he always carried around and placed it next to the glass. With a snap, he lit the lighter and blew lightly. Within seconds, the contents of the glass caught on fire and casted an eerie glow on the young man's features.
"Here y'go," he winked as he slid the flaming cocktail towards the woman, "Bailey's Comet, made my style."
"Pyromaniac," she muttered under her breath. The blonde hardly glanced at the flickering flames as she downed the shot in one gulp. She licked her lips, and said, "Not strong enough."
"Young lady, I do not know where you developed this high alcohol tolerance, but some moderation is highly suggested," the victorious card player lightly reproved as he took a seat next to her.
"Mind your own business."
Three heads turned as the sole door to the room opened. A male with pale hair that reached his shoulders walked inside with a brown envelope in one hand. He only had a light shirt that was unbuttoned at the top, as well as non-descript black jeans that hugged his figure quite snugly. Without a word, he sat down on the other side of woman and placed his light package on the counter.
"How goes the job?" The female asked softly.
"Fine," he tapped the envelope, "took this out of Tron Electronic's safe. Thought the Superior might wanna take a look."
The female leaned casually over his shoulder to take a look. The heady scent of French lavendar reached her nose. She shared a look with the red head behind the counter. Their comrade only used strong shampoo when he couldn't wash off the stench of blood. Which meant a messy run.
"Hey, want a drink?"
"Just water."
"Body count?" the older man asked.
"Twenty-four. Including the president."
A sharp intake of breath.
"You know that was not in the orders."
The newcomer sighed and reached for the glass of water.
"The fat bastard had it coming. He's not even good enough to be worm food," he pushed the large envelope towards the older man, "And this here is more important. He was getting anonymous deposits to his checking account at regular monthly intervals. From an overseas account."
"Yes.. this is something noteworthy," the elder man said as he scanned the articles. The blonde woman peered over his shoulder. "Have we finally found them?"
"Perhaps."
"Ya know… the cops are gonna go crazy over the mess you left..." the bartender drawled.
"I didn't leave any evidence."
"I'm not saying you did. Only, it's been a long time since we actually did shit."
"Getting excited aren't you?"
"Heh. Yeah."
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"So that's exactly what happened," he finished with a steadfast look at his employer.
Dilan Lance remained completely expressionless during the whole account. Then, the tall, burly owner of the restaurant heaved a tedious sigh, and gestured towards one of his lower chiefs.
"Demitri, I'll let you handle things here. I need to go resolve some business." The younger man nodded, and Mr. Lance told Sora to follow him.
"We need to notify the managerial staff. They'll know what to do."
They took the elevators at the entrance of the restaurant. But instead of pressing the button indicating lobby like Sora thought he would, the older man pressed the one labled "basement level".
"I thought the managers would be in the first floor-"
"It's almost midnight. I'm pretty certain they are here."
The elevator door opened with a light beep, and Sora's eyes widened at the sight before him. A well-lit hallway of blinding white greeted him with a seemingly endless number of doors lined down the hall. At the very end, a set of dark oak double doors sat with a lavish red rope which sealed it away. There was also two guards standing rigidly by the double doors, but their features were indistinguishable due their concealing attire.
I've never seen this part of the hotel... I never knew there was so much space under the top floors.
Sora felt more apprehensive by the moment, and was about to turn and ask his guide if he could come back another day, when the heavy-set men took out an electronic card and walked down the hall. He stopped before an unmarked door, and unlocked it with the card. He pointedly waited for Sora, so the young man had no choice but to be ushered in a shadowy room.
"Hey, looked who showed up," a male with shocking crimson hair called out from his place behind a miniature bar counter. A middle-aged man with a fair complexion raised his glass towards the newcomers.
"Long time no see Xaldin, what brings you down here?" Sora wasn't sure, but he thought he could detect a certain bitterness in the man's comment.
"Axel, I want you to take care of him. The kid here found something interesting in the dumpster. He works for me, so it's alright. It would have been sooner or later."
The head chief patted Sora's shoulder in assurance, and then promptly departed.
The teen did not even have the time to protest, nor wonder why his employer was referred to as 'Xaldin'. His sky blue eyes scanned the occupants of the room uneasily. There was one behind the counter, one sitting at the bar, and two more on couches.
"It's been hella long since we've seen a new face. Yo, my name's Axel, and I'm gonna be your good buddy for awhile," the red head greeted him while he poured something. He motioned at one of the bar stools, and Sora obligingly sat down.
"Whacha got there?" Axel looked at the plastic bag the brunette was holding onto.
Sora swallowed his insecurities and doubt, and told him the same thing he told the restaurant owner. As he got to the part where he pulled out the cloak, the blonde man next to him choked lightly on his drink.
"Didn't leave any evidence Marluxia? Looks like luck was not on your side this time," he called to the shadowy figure who rested on the couch.
"Kids these days are too curious for their own good." Sora's eyes widened with stark realization. That voice. It was the same one he heard outside.
The youth turned and stared at the outline of a man. Said male smirked back with a malicious glint in his eyes. He got up slowly, and walked towards the stupefied teen.
He… he's the one that threw away the cloak! The cloak with the dried blood… could he be a… murderer?
"You may call me Marluxia. And next time, you should mind your own damn business," he said in a false sugary tone. Sora swallowed hard. The guy positively radiated a killer aura, and it rendered him immobile with terror.
Shit! What the hell is he gonna do to me?
The pale-haired man took a seat next to the blonde man.
"Hey, chill out Marly. He's one of us now. Don't scare him off before he starts," the man named Axel called out as he leaned against the counter. With a practiced ease, he slid a glass of amber content towards Sora. The slender male leaped across the slick wooden surface to the side Sora was sitting.
"Drink up. You look like somebody's goin' to do you in."
"B-but I'm underage," the youth protested. Truthfully, he just did not want to drink something that the suspicious character made.
"Loosen up, little man," Axel replied back with a smile. A smile that had an underlying threat: drink it... or else.
Sora reasoned that he might resort to violent methods if he refused once more. So with a small prayer, he drank it. The alcohol made a burning trail down his throat, and his eyes watered from the strong liquor.
"Axel, please restrain yourself from corrupting the youth of this generation with more alcohol," the blonde man half-heartedly complained. Axel just grinned wider, and dragged the recovering Sora towards the man.
"This guy is Luxord. He's the big-time gambler of our group, hella good at playing cards. A usual run by him in the casinos will probably get us twenty thousand," with that said, Axel led him towards the couches.
A blue-eyed female was sharpening her nails with a metal filer, and only looked up briefly when the two approached.
"And this… is our residential bitch."
Right after the words came out of his mouth, the woman, with a flick of her wrist, sent the metal nail filer straight at Axel's throat. Sora looked on in amazement, as the lanky male twisted out of the way, and deftly caught the projectile with his teeth.
"Lozhing jour touch Larxene?" he taunted with the filer still in mouth.
"Shut the fuck up. You're damn lucky those cocktails are working, or else I would have ripped you another asshole."
Axel chuckled lightly as if it the previous incident was nothing more than playful banter between two friendly colleagues.
"Larxene's our sadistic interrogator. She is able to make the most tight-lipped prisoner sing after an hour or so. She's really good at the throwing shit, as you probably noticed,"Axel dryly commented as he threw the filer back, and gestured towards the silent male who was introduced as Marluxia.
"Marly over there is our top assassin, and will get moody if you bother him too much. He's like the king of the underground network, with his drug-dealing posse and crew of pimps. I gotta hook you up with some of the shit he carries, it's great stuff," Axel casually pushed Sora down on a couch and draped one arm over the slight teen's shoulders.
"So Sora, is that your name? What are you good at?"
"Good at?" Sora parroted dumbly. The alcohol seemed to have taken effect on his mind. Axel's words flowed smoothly in one ear, got jumbled up in his head, and he couldn't even sort his own thoughts out.
"Ah, in other words, what is your area of expertise?" Luxord asked from his spot at the bar.
"I go to the University of Bastion, and I major in criminal investigation," Sora mumbled.
"Ah… that's good an' all, but that's your other life. In here, with this group, you have another life, so what's your job?" Axel questioned further, with a slight frown on his face.
"The kid's an innocent Axel," Larxene said from her reclined position across from the two, "Xaldin gave us a newbie to work with."
"What? No way! Hey, you really never did anything before?" Axel twisted around to gaze at Sora with an intrigued expression.
"I once filched a CD from the music store," the hapless teen hiccupped among the stifled laughter of the blonde female. Axel, with an astounded look, backed away from the intoxicated youth and just gaped silently. Larxene got up from her couch and walked over with a suggestive sway of the hips. She straddled Sora's hips and pressed her full chest tightly to his. Her fingers roamed wantonly over the young body, and she purred.
"Oh, so that means I get to play with a brand-new toy," she whispered coyly as she glanced at Axel, "and not a lousy hand-me down." The red head glared hotly at the blonde and said nothing.
Sora was becoming very uncomfortable with the situation. His head is buzzing, and his body responded in disturbing ways to the woman on top of him. He looked up with a desperate plea and saw a pair of azure.
Blue eyes?
"No… Kairi…" Sora muttered right before he lost consciousness.
"Kairi? Who's that?" Larxene cocked her head curiously as she stroked a painted nail over his smooth cheek.
"Who knows? But it must sucks to be you." Axel seemed to regain back some of his usual cockiness.
"Why?"
"He said another chick's name when you were about to screw around with him."
"Fuck off."
Notes: Ah... my head hurts from all the plot possibilities... I actually don't know where I want to go with this plot wise, I just know some scenarios I want to write about. And I really want it to resemble Ocean's Eleven.. Twelve... or whatever number it's on.
Erm, don't worry if you don't know what the heck Marluxia was saying when he was threatening the president, it'll make sense alot later.
It's kinda pathetic Sora would pass out like that... but I guess the liquor is strong... and it was a huge shock to discover you're working for an underground mafia.
