Chapter 3: Mischievous Poisons
Tearing the request with a smirk, the leader glanced at his unfinished homework, doing it half-heartedly despite knowing all of the answers. Too smart, they would notice, but too stupid, they would also notice. Therefore, smart with just the right amount of stupidity.
"Oo-aniki?" Rang from the room as the leader answered, eyes still on his homework, the lead pencil scribbling without pause.
"It's open, come in."
Permission received, Renkotsu entered, donned in his training robes, just like the leader, armor and all strapped on. Pointing to the pile to his right, Bankotsu spoke with his authoritative voice, pencil pointed as he looked over the biology questions with a scan, making sure that the ones that were suppose to be wrong were so, and the right with the same respectively.
"These are acceptable requests with our schedules. Give the others a copy of each with the general information for each a week before, so we prepare for them beforehand. The others, I disposed of." The leader ordered, as he looked up at his second-in-command who looked over the list for a moment before nodding, as it was to his expectations. "Are the others downstairs?"
"Yes, oo-aniki." The bald man nodded as the leader exited the room, the older following. "The others have assembled as you have ordered. I think this is a good idea, oo-aniki. For us to work on our formation that is."
"For our next hit?" Bankotsu guessed, the older nodding.
"Yes." Renkotsu nodded, elaborating. "It is an order from a world leader, who has requested to be an anonymity, willing to pay three times our minimum price. They requested assistance in the civil war that is currently uprooting in their nation."
"Which?" Bankotsu supplied, as the two walked toward the hidden elevator.
"Russia, oo-aniki." Renkotsu replied, handing the youngest a tablet.
Flipping through it with a calloused finger, the boy smirked, as he scanned the details, apparently, they were to assist in the communist side. The money that they had to have gathered must have been their every cent. Not like it was their's to begin with anyway. Thoughts trailing to the past once more, the leader recalled the beginning of the chaotic era they currently dwelled in.
Ever since the disappearance nuclear weaponry from all that possessed it, the nations were scurrying in search for a replacement of mass destruction and found it: humans themselves. Which nation had the best of the best, and had the capabilities to over the others without weapons of mass destruction. Any weaponry that was developed past the feudal times was obsolete, the most recent weaponry available being the 18th century cannon, bayonets, and simple one-shot rifles. Every other technological invention in regards of military weaponry, other than the internet, was forgone.
Seriously underdeveloped militarily, the nations left the fighting to those who did it all their lives: assassins and mercenaries.
But none was more feared and more efficient than Shichinintai, The Seven Man Army; or the Band of Seven. Rumored to and could, the seven did the work of a hundred men, their hits and raids savage and cruel but the job never failed to be done. And that was what made them the best. The seven had a minimum price in gold, not trusting in currencies for exchanges, and communicated through messengers and the most secure of email and phone calls.
None have ever seen the seven, other than their number and the signature that they were infamous for, from their earliest exploits to their most recent rampage. The mark of seven.
And it was that, that the officers currently saw before them.
In the center of the seven markings was a four-pointed cross, almost star-like in shape. However, the star was not one that others wished upon for their saving starlight. It was the star that symbolized the death and bloodshed that it left such unholy destruction in it's wake as it traveled over the skies of the world, knowing no pause or stop in it's madness.
To the left of the center, was a pair of fangs, bared and ready to inject their dripping venom into their prey. Lithe and silent, the fangs portrayed the illusion that the men may be outnumbered in amount but it made no indication of their power, striking when the time is correct for them and once they had their fangs out, the prey was already dead before them.
In the opposite side, glared a pair of what appeared to be two tendrils of flames with a small dragon head in the center, the beast best known for it's mythological power and mastery of the flames. Rather than being a creature of wisdom and age, the dragon in the blood was cruel and bore no compassion for the weak, only spitting fire and destruction in it's wake.
Beside the fangs, was curled ribbons, thick then thin until they disappeared, four in total, harmless at first glance but the ribbons were filled with deception. Like the one who bore them, the ribbons would tighten with deathly grip or loosely do so with morose inches to the gates; dependent on the master's choosing in fatal poisons.
Opposing the ribbons was six daggers, all pointed within themselves as the points dripped blood with sadistic pleasure. Angry, the points introvert as if to hurt even the wielder, and all those around him without whim or mind, not that it was hard to gauge from the slaughter below.
Finally, bracketing the other five was two other markings.
On the far right, was a sole marking, resembling a circular razor blade, the blade was empty within, as if to signify the emptiness of it's relation to anyone. However, shifted to the side of attacking the front, the emptiness was filled with contentment as the blade had something to fight for and with the lust which the blade called upon, it was yet to begin to be sated.
Lastly on the far left, was a sole marking dripping with the fresh blood that the others too had been painted with. Pointed toward the others, the marking resembled a dart, a small protruding indent out the main body. But it was oddly thrown. As if to maximize pain and indent torture, it was no killing blow.
Then why?
As if to answer the question, a pale-faced crime scene forensic broke the silence.
"Officers?" She said, as every head turned to her. "I-It appears that some —er, — parts, of the bodies of the workers in the ground floor are missing."
"W-What?" The newbie whispered.
"Pieces, such as the torso, limbs, and even some heads. Gone." She reported, looking almost sick from just the recall itself.
"Post-mortem, right?" One officer asked, as he received silence in answer.
"And the second floor victims?" The senior officer ordered after the quiet, his face sickened with concealed horror. "What of them?"
"T-The body parts were all dead within the same time frame, but the sole man seemed to die several moments before, each cut including, the b-beheading, when he was still alive." She stuttered, flipping the paper.
"Good God." The newbie whispered.
"And the third?" The pretty little thing questioned, before the senior officer waved her off, not having the heart to allow his men to hear anymore of this devilry, when her voice ran out once more.
"More," She paused in thought as weary gazes turned to her once more.
"Bodies?" Another pause. "Have been found down below."
"Lead the way. Men, you are to be on guard search for any survivors, move out!" The senior officer bellowed, as he gestured his men below, leaving the fourth floor as the newbie neared the woman who wore a troubled look.
"What's wrong?" The young man asked, catching up to her.
Exiting the elevator, the newbie found his answer. Blood and white foam that was thought to be only found in movies, covered the white tiles as bodies swam like lilies in the red sea. Glinting as if to greeting the officers of their discovery, emptied syringes smiled as if to say, what survivors?
Just what kind of humans were they?
They were humans, of course. And as humans, they were unpredictable.
And that's exactly what it is one is suppose to expect. Just as Bankotsu did when he found Hibiki and Usui before him, the latter, a young man who once may have been a strong man of confidence. But half of his body was horrendously disfigured, short orange hair splayed as the disfigured half was covered with metal, body rebuilt from many parts and shaped to fit his humanoid form. Both of them were dressed in ebony robes that blended well into the night as the bald teen turned to the braided boy.
"What's the plan?" Hibiki snapped, his eyes cold. "We don't have a lot of time to make our escape."
Nodding with a grunt, the braided boy turned away from the two, nodding to Jakotsu. "Looks like we're going to leave sooner than you think, get everything ready, Jakotsu."
"Yes, oo-aniki." Jakotsu chirped, bounding up as he packed several things.
"Now then," Bankotsu smirked as he turned back to the two, handing them a thin bag filled with ebony charcoal. "Let's start."
The Head Monk knelt in the silent moonlight, rosary in his praying hands as he allowed his mind to seek peace, the golden Buddha before him smiling in content at his loyal follower. Soft footsteps colored silence as the aged monk remained unmoved, well aware that his apprentice had arrived.
Seating himself beside his master, the young teen kept to his silence.
"Where were you at such a late hour?"
The boy made no answer to such a question but instead voiced one.
"Why do we pray to the Buddha?"
Surprised at the question, the Head Monk was silent before he answered, deciding to put off his question. "To seek out salvation and enlightenment; so that we could once more be reincarnated into humans to continue our worship of serving Buddha."
A soft chuckle. Opening his eyes, the Head Monk found not only his apprentice. By his side was a much older boy and Bankotsu, the young boy that the nuns favored for his cherub-like looks. And there was nothing cherub-like in them no longer. Instead, in the orbs of the children before him was filled with unsatisfied blood lust; none less thirst filled than the other.
"Now that I hear it again, I realize how foolish I was." Hibiki scoffed scathingly as he neared his former master. "To believe that my so-called 'sins' were 'forgiven' and that I would be reincarnated into a human once more. What a joke."
"Hibiki." The Head Monk accused with anger lacing his voice. "What is the meaning of this? Do you have any idea what you are doing and before whom you are doing this before?!"
"I am well aware!" Hibiki shot back, almost hysterically as the Head Monk widened his orbs at the teen's words; Bankotsu watching beside Usui with a cold, almost morose expression. "It is before the deceitful bastard that took me from the home where I could have saved my best friend from his accident! But instead, you lied to me! And told me that he was dead!"
"When in actuality," Hibiki bellowed with a anguish-filled cry, as he turned to Usui, who looked away almost shamefully; as the Head Monk froze at his apprentice's words. "He was alive, with half of his body blown to bits!"
"U-Usui?" The Head Monk called out with a whisper as the man lifted his hood, revealing his half-mechanical face, the jaw replaced with a metal one, into the moonlight.
"Gesh." Usui spoke. "H-Hello, Father."
Before the Head Monk spoke, Hibiki cut in, soft tears running down his face. "Don't you fucking dare."
"You have no right to call him that. He is not your son and neither was I. I thought that I could have closed up the pain when I believed he was dead, but one day, Usui found me. I was so terrified that I thought I had passed into the land of the dead. But, only to find that you killed him!" Hibiki raged as the Head Monk fell to his knees, eyes no longer seeing. "You were unable to see that your son was going to join the wars, so you decided that since he was so easily going to die, might as well die now! And then you had the fucking audacity to take me in from the orphanage after you set it alight."
"Don't you fucking dare." Hibiki cried as he too fell to his knees, in tears; Usui nearing with a helping hand. After a short moment, the bald teen recalled his composure, brushing aside the assistance with a soft push.
"I'm fine."
Understanding the implications of that, Usui nodded, brushing aside a stray tear from his single orb. "Gesh, Renkotsu no aniki."
Smiling softly at the newly chosen name, Renkotsu nodded. "And the same to you, Ginkotsu."
"Renkotsu. Ginkotsu."
All turning to the youngest boy, who regarded them with a solemn look that looked too old for his age; cobalt orbs glaring, lips pulled to a soft frown, and his braid dangling with a mischievous twinkle; the boy smirked as spoke. "The authorities should be arriving soon. We are on a time schedule."
"Make it quick." The boy smiled, his dimple indicating anything but what he said. And with a fluid leap, the boy was gone.
"Thank you, oo-aniki." Renkotsu whispered, as the former apprentice turned to his former master, fear coursing through the old man's veins as the teen spoke.
"I seem to recall, that you asked why I burned those animals. Allow me to enlighten you."
Shukaku kept his head down as he trudged down the hall of the mediocre hospital he worked at, his face considered too horrendous for others to consider him to be their physician. Sighing once more at the curse that was his appearance, he entered his work space, a research room working with making antidotes and anti-venoms for the hospitals.
Why was he consolidated to this meager work? When he could be doing so much more than manufacturing solutions for those handsome and young doctors to receive all the credit for his work?
It was all because of his face.
Because he looked like this. It was not like he chose to look like this. It was just the way he was born. Even though his work was brilliant, they said, his face and appearance would bring in more problems than the credibility his work would ever do. Resigning himself to the night of mindless work, the fifty-four year old man was on his way to get a coffee when the burst of the doors from entrance to emergency wing, a handsome doctor was waving others away as he helped the nurses push a stretcher through, his face contorted until a desperate one that all in his profession recognized and hated to wear.
A child. One that was on the verge of dying.
Naoto. If Shukaku recalled correctly, the most recent addition of the pediatrics from the mainland. Young and handsome, he was one of the most coveted of the staff, especially the ladies. Growling in envy, the short man shook the thought away, instead taking interest to the child.
Tan skin pale, the boy was no more than eleven years old. Thin and small for his age, cobalt orbs darted almost lazily as the boy breathed laboriously into the oxygen mask over his small face. Minor burns covered the boy's exposed flesh, his once white hakama, now an ashen grey. Soft ebony bangs framed his face as he breathed, the ends finishing at a small loosened black braid.
The boy would be a looker if he survived. Shukaku thought as he made away only to have the handsome doctor gesture him over. Pointing to himself to receive a nod in response, the researcher ran over as fast as his legs were able, his eye-like eyes questioning.
"You are Dr. Shukaku of the Toxicology Department, correct?"
"Yes." The said person replied, albeit cautious.
Gesturing to the boy, Naoto spoke quickly. "We are understaffed tonight and a fire has broken out in the monastery nearby, can you take over this boy for me?"
A quick nod received, the taller gave out vitals immediately. "His vitals are normal with some expected off-scale proportions, but we feared that he has inhaled too much carbon monoxide, so go over the normal procedures and see if he has any symptoms of poisoning." And with that, the handsome doctor was off, a nurse following him as one stayed.
Glancing at the boy who now stared at him weakly, the researcher turned to the nurse. "You heard him. Let's go!"
And off they came to the ER wing, settling on the farthest corner of the wing.
Administering a thin syringe with the standard, Shukaku rose an eyebrow as the boy made no indication of feeling the needle entering his arm, nor the fear in his eyes from the sight of a tubing. Brushing aside the boy as brave, the man went to work on the things he had dreamed to take part in, the nurse bandaging his minor burns before he dismissed her, her disgust of his appearance disguised poorly.
BPM, normal, although slightly high. BP, normal. Complexion, pale but color was returning. Oxygen intake, two notches above normal. Temperature, slightly high. But considering the boy was just in a fire, it was normal.
Seating himself by the boy for a moment to rest, Shukaku turned to his charge, only to find with surprise, bright cobalt eyes staring back at him. Colored with intrigue and mirth, the boy smirked at him, as if he knew something that he didn't. Blinking, the middle-aged man stared back at the boy, until the boy gestured to a nod to something behind him. Turning to the object, the man found it to be a curtain. As if compelled by an invisible force, Shukaku found himself alone with the boy, who was smiling softly as a curtain contained the two, ensuing privacy.
Lifting the mask slightly, the boy cocked his head with a small smirk.
"Who are you?" His voice was light and child-like yet alluringly commanding even through the breathing mask.
"I am Dr. Shukaku, a researcher of the Toxicology Department in this hospital." The said person introduced himself, seating himself once more. "And you, child?"
"I am Bankotsu, or otherwise known as oo-aniki to my brothers." The boy introduced himself. "I won't suppose you have seen them?"
"Are they younger than you?" Receiving a shake in response, the researcher tried again, doubt alining his words. "Older?"
"Very." Bankotsu replied, making the older raise an eyebrow as the boy elaborated with a slight smile. "One is four years older, the others, seven and thirteen. We are a rather mixed up group, now that I think about it."
Seeing the man's surprised expression, the boy shook his head.
"We're not biologically related." Bankotsu deadpanned as his voice grew dark. "But rather, we are related in our lust for blood."
"What?" Shukaku whispered, his bug-like eyes surprised as the boy smirked darkly behind his mask, the breathing machine's whirring ignored.
"Yes, something you share, don't you; Doctor?" The boy all but interrogated with a smile. "And from what you have told me, your victims have no idea that they were poisoned. And that you watched them, slowly until they died, choking and having no idea it was all because of you."
"How did you—?"
But the child merely continued. "And nothing too flashy, of course. That would be too obvious, right; Doctor?"
The doctor was silent before he pointed a clear, filled syringe at the boy; ready to enter with the flick of a wrist into the boy's IV. Black beady orbs glared into amused cobalt ones as the doctor hissed at the boy.
"Just what is it that you want from me, boy?"
"To join me and my brothers." The said boy replied without hesitation, smirk growing with every word. "To allow others like us, who relish the thrill of watching life leave the eyes of the weak and kill without bounds to do so. And to do as I please without the need to worry about anything superficial like appearances, or anything of the fickle sort."
Syringe lowered, the doctor hesitated before he spoke once more. "And if I refuse?"
"Will I kill you?" Bankotsu shot, still amused as he shook his head. "No. You are free to choose as you please, I will not force you if you do not want to uptake me in my offer."
As if to symbolize the cease of their current dealings, the curtain was ripped open to reveal three males, all ranging the ages of the boy's brothers, which the researcher looked over with a keen eye. The youngest who appeared to be the most concerned, was donned in an ashen hakama as well, slightly pale but his hair bun mussed as a blue butterfly pin held it in place. Minor bandages covered his exposed flesh as well, faring better than the braided boy by his side, but what caught the researcher's eyes were his painted lips, a bright red. How odd. Was this what Bankotsu was referring to when he said appearances?
The middle was a young monk who too escaped with little burns, minor but no worse than the other two as he wore a concerned look at the boy, dressed in singed ebony monk robes. He appeared kind enough to bypass suspicion, and if the boy had not informed him that the brothers were blood lustful like himself, he wouldn't have seen it. The blood thirst that they all embraced. The eldest however, was an enigma, as his clothing of thin ebony robes covered his person as if to conceal, a hood covering half of his face. The half, he could see though, revealed a worried orb and short, coarse orange locks.
"Oo-aniki!" The hair-pinned one cried as he neared the boy, the younger one smiling behind the mask. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Ja." The youngest smirked with mirth, before letting out a series of coughs into the breathing mask, smiling sheepishly at the pointed looks he was given when he recovered. "Or maybe not."
"No, you're not; young man." A kind voice insisted in almost a whimsical nature, as Shukaku and the brothers turned to see Naoto, followed by three interns. "Looking at your charts that my nurse has done, you are going to be kept here for a night, just as a precautionary, for oxygen depletion."
"Nurse?" Shukaku questioned, his eyes confused as the brothers shot glances to the youngest who merely sent a glance back, as if to say, just watch; the conversation continuing. "The nurse that you sent with me left an hour ago. I was the one who filled out the charts and checked the boy's vitals!"
In the midst of the conversation, Bankotsu smirked ever so slightly as he turned to his brothers, winking before his cobalt orbs fell back into his skull; his small body stilled.
Jakotsu was about to spring forward when his newly joined brother, Renkotsu and Ginkotsu, pulled him back, the former of the two whispering to the second-youngest. "Oo-aniki is planning something, so act accordingly."
Nodding, the second youngest awaited, although bitingly.
"What are you talking about?" Naoto shot back confusedly, before gripping his clipboard with annoyance. "I merely asked you to accompany my nurse. Not to do the charts! You are stepping out of line! How dare you, a mere researcher, try to take responsibility a physician does!"
"Dr. Naoto!" An intern of soft and kind features, cut in, his eyes pointed to the patient they were arguing over. "The boy!"
All turning to the boy, eyes widened immediately.
The small braided boy was no longer awake but, unconscious as his body shook. Convulsed in a spasm, the boy was in a seizure, his limbs twisting and bending in violent directions. Moving to hold the boy down, the intern yelled at the shocked physicians around him, snapping them out of their stupors.
The carbon monoxide! Shukaku thought, as he knelt to increase the oxygen dosages, adding a asthmatic solution for better breathing. He wasn't taking in enough oxygen to replace it, and he was talking to me; making the amount even less than what was deemed safe! Of course, he started to have convulsions! Dammit!
You'd better not die! The researcher thought as he closed the nozzle. You can't! When you, didn't even notice how ugly I was, only my work…
"Bankotsu!" Jakotsu cried as he dove for his brother, the other two holding him back with a surprised glance at the boy's strength.
"Get the family outside!" Naoto yelled as his eyes shifted from the intern to the researcher madly, his other two interns watching still frozen. Goddammit. Nothing was going right.
On the contrary, as Bankotsu awoke, all was going well.
Noting his white hospital gown, the eleven-year-old took in his surroundings quickly, noting the moonlight filtering in with a soft glow. With a tube under his nostrils, an IV in his arm, a heart monitor over his chest, and bandages over his minor burns; nothing was out of place. Slumped in chairs in a row, seated his brothers in chronological order; all asleep.
"You're awake."
"Yes." Bankotsu answered, his voice slightly hoarse but otherwise fine as the boy shifted his sheets over his frame, propping the pillows for him to face the researcher who had seated himself to his left, nearest to the door, his brothers in the other side.
"You had a seizure from the carbon monoxide in the fire." The researcher supplied bluntly, before continuing, most definitely confused. "You are stable now, and should be able to leave by tomorrow morning as Naoto would want to watch you overnight in case of a relapse."
"Don't you mean you wanted that, Doctor?" Bankotsu inquired with a shrug at the man's dumbfounded expression. "You are correct, that I had a seizure, but it was intentional."
"What?" Shukaku whispered.
"What?" Bankotsu echoed with a smirk. "Once I heard that physician speak to you, it was obvious that, that doctor was planning to take the credit for assisting me. And being the 'helpless' patient, I couldn't insist that you were actually the one who did so. They would have insisted that I was delusional. So, I held my breath, building the carbon monoxide as I took in less oxygen until I passed out."
"Y-You did that for me?"
Bankotsu shrugged. "I was going to be kept overnight anyway. So might as well make it a bit exciting."
This boy. Shukaku thought. Placed his health and well-being in risk just to help him. A stranger that he barely knew, just because he was just like him, who loved the thrill and the lustful pleasure that bloodshed gave them. Why? Why would he?
"Why would I go to such extents for you?" Bankotsu worded out loud as the man found the little boy turn to him with a child-like smirk, cobalt orbs twinkling with mischief.
"Because I want to." And that was all the reason he needed.