Planning a Murder
Despite the throb in his thigh, Charles decided to go to the shooting range after work. He'd thought … hoped … Ares would've responded to his message, but he didn't. It was fine. Fine. He'd just focus on doing his own thing, getting better at killing. He was selfish anyway, right? If Ares didn't want to talk to him, it was fine. Fuck. It wasn't fine. It wasn't fine at all. He was a nervous fucking wreck, and he was so fucking scared Ares would never come home again.
No. He's mine. I am not letting him go. I don't know how the hell I'll do it, but I'll go hunt his ass down if I have to.
He stopped outside of the shooting range, grip tightening on his gun case. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside. The asari stood in front of a free-standing shelf next to the counter, just a little way to the left of the door, stocking the shelf with clay pigeons from a box next to her feet. At the back of the room, the door to the range stood open, but Charles didn't hear any gunfire.
Looking over her shoulder, she nodded at him in greeting. "Back for some practice?"
Charles nodded, clearing his throat a little before speaking, "Yes, ma'am." He stayed there, standing just inside the doorway as he watched her.
She sat down the clay pigeons in her hand and nudged the box over closer to the shelf with her foot. Jerking her head toward the counter, she headed for it, back to him as she said, "You planning on using the paper targets this time, too?"
Following her over to the counter, he pursed his lips. He was a bit curious to know what other options there were, but he figured it'd probably be best for him to stick to something simple for the time being. After a second, he nodded again. "Yes, ma'am."
"You alone? Or expecting someone else to meet up with you?" she asked as she stepped over to the safe where she kept the key cards to the range.
Taking a slow breath, trying to ease his nerves and the internal battle over Ares still being fought within himself. He shook his head. "It's just me today."
"That's fine. It's usually better when it's quieter anyways," she said as she dropped the key card on the counter. It made a light click against the glass as it landed, and she pushed it over to him. "Saelus is working back there, but he should have at least a range free for you."
He picked up the card, hesitating as he glanced back at the open door. "Oh … I can wait, I don't want to rush him." And he didn't really want an audience. "What do I owe you?"
"Raetor didn't tell you?" She lifted an eyebrow, leaning an elbow on the counter. "He's got you covered. Except for buying product, everything's free."
"I carry your fucking ass since we met, and all I ask for is time to have my own breakdown and you still make it about yourself!" Ares' words echoed in his head.
Letting out a soft huff, Charles shook his head, glancing down at the counter. "Of course he does." He glanced back up at the asari. "Alright, well, thank you, ma'am."
She waved her hand. "Stop calling me ma'am. Call me Deliana." She tilted her chin toward the range. "And you're fine. He's been in there long enough to have at least one cleared for you. You two won't even get in each other's way. And do me a favor and close the door when you get in there."
Charles chuckled, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, card tucked between his fingers. "Okay, Deliana. Thanks again." He glanced toward the opened range door and swallowed before turning away from the counter and making his way over. He stepped through the door and pulled it closed behind him, listening to the soft click and hiss as the door locked.
The turian from before—Saelus, he supposed—peeked around the wall of the second stall and hummed, stepping out and brushing his hands off on his pants. "Here to practice, I take it? I got the first stall ready for you."
Dipping his head, Charles stuck with the simplest response, not really feeling up for conversation. "Yes, sir. Thank you." He made his way over to the table holding the earmuffs and eyewear before glancing over his shoulder at the turian. "You sure you don't mind if I shoot while you're in here?"
Saelus shook his head, walking over to the table and grabbing his own pair of earmuffs. "Not at all. It's what the range is for."
Charles gave him a smile, though he figured it probably looked as fake as it felt just then. Picking up earmuffs and eyewear designed for a human, he made his way over to the first stall and sat his gun case down on the counter. It took him a second to figure out the kiosk, but once he did, he moved the target in closer until he thought it was at about the same distance as Ares put it before.
Turning back to the counter, he opened his gun case and ran his fingers over the pistol before slipping his earmuffs and eyewear on. He picked up the gun, watching as it unfolded itself, waiting for the pieces to all snap into place before he lifted the weapon, taking aim. Sliding his thumb over the safety, he pushed it down. He took his time, taking a few, deep breaths and lining up his shot before he squeezed the trigger. Waiting for a second to make sure the recoil wouldn't affect his next shot, he barely paid attention to where the first landed before taking his second. He found a certain peace in the muffled bark of his pistol, the recoil in his palm, the faint, tangy odor of burning metal and oxygen. It calmed something inside of him, brought the rest of the world back into focus.
Charles sat on his couch, Eezo curled in against his side, sound asleep. The news played on the vidscreen, turned down low as he moved through his list, choosing his next target. Authorities were still looking into the deaths of Aiden and Ethan, and although a handful of people were brought in for questioning, they still didn't have any promising leads.
He stopped on David Walsh's profile again, something about the man calling Charles back to him for the third time in a half-hour. His crimes weren't so bad compared to some of the others—he'd sexually assaulted an asari, threatening her with a knife, but according to her statement given to C-Sec, a drell intervened and saved her before David actually hurt her. C-Sec didn't have enough evidence to make the charges stick, so they ended up letting him go.
Something about him, though, the look in his eyes …. Charles thought David had his own beast, hiding away in the back of his mind, and it pulled at Charles. Challenged his beast. David was the one. He'd die next.
Moving through the programs, Charles tracked down as much information about David as he could find. The man worked in a skycar lot in the Edroki Plaza on the Kithoi Ward, he'd started there after the asari's accusations drove him away from his previous job in tech support at D'Vernia Solutions. Twenty-eight years old, David stood five foot eleven and weighed a hundred and sixty pounds. He was single, never married, no children, and he lived alone in a studio apartment in one of the small, residential areas of Kithoi Ward. He traveled in a personal skycar—a midnight blue Elkoss Aeromax, standard features—which he kept parked in the public garage across the street from his apartment complex.
It looked like David kept pretty regular work hours, and his routine seemed relatively fixed. Charles tapped into the man's accounts, looking over his purchases. It looked like the man spent most of his time at home and at work, very rarely did he eat out or visit bars. On his day off, he went to the theater pretty regularly, but the time of day varied. He made a lot of purchases online … mostly asari porn and video games.
Charles ran a check on David's extranet activity, having lifted his EP address from the details of one of his online purchases. The man was into some seriously fucked up shit. He found snuff vids—which that alone Charles couldn't really judge the man on, but the ones David was into all seemed to involve innocent, young asari—an extranet site that claimed to be able to teach users how to force and control a meld with an asari, and a site that talked about harvesting the blood of asari to prolong human life. Obviously, it was all bullshit, but David seemed to be really into it, and he visited those sites a lot.
His omni-tool pinged, a message notification popping up on his screen, and Charles' heart thumped hard against his sternum. Recognizing Ares' contact details, he opened the message.
"Don't worry about it."
"Don't worry about it."
Charles read the words, again and again, looking at them several times throughout the day. One minute they made him feel relieved, the next hurt and angry and scared. Cammus hummed, drawing Charles' attention away from the omni-tool. The turian watched him, flicking his mandibles.
"What?" Charles asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"What are you doing after work tonight?" Cammus flared his mandibles, leaning forward to fold his arms over the breakroom table.
Planning a murder.
Charles shrugged, closing his omni-tool. "Nothing."
"Then you're coming with me." Cammus smirked, giving him a decisive nod.
Snorting, Charles smiled. "Is that so?"
"Yes, it is." Cammus rumbled, the sound light and playful.
"Uh huh." Charles turned a little more toward the turian, draping his arm over the back of the chair. "And where are we going?"
Flicking a mandible, Cammus said, "The gym."
Surprise must've shown all over Charles' face because Cammus let out a bark of laughter. Charles grinned, forgetting for a few seconds how confused Ares' message left him feeling. He liked the sound of Cammus' laughter, the dual-tone flanging adding an almost musical quality. It didn't lift his spirits the same way Ares' laughter did, but it definitely made it easier to smile again.
"Not what I expected," Charles said, turning his hands palm out, "but I have been meaning to get in there more often."
"Good." Cammus fluttered his mandibles and smiled. "I thought I was going to have to argue to convince you to go." He raised a brow ridge. "Thought you might plan to spend your whole night staring at that message and making yourself angry."
Charles huffed, pulling his cigarillos from his pocket. "You've got a little bit of a feisty streak, don't you?"
Grinning, Cammus leaned back in his chair. "Hmmm. Maybe."
Charles glanced up at the turian using the leg machine across the aisle from him. "Cammus." He waited for Cammus to look at him before licking his lips and continuing, "Teach me to fight."
Cammus flared his mandibles, rumbling just loud enough for Charles to hear across the way. "Why ask me and not your mate?"
"I did ask him, it was his idea to ask you." Charles pressed his forearms against the padding, pulling the metal bars together against the tension of the weights.
"Hmm. He doesn't want to teach you himself?" Cammus paused in his exercise to watch Charles a moment.
"He taught me a couple of things, but he's so much bigger than I am …." Charles trailed off as he brought the bars back together again.
Cammus resumed, pushing his thighs against the leg holds of the machine, drawing them together. "I don't really know anything about human fighting styles."
"So, I'll learn a turian fighting style." Charles smirked. "With a little less talons and teeth involved."
Chuckling, Cammus fluttered his mandibles and let the weights slide back into place before standing up. "Alright. Let's go."
"Now?" Charles raised an eyebrow, easing his arms back to his sides so the weights dropped.
"Why not?" Picking up his towel, Cammus threw it over his cowl.
Charles stood up, grabbing his own towel and wiping his face before draping it around his neck. "Alright."
Cammus led him through the building back to an opened floor gym, mats laid out around the room. The place Cammus took him seemed to be mostly a turian facility, though Charles did see a few other species mulling about. In the gym itself, though, he saw nothing but turians, partnered off and sparing on the mats. Feral sounding growls filled the air, pained hisses and grunts. More than a few heads turned his way as he followed Cammus over to an empty mat, and suddenly, Charles wasn't so sure of himself.
Stopping next to the mat, Cammus pulled off his shoes and gestured at Charles'. "Take those off, the cloth things you wear underneath, too."
"Socks," Charles muttered, kicking off his shoes and glancing around again, finding even more people watching him.
Cammus' mandibles fluttered in a way that made Charles think he was nervous. He stepped onto the mat, turning to face Charles before glancing around the room, meeting the gaze of a few of the turians watching. Clearing his throat, he turned back to Charles and looked him over. "We'll start with your stance. Your legs are different than a turian's, and your center of gravity won't be the same so you may have to adjust a little. It might feel unusual, but it shouldn't be uncomfortable."
He fell into a stance, one leg slid back behind the other, his body turned at an angle to Charles. His weight seemed to shift between his legs, giving him a sway as he brought his hands up, elbows tucked in against his sides. Leaving his hands open, he curled his fingers in a little, half-way to a fist. He glanced at Charles again and nodded. Charles fought the urge to look around him at the other turians in the room and studied Cammus for a second before shifting his leg back and bringing his hands up.
Cammus flicked a mandible and moved closer to Charles. "You need to relax your knees." He put a hand on Charles' ribs and nudged Charles' left foot with his own. "Bring this leg back a little further if you can." He let out an approving hum when Charles did as he asked. "You want to keep your weight moving, it'll make it easier for you to strike and counter." His toes tapped against the ball of Charles' foot, and he glanced up, meeting Charles' gaze. "Can you lift up onto this part of your foot? Not much, just enough for it to take your weight as you move."
"Yeah," Charles said, doing as Cammus asked, pulling his heels up a hair and shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet.
"Is that comfortable?" Cammus stepped back to look him over again.
Shrugging, Charles tilted his head a little. "It's not uncomfortable. Not yet, at least."
"Fair enough." Cammus fluttered his mandibles, giving Charles a soft smile. He moved closer again, putting his fingers on the back of Charles' elbows, pulling his arms out a little further so his elbows rested more on his chest and less against his sides. "Keep your weight moving." Cammus rumbled, stepping back and taking up the stance in front of Charles. "We kick as much as anything else, it'll help keep you on your feet."
Charles watched Cammus' rhythm, doing his best to mimic the back and forth motion. Cammus darted forward, kicking Charles' right leg out from under him, sending Charles' reeling back, nearly making him fall flat on his ass. Cammus moved back again, giving Charles the chance to right himself.
"It's generally not a good idea to keep your gaze fixed on any one area in a fight, but for now, watch my legs." Cammus reached down, tapping his talons against his left leg. "When you see the kick coming, shift your weight back to your left leg."
Charles nodded, finding that rhythm of movement again and watching Cammus' leg. The turian moved slower, giving Charles the chance to actually see it coming, and he shifted his weight back. The kick still jerked his leg out from under him, and it threw him off balance, but he managed to stay upright.
Nodding, Cammus fluttered his mandibles. "Good," he said, then suddenly turned his head, looking off to his left, mandibles snapping in tight against his jaw.
Charles followed his gaze and saw another turian crossing the floor, headed straight for them. Tall and broad-shouldered, his taupe plates shifted into a dark gray as they moved down his bare chest, deep green markings sweeping over his face. Bare talons clicked across the tile of the floor as he walked. Charles relaxed his stance, turning to face the man as he approached, hackles rising. Cammus shifted, moving closer to Charles' side.
The turian jerked his head back in a nod, gaze focused on Cammus as he neared the mat. "You're teaching the human to fight using our methods?"
"I am," Cammus said, moving to the edge of the mat, putting himself between Charles and the other turian.
The man flared his mandibles, stopping in front of Cammus. "Why?"
"Because he asked," Cammus let out a low rumble, bordering on a growl.
The other turian smirked, saying something too low for Charles to pick up on while he looked down at Cammus. Charles couldn't hear Cammus' response either, but a few seconds later, Cammus rumbled and jerked his head back toward Charles. The man stepped past Cammus and onto the mat, moving toward Charles. Cammus turned to face Charles, body language a little tense but a reassuring smile on his face.
Charles remained quiet and stood still as the turian came to a stop in front of him, looking him over from head to toe. The man's nose plates twitched, mandibles flaring a little before he leaned in a little closer, taking a very obvious sniff of the air around Charles. Letting out a curious sounding rumble, the turian reached out, talon catching on the collar of Charles' shirt. Charles grabbed his wrist, furrowing his brows.
"You want to learn to fight like a turian in this gym, you'll show me your bondmark, human." The turian stared Charles down, green eyes cold and hinting at violence. "Prove you belong to one of us."
Charles smirked, offended, amused, and a little aroused all rolled into one. He dropped his hand from the turian's wrist. Talon sliding along Charles' collarbone, the turian pushed Charles' shirt aside and looked at the scars Ares left in his shoulder. He chuffed, dropping his hand and met Charles' gaze again.
"Where's your mate?" The man asked, taking a couple of steps back from Charles and crossing his arms. He jerked his head back at Cammus. "Why are you here with another turian?"
Charles raised an eyebrow, wanting to tell the man it wasn't any of his damn business, but he kept it to himself. "Traveling. For work." His gaze shifted to Cammus, taking in the light flutter of his mandibles. "We're friends. Coworkers." Smirking again, he raised his eyebrow a little higher. "But if you're asking if my … mate knows that I'm spending time with another man, then the answer's yes, he does, and he approves."
The turian flicked his mandibles, a faint hint of a smile shifting his mouth plates. "What you learn here, you don't take back to your people."
Charles lifted his hand in a mock salute. "Yes, sir."
Chuffing, the turian shook his head and turned, walking away. "Spirits save the turian bonded to you."
Letting out a soft snort, Charles moved over to Cammus, watching the other turian cross the floor. "Who is he?"
"Travium, the owner." Cammus glanced at him. "You still want to do this?"
"Hell, yeah."
Charles hid in the shadows of the parking garage across the way from David's apartment. He'd come by the night before, too, just to watch, but the time for watching was over. He'd already taken care of the garage's cameras, and he did his best to make sure none of the neighboring buildings caught him on vid, either. He had his bag packed with cleanup supplies, and he'd put on all the stupid shit Ares told him to wear. He carried his Stiletto III, his baton, handcuffs, and of course, his razor. He'd also grabbed a roll of tape he found in the back of his closet shelf, just in case. He figured he could use it to tape David's mouth shut or something if he needed to.
His plan was to wait for David to arrive, then knock him out and force him back into his own skycar. Charles would then drive the Aeromax to a warehouse on the Shalta Aroch Ward which was currently closed for construction. He'd already checked the place out and knew exactly how to get inside. All he needed to do was wait.
He hated waiting, especially with the beast pacing the cage inside his head, snarling and demanding to be let out. When the Aeromax finally landed, Charles sucked in a deep breath, a sudden spike of adrenaline hitting his system. Sticking to the shadows, he moved along the wall toward the skycar, pulling his baton out and snapping it opened. Crouching down, he moved between parked skycars, rounding behind the vehicles to approach David from the back.
Hearing the skycar door open, Charles stopped at the back of David's Aeromax, settling his bag on the ground and peering around the edge. He watched as the man climbed out of his skycar, the dome light illuminating his face enough to give Charles a positive ID. Rushing forward, Charles swung the baton, hitting the man in the side of the head. David fell against the skycar, and Charles hit him again, cracking the baton over the back of his skull. The man collapsed, starting to slide down to the garage floor.
Charles grabbed him, pinning him against the skycar and put the handcuffs on him before shoving his limp body into the Aeromax. Glancing around, making sure they were still alone in the garage, Charles retrieved his bag before shifting David around, moving him further over into the passenger seat and climbing inside. He put his bag in the floorboard and started the Aeromax, casting a glance at David and grinning, savoring the purr of the beast.
David started to rouse and struggle against the handcuffs halfway there, and Charles had to hit him again. After that, the man stayed out cold. Charles got them to the warehouse, and after checking to make sure David was still out, he parked the car and opened his omni-tool, scanning for active security features around the building again, just in case. The program picked up nothing. He knew the place had to have some kind of security, but everything came up absent, so he figured the systems must be shut down due to the construction.
Closing his omni-tool, he climbed out of the skycar and bolted over to the building, moving straight for the loading dock. It took him only a few seconds to hack through the lock using the program Ares gave him, and then he hit the button next to the door, heading back to the Aeromax as the loading dock door started sliding open.
Peering through the window, he made sure David was still slumped over in the passenger seat before climbing back inside the skycar. He started it and drove it right into the warehouse, landing the vehicle next to a set of metal shelves bolted to the wall. Climbing out of the car again, he ran back to the door and closed it, leaving him with nothing but the Aeromax's lights to navigate by. The warehouse didn't have any windows, though, so there was nothing keeping him from turning on the lights.
He opened his omni-tool and activated the flashlight app, using it to find the light controls by the door. The first half of the warehouse flooded with light, and Charles made his way back to the skycar. He glanced inside the passenger side window, finding a terrified, dazed set of brown eyes staring back at him.
Fuck.
Charles drew his Stilleto III and held it up where the man could see before opening the door. Stepping back as the door raised, he leveled the gun on David. "Get out."
David's head listed a little, and he blinked. "I don't … I don't have much, but you can have everything in my account. Just … please …."
"I don't want your fucking credits." Charles sucked in a deep breath, trying to still the beast long enough to at least get David secured somewhere where he could work. "Get out of the fucking skycar. Now."
David's lip trembled. "Please … please don't do this."
"For fuck's sake, just get out." Charles rolled his eyes, muscles between his shoulders tense, grip tightening on the gun. "I really don't want to have to shoot you."
"Just tell me what you—"
Rushing forward, Charles grabbed a fistful of David's hair and dragged him from the car, screaming. The beast roared, filling Charles' head with a rush of excitement and a desperation to spill the man's blood. David struggled to scramble to his feet with his hands bound behind his back. Charles kept a good grip on him, kicking the man in the ribs when he rolled over enough to try to sweep Charles' feet out from under him.
Dragging him over to the shelves, Charles hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how he was supposed to get the man handcuffed to the metal bars without him fighting back. David was shorter than Charles, and he weighed less, but he was denser, stronger. While he stood there contemplating, David managed to rip his hair free of Charles' hand, rolling over and kicking him in his still-healing thigh, sending a shock of pain through his leg.
"Sonofabitch." Charles growled and hit the man in the back of the head with the butt of his Stiletto III when David flipped back over and tried to get his feet under him.
The man dropped, face first, onto the floor and let out a groan. Charles bent over him, wrapping his hand around the cuffs and used them to pull David up, dragging him back over to the shelves. He holstered his gun and pulled out the handcuff keys, moving swiftly before the man got his head clear enough to struggle. He unlocked one of the cuffs, pulling David's wrists back around the bar before securing the cuff again.
Stepping back, he took a second to catch his breath and caught sight of blood trailing down David's face from a cut across his eyebrow. It sent a hungry rush through Charles, making the beast salivate. Moving back to the skycar, he got his bag out and brought it back over to the shelves, dropping it on the floor a few feet away from David. He crouched down, digging inside until he found his roll of tape, glad he brought it after all.
With David still out of it, Charles moved over to squat in front of the man and used the tape to bind his ankles together before kneeling on the man's shins, pinning his legs to the ground. Pulling out his razor, Charles flicked his wrist, the beast letting out a restless snarl when the blade slid free. He sliced through the man's shirt, pulling it apart to expose David's chest, and David groaned, head rolling back.
"You with me, David?" Charles asked, throat dry, voice hoarse.
Eyes fluttering open, David focused on Charles and immediately started squirming, trying to break himself free. Charles grinned, reaching out to take a fist full of David's hair and pulled his head back. He brought his razor to David's face, barely making contact before the man screamed and bucked, trying to tear his face away from the bite of the blade. Euphoria flooded Charles, and he dug the blade in deeper, biting his lip as he dragged the razor down the man's cheek, parting skin and fat with such beautiful ease. Blood poured from the wound, sliding down his chin and dripping onto his bare chest.
David blubbered, tears falling to mix with blood, spit pooling in the corners of his mouth. "Who the fuck are you? Why are you doing this?"
Charles hummed, moving his blade over a hair and starting to cut again, savoring the instant wails. Obviously the man—no matter how twisted—wasn't nearly as tough as the bastards who'd raped and beat Charles. No, those men made him work for their screams. It was almost disappointing.
He watched the blood for a few seconds, listening to David pant and gasp for air. "What were you going to do with that asari? She was your coworker, right? She trusted you, thought you were safe, but you tried to force yourself on her in an alley."
"No … no, I never touched her." David tried to shake his head, but it only made him whimper. "There was no proof. C-Sec let me go. There was nothing."
Charles moved to the other side of David's face, and the man flinched, trying to pull away. Tightening his grip on David's hair, Charles held his head still and cut into the blank slate of rosy flesh. The fresh blood and agonized screams made Charles' cock twitch, and he let out a little groan.
He licked his lips. "What were you going to do with that asari?"
"Nothing, I swear." David sobbed, the only thing holding his head upright was Charles' grip on his hair. "Please, stop. Please."
"Liar." Charles cut another swath in the man's face, closing his eyes and letting the screams wash over him, hardening his cock.
"I was going to rape her … and then kill her," David whispered, voice shaking.
Charles opened his eyes, meeting the man's gaze, voice cold when he said, "And that's why you're here with me." He dug the razor into the man's chest, just beneath the collarbone, twisting it back and forth until he felt it scrape across bone and jerked it down.
It tore the absolute, most delicious shriek from the man. A sound so raw and strangled, Charles knew it had to make David's throat bleed a little, and it made Charles close his eyes again while he soaked it in. Cock starting to ache, pressing uncomfortably against his jeans, Charles shifted a little and moaned. When he opened his eyes again, there was so much blood flowing from the man, torrents of it, soaking through the man's clothes and puddling on the floor around him. Charles needed to move back to keep from getting it on his pants, and he knew David wasn't going to last much longer.
Pushing up to his feet, Charles stood over the man, staring down at him, savoring the moment just a few seconds longer. Slowly, he stepped to the side, avoiding the puddle of blood and squatted down next David's bound wrists. Reaching around, he put one hand on the man's forehead, tilting his head back and to the side before wrapping his other hand around the bar to get the angle he needed. With one, clean, quick motion, he slit the man's throat.