Bingo woke up in her old bedroom, blinking groggily as sunlight filtered through the blinds. For a moment, everything felt normal. She yawned and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes. But something felt… off. There was no smell of breakfast wafting from the kitchen, no music playing downstairs, no soft hum of voices. Just silence—cold, suffocating silence.

Her chest tightened as she stood, an unshakable sense of wrongness pressing down on her. She walked slowly to her door, her footsteps unnaturally loud against the stillness. Each step down the hallway made her breathing more labored, her throat dry.

"Mum? Dad? Bluey?" she called out, her voice trembling. No answer.

Her fingers gripped the railing as she descended the stairs, each creak under her weight sending a spike of dread through her. "Where are you guys—" She froze mid-sentence as her eyes landed on the living room.

Her breath hitched.

The room was painted in blood.

Crimson streaked the walls, pooling across the floor and soaking the couch. Bingo's knees nearly buckled at the sight of her family. Bluey lay sprawled on the floor, her throat slit and her hoodie drenched in blood. Gashes crisscrossed her body, deep and jagged. Nearby, Chilli slumped against the wall, an impalement wound straight through her chest and slashes tearing at her arms. And then there was Bandit. He had suffered the worst. His arm was severed, lying discarded near the couch. His throat gaped open in a jagged wound, his stomach split wide, intestines spilling out in a grotesque heap.

Bingo's breath came in short gasps, her vision swimming. "No… no, no, no…"

"Hello, Knives."

The voice cut through her horror like a blade. Phantom stood in the center of the carnage, his calm demeanor twisted by a devilish smirk. Blood dripped from his claws, but he looked almost pristine in his dark attire, as if none of this chaos could touch him.

"What a lovely family you have," he drawled, his tone mocking, his amber eyes gleaming with malice.

"They were disposable." Scarlet Fang's voice came next, her words cruel and clinical. She stepped into view, running a bloodied claw through her fur as if wiping away an inconvenience. "Collateral damage."

Something inside Bingo snapped. A guttural growl escaped her throat as her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her blood boiled with fury, drowning out her grief, her fear.

"You bastards," she snarled, her voice a trembling mix of rage and anguish. Her body coiled, ready to lunge—

SCHLING.

A sudden, searing pain erupted in her chest. She stumbled, her breath hitching as she looked down. A blade jutted through her torso, the tip slick with crimson. Blood poured from the wound, warm and sticky, soaking into her shirt.

She gasped, choking on the taste of iron as the blade was yanked free. The pain was blinding, but through her blurred vision, she turned to see her attacker. Archer stood behind her, a satisfied grin stretched across her face.

"Happy Holidays, bitch," Archer sneered, her voice dripping with venom.

Bingo collapsed to her knees, her vision fading as blood spilled from her body and pooled on the floor. Her trembling fingers clawed at the carpet, her gaze locked on the lifeless forms of her family. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as her mind spiraled into despair.

I'm useless…

They needed me, and I couldn't…

I'm USELESS!

Her chest burned, her vision went dark. Faint voices rang in her ears, distant and distorted.

"Bingo—Bingo! Wake up!"

Bingo gasped, her eyes snapping open as she jolted upright in bed. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her fur damp with sweat. For a moment, she was paralyzed, her wide eyes scanning the room. The familiar walls of her bedroom came into focus, sunlight spilling softly through the blinds. Slowly, her trembling hands moved to her chest, fingers pressing over where the blade had pierced her in the dream. There was no wound. No blood.

It was just a nightmare.

"Bingo?"

The voice startled her, and she whipped her head toward it. Bluey was sitting on the edge of the bed, her brows furrowed in concern. "Are you… okay?" she asked gently, her voice laced with worry. "I was coming to wake you up, but I heard you yelling. You were screaming something about being 'useless.'" She paused, studying Bingo's face. "And… are you crying?"

Bingo blinked, her hand brushing her face. Her fingers came away damp with tears she hadn't realized were falling. Her heart still pounded in her chest, the horrific images from her dream flashing behind her eyes. Her family—Bluey—lying dead, torn apart.

The blood.

The pain.

She swallowed hard, trying to ground herself in reality. Bluey was here. Alive. Whole. Her warmth and presence broke through the suffocating fog in Bingo's mind, god that dream was horrible.

"I…" Bingo's voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. She wiped at her eyes hastily, like she could erase the evidence of her vulnerability. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just… a bad dream, heh.."

Bluey didn't look convinced. Her gaze softened, and she shifted closer, placing a comforting hand on Bingo's arm. "It must've been a really bad one." Her tone was quiet, her voice careful. "You don't have to talk about it, but… I'm here, okay?"

For a moment, Bingo couldn't bring herself to meet Bluey's eyes. The nightmare had felt so real, the pain and despair still clawing at her chest. But as she glanced at her sister—alive and concerned—it was enough to make her exhale a shaky breath.

"Thanks, Bluey," she murmured, her voice steadier now. Her lips twitched into a small, fleeting smile. "I'm glad you're here."

Bluey returned the smile, though her concern lingered. "Always."

As Bluey stayed by her side, the vivid horrors of the dream began to fade, replaced by the grounding comfort of the real world. Bingo let out another breath, long and slow. She wasn't useless. Not here. Not now.

Thank god it was just a nightmare.

"But hey, let's get up already! We're heading over to Uncle Stripe and Aunt Trixie's place!" Bluey's cheerful voice cut through the sleepy haze as she tugged the blanket off Bingo. "They're having a barbie to celebrate you being back! I think Uncle Rad and Aunt Frisky are gonna be there too!"

Bluey was already dressed and practically bouncing with excitement. She wore a bright red blouse decorated with a playful print of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the fabric catching the sunlight pouring through the window. Her blue denim shorts hugged her figure casually, and her white low-top sneakers, spotless and practical, completed her festive, yet relaxed look. "Come on, get dressed!" she urged, with her hands on her hips, radiating an energy that could have rivaled the summer sun.

Bingo groaned, slowly peeling herself out of bed. Her loose, oversized grey t-shirt hung off one shoulder, wrinkled from sleep, and her black boxers didn't exactly scream "holiday spirit." She stretched, yawning as her joints popped softly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm up…" she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her hair was a mess, sticking up in random directions, and she shuffled her feet like a zombie as she trudged toward the bathroom.

Cue the montage of me getting ready…

Bingo leaned over the sink, scrubbing lazily at first, then picking up the pace when she caught Bluey tapping her foot impatiently at the door.

…

Bingo tugged on a festive green sleeveless top with a subtle Christmas tree print and paired it with red plaid shorts, tying the look together with her trusty sneakers. She added a splash of personality by clipping a candy-cane-patterned scrunchie onto her wrist.. god she looked so goofy.

…

The four of them piled into the family car. Bluey slid into the backseat, still buzzing with excitement, while Bingo slumped in beside her, looking more awake but still a bit groggy.

Even Chilli and Bandit were dressed for the occasion, leaning into the Christmas cheer. Chilli wore a light red sundress with tiny white snowflake details and a matching sunhat. Bandit, in true dad fashion, sported a green t-shirt with a cartoon Santa surfing on a wave, paired with khaki shorts and flip-flops.

As they drove through the warm summer streets of Brisbane, the salty breeze of the season drifted through the open windows, carrying the scent of barbecues and blooming flowers. Bluey leaned out slightly, her face lit up with a carefree smile as she basked in the sunshine. Beside her, Bingo stared silently out the window, the chatter in the car fading into the background.

Bandit hummed along to the cheerful tune of "Frosty the Snowman" blasting through the speakers.

"Frosty the Snowman?" Really? Who are we kidding? It's a bloody summer. Not a snowflake in sight, Bingo thought, suppressing an eye roll.

The passing scenery blurred as her focus turned inward. The warmth of the car and the laughter of her family only highlighted how detached she felt.

It's weird, you know? Sitting here in Bobo again, Bluey next to me, Mum and Dad up front, like nothing's changed. Like I'm not a stranger at my own family's party. It's all my fault. I drifted away, and now I don't know how to belong again.

Her stomach churned as the car slowed, pulling into a familiar driveway. The scent of barbecue wafted through the air, mingling with the distant hum of Christmas music. Stepping out of the car, Bingo took a deep breath. The backyard was alive with voices and laughter.

Her eyes scanned the array of cars parked outside.

Uncle Rad and Aunt Frisky's car, Aunt Brandy's too… even Nana and Grandpa Mort are here. Damn. This is a full-blown family reunion. I can't do this. I can't—

"C'mon, Bingo!" Bluey's voice broke through her thoughts as she strode toward the backyard gate.

"Alright, alright…" Bingo muttered, dragging her feet as she followed. Her heart thudded in her chest.

Time to plaster on a smile and pile on more lies. What could go wrong?

The moment she stepped into the yard, a loud, familiar voice pierced through the festive din.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S BINGO!"

Bingo barely had time to react before Muffin, now 19 and taller than Bingo remembered, threw her arms around her. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

Bingo winced, her cousin's enthusiasm squeezing the air out of her lungs. "I'm… alive! Ha, surprise?"

Muffin pulled back, hands on her hips. "You're a dickhead, you know that? You've got a lot of explaining to do. But first, you owe me, like, a thousand phone calls."

Bingo barely had a moment to catch her breath before another figure stepped forward. Socks smiled warmly, her presence calm in contrast to Muffin's whirlwind energy.

"Long time no see, cuz" Socks said, her voice steady but kind. She was 17 now, standing tall and poised in her Christmas-themed outfit. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," Bingo replied, her throat tightening. "Too long... My bad."

Bluey, never one to miss an opportunity, chimed in with a teasing grin. "Your bad, alright! You had us all worried, you know. You're not that busy with your 'office job' that you can't visit your family."

"Okay, okay, enough guilt-tripping!" Bingo raised her hands in mock surrender, though her forced smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Jeeeez…"

She turned as Uncle Stripe and Aunt Trixie approached, their matching festive outfits as loud as their laughter. Trixie pulled her into a warm hug. "Bingo! Look at you—you've grown into such a lovely woman!"

"And Uncle Stripe's getting grey!" Bingo quipped, earning a laugh from everyone except Stripe, who shot her an exaggeratedly offended glare.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.." Stripe muttered. "Anyway, if you're hungry, grab a plate! And if you're feeling brave, come to the men's table. I'm teaching everyone how Spades is played."

"Teaching, huh?" Bingo smirked. "You mean losing? I could probably wipe the floor with you in a game of Spades."

"Oh, you think so?" Stripe crossed his arms, his competitive streak flaring. "Oi, Bandit! Your daughter thinks she's got what it takes. What do you reckon?"

Bandit grinned, already seated at the table. "She can take Radley's spot. He's useless!"

"Oi!" Radley shot back, earning a chorus of laughter.

Bingo couldn't help but chuckle, momentarily distracted from the weight pressing on her shoulders. "Alright, old man, deal me in. Let's see what you've got."

As she headed toward the men's table, Bluey waved her off with a knowing grin. "Good luck, tough guy!"

Bingo threw a mock salute before thinking…

Luck? I'm gonna need more than that to survive this reunion.

The afternoon stretched lazily into the evening, the warm glow of sunset casting golden hues over the Heeler family's backyard. Laughter and chatter filled the air as the family enjoyed each other's company. Bingo played her part well, smiling and joking with her relatives, though every word she spoke was a carefully crafted lie.

She regaled them with tales of her "peaceful" life in Melbourne, spinning mundane stories about a quiet office job and leisurely weekends. Of course, she left out the truth—the blood on her hands and the trail of bodies she'd left behind. Just days ago, she'd earned $75,000 for a contract that saw her take out Bash, Deadeye, and Knuckle with surgical precision. She'd slaughtered them without hesitation, like animals for the butcher.

But tonight, none of that existed. Her family didn't need to know.

As the evening wore on, family and friends trickled in, adding to the already lively barbecue. Fido, Pat, Wendy, and a handful of others joined the festivities. The backyard was now bustling with familiar faces, the aroma of grilled meat still lingering in the air.

Then, Bingo saw her.

Standing at the backyard gate was someone she hadn't expected—someone she hoped she'd never see again. The figure froze her in place, a chill creeping down her spine despite the warmth of the evening.

It was Judo.

The chow chow stood at the entrance, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd before settling on Bingo. She was dressed simply in a white long-sleeve shirt, black capris, and casual grey sneakers. A teal headband kept her hair back, and despite the casual attire, there was an air of confidence about her that hadn't changed.

Judo was 22 now, the same age as Bluey. But she might as well have been a ghost from Bingo's past.

Bingo's smile faltered, her heart pounding in her chest. Everything else faded—the laughter, the music, even the crackle of the barbecue. All she could see was Judo, standing there like an unwelcome memory brought to life.

Their eyes locked across the yard.

Bingo's gaze was blank, almost icy, while Judo's was just as cold. Neither spoke, but their stares said everything. The tension between them was palpable, like a taut string ready to snap.

Out of everyone else in the world… why did it have to be you? Why did YOU have to come here?

Bingo's thoughts rang out in her head, the echoes drowning out the noise around her. She clenched her fists, unsure whether she wanted to walk away or confront her 'friend'.

Judo's expression remained unreadable, but her presence alone was enough to unsettle Bingo. In the middle of this family gathering, with laughter and holiday cheer all around, Bingo felt like the ground beneath her was beginning to shift.

She couldn't look away. And neither could Judo.

Judo and I… have an interesting relationship. I guess you could say she's the reason I became the monster I am now. Remember how I said a friend of a friend introduced me to this life..? Well, it was a friend of Judo's. She threw me into this pit of darkness, and I clawed my way out—only to emerge as something unrecognizable.

Her buddy was the one who introduced me to the Underground. She and her friend showed me the rules, the risks, and the rewards. Judo Chow, part of the Brisbane Division, carved her own path in blood, just like I did.

She too has hands stained red, but hers… were the ones that pushed me into this life. Sometimes… i dunno whether to hate her for it or to thank her.

Bingo's thoughts consumed her as she stood frozen in place, but Judo was already making her way through the barbecue, stopping to exchange pleasantries with Bluey and the others. Her smile was warm, her tone inviting—a masterclass in deception. But when her gaze landed on Bingo, it lingered, sharp and deliberate.

Judo walked toward her with easy confidence, her voice carrying across the backyard as if they hadn't seen each other in years. "Bingo! It's so good to see you!"

I hate how she can act like this—like we're old friends catching up instead of two people with a body count between us.

We're both not clean.

Bingo forced a bright smile, playing along. "Judo! My god, how have you been?" she replied, her voice unnaturally cheerful.

Then Judo stepped closer and pulled her into a hug. Bingo's muscles tensed immediately, her instincts screaming at her to back away. But before she could react, Judo leaned in and whispered, her words sending a chill down Bingo's spine.

"We need to talk. In private."

Her voice was low, sharp, and almost dangerous.

Pulling back, Judo plastered on her fake smile again, raising her voice just enough for the others to hear. "You got a minute to spare, old pal? It'll be quick, I promise!"

Her eyes, however, told a different story. They burned with urgency, making it clear this wasn't a casual request.

"Yeah, of course! Let's go chat." Bingo gave a fake laugh, glancing at Bluey and the others. "We'll be right back, everyone!"

Together, the two walked toward the house, their steps in sync but their minds worlds apart. Bingo's heart thudded in her chest, though her face betrayed nothing. The moment the guest bedroom door shut behind them, Bingo turned the lock with a deliberate click.

When she faced Judo again, the mask fell away. Her smile vanished, replaced by a cold, emotionless stare.

This is it—the face of Knives. No hesitation. No cracks.

Judo stood in the center of the room, her posture steady, her eyes sharp and calculating. The pretense of friendliness was gone, replaced by the quiet intensity of two killers who knew exactly who they were dealing with in case they needed to handle business.

I can't stand her, but she's probably the only person in the world who gets me.

And that's what makes her so dangerous.

"You know…" Bingo muttered, staring at Judo with a cold, distant expression. "Remember the last time we saw each other?" She folded her arms, her tone dripping with disdain. "I hoped—I prayed to whatever magical god's up in the sky—that I'd never have to see your fucking face again, but…" She raised her arms in mock defeat, a fake, bitter smile creeping onto her face. "Here we are."

Judo's eyes flickered, her composed demeanor faltering for just a moment before she looked away. "Look… I don't exactly blame you for feeling that way, Bingo—"

"Don't," Bingo snapped, her voice cutting like a blade. Her words dripped with venom. "Don't call me that name. You don't get to call me that anymore, Mirage.."

Judo sighed, the weight of unspoken history between them pressing down on her.

"…Knives," Judo corrected herself, her tone measured and steady, though there was a trace of regret in her eyes. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the guest bed, her gaze never leaving Bingo's.

"I'm going to cut to the chase," she began, her voice low, "and it's not going to be nice."

Bingo remained by the door, her arms now crossed tightly, her stoic mask firmly in place. She said nothing, waiting for the blow she knew was coming.

"There's a Black Widow here in Brisbane," Judo said finally, "and he's looking for you."

The words hit Bingo like a freight train. Her cold, emotionless facade shattered, her expression twisting into one of shock and fear. She stumbled back, her shoulder blades pressing against the door as her mind raced.

No… no way.

Her breathing quickened as the reality of the situation sank in. Her family. Her friends. Everyone she cared about. They were in danger.

And it's all my fault.

"Look at me, Knives," Judo said firmly, her voice cutting through the panic in Bingo's head. "You need to get your things and get the fuck out of Brisbane. Tonight."

The concern in Judo's voice startled Bingo. It wasn't fake; it wasn't part of some manipulation. It was real.

"I know what you're thinking," Judo continued, standing now. Her voice softened just slightly. "And trust me… I don't want your family to get hurt. This is between you and them. Whatever you've done—it followed you here. And now it's on your doorstep."

Bingo's jaw clenched as anger bubbled in her chest. She slammed her fist against the door with a loud BANG.

"FUCKIN' HELL!" she shouted, her voice trembling with fury and fear. "Those bastards tracked me down. My folks… my folks are in fucking danger, and it's all because of me! I—"

"You've got to go," Judo interrupted, her tone sharp but not unkind. She glanced toward the window, motioning at the scene outside—the family laughing, eating, living. "We can't risk losing anyone, Bingo. You know that. The path you and I walk?" Her voice dropped, quieter now. "There's no room for.. this."

Judo's words were a knife to the gut. Through the window, Bingo could see the people she loved most in the world. Bluey was laughing at something Muffin said, Bandit and Stripe were bickering over barbecue, and Nana was watching it all with a warm smile.

And here I am, thinking I could pretend. Pretend that I'm still part of this world.

As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. We're on a path of bloodshed.

She let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it.

What time do I have for family gatherings? For peace? My life is full of destruction. A life of fucking sin.

Bingo's hands balled into fists as she turned her back to the window, the light of the outside world only deepening the shadows in the room.

She stood there for a moment, silent. Her mind raced, the weight of the situation pressing on her chest like a vice.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice low and steady.

"…Which one is it?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto Judo's. "Which Black Widow is looking for me?"

Judo didn't flinch. "Archer," she replied bluntly. "The Dingo. He's the marksman of the team. And you better believe he'll put a bullet in you—or any of your family members—if you don't get the fuck out of here."

Bingo's stomach churned, but she forced herself to stay composed.

Judo continued, her tone sharp but laced with urgency. "I drove here. I'll take you back home so you can pack and get out of Brisbane. Tonight."

Bingo nodded slowly, though her mind was already spinning with darker thoughts.

Archer.

The name alone sent a surge of anger through her veins.

If that fucker so much as thinks about hurting my family… I'll kill him dead. I'll slit his throat without hesitation and watch him bleed.

The thought came unbidden, raw, and visceral.

She hated how natural it felt.

But something else lingered in the back of her mind. A quiet voice urging her to stay.

"I…" Bingo hesitated, glancing at the door as if weighing her options. "I need to talk to Bluey before I leave Brisbane again. I'm gonna need at least another day."

Judo frowned, her stoic expression hardening. "Knives—"

"Please, Mirage." Bingo's voice cracked, and for the first time in years, her eyes pleaded. "I need to tell her something before I go. Just… give me this."

Judo's gaze softened, ever so slightly. She closed her eyes, letting out a long, frustrated sigh.

"One more day," she said firmly. "You get one more day. Then you're gone. Do you understand?"

Bingo nodded, relief washing over her. "Yeah. I get it."

Judo studied her for a moment longer, her jaw tight, before finally turning toward the door.

The two assassins left the room, stepping back into the noise and warmth of the party. But neither of them felt at ease. The invisible weight of their conversation hung heavy in the air.

Bingo's mind churned, a storm of anger and fear brewing within her. She could feel it—something dark was coming.

And it wasn't waiting for her one more day.

….