STRANGULATE | Markicest

53 | SILVERTONGUE

When you see this symbol—💎—play the song above! Or play a song from my playlist 'X AMANI' ;)      

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They left the mansion and boarded the limousine alone. Just the two of them—Antinstine and Mark—with the driver closed off by a tinted window.

Memories flashed in the back of Mark's head: the night he and Dark went to X Amani, the night he first saw Antinstine, and the night when everything—for the second time—had changed.

Mark sat in the middle of the seats, now, where Cibil had sat that first ride back to the mansion. Antinstine sat in the same spot—right by the door—closer to Mark than he liked.

The golden gates and the tall hedges of the mansion peeled away as they drove towards the City, which glimmered like a star despite the darkening sky. Noise began to swell around them—honking cars, blaring music, and shouting people—but Antinstine paid no mind to their surroundings. His eyes pierced into Mark's with a ferocity that had his skin burning.

"It's your choice of dinner tonight," said Antinstine, "Celebrity Killer."

A muscle in Mark's jaw twitched, and he gazed at Antinstine through the corner of his eye. He didn't like the way he said his alias like a pet name. Sure, he enjoyed the silent pact killers had—a small, shared nod; a lingering glance; that swelling air of pride when a killer recognized another. But this... this left a sour taste on his mouth.

Mark huffed and wrung his hands together. "I'm not up to going back—"

Home, he nearly said, but he quickly stopped himself.

"—to the humans," Mark said instead, clearing his throat.

Antinstine rose a brow and draped his arms over his seat, studying Mark's features. His hunched frame and the tightness of his features... how his knuckles would turn white when he squeezed his hands together. Anti tilted his head.

"Are you nervous?" he muttered.

Mark blinked, and he stared at Anti in disbelief, suddenly offended.

Nervous?

In all his years of killing, he'd never been nervous. Nervousness meant worry about the kill. It meant doubt in his own skills that the murder wouldn't come through.

Nervousness was for amateurs.

Mark dug his nails into his palms and glared at the floor. "It wouldn't be worth it," he said firmly. "Going to a human city."

Antinstine's lips curled into a grin, and his eyes flashed. "Who said we were going to one?" he hummed. Mark blinked, and when he glanced over, Antinstine was leaning forward, face too close to his.

"No use wasting our time on some simple human," he breathed, gazing at Mark through his lashes. "I thought we'd go bigger."

Mark breath caught, and he leaned away. Dread crawled up his throat.

"What do you mean, exactly?" he said.

The limousine slowed to a halt, and it was only then that Mark realized the floor and the walls of the vehicle pounded with a feral drum. Music swelled in his ears, louder now, rattling like an omen.

Mark looked out the tinted window to find the source, and his face paled.

There, in the trashed street, glowed the bright, neon sign.

X Amani.

———

Xilef sat across from Dark in the carriage, staring at him with crossed arms. Neither of them spoke, letting the sounds of the village fill the space between them. The thud of hooves, the creak and rock of the carriage, the occasional murmur of Evolveds walking by. It would have been peaceful—relaxing, even—but the faint buzzing in their earpieces reminded them of why they were there in the first place.