Number Four

Number, Number

So this is just a super short one shot I wrote over several months time and have only just now finished as I promised I'd post something this August. So that's a little embarrassing, but anyway I think it turned out pretty good anyway and I'll keep fighting through my not-quite-writers-block and get back to you with another story soon. Hope you enjoy.

And for those who are just coming across one of my stories- and are probably slightly confused- welcome! Check out my profile for more, and longer, primarily fanfiction stories.

Finally if anyone knows how to write plot summaries, please help.

-T.A.L.A.

Frankenstein had once joked that number four was a cursed number and, looking over the remains of his faithful legs, Chrollo was beginning to think that he had had a point.

        Omokage had been first to wear the number four spider tattoo and he had been an odd one from the start, although perhaps not as much so among their numbers. He hadn't stood out too much from a crowd look wise despite his long silver hair and dark clothes, not even with the spider tattoo that sat in plain view on his right hand. Not when nearby Frankenstein towered over everyone with hunched back and sinking earlobes and Uvogin bellowed his words at the top of his voice in nothing but a piece of fur.

     Omokage had been the one to suggest the Kurtan massacre, push for it rather, and none of the others cared enough to do anything but agree after he demanded it become the next 'heist'. Omokage had a fixation with body parts that none of them wanted to deal with and had been one of theirs for not quite two years at that point.

They could argue about the logistics and the why they would even want to attack this isolated village. Or they would finally get the chance to test their newly awakened nen abilities on somebody other than each other with their sparring practices or the occasional hunter who they ran into on the road.

Naturally they had gone along.

He had been insane though, and once Shalnark had found unfinished puppets in the spider's image, they had all known that it wouldn't last. Omokage was insane about his puppets, he would not leave any unfinished, and no puppet was considered unfinished unless it had the extracted eyes and life nen from whoever's image it was made in. Predictably Omokage had attempted to kill them. He had started with a Chrollo first, an unfortunate mistake, and had been killed quickly.

They hadn't decided on a replacement yet for Omokage, and weren't really looking for one either, until they ran into Walter. Chrollo had wanted somebody who could sneak into tight spaces for the next heist and unfortunately, Walter had fit that bill. Walter was tall and lanky and ever so slightly more creepy than Omokage, he had joined in order to kill them too in what was becoming a bit of a disturbing trend for the person fulfilling the role of the spider labeled number four.

"I'm going to kill you," he had announced, bending over backwards before delicately lifting his feet in a handstand. Slowly he tilted over until his feet hit the box below the one his hands were braced upon in a back bend and then ever so carefully he hadn't straightened up onto his feet again.

"I'm going to watch each and every single one of your powers and then I'm going to kill you. One by one." Slowly he began to repeat the motion as he continued down the stacked stairs made up of the many crates that lined the walls of the warehouse they were meeting in like some demented, black and white, human slinky. He had entered from the barely twelve centimeters at its longest, rectangular window rather than the door which had been equally as disturbing to watch, "Stealing the life from you as you struggle to escape your own web. Doesn't that sound delightful?"

None of them had minded much when Walter had ended up getting crushed to death.

Damien had gotten the role next, he had previously been a black list hunter who was more than a little off the rails, enough so that his Hunter license had successfully gotten revoked in a shocking turn of events- there had been multiple serial killers, assassins, thieves, and other unsavory types who had earned a hunters license and kept it even after conviction.

       He wore bright colors and made no secret of any of his intentions, when he had been a black list hunter he would post where he currently was and also who he currently was hunting fairly regularly. There was nothing below the table with him, everything was flashy.

He had earned his way into the open spot of number four quickly, and had most of the spider's respect despite or because he made no secret of his intentions to fight them all to the death eventually. Given time some suspected he'd be able to too. Damien hadn't actually gotten to stay long in the troupe though before Hisoka had come along.

That fight had ended surprisingly quickly considering how skilled Damien was, but all could already see that the trend would not be ending so soon as Hisoka continued to juggle the severed limbs well after his victory and later left them stuck- somehow- to a wall once he had gotten bored.

And so Hisoka had been the fourth and was a horrible blend of all the ones who had come before him. He got downright creepy fixations on people, wore bright and garish colors, acted like some sort of messed up circus act, went out of his way to annoy people, and was downright creepy himself. 

      Even without the pattern of the number fours, they all suspected that he had only joined to kill them. It was no great loss when he announced he wasn't part of the spider after all, and had only been faking it. But then he had gone after their own.  That was a step too far. 

Kalluto was next, considering his family and history- both Kalluto's and the spider's own- nobody had high hopes.

But Kalluto wasn't a threat like Hisoka had been, and as much as the spider's hated to admit it they wouldn't survive another strike like the clown, even if they won, so soon after the first. Either way Kalluto feel into his new role as a spider quickly enough and the spider began to recover, even as the hatred for the previous number four remained.

       Still... they could see the same dark something brewing in Kalluto's eyes as they had seen in all the others.