Paving New Ground

Prologue

This wasn't the way Pico was expecting--or wanting--to go out.

He expected--and wanted--to die like a badass. Being caught in an explosion, dying in a shootout, something. Anything other than this. He felt like a coward, running away like this, but he didn't have much of a choice.

This morning, he had been anonymously paid to capture (not kill, which he thought was strange, but hey, money is money) two people with strange descriptions.  "Silhouettes with bloody faces," the client had said, "they're in the middle of the city right now."

Nene and Darnell offered to tag along, but Pico decided he could handle this by himself. Him and his stupid, giant ego...

He realized too late that he could not, in fact, handle it by himself, when he arrived at the area, only to come face to face with a literal shadow of his ex and his ex's current girlfriend.

When he first saw them, he couldn't believe his eyes. He stared at them for a good long while. They stared back, through him. As if they were gazing directly at his soul, (if he even had one, at this point) peircing through it with bullets. After a while of staring, they began to stagger toward him like zombies.

"Shit," he muttered, fumbling with his gun. He raised his weapon and got ready to fire; that was when they began to hum. A low tone that fluctuated at times, but was overall shockingly pleasant despite the circumstances.

He fired some bullets. That was enough to stun them for a bit. They touched their bullet wounds as if it were something to be curious about rather than hurt by, staring at the blood on their fingertips, but never stopped making the strange sound.

Pico only held his fire when he felt a sudden pain on his fingertips. He paused to look at his hand.

His fingertips were almost vantablack. It was more of a purple, though; not unlike the creatures he was currently dealing with...

Pico gasped and fled. He felt like a fucking moron. There was no way he could take this all by himself. He needed to call somebody.

He ran and ducked behind a corner, crouching behind a dumpster and taking his phone out despite the pain that had now spread to his full hand. He dialed Darnell's number.

"C'mon, Darnell, pick up already...!"

"...Hey, hey! If you're hearing this, I'm not available right now..."

God fucking dammit.

Pico hung up before the automated message could finish. He tried calling Nene, to the same result.

"...Hello! I'm sorry that I can't pick up right now, but..."

"Fuuuuuck," Pico groaned under his breath.

He heard growling above him and looked up to be greeted with a crooked, bloody smile. He cursed again and stood up, shooting "Boyfriend" in the head. Again, no reaction of pain.

He took off again, running for god knew how long. Eventually, though, he decided that he may as well dial the police. He knew he could probably get arrested, but he didn't care at this point. As long as these things could be detained, he could deal with the consequences that the law had in store for him.

He dialed as he ran, although to where, he was unsure. An operator finally picked up.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"You need to send the police as soon as possible. I'm being attacked."

"Uh...ok, can you describe your attacker?"

"Attackers, actually, and uh...I don't think you'd believe me if I told you..."

"...that's not helpful, sir."