Dementophobia || Sanders Sides

9. Leverage

Mommmm the ladies are fighting againnnnn

TW: swearing, descriptions of gore, talk of blood/murder/death, talk of gangs, arguing,

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"Where the hell are we going, anyway?" Roman huffed. "And how are you going to keep them from realizing we're gone?"

"Easy. We go towards where they want us to go, but we go past it instead of stopping," Virgil explained. "Luckily for us, I bought this car awhile ago under a different name and haven't used it often, so hopefully they'll have no idea I even have it."

"They probably watched us get into the car."

"Oh well. We're coming up on the point, so once we pass this I'm going to get onto the interstate as soon as possible."

"You still didn't tell me where we're going." Virgil could hear the pout Roman had on his face without even having to look at him, and more than anything he wanted to bash his pretty head in.

This was going to be a long trip.

~

"Virgilllllll."

"Shut up, Roman. I'm trying to fucking concentrate on driving," Virgil grumbled. They were a few hours into the drive, and Roman had done nothing but complain or chatter away the entire time. How someone could be so talkative, he didn't know.

"I'm bored!" Roman protested. "There's nothing to do. You won't let me turn the radio on, and my phone died an hour ago."

"If you turn the radio on you're going to sing," Virgil said. "I don't care to hear your voice more than I have to right now. You're going to give me a headache."

"It's your fault that we're doing this."

"Well it's your fault that we got into this mess in the first place."

"You could at least tell me where we're going. I'm getting worried that you're just bringing me someplace to kill me." If only, if only.

"If I was going to kill you, I would've already. I wouldn't bring you half way across the country just to stick a knife in your throat. I would do that anywhere."

"What a reassuring statement." Roman's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"I'm a serial killer, Roman," Virgil deadpanned. "I don't do reassuring statements. I do blood and murder, not comfort. If you want murder tips I'd be happy to help, but otherwise I'd rather be left alone."

"Yeah, well if I'm going to be stuck with you, you're going to be stuck with me." There was a confidence in his voice that made Virgil want to drive the car off of the road, if only to shut him up. Maybe this trip would finally be the death of him. "Now tell me where we're going."

"An old friend's place," Virgil muttered. Clearly, Roman wouldn't leave him alone until he got some sort of information. "He's got a hide out that we can stay at for a bit. It won't be safe forever, but a day or two there should be safe enough until we figure out where we're going."

"What's his name?" Virgil smirked, holding back a small laugh.

"You can call him Scales."

"Really? Code names?"

"What can I say, I learn by example." He knew it would bother Roman to not have a piece of the information. In a way, it was a petty form of revenge for the questions that didn't require weapons or gore. Not that he would've hated those options either.

"You're an ass," Roman huffed.

"And you're a pain in my ass."

"I wouldn't be a pain if you let me free," Roman pointed out. Virgil glanced at him incredulously.

"And let you go to the cops or more of your gang friends? No way."

"Why the hell would I go to the cops? That would be dumb. How would I explain any of this without getting myself locked up as well?"

"You make a fair point," Virgil said. "However, you'd still go back to your gang, and I'd rather not have that happen."

"Why not? It's not like that would affect you."

"It wouldn't affect me?" Virgil scoffed. "You were the one who said every single other person you've stalked has ended up dead because of your twin. The second I let you go and you run off to your gang again, I lose the only leverage I have to stay alive. Maybe it's shitty to use a person as leverage, but that's what you get when you stalk a serial killer."

"For the last time, I didn't know!"

"Does it really matter anymore? Either way you're stuck in with me for the moment. Now, we need to figure out how to get along in public so we can actually stop somewhere. I don't think arguing over my morals and killing tendencies would go very well in the middle of a hotel lobby."

"Well excuse me for preferring a little more care for humanity."

"I'm a serial killer," Virgil deadpanned. "Your twin runs a gang. People die because of the gang. I don't understand what's so different about it."

"Well-" Roman cut himself off with a huff.

"Look, either way, we need to get along, because we're at the only rest stop we've seen for miles, and I'm not about to get arrested because of you."

877 words.