Trouble in Terrorist's Town

Six Down,How Many Now? (RoyalChaos)

The sniper finds his target,the gun steadying as he holds his breath,and he lines up the shot perfectly,and pulls the trigger. The gunshot echoes loud and clear,and then the glass window shatters. He smiles grimly,and straightens his back,so he's not hunched over. He pulls his gun from the window sill,and with a grimace,sits down underneath it. His head rests back against the cream coloured walls,and he closes his tired eyes. The paint is peeling off of the wall,and he can almost feel the little chips of paint caught adrift in his curls,making him groan. He ruffles his hair a bit,shedding the paint chips in every direction. Sighing in defeat,the male digs out the porcelain tile from his pocket. Shoving the gun away from him so he could have some distance from the harsh reality he let himself become a part of,the male stared down at the milky white square in his palm. After a few momens,the surface twisted and warped,before forming the grim,crimson red T. It made his stomach churn,before the instinctive,sadistic smirk tainted his innocent features.

"Three down,"

The male said in a delighted,sing-song voice,

"Who to gun down now?"

Curious,the male stood up again,and leaned out of the open window he had shot out of. As he did so,the building he had shot at exploded,rubble flying everywhere as the house was reduced to smithereens. Blinking in slight shock,the male watched with rapt attention,eyes focused on the dust cloud that was obstructing his vision. After the dust settled,he could see people fleeing in every direction,running from the flames that started to swallow the ruins of the building. The male easily counted the people running away by twos,and was delighted when he came up a few people short. Two of the creatures that had gone into the building had not emerged from the rubble,so that meant--

"Five people down,"

A voice purred,hands finding a place on his waist. Warm breath was at his ear,so the male happily tilted his head back to say,

"Krism looks like she's searching for Minxie."

"She won't find her,"

The voice said,silky smooth,

"The C4 would've taken care of anyone not fast enough to run."

"You did wonderfully,Anth',"

The male smiles,and turns around as arms slide around his waist,and he faces the Italian whom he had so happily found to be an ally. The crimson T shone dimly above the Italian's head,curling in on itself and twisting to almost resemble a demented halo.

"You shot down their leader,Kootra,"

The other male purrs,

"That's a pretty hefty achievement,Steven."

Steven grinned,

"You flatter me."

The Italian only smirks darkly,before kissing Steven deeply,surprising the usually naive Canadian.

"Anthony,stop,I do not need an erection while trying to shoot someone,"

Steven says breathlessly,hands on the Italian's chest after Anthony had snuck a hand down his jeans to prod the Canadian's crotch. Anthony whined,palming the male slightly.

"Aww,c'mon Steven,you look sooooo sexy with your hair all ruffled and that naughty little smirk."

"Maybe later,you know,when I'm not worried about somebody coming up and shooting us."

"Fine,"

Anthony huffs,and releases Steven,before saying,

"I'll be a floor down,trying to see if I can get any stragglers."

"Don't get shot,"

Steven says,pecking his nose before turning back to his window,picking up his sniper rifle. He peers out of the window,and spots movement in the hotel that's just within shooting range,and sight. With a grin,Steven looked through the scope to see who exactly it was. He perked up a bit once he noticed the glowing red T hovering above the person's head,but a small frown came over his features as he realised the whole situation. It was Sark,one of Anthony's friends,and he sure as hell was a traitor. But Hutch,the man's boyfriend/datemate thing,was standing right next to him. And lacking a T. Steven's stomach churned horribly,and he had to drop the gun,stepping back from the window.

All at once,horror and sickness swept over him,and he barely had the sense to run for the nearest bathroom,retching in the bathtub when he got there. He collapsed on the linolieum floor,chest heaving as bitter tears suddenly spilled over his cheeks. He sobbed as he realised just what exactly he had done. He had felt no sorrow when he ruthlessly executed GaLm,leaving John to cry over their friends dead body,while Tom tried to comfort his boyfriend the best he could. He felt no guilt when he saw Krism screaming and sobbing,tearing through the rubble of the charred ruins,looking for her wife,who was unmistakably dead by now. He didn't waste another thought when he had shot and probably killed Kootra,and didn't think anything of it when he gunned down two other Creatures.

The tears came quicker and harder,and he was sobbing his heart out in the old bathroom,stopping the flow of bitter tears to throw up again,horrified and disgusted with himself.

After what seemed like hours of tears and throwing up,arms wrapped around his torso,pulling him back against a warm body. Fingers delicately brushed away his tears,and he was turned and pulled close,so that his face was buried in his comforter's chest,a familiar smell overlapping his sorrow and guilt.

"What happened?"

A soft voice asked,kind,gentle,caring.

"I-I kill-killed them wi-withou-out a second--second tho-thought,"

Steven sobbed against Anthony's chest,and the Italian tightened his hold on the Canadian,rocking them back and forth slowly,humming gently in his ear,

"It's okay,we'll be okay,it'll all be over soon,don't you worry about it,everthing will be okay.."

Eventually,Steven submitted to sleep,exhaustion winning over and dragging him under. Anthony sighed,and picked Steven up,hauling him and his carry-on up off the bathroom floor. He had gotten attacked by the same thoughts and agressions too,and knew that all that would help was rest and some comfort.

It was horrible what they were doing,even if they were forcing themselves to. He had felt so fucking guilty when he shot Sark,without even realising that the man was an ally,and it still ate away at him. And he still couldn't even comprehend that he had planted the C4,intending to kill as many people inside that house as possible.

It made him sick to his stomach,so Anthony steered his thoughts back to the fragile Canadian in his arms. He carried Steven to the decently,un-moth-eaten couch,and laid down so that Steven was laying on top of him,his arms wrapped protectively around the male. A quick look at his watch revealed that it was almost nighttime,so Anthony sighed,and tried to get comfortable. When he closed his eyes,the crimson T flashed behind his eyelids,followed by a timer that was at 6 Days,17 hours,49 minutes,49 seconds

47 seconds

45 seconds

43 seconds

41 seconds

Anthony felt himself slip into sleep's grasp as the timer ticked away,and was slumbering by the time it reached 28 seconds.