The Four Brothers ~ Completed

Capítulo Quatro: A Faca

This is our little murder-baby so it's clear that there's going to be a bit of hurting people in this, as well as cussing. There's going to be a bit of graphic detail going into injuries. Please don't read if this is going to affect you. I'm going to put a summary in the beginning of the next chapter of what happened in this chapter, so don't worry about missing anything because you won't be.

Damian's POV: 

Burgers, burgers, where did one acquire such a thing? Hm, was there a restaurant nearby that made those?

I didn't notice one when we came in.

Granted, I was frantically threatening doctors and nurses. And singing. What? The waiting room was boring and singing was entertaining.

"Damian?" Quinn's voice rang through the empty room, eyes wide as he looked at me. He seemed afraid. I wondered why.

I clicked the safety off of my gun before scratching my chin with it.

"Quinn! How's my favorite weapons dealer doing?" I asked with a smile, shifting in the seat behind his desk.

He hadn't been expecting me when he entered his office, and he was probably thinking about how the heck I got in, but oh well. Dead men don't talk, so he'd never really figure it out.

Unless he found the bodies already.

But I doubted that. I'm sure that the acid took care of those jerks before that.

"I'm fine. How're you doing?" He asked, eyes flicking about the room, as if searching for something specific.

If he was looking for his knife stash I'd found when I first arrived, he wouldn't see it. Reason being, it was currently hidden on my person.

He had a pretty karambit that I just couldn't pass up.

Maybe I could give it to Gemma. I could teach her to fight and we could bond over the bodies of our enemies.

How sweet.

"I need information and you happen to hear everything." I winked at him before standing, causing him to stumble a step back. I cocked my head at him. He seemed tense, afraid.

Did he hurt my Gemma?

With that thought, I sent a hollow-point into his knee. He went down with a high pitched keen of agony.

Wimp.

"What the fuck is your goddamn problem?" He howled, sitting in a puddle of blood on the floor that was steadily growing bigger. He had a hand clasped over the bullet wound but I only arched an eyebrow at him.

"Got a secret, can you keep it? Swear, this one you'll save. Better lock it in your pocket, takin' this one to the grave. Blah blah blah. 'Cause two can keep a secret if one of them is dead." I sang, fingertips dancing across the spines of books that had never been opened, all lined up and pretty on a bookshelf.

"I don't have any secrets!" Quinn screeched. I rolled my eyes.

We all had secrets.

For example, in the fifth grade, I stole Jenny Smiths pencil.

My favorite example: I knew Gemma stole that lollipop and I knew she hated it.

My least favorite example: I killed someone when I was only twelve, three years before my little sister was born and then taken.

"And I don't doubt you, Quinny-boy." I lifted the crystal top from a decanter of scotch, took a sniff, and grimaced before walking away. If the man is going to get fancy liquor, the least he could do was get the good stuff.

"Then why the hell did you shoot me?" Quinn was more than loud enough to wake the dead.

Ooh. Zombies. That would be funny. But also bad, considering I've killed a lot of people. Oopsie-daisy.

"I have an itchy trigger finger. And it seemed like a good idea at the time." I scratched at my chin with my pistol once more. I guess my beard was growing in again and that's why it continued to itch. Or maybe it was the dried blood?

"You're insane, but you're not a liar. Now why the hell did you shoot me?" Quinn snarled. I gave him a smirk, one I'd spent a while mastering. I found it worked to intimidate my enemies. Or maybe that was the knowledge that I was skilled enough to take their lives before they even knew I was in the same country.

Either way, smirking made me feel more like Tobias.

"Because we all have secrets." I replied. It was Quinn's turn to chuckle as he eased himself into a dark red recliner sitting by the bookshelf, a color that hid just how much blood he was loosing.

Don't worry, he wouldn't bleed out just yet. I knew exactly where to put my bullet.

"So this is about your bitch of a sister. She's causing quite the stir in the underground." Quinn told me. The curious furrow of my brow lightened and he smiled at my expression.

His smile vanished when I started to smile. A giggle bubbled up from the back of my throat.

His screams rang through the room when a second bullet hit his collar bone in just the right place. Shatters the bone completely but leaves the nerves alone so the victim suffered excruciating pain. He wouldn't bleed out from this one either. Oh no, he wasn't allowed to die yet.

"Do you want to know the other reason I shot you?" I whispered. He jolted back in his seat, tears falling from his eyes as whimpers slid from his trembling lips. I wiped away one of his tears, still smiling.

"N-No." He breathed.

I tilted my head.

"Your screams drown out the voices," I touched the barrel of my gun to my temple. "And those voices are very protective of my little sister." I leaned even closer to him as I spoke.

Sweat rolled down his neck in both fear and pain.

"Why would you want to drown them out then?" Quinn seemed genuinely curious, so I figured it couldn't hurt. You see, I didn't make the mistake of monologuing and then letting the victim escape. I always end up killing them. But what's the fun with having prey if you don't keep them alive for a little bit?

"Because I need information from you and if they're all screaming at me to tear you apart in all the lovely ways I know how to, I'd never get what I need. And what a pity that would be." I mock-pouted at him right before I jabbed my thumb into the hole in his shoulder.

Wowwie.

I nearly forgot that there were men with such capable vocal cords. Quinn's voice was deep but, jeez Louise, were his screams high pitched.

I wanted to look at his vocal cords now. Guess I'd do that after I got what I needed.

"Anything! I'll tell you anything!" His speech was garbled, saliva dripping from his mouth and snot and tears coating the rest of his face. Talk about gross.

"I know you will. But, first, we're going to discuss you calling meu coração a very nasty word." I gave him another smile before digging my thumb even further into his shoulder. (My heart)

I would need to check the glass for cracking after this. He would've made an excellent opera singer.

Oh, wait, I'm pretty sure I could feel a fragment from the bullet! Cool!

"I'm sorry." He sobbed as I pulled away from him. I pursed my lips. I hated a liar and Quinn knew that. How disappointing that he turned out to be one.

"I don't think you are. But don't worry, Quinny-boy," I grinned happily while picking up the karambit he oh so lovingly prepared for me. "You will be."