Hate you - DNF/Karlnap

20

Art by DeepFriedFury
TW - murder
CW - swearing

GEORGE -

Tears slid quickly down my cheeks as I stared at Dream. He was sitting beside my bed, his hand was holding mine as it lay limply by my side. I reached up with my free hand and wiped away my tears, embarrassed. He frowned, looking worried.
"Georgie, whats wrong?" Dream asked soothingly, brushing some of my hair out of my face. I took a shaky breath.

"It hurts," I said, letting a sob overwhelm me. It hurts that you don't remember me, that you don't love me, that I lost you. Dream nodded sympathetically. He clearly thought I was talking about the extensive bruises covering my body. They hurt a little but I'd been through worse, being an assassin meant you became used to injuries, usually injuries worse than a few bruises.

Dream was still holding my hand and the part of me that still wanted to be seventeen years old didn't want to let go. I just wanted to pretend for a moment that I was back in Dream's childhood room, holding his hand as we did homework together, lying in his arms as we watched a movie, falling asleep to the sound of his soft singing. More tears slid down my cheeks and I cursed myself for the show of weakness.

Dream leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him in a comforting way. I desperately wanted to push him away but I knew I couldn't, I had to keep up my act. I kept reminding myself that all of it would be worth it in the end. After all this whole thing would tear him apart. I needed my revenge. And I was going to get it, even if it meant letting myself fall back into his arms after so long alone. I would take him down. Brick by brick.

I lay in Dream's arms, sobbing for almost an hour. I must've dozed off at some point because when I opened my eyes again, he was nowhere to be seen and I was alone in his bed. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked around his room. It looked similar to the one he used to have, a gaming set up in one corner, bookshelf in the other. I noticed my phone on the bedside table and I reached for it.

I fumbled to call Sapnap. I needed to get out of that house. He picked up after only a few rings.
"George, are you okay?" He asked immediately, he'd clearly had time to reflect on his actions of beating the absolute shit out of me. It didn't sound like he found it funny anymore.
"I'm fine, can you message Techno please. I need a mission. Now," I climbed out of bed as I spoke. I was still in my clothes from yesterday, my hoodie was gone though, probably because it was covered in blood.

"I'll call him now," Sapnap said.
"Thanks," I muttered.
"Love you brother," Sap responded, his voice soft. I hummed in response. I had trouble expressing my emotions. I used to be fine, before Dream forgot me. I had no issues with feelings and emotions. I'd forgotten how to be open a long time ago. My ability to express love seemed to have died with Dream's memory of me.

Sapnap hung up and I made my way out of Dream's room and over to mine. I quickly changed my clothes into tight fitting black pants and a black turtleneck. They'd be good for going on a mission, flexible and perfect for blending into the shadows. I grabbed my mask from its hidden drawer in the back of my closet. Quackity had put my voice distorted back after I'd passed out so Dream wouldn't start asking questions or getting suspicious.

I waited, sitting on my bed until Sapnap called me back. I picked up immediately.
"You've got a job. I'll email you the details. Immediately delete them once you've memorised them," He said quickly. I thanked him, excitement filling me. I hung up and jumped over to my emails. The first thing in my inbox was the details of my job.

OPERATIVE NOTFOUND: FLORIDA MISSION #2

Target: Connor E. Pants
Age: 27
Job: Associate of the Amigops, he gathers information on rival organisations

Official mission: Find and kill Connor Pants

I grinned, excited to be back in the field. I scribbled a quick note to Dream before exiting my room out of the window.

————

Connor was in his living room when I arrived at his house. I could hear the tv blaring through the open window and I smirked. He was careless. He was practically begging for someone to find him and murder him. His foolishness was almost laughable. I felt relaxed, calm, I was in my element.

I scaled the side of the building, my foot gripping onto the small curves in the bricks, I clambered through the upstairs window without too much difficulty, I'd done this sort of thing many times before. Almost silently, I slipped out of the bedroom I'd climbed into and made my way down the stairs, pulling my mask lower over my face as I did.

Connor hadn't heard me enter, he was still fixated on the tv which was playing some sort of comedy show. He laughed loudly and I took the distraction of the noise to pull out the small vile of poison tucked into my pocket and step forward so I was directly behind him.

"Hello Connor," I said after a moment. He broke his eyes away from the tv and looked at me, his eyes filling with fear.
"Who the fuck are you?" He asked shakily. I smiled, it was full of fake sympathy.
"I'm sorry to hear about your heart attack," I whispered. He looked confused.
"What? What heart attack? I haven't-"

I cut him off by pouring the vile of poison by his throat. I didn't wait to see how he would react, I knew it was going to make its way directly to his heart and kill him with all traces of a heart attack being left behind. The coroner would deem it as such and no more questions would be asked. It was the perfect murder.

God it felt good to be back in business. I was in my element once more.

Word count - 1062

A/N -
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