Butterflies Volume II

Chapter 11

By the time they arrived it was night; desolate buildings lit up by foggy streetlights that hid the horrid graffiti underneath. You could see the shift in tone towards the Supes from Homelander with his eyes crossed out to The Deep getting rather close with some sea creatures. Violet sat close to the window of the van to get the full effect, as after all, your first time abroad is always exciting. Though exciting in a different way of course. The street art shocked her but in no way surprised her with Vought's reputation across the ocean it was evident they would not be favoured. But it was creepy in the dark, like they took her nightmares and slapped them on the concrete walls of every building they passed.

They had reached an abandoned gas station to be their refuge, Butcher unable to get them more comfort than the damp cold they were used to. The streets were lonely apart from them, and as Violet stepped out of the van it was cemented just how much she wished it wasn't her first foreign country. Inside the small box TV told of Hughie and Annie's break up, which he failed to mention in the 15 hours they spent in a tin can. Although unable to understand Russian the image spliced Annie and Homelander together, which again Hughie failed to mention. She was baffled, the same as he was.

The pair were kissing, Violet rubbed her eyes to see if they were deceiving her. As Hughie shot up to turn off the TV she just froze, because what she knew was certain was that display was all fake, all manufactured. And that scared her. The idea Annie was there and Hughie was here, shitting himself just to see them on TV. Her and M.M. gave him a look as he fumbled to turn the screen off, though perhaps her face was more worried than intrigued.

"Good news," Butcher announced, "Nina's had a word with her Kremlin piss boys, and she's located the lab."

"That's great. Where is it?" Hughie asked.

But it wasn't that simple, "before she tells us that, we just got to do a little job for her. Ain't nothing. Just some local oligarch who got in her bad books."

Frenchie stood up and shook his head, "Non. I don't do this anymore. Definitely not for Nina."

"Well that's a good job then innit? Cause you're not the one doing it. She is."

He spun and pointed a finger to Kimiko who was sat resting her head on her hand. She glanced up confused like the rest of them, only Butcher having a smile on his face.

"Sorry, love, victim of your own success," he continued, "now, Nina's got you in. You'll be the wanker's pro girl for the night. You just get in there, give the cunt a good noose, and get the fuck out. Easy-peasy."

Violet and Frenchie both gaped at him like two parents. And it was evident Kimiko was not interested either as her face turned sour. She should have known Nina would want more, but to play prostitute was not what they did, it was not what Kimiko did. Frenchie trudged forward, tapping Butcher's arm to tell him no, but as always he was persistent. Persistent in his attempts to be the biggest asshole the world had to see.

"Look Frenchie, it was this of Cherie's head. Fucking hell. No good deed."

Kimiko smacked his shoulder and showed him her phone with the words, "I'm not your fucking gun" in a lovely large text size for him to see. Violet folded her arms and grinned.

"She's right," she said, "you can't just throw her in because you know that'll cause the most carnage. If anything... We should both go, I've never heard a pervert complain to have two for the price of one."

"V-"

"No she's right," Frenchie joined in, "I would feel a lot better for Mon Coeur if Miss Violet go too."

Butcher turned round to the two of them, "I don't remember either you being in charge. I tell you what to do, and you fucking do it."

"She goes, I go," Violet stood up to him.