𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐬... ❧ ᴏᴅᴜ & ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🌱EP. Six; That's so Macabre

Our favorite cemetery man is here, and alive. :]

Gore warning btw-

．．． Ｐｒｏｃｅｓｓｉｎｇ ．．．
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．．． Ｌｏｃｋｅｄ ａｎｄ Ｌｏａｄｅｄ ．．．

𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵; Macabre_Day
(ᴬᵖᵖᵉᵃʳᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᴹᵃᵈᵉ; ᴾˡᵃᶜⁱᵈ_ᴰᵃʸ)

⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆

"Finally, home..."
      You breathe a sigh of relief when you are standing upon the single step in front of the door.
      Macabre stops himself a few feet away, his gaze off somewhere else while you stand awkwardly– waiting for him to say something.
      Almost the entire trek home was in silence; you had spent an evening talking to Dreadful and Radiant, and were tired enough not to want to converse with another person... Especially someone as dangerous as Macabre.
      You worried of saying something he'd disagree on, and shoot your head off in response.
      Although, as you walked, you came to realize he wasn't there for a conversation either– which very well could have been him being unsure of what to say, seeing as operatives can't ask many questions to get to know a person.
      Since they have access to it, they will already know your name, where you live, your date of birth, your career and relationship status... And a long list of other things.

You are just about to open your mouth, when he finally announces his departure.
      "Well, lamb, I best be on my way now," he says with a smile, turning his gaze back to you. "Our Supreme [LEADER]'s Bodyguard is usually active around this time, and you know what that means..."
      Your thoughts turn to thinking about Scary_Day, which makes you gulp in response to Macabre; in a brief sense of relief, you're reassured that out of the two scariest operatives that lurk about– it was the graveyard keeper that you happened to run into.
      "Y-yeah, so I would rather not still be standing out here."
      He puffs out a small chuckle, his silver hued eye still lingering on your stiff figure.
      "Of course," he begins to turn his body away from you, lifting his arm to give you a slight wave. "See you tomorrow, I look forward to your assistance."
      Without another word, he trails off down the street towards the shopping district; leaving you to watch after him.
     "Me, assisting him?" You wonder in worry and confusion. You were under the impression that he would be the one helping you, not the other way around...
     "Just what was he on about..."
      You just as quickly shake away the thoughts, instead deciding to focus on putting on clean bandages and getting to bed.
     You'll deal with tomorrow, when tomorrow comes.

The muffled sound of distant gunfire is what you awake to.
     And as you got prepared for the day ahead of you, the bouts of random shots could be occasionally heard.
     You initially thought it was the Union military practicing as they often do, but as you step out the door of your residence– you are hit with a cold silence.
    "Whatever."
     You've experienced more chilling feelings within the city, gunfire abruptly ending is nothing.
     After locking the door, you begin your daily trek down the street, observing your surroundings as you make your way through your neighborhood.
     Nothing out of the ordinary, which is good. So you continue on to the next– and this is when your pretty slow morning turns into a quickened heart rate very fast.
     As your gaze steadies upon the lumps littering the street ahead of you, movement near them causes you to shift your focus to the tall figure approaching you.
    Macabre_Day.
    "I'm pleasantly surprised you're so punctual, lamb," he chimes before reaching you.
     You force the wad in your throat to go down, trying your best not to dwell on the dark red stains on his clothes, or the messy scene that lies behind him.
     "Good morning, sir," you greet, dipping your head a little bit.
     His expression gives you the impression that he's taken aback by your actions, and you wonder if he knows the fact that you don't refer to his co-workers as "sir".
     So why the special treatment for him? You suppose it's your way of hoping not to get on his bad side.
     He just as quickly dismisses the thought, instead turning his body to give you a clear line of view to the corpses.
     "You're just in time to help clean up," he grins, which leaves a empty feeling in your core.
     "M-me?" You stammer as you count the bodies... Thirteen, thirteen rotting, bloody sacks of meat.
     "You're the City's [CLEANER], no?"
     Oh, right...
     A second figure steps out from around a corner of a residence, and seeing him leaves you nervous and expecting to see a third one.
     Because where The Acolyte is, it usually means he's following The Bodyguard around; fortunately, this is not the case this time around, which eases your anxiety.
     It's been quite some time since you've last seen him... The last time being when he was staring at you from the dark corners of the theatre.
     His pale blue eyes are already on you as he approaches the two of you, and when he finally stops in his tracks, his gaze shifts to Macabre.
     "Twenty-five casualties," he reports, which leaves you picking your jaw off the ground, and Macabre only continues to smile eerily.
     "TWENTY-FIVE?!" You blurt, already feeling exhausted thinking about how much physical labor lies ahead.
     "Seems like we have a long day ahead of us," Macabre replies whilst clapping his hands together.
     Placid glances towards your pale face, and adds a comment in hopes of easing your feelings of dread.
     "Macabre and I will be doing most of the heavy lifting, all you must do is bag them and scrub the streets."
     You still are not reassured... But you're hardly in a position to complain; so you just nod and accept your fate.