Murder At The Hotel (DISCONTINUED)

turn the lights off

Taco opened the door to OJ's office, slipping in as quickly as possible to minimize the risk of being spotted. Closing the door behind her and turning around as she began to berate OJ. "Okay, how did you possibly manage to mess up—"

Fully facing OJ, she felt a rush of anger at the sight. OJ was slumped in his chair, small snores escaping from his lips. He slept like a baby. Upon closer inspection, Taco could see the dark circles underlining his eyes. She didn't know if she wanted to snarl at that idiot for being so utterly stupid and lazy or laugh at the pitiful sight. 

Just as Taco took a step towards him, ready to shake him awake, a bone-chilling scream erupted from OJ. Frightened, a small shriek escaped from Taco, and she leapt back. Slapping her hand over her mouth, her face began to burn. She prayed OJ was to disoriented to comprehend the noise that had come from her mouth. 

OJ's eyes darted wildly around the room, panting like he had forgotten how to breathe. His eyes were glossy; he was clearly fighting back tears. "Taco?" he whispered, his voice small and croaky.  OJ looked like a sad, lost child desperate for comfort. Taco felt a pang of sympathy for him, but swiftly pushed it back down. She didn't feel sympathy. Sympathy fell into the category of emotions she deemed 'vulnerable' and therefore a weakness.

"What?" Taco scowled, her voice laced with venom. "Have a nice nap, sweetheart?" 

OJ seemed to physically recoil, as if her words were a wild animal; ready to pounce and rip his face off at any given moment. He looked away, his face scrunched up like he was trying not to cry. "Just go," he murmured, his voice shaky. 

A flare of pure rage rose inside Taco. This absolute imbecile was about to throw all the time, effort and planning they did to make this plan away with both hands. All because he had a bad dream, they should forget about it. Taco had nightmares all the time, and it never stopped her, so why should OJ be any different?

"No!" she hissed. "You don't get to do this!" Stomping up to his desk, Taco swiped her arms across the table, wiping everything off. All the papers, his lamp and phone... all of it. "We put so much effort into this! And you're throwing it away—for WHAT!?" 

OJ drew himself up in his chair. A stream of tears were drizzling down his cheeks. "Because what we're doing is SICK!" he roared, his voice raw with misery. "Don't treat this like its some sort of business venture!" Taco was taken aback. She had heard OJ yell so much, it didn't make much of an impression on her anymore, but this... this was so much worse. So much different. Never had she heard so much pain cramped into one scream. 

"I just want it to stop," he said plaintively, like a small child and slumped back into his chair. His head slid back into his hands and his whole body began to shake with sobs. "Please." A lengthy pause drew out the tension even longer. Taco glowered at OJ's pathetic form, considering her options. 

"If you won't do it I will," Taco said finally, her voice dangerous and low. OJ looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn together tightly. Smiling, she leaned forward teasingly. "...you know who will be number one on my hit list." 

OJ shot up out of his chair and practically pounced at Taco. Panic glittered in his eyes. "NO!" he yelled, gripping her shoulders tightly, alarming seeping into his voice. "You said you wouldn't!" 

Taco flinched back, pushing him off of her. "I would," she countered, giving him a withering look. OJ's eyes were so wide it looked ridiculous; it was like they were gonna pop out of his head. "You remember what the deal was, right?"

OJ staggered back as if he had been physically injured, pressing the heel of his wrist to his temples. He looked on the verge of a psychotic break. A haughty grin tugged at Taco's lips. She had him cornered, right where she wanted him. With the deal being the only thin layer of protection OJ could offer to his beloved, it was the perfect opportunity for Taco.

"Fine, I'll do it," OJ replied darkly, bringing his arms down to his side, his hands curled tightly in fists. He glared at Taco with pure white-hot hatred. Taco had to resist the urge to scoff in his face. He always got like this when Taco was close to going back on their promise. "Don't lay a finger on him."

Taco offered him a disgustingly sunny smile. 

Everything was falling into its right place.

A/N: i revamped chap 1 to help fit this narrative more. you don't have to reread to make sense of anything. i will also be rewriting and editing some of the earlier chapters, as most of them are pretty low effort :P i'll probably also be renaming some chapters, so if you see any unfamiliar chapter names it's probably just that