When the Reaper Judges decide to step in the middle of the circus at nightfall with torrential rain outside, no one can do anything but wait for two things: soul reaping or recruitment. The Lindström siblings avoided that moment at all costs, but ho...
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❝ ... Capable fucking failures We let it ride, like rookies at the table We let it die, alone in the fallout We deserve the fate we've enabled ❞
▬ HOLLOW SHELL, Fit For an Autopsy
A violent rain fell in abundance that night, the force that it hit the windows demanding attention was enough to drown out screams and sounds of gunshots, which happened in the simple room of the cheapest hotel that the two dealers who had just come out of an explosion in the middle of the night, could pay in hurry.
Little Mouse slowly followed a drop of water leave a wet path on the window glass while her vision was still blurred, feeling the tiredness of her body begging for a dry bed and warm blankets for her damp feet still trapped inside the combat boots.
Brother Volkova was in that talk about brotherhood for hours and she struggled internally to stay awake, he had broken a lamp on her face making her head spin and throb with pain, but it was her big mouth that made her and Hawk handcuffed and taking a brutal beating.
Hawk, who had won a broken arm and two punches to the ears, just laughed at every word that came out of Volkova's spit mouth, along with slaps on the face from the old man. Oh man, James would be so pissed off about it.
Volkova held Mouse's face forcing her to look at him, his attention now locked on the timid crucifix that hung around the dealer's neck. He slid his fingers over her chest and snatched with disdain, like a mere necklace bathing in silver.
"Faith healer" Mr. Volkova let out a soft laugh, translating the latin letters so delicately carved into the silver of the crucifix and he hated it. He wanted to break it. He wanted to tear them apart. He wanted to wrench that damn smile from their faces even if he had to break every bone in Hawk's arm or Mouse's nose.
But Hawk and Mouse didn't stop smiling. Brother Volkova didn't know they were torture resistant dealers, Thomas and James had personally trained them for it so that's why after a few punches they just stopped feeling pain, the effort Volkova and his men made was no longer useful, it was wasted work.
"You do not seem to be the religious type, child" Volkova threw the crucifix on the floor and pulled the chair closer, lowering his face to her height. "Just answer my question, dealer. I'm starting to get exhausted"
"My second boss won't like this, you know. My face, Hawk's arm-" Mouse came back to the moment and recovered the air, relaxing her body "Fuck, he'll fucking gonna hate it, sir. Like a fucking lot"
"But why? We're just talking, Blackcorvin girl. There's no need for being mad with this because-" he used the handle of his gun to give another severe blow to her face "I think you are better this way, all fucked up"
"Oh, I agree with you but he's still gonna hate" Mouse laughed as she felt the taste of her own blood run down the throat and the blond man rolled his eyes "I warned your boys they should have spared my face at least. No offences, Hawk"
