Others Like Me - Hotline Miami Fanfiction

Chapter 13

"Where'd you get the station wagon?" Corey asked as Tony pulled up in a tan colored Ford with tacky wood siding. He narrowed his eyes as she struggled to scanned his newly acquired vehicle under the flickering street lamp. He scoffed before answering. "Where do you think?" She stiffened for a moment, probably still unused to the idea of preforming illegal activities. They were about to commit mass murder tonight, murder of Jacket proportions, and still she was acting like a damn civilian. Tony had never felt like an average jack-off so he couldnt even comprehend her reservations, even if he wanted to.

Corey looked around nervously, before opening the back door and throwing in a duffel bag of tools. He grimaced under his mask, as he looked back at the bag from the rear view mirror. She had asserted herself as the planner for their upcoming massacre. Tony had felt that he owed it to her, and had done his best to play along. He regretted it immediately. She had become hyper sensitive to any criticism or tweak to her plan, and would go on and on over every little detail of the operation to explain her reasoning.

Tony could now just grit his teeth at how over complicated and idiotic it all had become. Like something out of a James Bond flick, but far less entertaining, Corey had spent the entire day planning, scouting, questioning, even staking out the location of their hit, studying for patterns, and anything else to delay them from getting to the bloodshed. Tony was all but tuned out of the planning process at this point, he didnt care how they did it, as long as they got into a building with some dirtbags. His fists would do the rest.

Corey sat in the front passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Tony hit the gas, pulling out in front of some idiot who blared his horn at them as they sped off. "Slow down Tony. We dont want to get a ticket in a stolen vehicle..." Corey grumbled as Tony weaved through traffic. "Relax, I'm a fucking pro at this." Tony said confidently, tailgating the car in front of him until he eventually passed and cut the driver off, raising a middle finger to the back window as the driver blared away on his little horn.

Corey scrambled to get her seat belt on as Tony smiled smugly from under his mask. She brushed the hair from her eyes and watched him curiously for a moment, her zebra mask absent from her face. He was clad head to toe in his vigilante gear, his blood stained mask, boots, a tight fitting black t shirt, cargo pants, with one new addition, a military combat vest.

Corey studied it carefully for a moment before speaking. "That looks like the vests you wore back in Hawaii." Corey said thoughtfully, no doubt vividly recalling their military "glory" days. Tony shrugged. "Thats because it is the vest I wore in Hawaii." He said. She blinked and stared at him, probably thinking of new and exciting questions to ask him, on how he had stole his military vest out from under Uncle Sam's nose, but he didnt have the patience for twenty questions right now.

Tony ignored Corey. He was busy thinking violent, hateful thoughts. He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel and rocked himself back and forth, as he tried to tap into the primal passions that had all but overwhelmed him the last time they were this close to the action. He grit his teeth, attempting to force his violent rage back to the surface, but something was in the way, blocking him from it, like a cinder block resting on his heart.

He cursed himself under his breath through clenched teeth, as Corey fidgeted in the back. Her ass was practically resting on his shoulder as she rooted around in her bag for her zebra mask. She nearly fell to the floor of the station wagon as Tony made a tight turn, his mind still consumed by his racing thoughts.

Tony winced, deep down he knew why he was having trouble immersing himself into his rage. He had quit on himself. It was only for a moment, a moment of weakness, but that was all it took to put a chink in his mental armor. A hole, a flaw... Tony couldnt afford any flaws. In no way did he doubt his physical prowess, he was still the same killing machine he was before, but he had revealed something horrible. Deep down there was something weak, something wretched and worse... something human inside of him. He felt honest-to-god regret for killing that tattooed low life's skull. Regret... regret was the most pointless, worthless emotion somebody could ever entertain. One of the few lessons his old man had taught him, before walking out on him and his mom, was how regret could destroy a man. Tony was not his father, he refused to be anything like that fucking prick.