Jamilton Oneshots // Hamilton ✔️

Halloween [JAMILTON]

ayy i never watched halloween but i'm writing this anyway because micheal myers is my spirit animal

~~~

"So, all I have to do is kill everyone who opens the door to me?" I ask John, taking the knife from his hand and running it across my wrists lovingly. John nods, handing me a gun to go in my other hand. I smile, shooting at the target across the room.

"That's right. But we do have a target, actually," John mumbles to me, throwing a knife at another target board, "Alexander Hamilton. He's nineteen, but somehow he has an entire ordeal with us already. The police hired him as an investigator after the kid solved a crime that had been going on for forty years. He's onto us now. Get him out."

I nod slowly, thinking, "What a young age," I say, although I'm only twenty-two, "What a dangerous occupation."

John nods his head, "You're right. No matter what he does, tons of criminals organizations already want to kill him. If we don't take him out now, we won't get the victory of killing the kid and he'll end up going after more organizations after us."

The door to the garage slams open and closed as James Madison stalked foward, "He has accomplices too. I saw him the other day in an alleyway, talking to some guy with a beard. Sounded French."

John started at him, his mouth open and his eyes large, "You saw a target and you didn't kill him?!" He screamed, taking a knife from his belt and pulling it above James' head. James continued to stand calm as he pushed John away. He spoke again when his head was in no danger.

"I was getting my groceries with my wife and children!" He explained. John shrunk, most likely remembering his own dead wife and children, "I'm sorry..." James suddenly realized his mistake, reaching out a hand to pat John.

"I don't want or need your sympathy." The boy snapped, pushing James away. He left the room in a hurry, but he left a wet spot on the garage floor from where one of the tears cascading down his face as fallen. I grimaced, watching James hurry out of the garage after John.

Neither of them were here anymore.

It was time for me to go trick-or-treating.

~~~

"Plea-Please don't hurt-hurt my childr-children!" The woman yelled, putting her hands up in front of her. The open door behind us was slammed close by my foot as I watched her in disgust, "Please!" She yelled again, falling the wooden floor and crying.

Behind her, a teenage girl came running down the stairs, "Mama..?" Her sentence started, but ended when she saw me. Her scream was beautiful. I watched her run back up the stairs.

Taking the knife down on the girl's mother, I stabbed her a total of twenty times and stalked upstairs slowly. Halfway there, I heard heavy breathing coming from a closet in the stairway hall. I made it to the top without a noise being made, pulled the closet door open, and stabbed the girl forty times.

Before the first blow, I asked her, "Do you have any siblings?"

"Bro-Brother."

I killed her brother next.

~~~

Killing families are fun, but not so fun when the night is coming to an end and you still haven't met your target or his friends. I stagger down the last street in my "prisoner" Halloween costume. Children run with their parents behind them. Some of them carry flashlights, some of them use their phones.

I scowl at them all as I walk past and knock on the final door.

It takes a little bit before the door creaks open to reveal a disheveled looking boy. He had long hair down to his shoulders and a clown costume on. He chuckled at me, greeting, "Thomas Jefferson. I knew you'd come. I know everything."

I stayed silent, following him into the house without a word of protest. My left hand clenched around the knife in my pocket as my right clenched the gun.

"How about you hand over your weapons? Maybe then I'll give you a sweet kiss?" His words were like sugar, but I could see past his lust-filled eyes and seductive smile. It was all a trick, designed to make me want to submit to him. I shook my head, pulling the gun out.

"I won't submit to you, you bitch!" I screamed, pointing the gun at him, "Put your hands up, get on the floor."

Alex held up his hands defensively, but didn't get on the floor, "Treating the officer like a prisoner now, are we? And what costume do you have on?"

I looked down, glancing merely at the orange jumpsuit I was wearing and scowled. Of course, John gave me this costume to wear. It fit me perfectly, since it was basically all I wore last year before my prison break. I put my finger on the trigger.

"I'm not a prisoner." I muttered, running my finger along the trigger.

"Oh, but you wouldn't shoot me," Alexander whispered, "Right? I promise, I'll be good."

My finger pulled the trigger back and I watched Alexander's expression turn from seductive to immediate fear. He dodged the bullet, but it broke through the baggy part of his shirt. He smiled.

"On the floor." I growled.

"Oh, I wouldn't tell an officer that." Alexander answered, his seductivness down the drain. I stared him down, before feeling two hard bullets pierce my back. I fell to my floor, turning my back and catching a glimpse of a bearded frenchman look at my falling body.

"Thank you, Lafayette." I heard Alexander. My body fell to the floor. Alexander stood on one side, the supposed Lafayette on the other. My eyes were half open as they kissed above me, their left hands intertwined as Alexander shot me again with the gun in his right hand.

It hit my chest, breaking my heart.

~~~

ha. i killed thomas--