Sweet Serial Killer [ Riren ]

ONE HUNDRED FORTY FOUR

ONE HUNDRED FORTY FOUR
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When Levi was fourteen, Kenny left him.

Levi had won his first official battle with someone. A renown mafia boss. As just a small, scrawny teenager, it was quite daunting to see him slam a three hundred pound man to the ground and pummel the shit out of him. It struck fear into everyone around. Just from rumors, and a single glance, people knew Levi was dangerous.

They didn't mess with him.

Kenny understood that, so he told Levi that he could be fine on his own for a while. Kenny said that if Levi really ever needed him, he could come and live with him again. Kenny explained that he was moving, somewhere out of the slums and into an actual neighborhood. Well, a trailer park, but a neighborhood nonetheless. He was leaving.

Levi wondered . . . Why aren't you taking me with? But he figured bringing along a teenage delinquent to start a new life wasn't a good idea. Besides, Levi didn't know if he wanted to abandon the status and life he had built up in the ghetto. He felt accomplished here — it was where he was born. A hellhole, but it was his home.

Plus, he had Farlan.

Farlan could be annoying. With his witty comments, smarts, watchfulness, and sarcastic nature, the two tended to butt heads sometimes, but in the end they were a good duo. Levi never would admit it aloud, since he'd always thought he preferred being alone, but all in all Farlan wasn't bad to have at his side. He was . . . Useful.

Like when he'd, well, technically saved Levi from MPs. And there were other times, too. Levi's reaction-time was stunning, almost inhuman, but sometimes his eye didn't catch everything. Like . . . Small details. He could see a sneak attack, he could stop an ambush, but he didn't know how to stop one from happening altogether.

Farlan did.

He noticed everything. He was like . . . An owl. It was a little alarming sometimes. Although, being around Farlan so much was helping Levi pick up on telltale signs of suspicions, too. He was learning, whether he wanted to say it or not. He was garnering new skills, and he was even developing as a person. He grew a (tiny) bit more social.

It was refreshing, even, to be able to talk to someone who somewhat understood you. It felt good to have someone who you knew had your back. It was nice to have someone you could trust, no matter what. Through thick and thin, you knew they'd be there. That was Farlan to Levi. His anchor. His best friend. His right hand man.

So when a new addition to their pair came, Levi was hesitant.

"Oi, Levi, you hear that?" Levi was sitting on the couch they'd taken from a merchant. Levi had beaten the merchant into a pulverized pancake, and threatened to kill him if he didn't hand over the furniture. That was how they got most of their stuff. Looking up, Levi shrugged. "Hear what?" He drawled. He hadn't really been paying attention.

"Stop sharpening the knife and listen, idiot," Farlan chided. His favorite nicknames for Levi were 'idiot' and 'asshat' and Levi's favorite nicknames for Farlan were 'dumbass' and 'shithead' — it seemed negative, but really, it was more of a fond type of calling.

Finally, Levi paused and decided to listen. In the distance, he could hear yelling and hollering. It wasn't that unusual in the ghetto. "Why are you so concerned over this? The usual? Really?" Levi rolled his eyes, trying not to lose his patience. This was why he wasn't even paying attention in the first place — a bunch of background noise.

"Shut up! If you listen to what they're saying, they're chasing after a girl. And they're heading this—" Farlan was interrupted by a loud thud at the door. Alarmed, Farlan sprung to his feet. He rushed towards the door. Before Levi could stop him, he swung it open. A girl looked up at him from the floor. She swallowed, and Levi frowned.