Itsy Bitsy Spider

1. Glistening Scarlet

Chrollo smiled at the sheer amount of people in front of him. All so helpless and doomed, yet the fire in their eyes, furious and defiant, was burning brightly. Not bright enough though, for him. These weren't nearly the brilliant shade of red he had heard of from the incompetent auctioneers; a dim version of the awestruck descriptions he had been given. They were lacking in beauty. Which meant that the people were lacking in emotion. How to fix this problem?

"Feitan," Chrollo said, giving the slightest of nods.

Feitan grinned behind his skull bandana. They'd discussed what to do in this situation back at the base, and he was more than happy to carry it out. Grumbling a short response, Feitan strolled into the crowd tied up in Machi's strings, glaring right back at the ones who eyed him with hate. Tch. Who were they to glare at him? He made a small show of stepping over the dead bodies, the bodies of the useless people who married into the clan. The ones who didn't hold the treasure of the Scarlet Eyes. Some of the other Spiders had ripped their eyes out as well to test whether they would change, but in vain. There purposefully leaving their faces forever in strips and scars as a warning to the other clansmen.

All those remaining—those with the true genetic mutation they were after—now struggled to even look at Feitan, the sight of the bodies lying marred on the dirt almost too much for them. Some turned as much as they could and vomited, heaving and shaking. Amidst them all was one who stayed clutched to his mother despite not being tied up. Feitan's eyes latched onto him. Idiot.

The mother wiped at her child's face as best she could with Machi's threads tied around her wrists, and Feitan could see the tears welling up. "Please. Run away." Her whispering was soft, harsh, and frantic. "Okay? Can you do that for me sweetie?" the mother pleaded with her child. "Or for Kurapika. Do it for him. Please, just please, make it out alive-"

"Mother," the boy asked, turning his head to look at his clansmen around him. Half lay on the ground, bloody and dead. The others were standing tall despite nen threads threatening to cut into their skin, fighting back quivering lips and shaky limbs. His eyes, still a warm brown as he examined the scene around him, locked with Feitan's. "Who are they?"

Perfect. Feitan grabbed the boy from his mother, ignoring her cries. He held the boy up by the back of his shirt, tip of his sword pointed at his soft throat, more for show than anything else. He knew he could easily kill the boy with his bare hands, but the sword increased the feeling of power he held for those around him. Actually... rethinking, Feitan slashed lightly at the boy's arm, so not to make the boy feel anything (lest he squirm), but so there would be blood. His mother's screams were drawing the attention of the entire clan. Even more perfect.

"No! Please!" Her trembling arms reached towards Feitan, pleading. "Kill me! He hasn't done a-any-anything! Just leave him alone, please, have mercy, and kill me instead, please, kill me, leave him..." She choked on her pathetic sobs, allowing the rest of the clan to shout in her place.

"Drop him!"

"Why are you doing this?"

"You'll all regret-"

"Ex-excuse me."

Feitan's gaze darted to the kid hanging from his fingertips. He pressed the blade closer, the crowd's panicked screams meaning nothing.

He didn't know why Machi had failed to tie him up, or why the child was passing up such a golden opportunity to make his escape. But it all worked out in the Spider's favor. Yet, as he held the edge of his sword to the boy's neck, he didn't seem to be getting a response. The boy's eyes looked around, but they were dimmed, and now that Feitan was observing closer, kind of murky.