FLOWERS

Foxglove

The warm glow of the summer sun beamed down on the love entwined killers as the made there way through an abandoned factory building, looking for something that Sam wasn't quite sure of. Because of Lilly's lack of audible vocalization along with her eery leadership style, in which one would do her every biding just out of the curiosity to see what horrid atrocity she was sure to do next, Sam found it difficult to ever really know what they were doing. Normally he would follow in silence behind the terrifying enigma that was his wife, waiting to see what trouble they would find themselves in. He trusted her, no matter what, though. Whether that be because of blind infatuation with her or her consistency of getting the two out of any situation utterly and completely unscathed no matter how impossible the predicament. Sam had found that Lilly always knew the solution. She was always steps ahead of whatever was happening, and even when she wasn't, her lax personality and disregard for any and all obstacles in her path, always managed to disregard all logic and keep her unscathed throughout the endeavor. Sam couldn't understand how someone like that could survive such a problem-filled environment. Especially an environment like theirs. Filled with the cruelest most dangerous people the human mind could comprehend. Sam had spent his existence always prepared for everything to go wrong. And that practice was completely dignified. In a life like his where death and misfortune was an everyday routine, someone would completely understand a position such as that. Sam had lost more in his life than he had ever kept. To this day, the only thing he had on his side was an old sketchbook, a clown mask and his wife. Everything else had fallen through the cracks. Everything else had been lost. How could he NOT be prepared to lose everything else? But Lilly, she lived for loss. She took it in like some sort of drug. Every problem and situation where something horrible would happen seemed to only fuel her lack of giving a shit a little more. And it wasn't like she was depressed and numb to it. No, pain pleasured her. Whether it was someone else's or her own. A sadistic masochist. At least, that was the best Sam could surmise. He found that he knew Lilly less every day he spent with her.

Lilly's head wasn't exactly on that train of thought. In fact, she hadn't really thought about how she looked at the world. For her things just weren't that deep. She was and therefore she lived. She lusted for death and therefore she killed. Simplicity was her tranquility.

The reason she had brought herself and Sam out here was for that exact reason. She needed a hit. It had been 12 days since she had gotten one and she was starting to hear the blood rushing through her head. The sound was starting to make her go insane. After a long period of bloodless hands she would start to shake a little, and if time passed too much she'd bite on her lip until she popped it. And if time still ticked on, she'd be running a blade down her wrists. And after that... well, she had never gotten further than that. But she knew it wouldn't be good.

She walked down one hallway, empty of any life, and then went down another. Then they found him. He was filthy, hairy, old and most importantly, alive. Lilly pulled her hunting knife from her pocket and readied it for action. She walked slowly towards her victim with the knife held, pointed in his direction, at her side.

Sam saw where this was going and quickly grabbed her arm and stopped her, not completely understanding why he did.

She shot around at him, seeming to growl like a feral dog while baring her teeth. Fire burned in her eyes, ready to strike.

Sam retracted his arm, fearfully and without argument.

She turned back to her kill and proceeded to do her duty.

Sam looked away. Sam didn't mind killing, in fact, some days he loved it, but he didn't like seeing Lilly like this. This animalistic nature that she'd tap into when she hadn't gotten what she wanted. It was her darkest side. A side that only he ever got to see and he was glad for that as he wouldn't want anyone else to see her like this when she was like this. She wasn't Lilly anymore in these moments. She was a monster. And it was happening more frequently now. A weak without a kill never ended well. Two? Sam worried for his own safety. He was pretty sure she would never hurt him, but when she was like this, he wasn't sure.