[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XPHUL9l.png[/img][/center] [hr] [indent] [b]BLOODLETTING 1.2.1 [/b] [b]Date:[/b] 1990 [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izNAYx66rEE] “Jesus, what a mess.” [/url] Huh. Larry was the master of understatements. In his fifteen years of service, Eric had never seen a murder quite like this. The small little tenement had gone through a redecoration and not a funhouse kind. Even with the thick iron-rich aroma of blood in the air, the familiar pang of the needle stung his nostrils. The blonde one had her entrails ripped out and hung on the ceiling like party streamers. There was no one left alive at the scene. Well, he was wrong on that count. There was one survivor in his arms. He almost felt uncomfortable being handed the position of babysitter asLarry sifted through the mess, mussing through the victim’s hair. “ Any relatives?,” Eric asked, his voice muffled by the ski mask he was wearing. “ Not that we know of.” Larry grunted, fiddling with the radio chatter on his handheld scanner. “ All we know is the identity of his mother.” He motioned to the corpse splayed over on the mattress, periwinkle hair matted with blood with a mackerel-eyed look to compliment it. “ We’ve got about a dozen Brooks in the registry and hospital records have turned a blank. He’s got no one.” “ So, what do we do?” “ I go and spruce things up so that the EMTs aren’t spooked by the time they get here. You….” He looked away from the child cradled in Eric’s arms as his voice became terse. “ Just make it quick.” Still refusing to look at the infant in his arms, Larry slinked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving Eric and one kid that was barely a day old. Eric stood there, unmoving, just staring at the door before he gradually craned his neck down to look at the listless gaze of the baby. His eyes were still slit shut, almost at zen, if it weren’t for the palpitations of soft little exhales that he felt through the blanket. He set him down on the mattress with a gentleness that perturbed him. Why was he being so careful? It was just going to cause more pain in the end. “ Sorry, kid. This ain’t personal.” In all his years of killing, Eric had seen grown men brown their shorts, their throats clam up as they looked into the centre of the barrel, searching maybe for a light of some sort in there, a way out. There was always the briefest kindling of hope in their eyes which died out the moment he pulled the trigger. The little bastard didn’t even react when he pulled out the pistol in front of him. His eyes then slowly filtered open and they were little eddies of brackish brown, brimming with curiosity and indifference. The gun feels 100 pounds heavier the moment he makes eye contact. The little bastard doesn’t even have the proper conception of what a gun is. Of what death is. Of what fear is. Of how to experience life to its fullest. The 10 grand for the job feels measly compared to what he’s potentially taking away now. There’s no price that can be paid for that. So, he makes the hard decision. He closes the blanket over the baby’s head, sighs deeply and then, loads a fresh magazine. He fiddles with the threaded silencer whilst errantly switching his index finger from the guard to the trigger. What needs to be done next….it’s necessary. There’s no other way. He checks the window outside to make sure the coast is clear before taking slow steps into the living room. He makes out the faint sounds of Larry’s loafers squeaking against the frayed shag carpeting. “ Did you - “ Larry’s face became paralyzed like a deer in headlights. He dropped the plastic bag of soap bottles and crumpled tissues and the canvas bag of other miscellaneous crap, drugs, whatever was in there to make it look like a gang shooting and not the targeted work of a serial killer. “ Woah, easy there, Eric. Easy. Let’s just talk this out.” “Get down. Put your hands on your head.” “ C’mon, man.” Larry was inching towards him, putting on a disarming smile as his eyes flicked towards the barrel pointed at him. “ We’ve been - what? Partners for 2 years - “ He didn’t have time for stalling. He aimed the pistol upwards above Larry’s head and fired. A puff of concrete erupted behind Larry’s head, causing him to duck to the ground. “ I said, get down on your knees!” “ Okay! Okay!” Larry’s face was ashen, ghost-faced. To his credit, he didn’t begin blubbering nor make any prostestations as Eric pressed his foot down on his back. There was about a minute of silence as Eric pressed the silencer against the back of his head, Larry’s head planted to the ground in a way that made it look like he was praying. His finger trembled on the guard before he spoke like he was making an excuse. “ Killing a kid wasn’t what I signed up for, Buchinsky” Larry replied with a short bark of bitter laughter. “ That’s where you draw the line? After all the crap you pulled in the past, you really think one life is going to clean all the skeletons in your closet?” “ No.” His grip on the pistol tightened, his voice resolute. “.... but this is just one skeleton too many….and I’m tired of Frost’s lies.” Larry’s brains sprayed out all over the linoleum floor when he pulled the trigger. Each time he pulled, his body twitched erratically, his foot thumping on the floor like a bird with a broken wing. Eric watched as blood oozed out in a puddle underneath his still body. He took his foot off Larry's back and flipped him over. The bullet had gone clean through the other side, leaving a perfectly round hole in between his eyes. “ Goddammit, Needham.” The Black Spider pulled off his mask, grumbling. “ How the hell are you going to sneak out of this one now?” [/indent]