Chapter Two- Pyro or Arson?

No Rest FOr the Wicked
Chapter Two
EncoreDEZiza
All RIghts Reserved
2013

Chapter Two
Pyro or Arson?

“Iz! Come on!”

Grey sat next to Richelle, popping a French Fry in his mouth, “Still pissed?”

“No matter what I say.”

“Well that’s what happens when you tell your best friend to stop being a manipulative b***h.” He shrugged.

“THAT WASN’T EVEN TO HER!” She shrieked, throwing her hands in the air. He held up his hands in surrender and she stole the opportunity to steal a French Fry.

“Don’t shoot the- HEY!” She flicked it into her mouth and winked, savoring the salty piece of heaven. Human’s cried salt, much better than blood if you ask- “You’re lucky you’re cute.” Ashton murmured, tearing her from her thoughts.

“Aren’t I?” He gave her a hard look which quickly melted into a smile by giving him a full-on smile. Unfortunately, their moment was ruined by an ear-shattering scream, bringing both of them to their feet and running full speed into M’s bathroom, where she stood in front of the mirror, hands in hair.

“Oh my God,” Iz whispered, stepping into the bathroom to touch M’s bright pink hair.

Richelle bit her lip to keep from laughing, of course, Ashton had even less control and was on his knees, clutching his shaking ribs, his deep harmonic laughter echoing down the halls. M glared furiously at him and Richelle swiftly stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, leaving Ashton to dwell in the shame of his slacking self-control.

“Now honey,” Richelle began, leaning on the counter, “What did you do to your poor hair?”

“THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” she shrieked, holding up a box of blonde hair dye. Richelle looked back at M, confused. “Why’d it turn pink?”

“M, take Richelle and I through all the steps.” Iz rationalized.

“Okay, well first, I wetted my hair and then I dried it. And then I bleeched it-“

“Wait, what?”

“Let her finish!” Iz hissed, irritated.

Richelle ignored her, “How exactly did you bleach your hair?”

“I emptied the bottle.”

Richelle blinked, “Serioulsy? Why would you do that?” She asked sweetly, trying not to hit a nerve.

“I thought it’d make my hair white, that’s what bleach does, right?”

“No, that’s not what it does. M, bleach lightens your hair.”

“Oh my God!”

“Look, don’t worry about it, okay?” Richelle cooed, stepping forward, she ruffled the long, beautiful, wavy pink hair. It didn’t look that bad. It could be easily fixed as well, “I’ll fix it.”

She gave her a hug of gratitude and Richelle stiffened. She’d forgotten how long it’d been since she’d had a hug. Whether given or taken, it didn’t matter. It’d been too long since she’d hugged someone.”Thank you”

“Anytime,” Richelle promised, stepping back to open the door and scooping down to grab Ashton (Who was still laughing)’s ear, dragging his protesting butt down the hallway.

 

 

XXX

 

            “I’m gonna kill that witch!”

“Please don’t talk about her.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘Speak of the devil’?”

“Good, then when she shows up, I’ll kill her.”

“So she kills me? She didn’t walk away for free. Richelle-“

“Yeah, Richelle did. She saved your life. What she said about me and Iz was true and not only that but we were drunk. Let it go girl, cause you’re missing out.”

 

 

XXX

“Somedays,” Ashton randomly confessed, “I wish I was a girl.”

“What? Dude, don’t be gay.”

He grabbed the remote, pausing the movie, “No really, you’ve got it easy.”

“Easy?” Izabell snorted.

M scoffed, “Blood pours from our vaginas!”

“Mmm,” He noted, shaking his head, “No wonder your hair’s-“

“I’d rather be a guy,” Richelle lied, trying to distract the room before Ashton said anything stupid.

“Why?” Grey drilled. “What’s so great about guys?”

“I think the vagina’s thing summed it up.”

“yeah,….” Iz agreed. M smirked.

“Anyways, I would be a super hot guy.” Richelle smirked, picturing herself as a dude. “Like, I’d work out all the time, and have a six pack and a sexy car. I’d keep my eyes and have a five o’clock shadow. And tan, like not too tan, but not pale like Edward. My arms would be like sculpted perfectly and I’d have amazing cheek bones…” She let the sentence die, fantasizing. Okay, so that wasn’t her, but that was her dream dude.

“I’d love you,” Iz blurted. Richelle really couldn’t fault her.

“I’d tap that,” M put in with a wink.

“Dude. I know. I’d be one sexy mofo.”

“I’d still have a bigger dick.” Grey defended, pouting.

“Even if you two switched genders, you’d still be a cute couple.” Iz gushed. Ashton winked suggestively and Richelle rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,  but Moxx,” M began, “If the witch ever made you into a sex God, call me.”

“Sorry Love, I’d be gay.”

“WHAT?!?!” They both roared.

She chuckled, “I’m into muscles.”

“I’d get muscle!”
”I’d be so ripped.” Iz agreed.

“Gross.” Ashton protested, “Stay feminine.”

“Guys, I’m into dicks.”

“You heartless b*****d.” The timer buzzed and Richelle jerked out the batteries, leading M and her towel-head to the bathroom where they pulled it off. Her hair fell in long locks to her shoulders, a mix of purple and pink. It contrasted well with her violet eyes, she gave Richelle a warm smile and Richelle grabbed a pair of scissors, “No, no, no!”

She laughed, “Trust me.”

            In about twenty minutes, she had short, jaw-length hair that Richelle styled. Pulling her bangs up and pinning them to the top of her purple head. She flashed yet another grateful smile that Richelle quickly returned.

 

 

 

                        ‘”Trust me, get the boy.”

“Marzell!”

“Iz,” Richelle groaned. “The kid’s strangling people with his mind- I think he’s okay to kill.”

“We are Seeth, Not Chevelle.” M lectured, “WE don’t observe and we don’t’ question, we strike fast and drink to kill guilt. He’s at soccer practice, north of town. Daddy’s having car trouble, so get your pretty a*s down there and put him to sleep. Richelle and I will get him in the morning and you wont have to watch.”

“But I’ll have to drug him?” Iz clarified.

“Just do it, damn it!” Marzell hissed before hanging up. Richelle sighed, glaring at the ingreedience.

“You shopping?” Iz asked, distraction more than evident in her voice.

“Yes ma’am.” 42g of fat. Gross.

“Good, buy alcohol.” She instructed before hanging up. Richelle pocketed her phone while murmuring about obesity and canned foods.

            She was too into her own world to notice the bodies moving towards her. SMACK. They collided and she grabbed the fistthat was thrown at her, catching without hesitation. Her other hand moving to tslide up the sleeve, her eyes scanning the black silhouette of te bird in flight, black fading into red; red fading to orange, fadig to yellow and finally to blue. A pheonix. The bird’s fire wings wrapped completely around the wrist, where they met, the wings of fire didn’t toch. She dropped the arm like acid. Chevelle.

            Now chevellian’s and Seeth’s weren’t enemies, but theyu didn’t exactly trust eachother. They were in the same line of work, but handled it differently. Chevellians distrsted Seeth’s due to their history of ruthless killings without tha second glance or even a blink. Seeth’s would never work with Chevelle’s because of their billions of strict, cruel rules and the rates of their traiters and members that commit treason. When n danger, Chevellian’s are known to bail on each other and their leaders bind them by blood, forcing their lower authorities to do things they despise or to torture themselves simply for sick, unholy pleasures. Whereas Seeth’s would die for their brothers and sisters in a heart beat. Had little to no laws, and function on pure loyalty. Although they belong to the same species, trust is a problem and a risk none of them dared to take.

            “Richelle?” She jumped at the name bringing her eyes up to meet the man who’d she’d track and kill. Her whole being froze at the sight of his bright and beaming yellow-green eyes. She knew him. Her guy dropped as realization struck. Ashton Grey. Year 1950- one night stand.

“Mr. Grey,” She acknowledged with a tight smile. She knew he was Chevellian then, kind of hard to miss the tattoo of wings sprouting from between the shoulder blades into wings of flame, a gigantic ‘C’ over his left breast, his last name :Grey tattooed on his collar bone, his hip bones and his ankles. “How’re you-“ He cleared his throat, trying again, “What’re you doing tonight>”:

“Tonight? I’m busy.,” She lied. Tonight was her only free night in the next three hundred years.

“Can you cancel?”

“Cancel?” She repeated, her eyebrows knitting together. What could hewant that was so damn important? Didn’t he know it killed her to look at him? To talk to him?

“Yeah,” He urged.

“Why?”

He licked his lips, his eyes dimming as he struggled with his next words, “Tonight’s the only night I’m free-“ Tell me about it, “So I wanna go out. Please,”

“With me?” She interrogated, cocking her head, “Why?”

He sighed, mentally groaning- no doubt. “Ms. Moxx, will you do me to honor of accompanying me to my car this fine evening--------------‘

 

 

            He closed the book, rubbing his eyes. Living this hell was one thing, going through it again was another. “How’s it going?” He jumped,  turning to see Richelle leaning in the door frame.

“Well I’m re-living when we met.”

She cringed, “The first time?”

He chuckled, “What’s so wrong with the way we met?” She glared at him shoving past and dropping her mug into the sink. He swallowed, “But no, not the first time. The second time, at the store.”

“Oh, that one.” She mumbled, wrinkling her nose in disgust, he frowned too, remembering what Sebastian made him do.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t.” She dismissed before giving a pain-filled smile. “We were all just doing our jobs, right?”

He gave her a hard look, biting his tongue. NO! He wanted to scream, IT’S NOT MY JOB TO STEAL, LIE, RUNAWAY, OR ENGAGE IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY. IT’S NOT MY JOB TO MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL! MY BOSS IS JUST SUPER FUCKED UP AND DOESN’T HAVE A LIFE OF HIS OWN- I’M SORRY THAT SCREWED YOU OVER, BUT I TRIED. I REALLY DID. “Yeah…” He muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well hell, forgive and forget, right? If I’d done it, you would’ve forgiven me.” He contemplated this as she walked forward.
”yeah,”

“Good,” She whispered, causing goose bumps to rise on his skin. He didn’t see the dagger till it was too late, sticking out from his kidney. She pulled up, twisting and jerking, playing with his organs until he slowly bled out.

 

            Ashton awoke with a start, his eyes on the white pages until it came into focus.

‘ “Tonight? I’m busy.” She lied, tonight was her only free night for the next three-hundred years. ‘

He shook his head, closing the book and rubbing his eyes, he glanced up at the DVD clock. 1 AM. He sighed, scooping up the book and walking to M’s spare bed-room- his bedroom. He lay on the mattress, the scene of Richelle stabbing him over and over continuously playing in his head.

            He ground his teeth, pulling a pillow over his head, Damn Witch…

 

 

Richelle held the cool glass to her burning head. She ground her teeth, it wouldn’t stop. The dreams of Izabell and Marzell- she hadn’t slept for days. Right now, the images wouldn’t stop, flashbacks of what she’d seen- what she feared would come. A distant blood curtailing scream came from down stairs and she jumped, her glass shattering cal over the tile floor. She drew a deep breath. It’s not real. She told herself. Something squeaked next door in the living room and her whole body stiffened until Ashton came into view, walking to the stares. She let out a relived breath. Before scooping down to pluck shining glass pieces from the floor. She hadn’t noticed him down here or she wouldn’t have brought her schizophrenic a*s down here.

Another scream sounded, jerking her up into a cupboard where she let out a small, frightened yelp. She backed up, and collided with something hard. Two manly hands grabbed her arms, causing her gut to plummet. She leaped out of his reach, pressing herself to the sink. She glared at the man, he wasn’t Chevelle nor Seeth. He wore no sign of Rogue or a single brand of any type of identification. That left killer. Cold- blooded killer. And he was here to make her nightmares come true.

He flashed her a cunning smile. “Don’t move and nothing will happen to you, okay?” She nodded sharply and his smile widened. “Good,” He cooed, with that, she tossed a shard of glass like a dart, striking him above the heart and charging upstairs, she kicked open Marzell’s door and froze.

            They were tied to chairs, gagged. Two men stood at her entrance. But a third stayed by Izabell. “Killing her won’t stop the witch.” She blurted, already knowing what they wanted. They shared looks of curiosity and exasperation. But, curiosity peeked, the third stood.

“How could it not? They witch bonded them together. What happens to her, happens to Izabell.”

Her head was racing as she casually kicked M’s door stopper into Ashton’s door, knowing how much of a light sleeper he was. Panicking, she once again began to blurt out information, “But that’s not how it works! The witch was afraid of me killing her, of me succeeding. So. She went after my family, knowing I’d spare her life to save another’s. What you do Izabell won’t effect the witch, at all.” She heaved a deep breath, her hearing picking up on Ashton’s rustling sheets. “The bond was placed so that no matter how badly I wanted to kill the witch, I wouldn’t. Those were her exact words. So please, let them go. They wont hurt you.”

“There are a lot of people, of things after your witch. And all think your friend is the ticket.”

“Well I’d assume so, she is a lying b***h.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not the only one. So, we’re just gonna test your theory, hmm? The witch dies, you die. The witch lives, we’ll call it my mistake.” Ashton’s door opened and the two men stepped forward, Richelle chucked two more shards and turned on Ashton, reaching into his shirt pocket and snatching up a lighter, she knew M, this room was just waiting for adventure. Her golden eyes shifted to M and Iz who were busily cutting at their ropes with their grown finger nails. “What are you going to do, love? Kill everyone here?”

Richelle cocked her head, with Ashton behind her, it gave her impossible strength. Hope. Power. She could feel the challenge in her eyes as she starred him down, “Burn them,” She quoted herself, “Burn them all.” She added before chucking the lighter to the closet, which, as suspected, blew up. Richelle coughed through the smoke, seeing M and Iz’s tiny frames stand in the midst of the flame and smoke, she allowed Ashton to lift her and carry her out of the burning house.

Author's Note

This one had a bit of humor, not much, but a little. :)