Isaiah parks the van at the corner of the street. The vehicle is hidden by an overhanging tree as well as a fence. In the short time it took for us to get here, I finally decided on what I wanted to do with the remains of the gang. So far, every time I’ve been assertive with a decision, Nobody has agreed with it. Rorschach said that the gang sells drugs, so after we take care of Santiago, I’m going to offer them an opportunity. We have kilos of cocaine that we need to get rid of, and they’re going to push it for us. If they decide to decline, then I will disband them forcefully.

“Hotpants, don’t kill any of them. Something tells me you have the skills to do it,” I said.

“Sure, any particular reason?” He asked.

“Well, on the one hand, we have thirty kilos of coke that Nobody wants gone. He’s not against us selling drugs, but he doesn’t want to waste time setting up a system that would hold up to his standards. And then, on the other hand, we have an existing system that only needs a couple of changes and is about to be missing their boss. Two birds, one stone,” I said.

“What you’re asking is well within my wheelhouse. I like the idea. And you know Nobody better than I do. If you think this is something he wouldn’t mind, then I’m in,” Isaiah responded.

“He won’t. But he also won’t want to be involved in running it, so it’ll be up to us. I’ll understand if you tell me to fuck off,” I said.

“I’m down, V. No kill shots, nonlethal takedowns. It gives me a chance to test out my new power in real-time. What about you? Have you ever been in a bar room brawl before?” He asked.

“You forget who the hell you’re talking to? I’ve been in more fights than you can imagine,” I said with a smile.

“Then I’ll follow your lead in there,” Isaiah said.

“Both of you roll down your windows,” Rorschach said from the back.

As soon as Isaiah and I roll our windows down, black butterflies come from the back, pouring out the window. Rorschach is sitting cross-legged in the back of the van with her eyes closed in concentration. There’s a wet black orb hovering above her legs, and that’s where the butterflies are coming from. They’re pitch black and seem to be dripping ink, but the drips never seem to drop off. Slowly, more and more of them emerge until I’ve counted at least a hundred.

“Alright, I’m set up. I have the entire street under surveillance. The numbers I gave are still accurate, but there are sixteen other people here. Four of them seem to be new recruits, and the other twelve are just here for the party. All of them are armed, but no one has a gun out. The semiautomatic rifles aren’t far out of reach, but you’ll have maybe five minutes before they can grab them once shit pops off. The majority of the members, including Santiago, are inside the red two-story. Four are sleeping in the teal house to the right of the red one. Santiago is located in the basement and is in the middle of receiving a double blowy. Oh, and he’s already done,” she chuckled.

“Both of you put these earpieces in. I already have mine in, and it’ll let Rorschach alert us if anybody else shows up,” Isaiah said as he tossed one to each of us. He pulls a black bandana out of his back pocket. “Do you want this to hide your face?”

“No. I want them to see exactly who did this to them,” I answered.

Go time. Isaiah follows close behind me as we leave the van, pulling his beanie down to reveal it’s actually a ski mask. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest, a thin undershirt, dark cargo pants, and combat boots. He has his two silenced pistols, and some flashbangs hang from his belt. Isaiah looks ready for war, and I do look like I’m going to the gym. I’m going to take him up on his offer after this.

“No scouts on the perimeter. Enter from the back, through the kitchen. Three unarmed hostiles,” Rorschach said.

The whole house is lit up, and dancehall music is blaring from inside. We sneak around the back, and Rorschach is right; there’s no one there. This reminds me of when me and Nobody broke into that bitch’s house. I haven’t shifted yet, and I might not even have to. Everybody inside is drunk, high, or both, and none of them are a match for me. I take a deep breath and nod to Isaiah. The screen door is unlocked, so I confidently stroll in. There are two guys and one girl standing around the kitchen island in the middle of the room, but none of them have tattoos. The whole house reeks of weed, and all three have a beer in their hands. Too easy.

“Aye, who are you? Never seen your pretty face round here,” one of the men said.

Isaiah is still outside, and they haven’t noticed him. I rush the talker first and jab my fingers into his throat. He keels over, coughing violently. He falls on all fours, vomiting everywhere. Stepping forward, I send a kick into his ribs, feeling a crack through my boots. The other two shout out in alarm, but nobody can hear them over the music. The woman recovers before her buddy, pulling a knife out of her boot. She lunges at me with her knife, and I grab her outstretched wrist. I punch up into her elbow, breaking it. She falls over, dropping her weapon and screaming in pain. I kick the knife out of reach under the stove, moving toward the final person in the kitchen. He looks around for anything he can use as a weapon and settles on his beer bottle. The man chugs the rest of his drink before breaking the bottle on the counter. His swings are wide and shitty, partially due to a lack of training and being shitfaced. I kick his hand up, sending the weapon spinning into the air. He looks up, and I send a soft palm strike at his chest. He stumbles; I catch the broken bottle and stab him in the leg. I send a backward kick into the woman’s head. She collapses unconscious. Fucking amateurs.

“Holy shit,” Rorschach said.

“Clear comms, Rorschach,” Isaiah said.

“Got it. Fourteen people up ahead at the end of the hallway. It’s a big room, and the adjacent rooms have six and seven people, respectively. Ten are civilians, but all of the killers are ahead as well. You’re entering the killzone now,” Rorschach said.

Isaiah is inside with me now. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him zip-tying the three fallen gang members. Crafty bastard. Isaiah takes the lead as we proceed toward the living room. He removes two flashbangs from his waist. The living room is huge, and there are several couches people are drinking and smoking on. A fold-out table has two pairs playing beer pong while a couple of girls are doing blow off a glass table. As soon as we enter the room, everybody freezes for a fraction of a second. Then all hell breaks loose. The tattooed skullfucks all reach for weapons as Isaiah chucks a flashbang into the center of the room and the other into one of the adjacent rooms. His giant body saves my eyes from the bright light, but the sound rattles inside my skull.

“Warn me before you fucking do that, Isaiah. You destroyed my butterflies with that,” Rorshach said.

“Whoops,” he said.

Always disarm your opponent first. Then, dominate them with your superior skill. Isaiah and I dash into the room, splitting off after the people with guns. There are seven, meaning the other three are somewhere else. I can’t hold back. My plan won’t work if I don’t utterly crush them. I open with a cobra punch, sending a guy flying into the wall. I hear Isaiah working behind me, but I have my own shit to focus on. While the beer pong players are trying to blink the spots out of their eyes, I grab them both by the neck and slam their heads off the table. Blood dribbles out of their foreheads as they slump to the ground. One of them wasn’t part of the gang. Oops. The other pair is two women, one of which has the tats and fucked up face. Why the fuck would you do that to your face?

Skull girl pulls a gun on me, and I duck under the table to avoid getting shot. I lift the table and rush at both women, slamming them against the wall with it. Skull girl’s gun falls, and I let go of the table, dropping it over the gun. A quick jab to both girls’ heads makes them bang off the wall, putting them to sleep. I see a guy is about to shoot Isaiah in the back, and I spear-tackle him to the ground. A right hook cracks his jaw, sending him to la-la land. Isaiah is putting his new ability to good use. Every punch and kick he does breaks bones and puts people out of commission. Rorschach warns me, and I dodge a crowbar aiming for my head, dropping to the floor in a split. I punch my attacker in the dick. He keels forward enough that I can headbutt him into unconsciousness. In less than ten minutes, we’ve taken down seventeen people.

“The majority of them are waiting for you up ahead with weapons drawn. The moment you attempt to make a move into either room, you’re both getting bombarded with bullets. They’ve brought out the AK47s, and every single person has a gun. Santiago is still downstairs with both women. Besides those two, the only people left in the house are members of Pandilla de los Muertos. If you’ve been holding back, you don’t have to anymore,” Rorschach said into the earpieces.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“How do you want to handle this? If you still don’t want to kill any of them, you’re going to need to transform or let me go in first,” Isaiah said.

“Are you bulletproof?” I asked.

“The tests I’ve done say yes. So which do you want to do?”

“Interesting. I’ll do it myself. Time to give these bastards a scare,” I said.

“Of course. Give 'em hell, V,” he said.

I wanted to do this without needing to shift. But I learned from my mistakes, and my pride won’t get in the way of the mission. The heat builds within me as I take off my hoodie and boots. My other form is more intimidating this way. I have to crouch just to stand in the living room. They’re prepared for an enemy, a rival, but nothing could prepare them for me. I am a natural fucking disaster.

I don’t use the door. The wall explodes as I charge through it, sending plasterboard and insulation everywhere. I need to end this without cooking any of the people I plan to recruit, so I dispatch them swiftly. They shower me with bullets while shouting threats. I walk through the hailstorm of metal and pick up one of the couches a couple of them are using as cover. From there, I practice my swings, smashing gang members like whack a mole. I’m careful not to hit any in the head, but my hesitation means the couch catches fire in my hand. I toss the flaming furniture into the other room, making the occupants scramble around like scared mice.

“There are six in the room you just threw the couch into and more above you on the second floor,” Rorschach said.

I stand up fully, pushing my head through the floor. The group of them scream in terror. I plunge my hands into the ceiling and pull down, collapsing the room and sending them all tumbling down. All the debris and dust make it hard to see, but from all the groaning, I got them. Several of them are hurt, nursing broken limbs. I got bigger fish to fry. I just need to leave restraining them to Isaiah. The house has taken too much structural damage for me to break down another wall without destroying everything. A more nuanced attack is needed, so I somersault into the final room. I bet I look dumb as hell doing this. A flaming boulder rolls into a room of violent drug dealers, and you can imagine how they fare. I’m careful not to break any of them, and I aim palm strikes and slaps at their chests. When you’re as big as I am in this form, a simple tap is enough to disarm anyone. My skills aren’t needed for this, and I get no excitement from this fight. I wouldn’t even call it a fight.

“All clear, come on in,” I said.

“Santiago is the only one left. I’m heading over. Be there in a few minutes,” Rorschach said.

“Let’s go have a chat with Mr. Skull,” Isaiah said, holding my boots and hoodie.

I shift back to human form, taking my stuff from him. He seems to be in a hurry to get downstairs. I hope he has a plan because otherwise, he’ll have to kill Rorschach. Isaiah basically leaps down the stairs to the basement, tossing his remaining two flashbangs. Santiago and the two women scream as the grenades go off. Before I even take the last step off the stairs, I hear the sound of three bullets being fired, and the screams go quiet. What the hell is he doing?

Isaiah is standing over the bodies of two topless women, both with holes in their heads. Fuck. Santiago Skull looks the same as the first time I saw him: ugly tattoos and a skeletal face. His pants are around his ankles, and he’s now sporting a bullet wound in his foot. Isaiah is bent over, whispering something to him that I can’t hear, and Santiago is nodding his head frantically. Before I can ask what’s happening, Isaiah holds a finger up to his lips. All of us are quiet while we wait for the third member of our little posse. Eventually, I hear Roschach’s stilettos click against the wooden steps. All of her butterflies are hovering around her, with a humongous ink python slithering after her. I’ve found the answer to my earlier question. Holy shit, she’s hot. Isaiah and I both step out of her way.

“Santiago Skull. You came to my group and told us that a man in a faceless black helmet killed Murmur. You claimed that this man, known as Nobody, provoked her into a fight just to murder her brutally. Do you still stand by your words?” Rorschach asked.

Santiago’s eyes flash from Isaiah to the dead girls and back to Isaiah before he answers. “No, I lied.”

“Why the fuck did you lie? Do you know what happened because of your fucking lies? My group is gone because you decided to send us after that crazy asshole. He picked us apart from the moment he met us,” Rorschach said.

“Because I killed her. That bitch got mouthy with me, so I had to correct her attitude. I mean, that’s what happens when you mouth off to El Jefe. La puta shoulda known better,” Santiago replied, sitting up straight on the couch.

I have no idea what Isaiah said to him to make him do this. What could he have promised or threatened him with? Whatever he’s done, I don’t want to say or do anything to mess up his plan.

“DON’T CALL HER THAT!” Rorschach shouted.

Her python lunges at Santiago. It won’t do much being made of ink, but the creature doesn’t try to strangle him. The snake goes for his open mouth, worming its way into him. It shouldn’t be possible, but the python shaves pieces of itself off as it spirals into his mouth. Isaiah and I stand in shock as it burrows down his throat, choking him slowly. Ink is coming out of his nose and mixing with the tears from his eyes. Santiago tries to fight it but just succeeds in getting the black liquid all over himself. Oh shit. His stomach is bulging unnaturally from all the liquid filling him up. Rorschach snaps her fingers together, and the creature collapses, leaving the gang leader drenched. He still isn’t dead yet, but he’s drowning from the gallons of ink inside him. Santiago looks worse than Kitt did, and at least with Kitt, I didn’t have to watch. Nobody harmed Kitt for information but gave him a painless death. This is wrong. Rorschach falls to the ground, sobbing. All of her butterflies dissolve, leaving ink splotches on the carpet. The sounds of her crying mixed with Santiago’s gurgling make me want to throw up. It takes an excruciatingly long minute for him to die finally. Mission complete, but I don’t feel happy about it.

I push my nausea down. This is the reality of what you’ve signed up for, Vivienne. Nobody’s goal won't be easy or possible without a shitton of enemies. Santiago isn’t the first body, and it won’t be the last. At some point, even my hands are going to be stained. We took care of Skullfuck, but this isn’t over yet. I need to see if my plan for the rest of them will work. Which means I have a speech to make. Isaiah follows me upstairs, leaving Rorschach to deal with her shit alone.

The house is a mess, but thankfully, the fires faded. The sheer amount of people that Isaiah and I beat the piss out of is crazy. Everywhere I look, someone is nursing an injury or they’re tied up. I weave my way through, searching for the tattooed members. Within those ten is the next leader of the gang. Isaiah figures out what I’m doing and begins helping me grab the killers. It takes a few minutes, but we round them all up in the living room. Isaiah grabs some beer cans off the floor and throws a bit into each of their faces. I need to be a commanding presence. I need to channel Nobody.

“How do you guys decide who runs this shitshow?” I asked.

They all share the same face tattoos as Santiago and the same type of plates implanted in their faces. Unlike Santiago, all of them have hair. Two of them stand out to me: a white guy built like a goblin with curly brown hair whose arm is broken and a Hispanic chick with bleached white hair and a broken nose. She makes me look tall, and I’m five foot six. Too thin to be my type. These two are the only ones that don’t look like they’ll pee themselves if I speak to them.

“Either someone speaks, or I transform back, and then it’ll be a very different conversation. What about you, Goblin? You have an answer for me?” I said, nudging his arm with my foot.

“Ow. Am I Goblin?” He responded.

“Fuckin’ obviously,” chimed in the white-haired chick.

“And Casper speaks. Now, are you gonna be a friendly ghost and tell me what I wanna know?” I asked.

“It’s seniority, whoever been in the gang the longest is in charge. That’s Santiago,” Casper said.

“Was Santiago. He drowned to death downstairs with his dick out,” Isaiah added.

“Hush it, Hotpants,” I said.

“If Santiago’s dead, why aren’t we?” Goblin asked.

“Because she needs us for something. She needs the whole gang; it’s why they didn’t kill anyone,” Casper said.

“Ya’ll are Neuvohumans. Why the fuck do you need us?” Goblin asked.

“I want everyone here to understand that the problem with Santiago is not a problem with the Pandilla de los Muertos. We have coke, a lot of it, and we need people to move it. The way I see it, you guys have two choices. Work for us, or don’t,” I said.

“V, we got four guys outside with weapons. If you guys don’t want to lose them permanently, call them off,” Isaiah said.

Goblin looks around at all the people in the room to figure out who's outside. “Jose, Maxwell, Lamar, Kenny, cut the friggin’ crap. Put your guns away, and come in slowly. We got company,” Goblin shouted.

The four guys come in with their hands raised and join the rest of the gang. None of them have face tattoos, so they can’t be important. They’re an average collection of gang members, and I’ve dealt with my fair share when I worked with Gio.

“As I said, you all have a choice. If you decide to take me up on the offer, spray paint a V on the sidewalk in front of this house. You have twenty-four hours. We’re going to have the street under surveillance, so don’t worry about us missing the mark. Hotpants, check on Rorschach. It’s about time we dipped,” I said.

“On it,” Isaiah said, heading downstairs.

Once he leaves, I’m left alone with Pandilla de los Muertos. The eight other killers are either unconscious or too scared to look at me. If they decide to work for me, they’ll only be good at distribution. I need to pick Nobody’s brain and get his opinion on how to put the gang to use. He’s better at all the planning stuff.

Isaiah returns with Rorschach right behind him. Besides some redness around her eyes, she looks to be doing better. The three of us walk out of the front door and head for the van. Should I say something? Rorschach and I aren’t friends, but I feel like I should try to comfort her. I’ve never killed anyone, so I can’t imagine what it feels like. I need to say something.

“Rorschach, you got plans for what you’re doing going forward?” Isaiah asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rorschach asked.

“Our old crew is gone, and your previous animosity with Nobody is resolved. We all worked really well tonight, so why not make this arrangement permanent?”

“Hotpants is right. We made a pretty good team, so why not join us?” I asked.

“I don’t care what you both just saw; I’m not a killer. I refuse to be Nobody’s hired gun,” Rorschach said.

“Nobody doesn’t want or need you to be muscle. That isn’t why he’s interested. He wants you for recon, and even more so once Hotpants and I tell him about tonight,” I said.

“Trust me, Rorschach, this opportunity is unlike anything we did with Veritas and the others. We’re making waves,” Isaiah chimed in.

“I need some time and fucking space before I jump into anything,” Rorschach said.

“This has a limited timeframe. The offer expires in about a month and a half. If you do decide to join, just stop by the warehouse,” I said.

Rorschach nods her head as we get into the van. Isaiah takes his ski mask off, and we start the drive back to the base. Now that we’ve left the neighborhood behind, I feel the nausea coming back. The shit Rorschach did to Santiago shook me. She isn’t the only one who needs to decompress. I want a hot shower and then a long night’s sleep.