Virulent (Folie a Deux 1)

But it doesn’t mean I won’t kill him if Molly asks me to.

“Hi!” she calls out, letting go of my hand and approaching them. “I’m Molly, and that’s my Daddy, Pike. What are your names?” I keep a watchful eye on the entire situation—Molly raising her hands to warm them by the fire, the man stepping in front of his woman, and her as she wraps her arms around him from behind.

With the shake of my head, I walk over to them and drape an arm around Molls’ shoulders and greet them with a nod. She grins up at me quickly before turning her attention back to them, “So? Do you guys have names?”

“I’m Danielle and this here is Clay,” the woman finally says in a timid tone of voice. She seems to be a little more comfortable since Molly’s offered our names and steps out from behind her guy, a small smile on her face.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Molls says enthusiastically. “Can I ask you guys a question?” Danielle nods as Clay crosses his arms tightly over his chest. He doesn’t trust us, no matter how much his girl does, and again, I can appreciate that about him.

“Sure,” Danielle replies shyly.

“Have you ever thought about how you wanted to die?”

Oh shit. Okay—here we go.

“What?” she asks, blinking rapidly. Clay immediately steps toward Molly but I’m faster than he is and put a hand to his chest, raising my other hand and wagging a finger at him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warn him in an even tone. His eyes turn dark as he pushes my hand away and I grin. He doesn’t seem to understand that before him stand animals—devils that have no regard for human life and his bravery will only be met with brutal, unrelenting force.

“I think you should show them Gigi, baby girl,” I say to Molly as I run my hands back through my hair and crack my neck.

“Really, Daddy?” she asks in excitement.

“Really,” I confirm with a nod.

Molly leans down and reaches into the leg of her thigh high boots and pulls out her favorite blade. She treats it like a child, always careful to clean it afterwards and cradles it lovingly when it’s done a good job.

Danielle takes a step back as Clay moves forward, but I sidestep in between him and Molly, punching him in the throat and dropping him to his knees.

“Don’t let her get away. Run, run, run, baby girl. Go get your toy,” I instruct Molly softly as I lean down and pull Clay up from his knees.

Molly’s eyes flash as Danielle turns to run from us as quickly as she can. She’ll catch her—of that I have no doubt. The shadow of what once was a man is leaning against me gasping for air, and when I hear his woman’s scream and Molly’s joyful, delirious laughter, I reach into my pocket for my pack of smokes. I very calmly shake one loose and pull it out with my teeth, then fish around my pocket for my lighter, igniting the edge. As I inhale deeply, I close my eyes and listen to the screams that rip through the train yard, knowing that Molly is happy and making short work of the dumb bitch that trusted us to be kind strangers. When she comes back, we’ll work on this piece of shit wavering on his knees before me.

We’ll show him what gods are capable of and he’ll know that he bowed before false idols with no hope of surviving the night.

The Corpse

Pike

I have one hand around Clay’s neck, holding him up as he continues to gasp for air. Every now and again, I give it a little squeeze to restrict any airflow that he may have managed to remind him that his miserable, worthless life is still in my hands.

He gurgles, still on his knees, and I glance down at him with a smirk. I’m sure he’s still wondering how it was that I was able to drop him as quickly as I did because I know that I don’t look very imposing or strong.

Tattoos on my neck and face, and people still treat me like some fucking miscreant child that can’t throw a punch. Everyone except for my Sweet Molly—she knows exactly what her Daddy is capable of.

And I refuse to let her down.

I know she’s off doing her part right now and I want her to have something to play with when she’s done with her new toy. That’s if she’s up to it—I don’t ever force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.

“Did you really think I couldn’t take care of my girl? That I would let you put your filthy fucking hands on her?” I ask Clay leaning down, my face inches away from his. I can smell the blood and shit on his breath and it makes me laugh. What I’m holding is the lowest example of a human life and I intend to treat him as such.