Chapter Text
Lethe grinned as he spotted his next target. They were of decent stature, quite normal looking really. Nothing too odd about them. A pity they wouldn’t live to see the next day.
His numerous blades were already sharpened and ready to draw blood from flesh.
He’d taken his time tracking down this target into a relatively unpopulated area. Didn’t want anyone to come across him in the middle of committing his dastardly deeds, did he?
Now that he and his target were in a secluded back alley, one shady enough that no normal civilian would think about cutting through it, he could begin his new work of art.
He drew out a small, thin knife, one that looked meant to draw blood. This would be used to incapacitate the victim without adding too much damage to the canvas. It was also nice to use for small details that larger knives couldn’t do.
He aimed, drawing upon the honed instincts of an assassin, and threw the knife so that it would stab straight through the hand holding their phone. Not only would it cause blinding pain due to the amount of nerves contained in a single finger, let alone an entire hand, but it would also cause the phone to be put out of commission . Or at the very least make them drop it.
He dropped down from the roof he was previously crouching on, landing padded by cushioned soles. The grin never left his face.
”Well, well, Mr. Davis. Wonder what bad things you’ve done to cause the ire of someone so fucking desperate that they had to contact me.” Oh he knew, of course. He’d been given all that information prior by the client. It was just so fun seeing the victim admit to what they’d done before dying a gruesome death. Hopefully this one begged, unlike the last one who’d simply accepted their pitiful death.
They whimpered, holding their injured hand gingerly. “Who the fuck are you?! You- you sadistic creep?!”
He laughed, not perturbed by the loud shouting. No one would hear anyway, and even if they did, they wouldn’t interfere.
“I believe you’ll know very, very soon, Mr. Davis. Just know that this will be the last face you’ll ever see.” He grins threateningly once more, slightly unhinged this time.
“Please! Please don’t kill me! I have a wife! A family!” How lovely. How pathetic.
“Perhaps you should’ve thought twice before fucking over my client, hmm? Ever think of that? Oh well, your loss I suppose. Luck just really wasn’t on your side.”
He took out a syringe, needle sharp and intimidating. It was filled with a special drug that would paralyze the target, yet still allow them to feel everything. This would ensure that they wouldn’t escape midway through.
“Now don’t squirm too much, not unless you want it to be even more painful. I’m not exactly a professional with this sort of thing.” Of course, that was a lie. He knew exactly how to administer this sort of thing. Not that they had to know.
They stopped struggling from the harsh hold he currently had on them. Perfect. He quickly found a vein in their arm, plunging and inserting the fluid into it. A second later, they laid completely still.
A manic giggle escape his mouth at the feeling of having absolute control over someone. Oh, this would be fun.
”Now, what to do first…I wonder. I’ve always wanted to rip out someone’s heart.” He could see their eyes widen in fear. He laughed. “Don’t worry Mr. Davis. I’ll wait until the end to do that. For now, let’s get the blood rushing.”
Phil sighed. This was the tenth fucking body found in the course of two weeks. Absolutely insane! Now normally it wouldn’t be that out of the ordinary, but the fact that the kills were all done by the same person is what had everyone on edge.
A new villain, assassin, psychopath—whatever you wanted to call it—was running around killing people left and right. They turned up about a month ago, though they could’ve been around longer than that, staying under the heroes’ radars.
At the moment, their kills were identified not only by the amount of gore they left behind, but also their unique calling card that they engraved in each of their victims. A crown with a simple smiley face under it.
Their latest victim was one Liam Davis, an average man who used to work at McDonalds. They had a wife and two children, a son and daughter. Said family was currently waiting somewhere in the lobby demanding justice.
A ding rang from his phone in the form of a call from another of their resident heroes working on this specific case. They also just so happened to be his adopted son.
“Hey Wil. Any luck so far?”
”Nope. This bastard is fucking good at what he does. Haven’t found a single scrap of evidence other than that damned smiley face. There’s no witnesses other than the guy who reported the body. Pretty sure they’re in a mental hospital now, and I don’t blame them. This definitely wasn’t something an average person could stomach, fuck I’m getting queasy thinking about it.”
Phil nodded sympathetically even though Wilbur couldn’t see him. He’d seen a brief glimpse of the crime scene, and needless to say, he wouldn’t be sleeping well for the next few days.
“So what’d you call me for?”
“Oh, I was just gonna ask what you wanted for dinner, seeing as I’m already out and about while you’re cramped up over their in that tallass tower. I already called Tech, but he just answered with potatoes and I swear to fucking Primes we are not having potatoes again. I’ve had enough to last me for a lifetime.”
”Alright, how about just pizza? That should satisfy everyone. Even Techno and his potato-crazed brain.”
”Sounds good. I’ll get your usual and bring it to the tower. Techno said he’d be done with whatever he’s doing in about an hour.”
”Great! See you soon!”
”Bye Dad.”
The phone hung up, and Phil sighed again. Seems they were still at a dead end with this case. He really wished villains would just mess up so they wouldn’t have to spend time going over every sliver of evidence they were given.
There was no fingerprints found on any of the crime scenes, other than the victims’, meaning the villain either wore gloves of some sort, or were somehow controlling the victims to make them do it themselves.
The engraved marking didn’t tell them much either. While it did have the smiley face that Dream was quite known for, it also had a crown. Dream had also already attested to not being in kaboots with the villain. And Phil trusted Wilbur’s powers. So that was also a dead end.
The killer never left any weapons at the scenes, so they couldn’t trace the brand to any company.
If it weren’t for that damned marking, they wouldn’t even know it was the same person! Although each of the victims’ deaths were very bloody and gory, that didn’t always lead to an immediate connection. That did bring up another question though. Could this villain be a group of people? Just another theory to add to the pile.
Relatively half an hour later saw an exhausted Wilbur waltzing into their floor of the tower. He was carrying three pizza boxes plus another smaller box on top.
The boxes were sat on the table that would normally function as their meeting table. Wilbur then proceeded to gracefully flop down in one of the comfortable chairs they had.
“Hey mate,” Phil greets his son after he’d gained back a bit of energy. “You remembered to pay for that pizza, right?”
Wilbur groaned. “Aww, it was one time Phil! One time!”
“And I’ll never let you live it down. Neither will Tech.” He sniggers.
“What will I not let Wilbur live down?” Asks a gruff and tired voice.
“That time he forgot to pay for the pizza and then proceeded to get chased by the police while he fretted to us about ‘why the fuck are they chasing me?!’” He says the last part in a high pitched impersonation of Wilbur.
Wilbur grumbled about how he didn’t sound like that.
“So, we gonna eat? I’m pretty tired and would like to sleep as soon as possible. Pretty sure Wil feels the same way by the looks of it.” Phil nodded and went to get the pizza.
They ate quickly and then went to bed, dreams filled with gory murder scenes and torn out hearts.
Ranboo whistled as he scrolled through his newly acquired phone. He’d recently stolen it off of one of his victims. When he’d thrown the knife at their hand, the phone had dropped, but hadn’t gotten damaged. A quick scan of the dead man’s barely recognizable face was all it took for him to gain access.
So, now he had a new phone and a happy client. Win-win for him. Not so much for the corpse though.
He shivered when he thought of the creation he’d been forced to leave behind. It had been such a masterpiece. It’s a pity that his art was so fleeting. Detectives and what-not were sure to have already cleaned up the site, taking his art with them.
He’d already configured the device to unlock for him, as well as downloaded his own information into it. Of course, it was his civilian information. Couldn’t have anyone accidentally finding this phone and discovering it belonged to an assassin.
Unfortunately, that also meant he couldn’t take a picture of his art to save it. He’d be forced to remember it only in memory, and his memory kinda sucked.
The ringing of the device in his hand made him tense up. Thankfully, it appeared to just be Tubbo calling.
He answered the call, and tried to get rid of his assassin mindset.
”Hey boss man! Where are you? Me and Tommy got back at the apartment a while ago, and we were wondering why you weren’t back yet. Something happen?”
Oh Tubbo, poor naive Tubbo. Thinking something had happened to him.
”Nah I’m fine. Just had to take an extra shift at work. I’ll be back in about ten minutes. Less if I can catch the next bus,” he lied.
”Great! Anything special you want for dinner tonight? We haven’t gotten anything planned yet.”
A sly grin came onto his masked face.
“You up for spaghetti?”
He could hear gagging on the other line coming from two sources. Apparently Tommy was listening in and did not approve of his suggestion.
“Go choke on a knife boob boy! We ain’t having spaghetti again. Not if I have anything to say about it!”
”What Tommy is trying to say is that spaghetti wouldn’t be an ideal dinner. And if you say anything otherwise I will kick you off the bed tonight.”
Sigh. Point to short men. No spaghetti tonight.
Maybe Purpled or Punz would feel up to it tomorrow? He’d have to ask the blond men later.
“Actually, since you suck at choosing, I’m just gonna have Tommy go and get pizza. We’ll get your usual. Bye Boo!”
”Bye Bo,” he says back with fake affection.
The line went dead, and he went back to scrolling. And mourning the loss of such beautiful art because yes he was still hung up on that. That was his first time carving out someone’s heart! That wasn’t an occasion you could merely glimpse over. It needed to be savored.
But thanks to his line of work and all the risks that came with it, he couldn’t safely admire his art for too long.
Maybe if he learned how to hack he could access the heroes’ files. Then he could see the information and images they had of all his artwork. It wouldn’t hurt to see if they had any guesses on who Lethe was too. Not that they actually knew the name Lethe yet. But they would. He’d be making his first actual appearance sometime soon.
Everything was falling into place.
Oh! His bus was here! Great.