Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE: LANDON
Landon walked through the copes of trees, rolling up the sleaves of his dress shirt and pulling at the elastic strap of his mask that was digging into his skull.
At least the Elites didn't have these incompetent masks.
The cool breeze brushed against his arms as he moved along the forest floor, grimacing at the mud getting on his designer shoes. He wouldn't have been in this mess if it wasn't for Cecily deciding she was to preoccupied with studying - gag - and making him go him self. Though, he supposed, he was the best option, obviously - if you want something done properly, you have to do it yourself. Infiltrating the Heathen's Initiation wasn't a particularly tricky task, he just needed to take one of the five invitations that where sent to a few members of the Elites. It was why Cecily was originally going to be the one to go, she was easier to hide. instead, Landon was here in a distasteful blonde wig and scratchy, green contact lenses. He looked like a fucking joke.
It was a simple task, get the blue prints, get out, but the Heathens where bastards, uncontrolled psychopaths that wanted blood. Not that Landon was any better.
A scream came from his left, the shrill of a man before the sound gruesome sound of something hard and heavy hitting flesh sounded after it in a twisted cacophony. Fucking pathetic, Landon thought to himself, they knew what they were getting into when they accepted the invitations, if they were so terrified to get a little hurt than they shouldn't have come.
He moved further along the forest floor for a few more minutes before a twig snapped behind him and he spun around, coming face to face with a tall man in a neon-orange stitch mask, resting a bloodied golf club lazily on his shoulder. The man's black shirt was slick and stuck to his body with blood, but everything else about him looked neatly put in place, like he got off on being organized.
Landon hoped it was that fucker Killian, he was looking forward to beat him up after he dared to put his grimy hands on his little sister, Glyndon.
Orange Mask stalked closer, dropping his golf club off his shoulder till it swung by his side, taunting Landon as the latter could practically feel Orange Mask smirking. He trailed the golf club against the floor before lifting it and swinging it down upon where Landon stood still.
Landon left only a second to waste before he moved out of the way just in time, a savage grin growing under the cheap plastic of the rabbit-mask he wore. He crossed his arms over his chest in a powerful stance as Orange Mask cocked his head at him, his muscles rippling under his shirt.
"Aren't you a little fucker?"
Landon just continued to grin at the threat of danger like the deranged psychopath he was.
Orange Mask swung for him and he ducked just in time, moving to the side which caused his back to slam against the rough bark of the tree beside him, he gritted his teeth as he was suddenly winded for a brief moment. Landon pushed off the trunk to move forward, but Orange Mask stepped in his way, grabbing him by the hair - well, the crappy wig - and attempting to hold him hostage, but the wig-glue just ripped off from Landon's scalp, taking the faux blond hair with it. Orange Mask threw it down on the floor, snarling as he grabbed Landon by the throat, cutting off his breathing as he was just about to escape. "What do we have here?" He implored as he slammed a fist into Landon's stomach before he could fight his way out of the position.
Landon slacked his features, willing his body to go to calm despite the fact he was a burning ball of rage on the inside, he was hiding his playing cards for latter, he wouldn't let this wanker find out what he was doing.
Orange mask was about only an inch taller than Landon, but as he swung at him with the club, nocking a breath from his beaten body, Landon realized something he didn't want to admit. He wouldn't exactly say he was at a disadvantage, he had just met his match. And he would rise higher, improving his already god-like presence till he was much much better than this fucking piece of shit.
"Let's see who I've to pick up after, then." Orange Mask grunted with one arm braced against Landon's throat, cutting off his air way and keeping him partly immobile. He ripped the crappy mask of Landon's face, the rubber band snagging on the roots of his gorgeous hair, causing him to grunt.
Orange Mask let out an inhumane, humourless laugh as he took in Landon's features before slamming a fist into the side of his face.
"Motherfucker." Landon seethed before he spat out blood onto the floor beside them.
"You'll need a better disguise than that, King, it was so fucking obvious it nearly hurt. Did you come all this way to spend time with me?"
"You wish," Landon spat.
Orange Mask gripped his jaw harshly, brining Landon's eyes to the neon stiches that covered his as he assessed him. "Should have known those Elite fuckers would have happily given those invitations to you." He muttered.
Landon couldn't help the lazy grin of a smirk that grew across his wicked features as he slowly lifted a hand out of Orange Mask's view. "Lets see what you have to hide, after all, it's not fair if only one of us is unmasked tonight."
"Fair doesn't belong in either of our dictionaries, King."
Landon grabbed the neon stich-mask, yanking it harshly off the man's face before he could react, throwing it to the floor with an intense force powered by his anger and hatred to the man he saw standing before him.
Jeremy motherfucking Volkov.
The heathen snarled, moving his arm to choke Landon with his tight grip, choking the life out of him.
But Landon stood still, assessing the threat Infront of him like the mastermind he was, his brain ticking away like a clock, dials turning, as a plan formulated in his mind. Landon slowly slid his palms up Jeremy's chest, causing the man to still. "What's wrong, pretty boy, am I not your type?" He smirked as he gripped him by the black strands of his hair and brought his mouth to his. Landon moved his lips against Jeremy's immobile ones as he slipped a hand into his own trousers.
Jeremy pushed him away just as Landon got out the pocket knife he had successfully managed to smuggle in before plunging the blade into the taught muscles of Jeremy's stomach. causing the man to groan in pain and stumble back, allowing Landon the freedom he needed to escape.