Chelsea Smile.

Curtis walked out onto the street cautiously, He zipped up his coat and looked around. No one was in sight. He couldn’t see Oli anywhere. He continued on and walked down to where he saw Oli last. Rusty’s body was gone. He cocked his head curiously and looked around. Nothing, someone must’ve moved it. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and continued to walk. He heard some footsteps coming from around the corner. He stepped closer cautiously as Oli appeared before him. He had a cigarette in his mouth, his hands smeared in red.

“What happened to you?” Curtis asked lifelessly. The cherry grew bright red on Oli’s cigarette as he took a drag. He pulled it out of his lips and exhaled smoke.

“Who cares, I got what I needed,” He replied.

“What about the three guys you were talking about?” Curtis asked.

“I don’t give a fuck about them, I just wanted Rusty alone,” Oli spoke, taking another drag. Curtis gave him a coy smile and shook his head.

“It’s not very professional to kill off all your clients,” He spoke. Oli stared at Curtis closely for a moment as he flicked his cigarette to the ground. He crushed the filter with his shoe.

“So,” Oli spoke, “We finally meet, Gojira.”

“So we have, Oli,” Curtis replied, “And now that we’ve met, you can help me with a little something.”

“Why on earth would I help you?” Oli asked.

“Because you supposedly love Calla,” Curtis spoke.

“I do love her, I love her with all my heart,” Oli stated.

“Mhm,” Curtis replied unamused, “Well, if you love her so much, you’ll help me achieve something great.”

“And what would that be?” Oli asked. A devilish grin appeared on Curtis's face.

“Revenge,”

-x-x-x-x-x-

“I’ll be back,” Jean Paul replied, walking out of the trashy place he called home. He shut the old door quietly and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Claude was out across the street, waiting patiently against the lamppost. Jean got out a cigarette and lit it as he walked over to his friend.

“Did you report them?” Claude asked. Jean Paul nodded and took a drag.

“Those British fags won’t get far,” He replied, “Let’s head over to the spot, I hear there’s rich people loaded to the teeth with money.”

“Jean, didn’t you learn from last time?!” Claude whispered sharply, “You almost got killed! Just look at your wrist!”

“Those brits are probably long gone by now,” Jean replied, “We need the money, Claude. I don’t know how long my wife and kids can hold up before they leave me! They think I’m off to an office when I’m really pulling out knives on people! I need this money, and I need it now!”

“Alright, arlight,” Claude spoke, “But consider this the end. This is the last one for me Jean, and then I’m out.”

“What?! How can you say such a thing?!”

“I’ve been offered a job over in Monmarte,” Claude explained, “I’m going to take it, and I’m going to make some honest money. I’ll do this one last time for you because you’re my friend, but then that’s it Jean. I leave tomorrow morning, and I won’t be coming back.”

Jean Paul pursed his lips together and flared his nostrils. He rubbed his fingers against the prickly hairs of his unshaven chin. He let out an agitated sigh and nodded.

“Very well then,” He spoke out, “One last time, so let’s make this count.”

Jean and Claude walked through the alleyway and peeked out towards the fountain. A few couples were walking around and taking pictures. Jean licked his lips and rubbed his hands together.

“Alright Claude,” Jean whispered, “We’re gonna pretend to be simple folk who’re looking to read people’s futures. We’ll walk up to that couple to the fountain over there and lead them back here, alright?”

There was a small pause, which made Jean furrow.

“Claude?” He whispered out. There was still no answer. Jean turned around curiously and saw Curtis standing before him. A devilish grin was plastered on his face as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Boo,”

Jean let out a blood curdling scream before being knocked out cold.

-X—x-x-x-x-x-x-x----x---x---x—x-x—x---x---x—x—

“Wake up,” A voice hissed. Jean slowly fluttered open his eyes. His head ached and pounded in pain. He let out a groan as his vision cleared up and revealed Curtis’s smiling face. Jean’s heartbeat sped up rapidly as he let out a scream and attempted to run. A sharp pain jolted throughout his body. The source was coming from his hands. He looked down in shock and found two shiny blades sticking straight out of them. He was stuck on some chair. Curtis leaned over with a warm smile and chuckled.

“You can’t get out,” He replied simply, “Unless you have a death wish, I suggest that you don’t struggle so much.”

“LET ME OUT!” Jean screamed loudly.

“Shhh, you’ll wake the dead if you keep screaming like that,” Curtis replied.

“Wh-what do you want from me?!” Jean asked out, “Please! Just please let me go!”

Curtis looked down at Jean’s hands. Blood was seeping over the chair’s arms and staining the wood. He smiled lightly and took hold to the two knives.

“I’ll let you go,” He replied, “But I can’t guarantee I’ll let you live. If you can get out of here in 2 minutes, I’ll let you live out your pathetic life. But if you don’t—“

Curtis ripped out the two knives, a blood curdling scream escaping Jean's lips. Curtis let out a laugh and knocked the chair over.

”You’ve got 2 minutes, I suggest you hurry up and run,” He yelled out, “Oh, and don’t worry about your friend. I’ll keep him company!”

Jean rolled out of the chair and got up, tears streaming down his sweaty face. His hands stung as blood continued to seep out of his wounds. He looked around frantically for Claude.

“Claude!” He cried out, “Claude! Where are you?!”

“You’ve got 2 minutes!” Curtis called out, “If you go around looking for your friend, you’ll never get out in time!”

”Claude!” Jean screamed out, stumbling around and knocking into crates. He ignored Curtis’s calls and looked frantically around the dark, cold warehouse. The lights hanging from above swayed against the howling wind that blew through the broken windows. It casted moving shadows on everything. He couldn’t see straight. His eyes were burning with tears, his hands felt like they were on fire, his heart was panging against his ribs. He couldn’t believe this was happening, it couldn’t have been happening. As he looked around for his friend, he noticed a hand sticking out from behind a crate. A silver watch resided on his wrist. Jean's heartbeat sped up.

”Claude!” He exclaimed, stumbling over to his friend. He tripped over his own feet and fell in front of his friend's arm. He crawled over and peered behind the crate.

”Claude! We have to go! We—“

His breath caught in his throat. His eyes grew wide in shock and fear. His arm was there, but there was no body attached to it. He let out a scream and shot up off the ground. He turned around to run, but Curtis was standing in front of him. His mouth was smeared with blood, a small portion of it dripping down onto his shirt. He flashed a warm grin and looked directly into Jean’s eyes.

”I told you it’d be a waste of time,” He replied. Jean stumbled back in fear, whimpering and crying.

“you-y-y-you killed him!” He stammered. Curtis let out a cold laugh.

"I did," He replied coyly, wiping some blood onto his fingertips. He looked at his fingers with a dark smile and put it in his mouth. He slowly pulled it out with a devilish grin and chuckled.

"...and he was delicious," He sneered. Jean turned around to run when he smacked into something hard. He looked in front of him and found Oli holding a knife in his hands. His eyes widened in shock as Oli swung his fist around and sucker punched him in the jaw. Jean fell to the floor in pain as Oli stratled his stomach and started beating the shit out of him.

"You fucking asshole!" He screamed, "You fucking hurt my girlfriend! You don't touch her! Don't you EVER TOUCH HER!"

"STOP! PLEASE!" Jean screamed out desperately.

"NO!" Oli screamed getting up in Jean's face, "I'm gonna make you regret even looking at her."

Oli shoved the knife against Jean's neck and cut into the skin. Jean squirmed in agony as the blade went deeper, eventually cutting into his veins and making him sputter for hair. Oli slid the blade quickly across his throat, a sheen mist of blood spritzing out. The warm liquid his against his skin and stained his face. Jean's body jerked in squirmed for several minutes. Eventually, the theif went dead and stood still. Oli got up off his body and looked over at Curtis. An evil grin stretched across his face. His breathing went rapid and his nostrils flared. Oli raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"The hell is your problem," Oli asked (more like stated). Curtis stared at him up and down.

"I can see why Calla fucks you so much,"

"What?!" Oli asked, not getting the point.

"You're so hot," He replied, rushing over and grabbing his face. He pressed his lips to Oli's furiously, catching the boy off guard. Oli placed his hands on Curtis's shoulders and shoved him away.

"you're fucked up, man," He hissed out, wiping his mouth and rushing past him. He watched as Oli grabbed his bag and walked out the back. Curtis followed suit as the two headed over to the river to clean up.

Once they were cleaned up and had changed their clothes, the two boys headed back to the hotel. Just as Oli touched his bedroom door knob, Curtis grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, pinning him to the wall.

"What the fuck man?!" Oli whispered out sharply. He didn't want to wake up Calla. Curtis looked at him up and down in want.

"I want a kiss goodnight," He replied. Oli jerked around to wriggle out of his grasp, but Curtis pinned him back down. Oli was impressed, to say the least. He didn't know where all this extra strength came from, especially from such a lanky boy.

"I'm not fucking kissing you," He whispered out.

"Well, then I'll get Calla to kiss me," Curtis soothed, "She gives innocent little Curtis all that he wants. Especially if it means keeping big bad Gojira at bay."

"You don't get the kiss, Curtis does," Oli retorted, "And Curtis knows if he asks for that, he'll get his ass beat by me." Curtis gave him a seductive smile and inched closer to his face.

"I never said Curtis would be asking," He sneered, "I'm a great actor Oli, and you know that I'm an equal, if not superior, match to you."

Damn. He had a point there. Gojira was a hard guy to follow, and he seemed like an even harder guy to beat. So much for controlling him, huh. He just did whatever feed his sick fantasies, and right now Oli being his bitch was coming into play. He pursed his lips a little and leaned into Curtis's, placing a soft kiss on his lips. He was about to pull away when Curtis's hand placed itself on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His warm tongue pressed against Oli's lips, prodding against them to gain entrance. Oli gagged inside his mind. He forced his mouth slightly open and deepened the kiss. A small moan escaped Curtis's lips as his free hand made it's way down to Oli's pants. He grabbed Oli's crotch, making the boy jump and push him away.

"Fucking sick," Oli hissed, quickly opening his door. He turned around sharply and glared daggers at Curtis.

"Stay away from Calla," He demanded, shutting the door. Curtis licked his lips and groaned, making his eyes roll back in ecstasy. He let out an airy chuckle and walked into his bedroom humming a happy tune.