Family

Family.

The best and the worst parts of me is my family. A brother, a sister, and an aunt. That’s all that is left. Family.

I shoved the gun into the shithead’s mouth, and it grated against his teeth. He wouldn’t need those teeth anymore, so it didn’t matter. He sure as hell wasn’t looking like the ladies man he proclaimed himself to be. A lady killer. Snort. That was me.
Sweat beaded on his olive skin, and trickled down the sides of his face and into his blue black hair. His eyes, a dark brown, were showing white all around, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“I thought I told you not to come here,” I stated, and dug my knees into his biceps to keep him down. My crotch was in his face, but any attraction he held for me was gone when I shoved a gun into his face.
I pulled the gun back enough for him to speak. He swallowed, “But your brother-“ I jammed the gun back in and he grunted, blood dribbling down his cheeks.
“If my brother wants something, he gets it from me. You’ve tried to poison him before,” I stated, and he flinched. When my brother had his months of rebelliousness, he’d run to the other families
“Icarus!”
Speak of the Devil. Ein, my big brother.
“Icarus! Get off of him,” and hands grabbed my shoulders. But not quick enough. I wasn’t letting this dipshit Dealer off easy. I pulled the trigger, and blew a giant hole through the Dealer’s head. Oops. I grinned, and let my brother drag me back. After all, he couldn’t do anything now. Except hit me.
I touched a finger to my lip, and smirked. It stung a bit.
“You stupid bitch, what the hell? I needed him!”
“Bro, you’re using up your quota of exclamation marks. And you don’t need him. I told you I’d get what you need, and without getting you killed.” I shoved the gun into the waistband of my jeans. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and then in turn wiped my hand on my jeans. A brown-red smudge arc across one thigh.
My brother and I look like our mother. She was a slim woman, with shoulder length wavy brown hair, and slate grey eyes. I was an almost identical copy of her, and my brother a taller, muscled male version. But today his skin was a few shades too light and his skin looked a little too moist to be normal.
“No you can’t!” he hissed and kicked the body. I raised an eyebrow. I’d gotten him a zombie hooker before. I’m good at what I do.
“Really? Tell that to Drusilla,” who is the hooker. He keeps her in a fridge locker in the basement of his creepy ass Halloween house. Poor Ein is such a sick fuck, but I love him anyways. He’s family, after all.
“Now, tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you. Then I’m getting rid of the body. And for the next week you’re using the armored car. I don’t think the Dealer’s peeps will put up much of a fuss over him dying, but I’m not risking it.”
“Christ. You just don’t fucking listen, do you?” Ein gave the Dealer one last vicious kick before he turned on me. His eyes held a flatness that for a moment made me freeze. At that moment he looked an awful lot like Papa. I’d gutted Papa with a kitchen knife when I was twelve. Skuzzy bastard. I wouldn’t tolerate the way he looked at Mina, my little sister.
Unconsciously, I balanced my weight on the balls of my feet, and squared my shoulders. Ein bared his teeth at me, but his eyes went to the body again, and his nostrils flared.
“What do you need?” I demanded, using the listen to me fuck-face voice that always worked with Ein. He may be the big brother, but I was the one that wore the pants. I took care of things, and I liked it that way.
“Icarus. You. Can. Not. Help. Me!” and he latched onto my shoulders with his big hands. I jolted at how chilly they were. His face was pretty close too, and I noticed some things. His eyes were ten shades lighter than usual, not our normal dark grey, and there was little black flecks in the iris making his eyes look like Dalmatians.
“Christ Ein, what’s wrong with you’re…” I trailed off touching his face with a trembling hand. Cold. Fucking cold. I recognized the eyes, I knew the condition. After all, I got Ein everything he needed. I guess he got something from the zombie hooker other than just sex. Fuck.
“Ein, come on. We can deal with this,” I said, grabbing his frigid hands and pried them off my shoulders. He let me too, and his eyes had the same haunted look they had when he came into the kitchen and saw Papa on the ground, and me covered in blood with the knife. I always did what needed to be done. The fact that I had to take the reins and save us, because he never had the balls to. It… haunted him. And right now, I could tell he was thinking the same thing. But this was a mess of his own making. But it was mine too. I could have stopped him, but frankly, getting Ein what he wanted was the easiest way to keep him out of the way. So yes, I would fix this. Somehow.




Author's Note: I really don't know where I'm going with this. No bloody clue. But I like Icarus, so hopefully there will be an update soon.