Survival is Crucial

Roller Mobster

"I never thought I'd meet someone so elusive today." A younger man with a stubbled jaw commented, using a comb to slick back his dark brown hair, his hazel-colored eyes darting around the room as he felt the small hairs of his beard atop his caramel brown skin. "What did you need me for?"

Tyche sat across from him, lying upon a couch, one arm sat comfortably over his eyes.

"To be honest, I should just kill you, but I'll hear you out for now." He turned over to grab a cigar that sat right beside him, already cut, about to be lit.

"I want you to hide me."

The man across from Tyche took a deep breath before taking a few puffs of his cigar, "Why should I do that?"

Tyche pointed to a coffee table that sat in between them, a case sitting on top of it, "That's there for a reason, y'know? It should be enough for your services."

"But is it enough for a 20 billion bounty asshole who's asking me to essentially protect him?" He clicked his tongue, opening the case, "Yeah, figured, about a million, so?" He shrugged, "Why should I give the same service that I give others to someone with as high a bounty as you. You know, we're at risk here in this business of man by you just being here." He motioned to the room around him before taking a few more puffs of his cigar. He clicked his tongue again, "These things really don't hit as cigarettes do." He tapped the cigar, "You can't fully inhale these things unless you wanna fuckin' die while doin' it, coughing up a storm and shit."

Tyche sat himself up, looking the man in the eyes, "All I want is for you to hide me until I finally get to Brazil, that's all I need."

"You know, Mexico's already in deep s**t since murders have been happening left and right recently. Like, not that long ago even, a bunch of people fuckin' gunned down this random dude with a shotgun and then killed themselves along with it, fuckin' weird cultish s**t, y'know? But... people have suspicions that it has something to do with the Escravos." The man took a massive drag of the cigar, contradicting his previous statement before blowing smoke out from his nose. "I'm actually one of those people who can smoke then like a cigarette though, but if I do it too much... yeah, I'll start coughing."

"Escravos..." Tyche repeated to himself, "Do you know if someone named Eremita was ever involved with the Escravos."

The other man's eyebrows raised, "Yeah, why?"

"She was someone close to me, and she was killed by some guys I believe to be a part of the gang."

The man's expression became grim, "She's dead?"

"Yeah, shot in the neck and suffocated in her own blood." The man felt shivers go down his spine as Tyche said that, his eyes showing a cold tundra that he never wanted to imagine.

The man shook his head, "Right, okay." He pressed his lips together, "I think she was involved, I don't know. I'm not a part of the Escravos after all." He took to puffs of the cigar. "Okay... so. How should we go about this then?"

"Depends on what you say next."

"Right, so. You either leave here and I don't kill you there in that seat of yours, or... I do kill you, taking the bounty with it." He took another drag of the cigar before coughing, closing his eyes in pain, "f**k, habit!"

A cold thin piece of wire could be felt wrapping around his neck before he is pulled backward, the wire becoming tighter and tighter around his as he attempted to pull it away to no avail, his fingers barely able to get a grip on said wire. The man's legs thrashed about before raising both of them in the air, falling down behind the couch as Tyche repositioned himself, quickly bringing it around his neck once again, instead of wrapping the ends of the wire around his hands to make it tighter, causing it to dig into the man's skin as it dug deeper into his neck, blood rimming the wire as it tore at the man's flesh, attempting to get out with any means possible. Repositioning, thrashing about, before finally Tyche had enough, wrapping his legs around the man's body, to keep him from flipping around and loosening the wire.

Tap, tap, tap, tap... It's so easy to kill...

He had gone limp, foam sitting on the rim of his mouth as his eyes bulged out comically, the wire dug deep into his skin. Tyche held the wire around the man's neck for a few seconds longer before letting it go, letting his body drop to the floor. Tyche, now standing above the man, kneeled down, grabbing a small knife from his pocket and stabbing it into the man's neck, blood pouring out from it. With a gargle and a stop, he was not fully dead yet. Tyche stood back up, wiping the knife down with a white cloth before heading towards the door.

Two men kick down the door as Tyche quickly walked over to them before they could notice, or even before they could even ask questions, yes... before they noticed it, both of their necks were sliced open, both in vital areas. Blood spread across the collar of their shirt, down to their stomachs, while another who fell to the floor had a pool of blood sitting below him, almost like a faucet, faces red and bloated.

Each person he came across in the building was swiftly taken care of before they were able to react, blood seeping through the floors of the entire building. Some laid there, their heads twitching while their eyes flickered with the last remnants of life they had lived in their bodies until finally going completely still. Some went into rigor mortis almost immediately, some even attempted to fight back during their last moments, clawing at Tyche before falling to the ground dead, knife and hands stained with blood.