by Lana Kole
Stepping back, he nodded for Misery to continue, and didn’t miss the sick grin on Misery’s face.
“Don’t you know, Andrew? Misery loves company.” Truth laughed at his own joke, but Andrew was too busy suffering to care.
Truth moved across the room to turn the overhead fan on as he gave Misery a little privacy and crunched his piece of candy into pieces.
For Misery, sharing always made him feel better, but not so much for his chosen victim. Misery was sullen most of the time, but he’d eventually learned how to laugh at his circumstances. In his own words, it was laugh or cry. Which made sense, when his mind was in constant distress. When it became too much, it would seep out into the world around them, affecting those nearby.
And then there were instances like this, when Misery was able to shove everything he felt into another person, choking them with the anxiety and crippling distress of his own mind.
When Andrew began choking on his own breath, Truth called Misery off again.
For once, Misery was almost smiling, and it had to be due to the emptiness of his own emotions. Unloading all of that was a release of endorphins for him, addicting if he wasn’t careful.
It was one of the things that made him the most dangerous of Pandora’s demons.
Truth got down on his haunches and gripped Andrew by the hair, jerking his head back. His eyes seeped tears like a fucking river, and his breath blubbered out as if he was in physical pain.
“Had enough yet? Ready to tell us all your truths?” Truth knew his grin looked evil just then, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.
Andrew nodded, but made no move to speak.
“Already? Fuckin’ pussy. I only touched him twice,” Misery complained.
Truth shot him a glance with a raised eyebrow. “I think that’s enough for you. Go sit by Daria. Eat some candy.”
“Shut up about the fuckin’ candy already,” he grumbled, but something akin to satisfaction glowed in his eyes as he sat on the couch and placed Daria’s head in his lap. He brushed her hair back from her face and stared down at her with reverence in his expression.
Jerking his attention back to the asshole at hand, Truth let go of his head and stood. “So, Andrew. Seems you’ve gotten real close with my friend Misery here, so allow me to introduce myself. I’m Truth.”
Confusion glazed his features as he stared up at him, but Truth didn’t give him a chance to talk. “That’s right, so I’ll know if you start spouting a bunch of bullshit. Don’t even try it.”
Andrew sucked in a shaky breath before he slumped in his bonds, absolutely defeated. The sight brought a smile to Truth’s lips.
“I work for the chaopadós.”
“Congrats, you told a truth. Keep going.”
Andrew’s jaw clenched in annoyance, but Truth just laid his hands on his shoulders. “Don’t make me force you. I can do that, you know.” He stood and started pacing in front of him. “Though it’s not really gonna matter anyway, ‘cause you’ll be dead by the end of this.”
“If you’re gonna kill me, what’s the point in talking anyway? I’ll die no matter what.” A fake bravado stiffened his shoulders.
“That is an excellent point, Andrew. The only difference is how much you suffer beforehand.”
Andrew shivered, remembering the misery inflicted on him just moments before. “Fuckers. Fine. I was sent after her,” he said, nodding to the couch, “to kill her.”
Truth swallowed his rage and grabbed another piece of candy to obliterate with his teeth. “We know that much, thanks. Why?”
“She’s the holder of the demons. They told me to keep her from releasing the demons.”
Truth tilted his head at him, a smile twitching his lips. “They told you that?”
“Yeah… she was gonna release the demons, so I was tasked with keeping that from happening. If she’s dead, she can’t release them.”
“You believe this shit?” he sneered, turning to Misery. His smile was gone, but the contentment was still on his face as he stroked Daria’s hair.
“What are you talking about?” Andrew asked.
“You are as dumb as you look.” Truth shook his head as he spoke. “Me, Truth. Him, Misery. Us,” he said, flicking his finger back and forth, “demons.”
Andrew’s brows shot up. “I ask again, what the fuck are you talking about?”
A gasp sounded behind them, and Truth jerked around to watch Daria’s chest finally move with her first breath. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled drowsily at Misery as he kept petting her hair.
“Hey, you,” he whispered gently.
Truth tried not to be jealous that he wasn’t the first thing she saw when she woke up.
And failed.
“How are you feeling?” Truth inquired, stepping forward and crouching down beside the couch.
“I’m okay… I think. W-what the fuck?” Her gaze landed on Andrew, tied up and bloody behind him. She sat up, nearly nailing him in the forehead with her own. “What happened?”
Glancing down, she answered her own question as she fingered the bullet hole in her shirt. “Ah, shit. Again?”
Truth winced. “Yeah, and we’re gonna have to talk about that incident later. No sacrificing yourself.”
Biting her lip, she looked like she wanted to argue, but glanced to Andrew again and nodded. “Later.”
Speaking of, Andrew’s voice rose two octaves as he questioned, “What’s happening?”
Truth rolled his eyes and ruffled his hand over Daria’s hair. “Okay, asshole. Quick run down for you. Daria is Pandora’s Jar, and by killing her, you released us. Your cult buddies lied to you.”
Dark brows furrowed down to form a knot in the center of his head. “Why, though? They want to stop the demons.”
“No, dickhead. They want to control us and use us for their own purposes. The fuck have you been all this time? Are you that dumb?”
A vein pulsed in Andrew’s forehead as his face turned red with anger. “No. I just haven’t ever been to HQ. I had strict orders from a burner phone that I used to talk to the leader. All my orders came directly from him.”
“Where’s the cell?”
“I don’t have it anymore. I was supposed to trash it after my last mission.” His gaze darted to Daria again.
“And? What was your next move supposed to be?”
“I didn’t have one. I was supposed to wait for further orders.”
Truth got down on his haunches again, propping his chin on his fist. “So let me get this straight. You were tasked with murdering someone, and then told to sit tight and wait? No orders to get out of town, or run, or get a new identity or… hell, anything?”
Slowly, Andrew shook his head, the truth dawning on him like the rising sun. Finally.
Truth stood and patted him on the cheek none too gently. “Sounds to me like you were set up, bro. Sucks for you.”
Now he struggled against his binds, his denial strong. “No, that can’t be right. They’re supposed to come to me.”
Truth stiffened and glanced down. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, they’re supposed to come get me and take me to HQ.”
“I see. Do you know where this HQ is?”
“No… I’ve never been and they keep that information private.”
“This is useless.” Truth turned to Misery and Daria. “We need to go. Now.”
“Wait! Why? Let me out of here!”
“They’re gonna off you, man. Like I said, sucks to be you. They set you up as a scapegoat and are gonna come to tie up loose ends.”
Misery and Daria stood, Daria still a little unsteady after acclimating to life again. She held tight to Misery’s arm and he only looked a little smug about the whole thing.
“Let’s get out of here,” Truth said.
Right as they moved to leave, the windows in the kitchen burst in, the tinkling of glass littering the floor echoing into the living room. Three bodies covered head to toe in black dispersed
throughout the house.
“Shit, man, at least they sent three of them after you. That’s gotta be a compliment, right?”
Truth turned to arch an eyebrow at Andrew, but found the chair tipped over, the ropes discarded on the ground. Huh, he thought. Maybe he hadn’t tied the knots tight enough.
Truth and Misery ducked down and backed up together, placing Daria between them so she was protected on both sides. She grumbled, but otherwise remained quiet.
The intruders had faded into the shadows, the darkness of the house the perfect cover for them to slink around.
Possibilities of action passed through Truth’s mind like flashes of light. The intruders probably had guns, much like Andrew’s, with a silencer. Get in, do the job, get out was usually these guys’ mottos, and Truth doubted that had changed in the years they’d been locked away. Truth wasn’t willing to let Daria take another bullet for him, and as demons, they could heal most everything. Except decapitation. No bastard came back from that.
That was the good news at least. Truth doubted these guys were carrying machetes to a simple little assassination. For a human.
That still left them with few options. Sure, Andrew’s gun would come in handy, but Truth hadn’t ever shot one and he doubted it was as easy as driving a car. Even though he’d experienced the kick back in various guns from previous matriarchal figures in Pandora’s bloodline, this was different.
And he wasn’t willing to risk Daria so he could play target practice with the enemy.
Their best bet was to sneak out… somehow. But the kitchen was closer to their car, and Truth really didn’t want to cross the front yard with all those windows for the assassins to aim out of.
What if they started shooting like crazy psychos and hit Daria?
“Misery,” Truth whispered. “You got any ideas?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “Daria, hold on to Truth.”
Even in the dark, Truth could see the panic in her eyes. “What? Why? Where are you goin—”
Misery didn’t give her time to finish before a whiplash of misery buzzed through the room. Truth heard groans of agony from various points in the house, and a shadow dropped to the floor from the other side of the couch.
Daria’s nails dug into his forearm where he’d reached back to brace her, and his heart clenched at the fear that showed on her face. She hadn’t ever seen Misery’s powers in action.
While they were distracted, Truth tugged Daria up from the floor and pulled her along as he darted for the kitchen. The longer Misery shared his burden, the more addicting it became, so the quicker they could get out of the house, the faster he could turn it off. Daria whimpered where he gripped her wrist, and Truth loosened his hold before a glance back told him she wasn’t worried about his grip. She was worried about Misery. Her head was twisted back and even Truth gulped when he saw the dark shape gliding behind them.
Focused on nothing but his power, his temporary relief, Misery walked with a lightness in his steps that was just plain eerie with the cries of agony that echoed through the house.
“Well, look who we have here,” Truth grumbled as they came to the shattered glass doors in the kitchen. Andrew was laid out just outside the doors, holding his head as he screamed in pain. As his eyes fluttered open, his gaze was torn to the dark figure looming behind them, and his voice cracked with the force of his next wave of unfiltered torment.
“That’s for the double murder, asshole,” Misery mumbled, walking past them and onto the pool deck. When they didn’t immediately follow, he paused and turned to look back. “What’s wrong?”
“Y-you’re…” Daria trailed off as she leaned closer to Truth, whispering, “Is that normal?”
Under these circumstances, yes. But Truth didn’t voice that out loud.
“Misery, you’re creeping her out cause you’re smiling. Let’s go.”
He frowned for just a moment before that half smile curled his lips again. It wouldn’t last long before the misery returned, but that’s what worried Truth the most.
His hand tightened where he gripped Daria’s.
Now that Misery has had a taste of release, what lengths would he go to in order to have it again?
DARIA
Leaving the assassins in the dust, Truth drove them home, and Daria sat in the back with Misery. Daria would be lying if she said the grin on Misery’s face hadn’t been alarming. It wasn’t so much that the smile didn’t seem to belong on his face. It was more the screams of agony that had surrounded them as they’d fled the house. When they’d gotten to the car, Misery had all but begged her to sit in the back with him, and she’d acquiesced only when Truth nodded his approval.
It’s not that she didn’t trust Misery. But she’d only felt a smidge of the pain unleashed on the assassins, and it’d been enough to make her nervous. Instinctively, she knew Misery would never hurt her. But the haze that clouded his vision and the grin curling his lips told her he wasn’t quite himself.
Unleashing his misery was like a drug for him. A damn good one too, if the crash was anything to go by.
Turns out, she had nothing to worry about. Misery high on his power was just a cuddly drunk.
And it was fucking adorable.
Don’t get her wrong, Daria knew misery was terrible, and inflicting it on innocents would be absolutely awful. But those assassins had been far from innocent, and if the result was a sleepy Misery curled up with his head in her lap, well, she’d had worse endings to a night.
“You okay, buddy?” Truth asked from the driver’s seat, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Daria tried to hide her smile by biting her lip, but it didn’t work as she glanced down to the demon in question.
Demon? More like drunk puppy.
Misery was taller than her, just shy of six feet, she assumed. The back seat was a lot smaller than that, so he’d opted for curling up on his side, laying his head in her lap and facing the seats in front of them.
Her fingers curled through his hair and he smacked his lips tiredly before he answered Truth. “Just great, man. Daria does this thing with her fingers…”
Truth’s rumble of a chuckle sounded from the front seat and she met his ocean blue gaze in the mirror. His lips moved, forming the word thanks as he dipped his head to the demon in her lap.
Nodding back you’re welcome, Daria glanced down again. Misery’s eyes were closed, but she knew he was still awake. His body wasn’t fully lax in the way of someone who was asleep.
The dark locks of his hair slid through her fingers again and again as she played. The safe city lights grew dimmer and farther apart the closer they got to her apartment, passing tattoo shops, less-than-classy bars, and pawn shops. Daria had always wanted to live near the water, but she feared something like that wasn’t in the cards for her.
“That feels good.” A low murmur caught her attention, and she smiled down at Misery.
“My foster mom used to do it when I was little. You okay?” she inquired.
“Yeah, I feel good now, but it won’t be long before it comes back.” A wince interrupted the casual easiness on his face.
“I’m sorry. That you feel like that.” Daria shivered, remembering the absolute anguish that’d threatened to take her over when he’d unleashed the full force of his misery.
His smile was anything but happy. “Just a glimpse of what goes on up here,” he said, lazily tapped the side of his head, “all the time.”
“You feel that?” Her voice was soft, the disbelief heavy in her veins as she remembered the hopelessness, the pain, of just existing. Misery really felt all that? All the time? No reprieve.
As he nodded, Daria wanted nothing to do but take his pain away.
“Thank you for getting us out of there,” she whispered.
“Just doing what’s right.” His words were slurring more, and he flopped his left hand down to wrap around her shin. The heat embedded into her flesh even through her black pants. She swallowed.
“A
nd getting relief from your own personal hell had nothing to do with it?”
He cracked an eyelid up at her, a smirk curling his lips. “Absolutely nothing.”
Turning her head to the grimy parts of the downtown area, she sighed. “Maybe we can find you some bad guys to inflict misery on.”
An awareness came over her and she glanced to the front of the car to find Truth’s lips thinned as he stared in the reflection. He shook his head at her.
“Or not,” she whispered, frowning down at Misery.
His eyes were still trained on her and he shook his head to match Truth. “He’s right. It’s too dangerous if I do it very often. Besides, it’s my norm.”
Daria didn’t like that at all, but refrained from saying anything, continuing to drag her fingers across his scalp and through the dark strands of hair. It was the least she could do.
Once they arrived home, Truth helped her steady Misery enough to get him into her bedroom, where he promptly flopped on the bed. Daria turned to follow Truth from the room and let him sleep, when a hand grabbed her arm and tugged her onto the bed. Losing her balance, she sprawled out beside Misery, who threw an arm over her waist and snuggled in close to her neck.
Drunk puppy.
Trying to keep the grin off her face, she tossed a helpless look at Truth and mouthed, “What do I do?”
Truth did nothing to hide his smile, and a simple shrug was all she received in answer. Something passed over his expression that she couldn’t put a name to, but in the next instant it was gone and he was throwing a thumb over his shoulder and whispering, “I’m gonna run to the store, but first I’ve gotta shower.” He motioned to the splatters of blood decorating his shirt and she grinned.
“I don’t know,” she whisper-yelled. “Maybe it’s a new fad.”
He rolled his eyes before waving her humor off and leaving. A few minutes later she heard the shower start.
Staring at the ceiling above, Daria’s eyes fluttered closed. She was tired, but sleeping in jeans was too far from comfortable, especially with shoes. With Misery snoring softly beside her, his deep, even breaths heating her neck and threatening to lull her to sleep, she hitched one leg up to undo the tennis shoes she was wearing, quite a feat with only one hand to work with. The other was tangled up in Misery’s and held hostage by his body weight.
