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As the bell jangled, you leaned forward, pressing your face into your arms. This close, you can smell the lingering trace of disinfectant, any sugary sweetness from spilled drinks wiped away.
Oddly, you could swear that despite that, a sweetness still lingered. The same one you caught when you tended Pierrot’s head.
You groaned into your hands.
Tenseness slunk up your spine. The talk with Pierrot had helped, it really did. But between customers, and the jerk, and just… everything. The lights going off earlier. The feeling even now of being watched.
Not to mention the sheer embarrassment of pulling a knife on Pierrot. What did the poor guy think of you now? He probably thought you were a psycho.
You had hit your limit.
“Right then.” You said, standing back up and shaking out your hands. “Let’s do something about it.”
You cracked your neck, reaching for the side of the cash register. The knife, set there when you saw Pierrot’s surprised look, was still there.
Checking the blade, you nodded in satisfaction before slipping it into your pocket. This one was the one you used most, both inside the cafe and out of it. Inside the cafe, it was the knife you reached for when you needed something on hand to defend yourself.
Outside of the cafe? Well.
However, at neither point was it ever used for cooking. You leaned on the counter for a moment to gather your thoughts now that your mind was set, poring over the details you needed to get into order.
Today had been… a day. Between dealing with the rude man and the lights suddenly going out, you were feeling jittery. In need of a release.
Some people bought decadent treats. Others went on vacation. Some people bought video games, or new clothes, or went to dinner.
You?
You killed someone.
And luckily, you knew exactly where to find that release. You drummed your fingers on the counter before nodding to yourself. It had been a few weeks since you had done it, but luckily, you even had the perfect target.
Normally, you went after people who were rude to you, Carol, or the boss. It worked out perfectly for you. See, you had read once that where most serial killers got caught was that they weren’t truly random killings.
You, well, yours weren’t random. But they were subtle, no one really thought about the service worker who got yelled at. It was like yelling at a table. At most? You maybe got a pitying glance.
But when the police came around, nobody jumped to the cafe worker who got yelled at.
And as a plus, it fit your reasoning well enough. You tried not to kill parents, sole providers, go for the people who were well and truly awful. After a little bit of checking to make sure it was not the product of an awful day, well, you found that you tend to find what you were looking for. It wasn’t always a guarantee but it took a certain kind of person to scream at someone just doing their job.
…poor rationalization perhaps, but you were pretty sure that wasn’t the worst part of your hobby.
And the guy you found screaming at that poor performer earlier would definitely do.
You reached into your hoodie pocket, well worn handle landing in your hand. Mugging gone wrong, that would work, you decided, grabbing the keys from their spot on the counter. It took more staging than you would like, but with everything going on, it would be nothing but background noise.
You flicked the lights off, ignoring the shiver up your spine as you pulled the door close and turned the lock with a satisfying clunk.
The streets were dim, but not yet fully dark. On another day, you would already be heading home for an early night in. Luckily, you had managed to persuade your boss to have multiple sets of keys, so you didn’t have to worry about getting in at the crack of dawn when your boss did.
Honestly, you think he enjoys those early mornings way too much. Who’s the actual crazy person here?
…probably still you.
It doesn’t take long to track the man down. On your break earlier, you had stepped aside to check your phone, googling what details you remembered. The bright side of living in a small town was how easy it was to find someone once you narrowed down the area.
You rubbed your chin, careful not to let your hand drop to your pocket in case anyone was watching. You probably should’ve known then that it was going to be that kind of night.
But luckily, you found perfection. Dude was even more raving crazy online, constantly hurling insults, threats, and some stuff that made you feel downright slimy just reading it.
Even better, he was an out of towner, here on business, but no one to particularly care about him going missing. The only one who might have been was his poor wife he had beaten into divorce.
Your lip curled. You hated people like that.
A little snooping told you he got off the office late, not late enough for you on a regular night, but if you dashed, your mugging plan wasn’t doomed.
And apparently, the stars were aligning for you, because you caught up to the man just as he stepped off the road to head into a darker alleyway.
You slowed, footsteps silently as you clung to the shadows, following him in, maybe something was smiling after you, that tonight was aligning so perfectly.
It was the work of seconds.
Step up.
Slash.
Dodge the blood.
You resisted the urge to flick the knife, instead starting to wrap it in a dishrag. You’d need to get gloves on in a second, grab a wallet and stage the scene-
A clatter.
Your heart jumps into your throat, mind working on over time just fast enough to tell you there was no way to run in time as the lady rounds the corner,
Oh, this was bad.
The lady’s lip pulls back as they stagger. “You bitch!”
They didn’t even try to run, stepping up to take a swing at you. A swing that was definitely going to hurt.
You swore to yourself, palming your knife as the other’s face twisted in fury. How did you miss this? You had kept such a close eye on them, gotten ready to strike so particularly. And here was a sudden bystander-
A silver blur flashed by your head.
A hollow squelch.
The person in front of you teetered. For just a moment. Before they slumped to the ground, a silent moat of blood spilling.
You followed the trajectory, eyes widening as it was met with the very familiar form of Pierrot. Here in the alley way, you could almost swear that was something hollow about their eyes, before they flicked down to-
And they weren’t looking at the body, instead staring at you. You met them with wide eyes, suddenly very aware of how much blood was covering you.
“This isn’t what it looks like.” You blurted out. At the confusion on their masked face, you glanced down at the bodies. “Okay, maybe it is what it looks like.”
Well. This night was going somewhere in a handbasket. Murphy’s law and you should’ve expected it. And now they were looking at the body, their eyes going a bit wide, and suddenly very still.
“Why are you even here?” You asked, looking back up. The last you saw Pierrot, they were in the cafe saying goodbye before they had disappeared outside.
Pierrot tore their eyes away from the body, staring at you with a gaze that almost felt hungry. “I wanted to walk you home. When you ran, I got worried for you.” They said, voice a bit raspy in a way that made them want to offer some ginger honey citron tea jam.
It was a mouthful to say, but man, was it good.
You opened your mouth, not quite sure what to say. That was oddly… kind of them, perhaps? “I guess I did look a bit of a mess after the lights turned off on me.” You mumbled. And suddenly running into the night didn’t help. You had planned for camera blind spots and off the main road paths, not for a concerned guy who just wanted to walk you home.
Man, standing over a dead body with the circus performer who had stumbled in on you killing them.
…granted, Pierrot had killed someone too.
“You looked beautiful in the dark.”
“I’m sorry?” You said, looking back up from the body. Pierrot smiled at you, golden eyes seeming to glow behind their mask. You shove the mumbled sentence out of your mind. “It’s- right. I’m getting sidetracked.”
You could just bolt now, but what was the point? He had seen you already. Technically, he was now as embroiled in this as you were.
Part of you, the more ruthless part, told you to push him under the bus. People already thought the circus performers made people disappear. It was just another rumor for the mill.
But then you looked back up into those strangely hopeful eyes, and noticed how despite his overall calm, Pierrot was shaking, hands clasped together.
You bite your lip, turning the idea over in your mind before making a decision. “Right. Come back to my house with me, and I’ll get you cleaned up first. And an alibi.”
Pierrot stiffened for a moment, and you couldn’t help but tense as well, worried that the answer would be a dismissal. But instead, the other padded past you and kneeled by the body they had killed, throwing knife disappearing as they palmed it and stood again.
He turned, holding an awaiting hand out to you. And feeling oddly out of place, you took it.
It would be good for an alibi, you told yourself. Right now, what made sense was him maybe escorting you home.
And maybe the sudden adrenaline crash that left you cold and a tiny bit loopy, and that made holding onto a hand much nicer. You could lie to yourself too sometimes. Pierrot tugs you forward, turning down the street- luckily in the direction of your house.
Neither of you spoke till you reach it. You were pretty sure Pierrot wanted to, with how they jittered, constantly. Glancing towards you, free hand fidgeting, occasionally looking like they were about to say something but always just cutting it off.
And on your part, you were busy thinking. How much you could trust them, how much trouble you could get into if they flipped.
But with the door closed, you find yourself speaking first. “Thanks. For dealing with them.” You might have been able to manage it, but… not easily. It would’ve been dangerously for you, and more dangerous if it got somebody’s attention.
“I wouldn’t allow them to hurt you.” Pierrot said, his voice still raspy. He was looking around your home as if it was the most fascinating place he had ever seen. “Did you… kill them because of me?”
You paused, rubbing the back of your head, feeling suddenly a bit embarrassed. “Don’t blame yourself for it.” You told them. “I don’t like rudeness like that. So yes, but it was still my choice. Nothing you could control.”
You expected revulsion. Even if he had just killed someone to protect you, most don’t take casual admittance of murder well. It was not like you could put it into words the rage you felt at the man’s rudeness and later when you saw the other atrocities he dealt.
But contrary to your expectations, Pierrot doesn’t shrink in guilt or fear. He blooms, settling his chin on his hands and bouncing on his feet back and forth, scruffing the floor. The grin on his face had turned oddly sweet.
How much had the poor guy been forced to put up with, you wondered, that the idea of even one of them being removed was such a joy?
It sent an odd stab of protectiveness through you, call it defensiveness for your fellow customer service worker. Maybe a little commiseration after going through the awfulness that was retail.
“If anyone else gives you problems, let me know.” You hear yourself offering. Running through the calculations. “I can’t kill all of them, it’ll be too risky for the both of us. But some… are doable.”
Too many, and people would start asking questions. The circus already had a negative reputation, more would be adding fuel to the fire.
But… you might be able to make a few work.
You looked back up at him, wincing at the darkness of his pupils. Ah, you probably pushed it too far with that. Pierrot stared at you, completely silent, his pupils so wide that the gold of his eyes was only a faint ring.
You tear your gaze away. “That’s probably a weird thing to offer, so-“
Instead, something cold is pressed into your hands. “You can use this, from now on.” Pierrot said, eyes staring into your own. You stare down with wide eyes, feeling something tacky smear your hands.
You can still feel him watching you.
The throwing knife. Still smeared with blood, but with an edge and a heft that made your eyes widen a bit.
“I can… teach you how to throw?” Pierrot said, seeing you silent.
“That would be cool.” You agreed, hand closing gently around the hilt. It would perhaps be nice to change blades, instead of constantly maneuvering to hide your own at the cafe. “What you pulled off there was seriously impressive.”
And this was a gesture of trust, wasn’t it? He was handing you evidence, telling you that you were in this together. That was probably behind the excitement shaking his voice.
Pierrot must’ve been well trained, to throw in such a deadly manner! You presumed it should’ve been harder, to sink a blade into the skull so precisely instead of wood. But, you supposed, being a circus performer certainly added to training.
You tore your eyes away with some effort, the throwing knife, still bloodstained.
“Hop up on the counter.” You said, tugging the knife away in your apron that hung on the door. It was going to be a late night- lucky you had a spare hoodie, but you were going to need to get this one prepped before the blood set in. “I’ll get the blood off of you.”
Slowly, Pierrot obeys, following you into the kitchen and settling on the counter. They’re looking away, staring at each part of your house as if committing them to memory, when you return carrying your cleaning kit.
“You just walked me home.” You said quietly. “You doubled back, saw me there, we wandered a bit around town as we talked. If anyone asks, we heard the sound of an argument, but assumed it was between lovers.”
The moment lingers, hushed, as you gently take Pierrot’s hand and he lets you. His gloves were impressive, the claws so realistic that you found yourself admiring them. Beautiful, really.
Ever so gently, you began to wipe the blood away.
Pierrot swallowed hard, maybe realizing the den of the predator he had stumbled into.
“Maybe we should walk together more often after this.” He said, voice shaking. “Where I can stay with you. Together. However you want.”
Nobody reports a body, much less two in the morning. When you walk by the alley way later, it’s as clean as if nothing happened.
You set it aside. You had other plans.