Marvin saw the door to his train car get pried open by three floating hands that he was sure belonged to the boyfriend of the guy he was sent to assassinate. He saw how he had donuted his own boyfriend and healed him. He was ruthless and powerful. If he failed to stop him, not only would that mean his death, but it would also mean having his boss come after him if he were lucky enough to survive. He heard the man below him talking to himself, as though he were psyching himself up to jump. Could he somehow pull himself up with these hands? If so, stopping him would be easy. The moment Marvin Grapevine heard the man beneath him jump, he turned one of the hands into salt, and the sudden lack of strength holding the door open caused it to shut violently, sending Marvin flying back in fear.

* * *

Thomas was shocked as he saw his lifeline turn to salt as it fell downwards into freefall—dust in the wind, just as Thomas was now. He had fallen, completely unsecured as he plummeted from his train car which was now rapidly leaving him behind as they travelled at great speeds in opposite directions. Thomas began to panic and hyperventilate, sucking in the air that was hitting his face as he fell in a skydiver’s position towards the tops of some of Neonight’s buildings. Thomas was about to try something he found gross and slightly ridiculous, but he had tried lifting himself with his phantom hands already and he couldn’t generate enough force. Flying would be impossible already without the horrible pain that filled his hands anyhow. He had to try. It was his only bet.

* * *

Dominic paid the bill and walked outside of La Bonne Nouris, not sure how to feel about the whole situation. Thomas had saved his life, but it appeared as though he was about to kill another man. He was technically a criminal—somebody Dominic worked tirelessly to put away. But he couldn’t help but feel warm about the situation overall. And he couldn’t help but want another date. And he couldn’t help but feel terror as he saw a man plummeting from a train car that was heading towards Neonight’s upper region. A man he instinctively knew was Thomas. “Holy shit. Thomas, is that you falling from a train car?” Dominic shouted into his Unit.

“Yup,” he replied. “But don’t worry, I’ll be all right.” Dominic was looking up at the figure before seeing a large sheet of phantom skin appear behind him, tethered to his back, and his falling began to slow. “Gross, huh? It’s made of skin and veins, and holy shit do they ever hurt.”

“Yeah, it’s gross as hell. But it would’ve been a lot grosser if you splattered on the concrete. And a bit sadder.”

“Only a bit?” Thomas responded, and the two started laughing uncontrollably until Thomas landed safely in front of the restaurant. And then the two embraced for the second time that night.

“So did you, um, kill him?” Dominic asked hesitantly.

* * *

Marvin Grapevine let out a yelp of relief and joy as his pursuer vanished into the night. While he hadn’t accomplished his goal, without his boyfriend, Dominic would be a sitting duck. Marvin laughed, shutting his eyes as he cackled. Then, he felt something fly into his open mouth and saw one of the phantom hands ram down his throat. Gripping the salt shaker.

* * *

“What are you talking about? I’m not a killer, Dominic.” Thomas lied as he felt his phantom hand being ripped apart by a mass of dozens of razor blades filling the bastard’s stomach, completely disembowelling him. “I’m not a killer.”

* * *

A group of drunk and rowdy teens had entered their apartment, suddenly dropping their groceries on the tile floor as they saw about five figures tied up in red wire, wriggling and making muffled screams as they lay immobilized on the floor. Then, they heard the door shut behind them and saw two female figures exit from two of the bedrooms. “Cute place,” one of them said, the one with long red flowing hair that resembled the wires that bound and gagged the five teens on the floor.

“We’ve come to collect on our payment. You purchased several bottles of Chorus from us on your tab, and you’ve yet to pay us back.” the other one, who sported shorter turquoise hair, said calmly as the other three people at the front door shivered in fear. “Do you have our money or not?”

“Y-you’re the Krokodils, right?” the one at the front whimpered.

“How perceptive. Now do you have our money or not?” Her voice was calm and even.

“Look, you can’t just barge in here and tie up our friends! Look it’s technically a house party, but it’s invite-only.”

“Are you going to call the police? Chorus is an illicit substance, so I doubt they’d be of much help to the people buying it. And if you don’t have our money, then we’ll be taking the contents of this home as collateral.”

“You can’t take our shit!” one of the boys hollered before his head was blown apart like an apple in the microwave. And before the others could protest, they too were corpses on the floor, leaking blood from their many bullet holes. The calm woman brought her heat gun down and sighed.

“How many lives must be cut short by people making noise when they shouldn’t? Kill the others. They’ve seen too much.” The woman walked towards the window as the five hostages behind her were sliced apart into even cylinders by the tightening of the red wire. “We have a busy night ahead.”