The two had been lying in bed being supremely lazy and he couldn't have asked for more because he was supremely hungover from that damn tree lighting. Illyana had been smart offering him drink after drink in public. He never could resist her charms when there were eyes on them. If his head hadn't been pounding he would have congratulated her strategic affections.
He had his own brand of strategy when it came to what little heart either of them had and she would soon come to eat her words from their recent argument. If her Christmas gift didn't prove how much she mattered to him, then she was beat. He didn't know how else to show her.
"Listen," he started quietly, trying not to disturb his finally tolerable migraine. "I know we said we weren't doing anything big this year," he went on with a vague motion to a grand holiday. "But you're one of only two people I even buy gifts which means you fucking matter to me. So I got you a little something," he admitted, leaning over to his nightstand and pulling a small box from its drawer. Inside held a man's watch stopped at a very important time, the meaning behind all of which she would find out once she opened it. "Merry Christmas Anora," he told her as he handed it over.
⚓If one of them had to leave forever, what would they leave behind for the other? Ethan would leave behind his favorite piece from his trophy box. And one of his molars, roots and all. Along with the video of him pulling it out on his own.
💤Who has the weirdest sleep-talking lines that the other quotes constantly? Oh, Ethan a hundred percent. He has stress-induced sleep-walking (along with insomnia), so he talks a lot in his sleep during those time periods. God knows what the fuck kind of shit comes out of his mouth. (All super normal, nice, and silly shit. That's what.)
🔥What’s the pettiest thing they’ve ever argued about? Whether a green or blue shirt brought out Ethan's eyes more when they were getting ready for some stupid fucking premiere event in Vegas. Their stylist eventually won out with one that expertly mixed the two colors together, convincing them it brought out both of their brown eyes.
☕Who’s the morning person & how do they lure the night owl out of bed? Neither one of them are morning people unless obligated.
Illyana is the only woman he has ever enjoyed letting take control in any way. It deeply fucks with his ego, but he is more addicted to the rush she gives him by keeping up and sometimes even outdoing him. It didn't start out that way however, his initial attraction very routine and her name simply next on his list.
Ethan likes to provide Illy with a juicy story every once in awhile. When he can feel her getting a little bit of cabin fever. The specifics of which he's never told her. He can't tell her all of his secrets after all. But he has gifted her with a trophy from each one unbeknownst to Anora, each piece of jewelry loved as much as the last.
Whenever Ethan has executed a kill meant as a gift for Illyana, he films it and takes some form of dental remnant as her trophy. He even got her her own treasure box for the hard drives that each video is saved on and a second for all her teeth. Those kills he doesn't keep a trophy for himself due to the motivations behind them. Very much like a cat leaving a dead mouse at your doorstep, the trophies just show up - in the form of both affection and apology.
She is the only one who has never been drugged by him as far as prey goes. But only just barely. He had her drink mixed and ready to go when he watched her handle an overzealous asshole at the club he'd taken her to, brutally piercing his ear Mike Tyson style. He offered her spiked drink to the guy as partial compensation as he whisked her away before he could press any real charges.
John-Paul sees himself getting a place with Maddox, getting a better job somewhere so he's not always gone at peak hours, and one thousand percent becoming John-Paul Cooper.
Charles Payne sees himself doing the same shit on a different day.
Madison Cooper sees herself back in L.A. and onto the next project after being a part of her brother's wedding, hopefully with a niece or nephew to spoil.
Ethan Harrison sees himself continuing to travel the world with his wife, always one step ahead of the authorities, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
Vincent Holliday hopes to be settled in with Declan. Maybe at the farmhouse. Just enjoying each other and living life together. He knows one thing's for sure, he's not letting him get away again.
Emily Sanders is going to be married five years longer with twins five years older and testing out five years' worth of Zach's projects, drawing concept art and filling sketchbooks of her favorite moments together.
Oscar Lockmoore gonna be continuing on his current path. Steady job. Keeping Emily safe. (Although thanks to Zach he now worries about that a little less.) Putting bad guys away. He'd like someone to share his life with, but given his harsh work hours and baggage, he's not holding his breath. Maybe he'll get a pet.
Holden Reynolds sees himself taking over more responsibilities at the ranch and maybe, just maybe, spending a lot more time having Penny as a more permanent part of his life.
Jack Shaw is gonna be having fun and getting laid.
(under the cut will be a cliff's notes version of Ethan's hunt. included will be drug use, non-consensual drug use, manipulation, violence, murder, gore mention, corpse manipulation. IT IS A LONG ONE.)
He was getting incredibly bored. And antsy. And irritated. Where the fuck was Illyana? He was sure she had to be around somewhere. He checked his watch, wiping at his nose in the reflection of its face. She should have been here by now. What a naughty fucking bitch! Standing him up on New Year's Eve after he so graciously opened up and committed himself to her. She was going to be punished for upsetting him.
And antsy. And he needed another drink. And maybe a little pick me up from the coke Autumn had so lovingly stashed for elites only. Just enough to help Ethan keep balancing the metaphoric line the toxic mixture always made between euphoria and violence.
He was getting incredibly irritated. And antsy. And bored. He scanned the crowd for anyone interesting enough to distract his mind long enough to cease the need for its stimulation. But it was nothing but the same face over and over - each plastic socialite one and the same to him. And that's when he saw her.
Mary.
Bored.
His eyes watched as she flitted about the estate. Refilling trays. Removing empty ones. Disappearing into the kitchen then reappearing with trays of drinks. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and for--
"You've been working so hard. I think you're entitled to a little break. Don't you think?" he asked, holding out a hand to her chest to stop her.
"Ms. Manchester hasn't said anything about breaks."
He took the empty tray from her hands and set it on a nearby table. "You let me worry about Ms. Manchester," he swore with a snort.
How fucking proper. Ms. Manchester. He was going to just love breaking little Ms. Mary.
"Come on. Dance with me," he told her, taking her by the hand and leading her out to the floor before she had a chance to say no. Or to get away.
His gaze bore deep into hers and surprisingly she kept their eyes locked as they danced; although he caught the familiar glint of self-doubt as she tried to prove she was worthy of the attention he was giving her. He wondered how many other wealthy men she let hit trying to climb the economic ladder using that same false confidence. And how many of them ever gave a shit enough to figure her out like he had before discarding her back to the gutters.
He slithered a hand around her waist and pulled her closer inhaling her scent deeply. Her quiet fear was delicious. "You know I haven't forgotten my promise to you," his breath warm at her neck as his lips ghosted against her ear.
"What promise?"
"To show you how the other half lives," he reminded her, leaning back just enough to catch her gaze again. There was that cute little flush of naivety again when that confidence faltered, her cheeks warming to a soft pink.
"I should really get back to work."
It was too late for that sweetheart.
"You should live a little," he challenged. "Take a chance on me and you'll never have to work again," he added, smirking knowingly, their lips brushing against each other as he spoke. "What'd you say Mary? Be with me?"
He caught the slight tension as she held her breath debating on his sincerity, ultimately giving the green light with just as slight of a nod, but the smile she gave was wide and welcoming. One full of hope for the start of a great new year with a great new beau. Ethan matched her joy, leaning their foreheads together momentarily before whisking her off to grab a drink - downing a whiskey for himself and taking a spicy long island for her.
-----
In a different life, at a different time, on another planet, things may have turned out better for Mary. Her laugh was genuine and almost infectious as she and Ethan made their way through darkened halls toward the wine cellar, his arm draped easily around her shoulders, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as they walked. A hand tipped up her glass to help her finish off the rest of her drink, eyes alight with the excitement of what was to come as he watched the last swallow go down her throat. His finger traced along behind it before his lips found their way to her pulse, nipping just harshly enough to stifle his growing hunger as the duo headed through to the back of the cellar.
"You're about to get an inside look at who Autumn Manchester really is," he said, parting from Mary and pulling a box from a lower shelf. He opened to find all the party favors promised by his bestie, including his wife's personal allotment. He pocketed Illyana's bag before turning back to Mary and showing off the contents with a sly smile. "Say hello to Ms Manchester's energy boosters," he told her, pulling a bag of power from the mix and starting to set out a line on the small mirror inside.
Mary stared at the drugs inside and her brow furrowed in worry. She blinked slowly as if trying to process what just how cavalier he was being, but Ethan could see the realization that something was off starting to grow. She was now starting to doubt her decision to follow him into the depths of the estate. You're too late sweetheart. He smirked her way knowingly.
"Don't tell me you're one of her fangirls who believes all that healthy living and Pilates bullshit," he warned just before snorting the thin, white line, holding his nose momentarily as he sniffed a few more times for good measure then wiping it clean. The longer she watched him, the more her vision started to blur, her eyelids growing heavier by the second.
"I forgot to mention," he started with a tap to his head as if just realizing, starting to set out a second line. The drowsiness came on just in time. As expected. Poor Mary. The world was just too evil for her to survive. "They've been making the drinks extra strong tonight. But don't worry. This is how the elites make it through the day. It'll pick you right back up," he told her, handing over the small straw-like tube. "Trust me," he added with an enticing wiggle of the straw. "I thought you wanted to be like us?" he asked deceptively, though his charm was starting to wane.
Her obvious answer had been yes because she stumbled a bit forward and snorted the line while Ethan held back her hair. "Gotta live a little, right?" she challenged with a gentle quiver once she righted herself, though had she been in her right mind she would have turned tail and ran.
His smirk turned vile freely as he searched her eyes for something he'd never find. Just like Illy. Maybe Mary wasn't as innocent as he thought, but that's when he saw that flicker. The fear from staring into his eyes, the emptiness of them in these moments uncontrollably cold and dark. His smile twitched with rage. Nothing like Illy. Fucking fake bitch! "Life is too short not to," he quipped back knowingly, sliding a hand to her neck to pull her in for kiss to finally have his control.
Antsy.
-----
Once he managed to get them a free room, he roughly pushed her down onto the bed, a breathless giggle leaving her as their kiss parted. She was so stupid. Still believing she had a chance with him. Ha!
He wiped his mouth, making sure to get every last remnant of her from his skin. She tasted like shit. Like a fucking ashtray. God damn smoker. "You know you should really quit," he said with disgust, pointing at her as he turned back to lock the door. "Smoking," he said with a cigarette motion as he made his way back to her. "You should quit. It's bad for your health. It's just too bad for you, I'm worse," he warned with a sigh, standing next to the bed and watching her as she tried to climb higher up on the bed.
"Feels pretty heavy, doesn't it?"
Her confusion was cute.
"It's Rohypnol," he explained matter-of-factly, continuing to watch her struggle to move. "Well that and Autumn's coke you did in the cellar. You really shouldn't go snooping around your clients' houses by the way. That's very unprofessional," he scolded her, tsking his tongue against his teeth. "At least that's what they'll think when they find you," he shrugged as he pulled Illy's special stash from his pocket and began setting the stage on the nightstand.
Her eyes grew wide as she rolled over and tried to crawl off the bed as he set out one line, then half of another before retying the bag shut and returning it safely to his pocket. (Illy wouldn't miss any of it.) He grabbed hold of Mary's hip and yanked her back toward him, rummaging through her pockets for a tip, knowing there were more than few soft hearts in Carroll willing to empty their own for the less fortunate. He pulled out a one and rolled it up, tossing it on the table next to the drugs.
"I'm sure your obituary will be a glowing example of how corrupt California is for the sweet and innocent. No matter how small the town. But really, it's just the people that are evil here. Always has been," he started, grabbing her once more and rolling back onto her back with a grunt. (Or was it a growl? Mary couldn't be quite sure.) "I couldn't tell you why we all seem to gravitate this way, but we do. If you ask my wife, she'd tell you it's the weather," he went on speculating as he climbed on top of her, staring directly in her eyes with the mention of Illy, eating up the fear induced realization in Mary's eyes. "Trust me. I did you a favor by not including her. She's worse than I am," he lied, reaching above them for a pillow.
Before Mary could figure out what her was doing, he was holding it over her face. His grip held fast and tight, pressing down on it as hard as he could. Her renewed struggle from her adrenaline wasn't enough to overpower the evil within him, but he relished in feeling her squirm beneath him. His entire body pressed against the pillow as he leaned down next to it to hear her muffled cries for help that wouldn't come. It was a symphony of death until her body stopped jarring and everything just went silent.
Irritated.
----
Ethan's chest heaved as he stayed straddling her body, pillow over her face long enough to make sure. Double tap and all that jazz. He didn't need another Chelsea incident. That bitch had had a fight in her. The scar on the back of his left shoulder proved it. God damn those security keychains. This one, not so much. But you never knew.
Content her heart had ceased for good, he tossed the pillow back to its spot and began dragging her further up the bed before hopping off to one side and rolling her onto hers with a small grunt. Why did dead weight always have to be so God damn heavy. He slid down the edge of the bed and leaned back against it, catching his breath a moment, glancing over his shoulder at her now peacefully quiet form. He brushed her hair from her face and turned around so he could see her up close.
"I really wish I could have seen it," he mused quietly through a sigh as he stared deep in her lifeless eyes, disappointed he hadn't been able watch her last moments of life, fully satiating his bloodlust, but c'est la vie. It would suffice for a little New Year's treat. And after being such a good boy to Illy at Christmas, he'd deserved one.
His fingers tenderly unfastened the delicate gold heart necklace from around her neck and tucked it safely in his breast pocket, right next to Illy's stash. He shifted her arms and legs a bit more to make the whole scene more believable and complete before finally abandoning Mary to her fate. He made his way across the room to the dresser and put his reflection back together, looking every bit back to the co-host and bestie to the woman of the evening.
Ethan didn't even bother looking back at the body on the bed as he unlocked the door and walked away. The sounds out the party grew louder as he made his way back through the estate to the main foyer. He grabbed a whiskey from the bar, giving the tender a smile and a nod in thanks, slipping a ten in the tip jar before sipping from the glass. His eyes returned to scanning the crowd looking for Illyana.
He was getting incredibly irritated.
He checked his watched. She should have been here by now.
And incredibly bored.
His eyes were pulled from the faces in the crowd to the projection up above as footage from a wreckage began to play. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as crimson red fills the screen. You sly little fox. His heart began to race as the feed panned along the street, stopping on a chunk of scalp. He wanted to reach through and stroke the strands still attached. Pity there weren't any teeth for you. He shut his eyes and let the symphony of the victims' cries and moans drift to his ears, a shuddering breath escaping him, the fear coming from their calls for help nearly sending him over the edge.
Ethan's eyes sprang back open and he downed the rest of his drink, the screen now black and everyone reeling from the shock of it all. He could have care less. He had to find her.
