"Chapter 2"

"Chapter 2" was published on February 18th 2021.

### Description

Chapter 2 is the second chapter. It follows Bunny as he interacts with a wasted beyond belief Cyrus.

CW/TW: Mention of murder, swearing, alcohol, mention of God, slight self-abuse, and idiocy.

### Original

Here is the link to the original story, although it has been copy-and-pasted onto here for simplicity and nothing has been changed.

### The Story

*Date: February 2021*

*Time: Evening, present*

*Place: The Mansion*

*...*

*Chapter 2*

*~~~*

“Huh? What do you mean she’s hiding them?” Annie questioned me. She was sitting beside me on the torn-up couch in the living room.

“I mean that there’s more of us in the same situation that Rose was in not too long ago, but they’re still hidden away somewhere. I don’t know where or how, but I know they do exist, probably.” I sat up and rubbed my head. I wasn’t surprised that I had a headache at this point.

“But how much can you trust Biocide? I mean, you’ve been suspicious of her since the very beginning, so maybe she laid that as a trap, knowing you’d totally take the bait.” Annie said, fixing the skirt of her dress. She had a good point though, because I definitely wasn’t the most clever person in the group, and I would totally fall for a stupid trap like that.

“Hey,” I said, annoyed.

“It’s totally possible though and you can’t deny that,” she said.

“Well yes, I know that, but it’s just . . . my brain is telling me that it’s right, y’know? You ever get that feeling where like, you know that something seems like it’s an obvious trap because it’s too perfect but you’re still completely sure that it’s not a trap and you fully believe in it?”

“And how often does it work out for you?” Annie asked, obviously very doubtful.

“ . . . “ I hung my head in quiet shame for a few seconds and Annie snorted.

“Thought so.”

“Okay, so I might not be right all the time, but you gotta believe me here! I know that you think that I’m probably wrong because I usually am, but I just have that *feeling* right now and I truly do think that I’m onto something this time ‘round!” I sat up and stared into Annie warm black eyes, hoping to convey my hopelessness and desperation through them. After a few seconds, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now, but if you can’t get any proof that they exist or anything like that within the next two weeks, I’m gonna shame you in front of everyone. You’ll be an even bigger fool than you already are,” she laughed. “But it can’t be just your word. It has to be a physical something, like a photo of them or something that would definitely be proof of them existing.”

“What about Biocide’s journal?” I asked. She sighed.

“Again, I wouldn’t take everything that she writes about in there as complete fact, but if you did get the diary to show me proof, then I guess it would count towards something.” Annie shrugged and I hugged her, taking her by surprise. “Why with the hugging?” She said as she wrapped her arms around me to reciprocate the hug.

“Because you actually believe me. Now, prepare to have your sweet little ass blown off in amazement as I prove that Biocide is different and that there are others.” I said, standing up and walking away from the living room.

“Yeah right, and I only partially believe you. Don’t mistake the two,” Annie said, laying down on the destroyed couch.

“A little bit is still enough Sweetheart,” I said, walking away and pulling out a knife from my pocket. Annie gasped and sat up.

“Bunny, promise me you aren’t going to kill Biocide. Right? You’re not going to kill Biocide, right Bunny? Bunny? Bunny!” Annie said while having a mini panic attack, but I was walking away from her and couldn’t hear her anymore so therefore I didn’t really care. I toyed with the knife in my hands as I wandered around the house and went up to my bedroom, trying to think of a plan. First I needed to figure out Biocide’s schedule, if she had one that is, and then I next needed to know when she’d be away from that journal of hers so that I could snag it from her while she’s not watching it. I laid down on my bed, upside down of course, and began thinking about my next plan of action. However, after roughly half an hour of not being able to think of anything, I gave up and rolled off my bed. I sighed and tossed my knife onto my bed and thought.

“Who might have eyes on Biocide? Obviously not me and probably not Annie either, but I can’t say for sure who might . . .” I said to myself before I realized I was talking out loud. I shrugged it off and continued though, because I couldn’t be bothered if I distracted anyone. I just remembered that Biocide’s bedroom was just down the hall from mine, and so if I monitored it then I could get an idea of her schedule. “But what if she doesn’t use her bedroom like Cyrin? Or what if she sleeps in someone else’s room?” I questioned myself, as I unfortunately remembered the fact that Caelan and S.P. were now dating and often spent all day of every day with each other, and I frowned. It’s not like I was jealous or envious or anything like that because I had Rose now, but it was more of the fact that I still liked Caelan but he wouldn’t even look at me when we occasionally pass in the halls. It’s just a total silent treatment from him, and I hate it.

I shook my head to dismiss my thoughts of Caelan and continued pacing my room. Monitoring Biocide’s room for a while wasn’t a bad idea, but it was also quite time consuming and if I only had two weeks, it means that I wanted to spend as much of that actually doing things and not watching a blank door for the majority of the day. I decided to go downstairs to my office to see if there was anything down there that might help me out with this. On the way downstairs, I passed Corbin and gave him a little smile in which he returned with some blush and hurried on up the stairs as I continued my way down. I turned the corner and was greeted by one of the two office corridors, and continued on down to mine, which was the second on the left. I opened the door with my key and turned on the light, breathing in the cold air, along with another more foul scent that I couldn’t place. The window was open just a tad bit like I liked it and it let in the cold late-winter’s air. I took off my cerulean jacket, which was really just one of Annie’s, and set it on a chair beside the door. The room was clean with papers neatly tucked away in their files in the filing cabinets on the right wall, and miniature decorations and trophies sat on the shelf on the far wall behind my desk. There were a few leather chairs scattered around the room and a coffee table in the corner with a mostly empty, very old and very cold cup of black coffee. I frowned at it, but left it how it was.

I stretched and sat down behind my desk, sinking into my soft office chair as I observed my desk. A cup with pens in it sat beside my silver nameplate that I got custom made with my original name on it, and beside those sat a stack of papers. Half of the papers were written in Polish and the other half was in Arabic. The ones in Arabic were documents of notes relating to murder rates and money inflation, and the ones in Polish were some kind of manuscript about, again, murder. I shrugged them off and began digging through the papers in my desk.

“Is none of my paperwork in English . . . ?” I questioned to myself as I flipped through stacks of work. I got fed up and turned around, scanning the books sitting on the shelf behind me. None of them did me any help because it was all just junk that made no sense, and all probably related to my prior job. To be honest, I don’t remember anything of my past life either, but now that I think of it . . .

“Wasn’t it Biocide that told me I was a mafia boss?” I said to myself as I sat up and stared at the door to the room. It didn’t even click that she might have been lying. “What if I was just some . . . some nobody?” I said, putting my head in my hands as I stared down at my desk. After a few shaky breaths and narrowly avoiding a mental breakdown, I cleared my throat and stood up. I got a headrush and blinked a few times, then I sniffed the air again. I knew exactly what that foul smell that I’d been smelling the whole time was and exactly where it was coming from. I grabbed and put on my coat and left my office, going over to the one right beside me closest to the hall. I knocked on the door a few times and with no answer, I opened the door and stepped inside.

I was suddenly and violently hit with the smell of alcohol and I reeled back for a second, then closed the door behind me. I turned on the light and basked in the messiness of the room. Papers were crumpled and scattered and the trash can was tipped over. Inside sat an empty bottle of vodka. I walked over to the desk and took the large green bottle from the person who was lying there and held it up for me to read it. “Absinthe, huh? Y’know, I always preferred something . . . less like this.” I said, placing the bottle back down beside the computer on the desk. My gaze trailed down to the person at the desk, lying there in a drunken state. I looked around at the ten- maybe twenty- other empty bottles of absinthe lying around and I took a moment to reflect.

“Hmmmm.” I said.

“Snerk,” they said. I looked back down at them and tapped them on the head a few times before they made a few more unpleasant noises and then immediately took another swig from the bottle of absinthe in their hand.

“Good morning sweetheart. How was your beauty sleep? You look gorgeous by the way,” I said, very sarcastically.

“Yeah yeah, fuck you Bunny,” Cyrus mumbled, failing to stand up and just fell back into their chair. Their hair was a darker teal than usual and was slicked back with too much gel, but was also in disarray due to it probably having been neglected recently. Cyrus’ round silver glasses were bent and crooked and half falling off their face. They wore a fully buttoned up white dress shirt that covered their neck and a lime green vest over top, along with their usual yoga pants and heels.

“Y’know, when you quit drinking for hundred of years and then pick up heavily drinking like you did before, it’s not gonna be as unproblematic as it was before. You’re quite useless right now, just saying.” I shrugged and stared down at Cyrus as they took another drink.

“Do I look like I fucking care?” Cyrus asked, throwing the empty bottle to the floor and pulling out another one from beneath their desk.

“How many bottles of alcohol do you have under there?” I asked, trying to look under their desk.

“I dunno . . . like a few of this . . . and . . .  a few of that and . . . and lots of absinthe. Lots of absinthe.” Cyrus nodded as if they were confirming with themself.

“Dude, you have a problem,” I said. “You need to stop.”

“Nahhhhhhhhhhh,” Cyrus said, dragging out their words- er, word. “If I keep drinking, then I’ll will get better and not be drunk anymore.”

“You’re usually so much better than this. Look, you’re even improperly speaking with contractions, you’re clearly wasted.” I said, shaking my head.

“Contractions are . . . a . . . social construct,” Cyrus said, taking a drink from the bottle in their hand. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the bottle, much to their displeasure.

“Yeah sure whatever, but I need you to do something for me.” I said, holding the bottle out of Cyrus’ reach as they very weakly attempted to get it back from me.

“Alcomohol,” Cyrus said, before sighing and leaning back. It seemed as if they’d partially sobered up in a second once I stopped them from chain drinking. “Fine, what’cha want?” They asked, definitely still drunk but not a blundering idiot now.

“I need you to first tell me everything you know about Biocide, then I need you to watch her and figure out if she has a daily routine or something, okay?” I said, eyeing Cyrus as they swayed in their seat.

“But that requires me to actually doooo stuff,” they groaned, trying again to grab the drink from my hand. I held it out further behind me and Cyrus sighed. “Fine, just gimme the fun juice.”

“Fun juice? How drunk are you?” I asked, setting the bottle down on the desk as they snatched it out of my hands right away. They downed another portion in a few seconds and smiled.

“Very.” Cyrus blinked a few times before setting down the bottle beside them and mashing a few keys on the keyboard in front of them before they hit the power button and successfully turned on the computer.

“What are you doing? I asked, walking around behind them and leaning over their shoulder to see the screen.

“I’m pulling up Biocide’s profile, duh,” Cyrus slurred as they took another swig.

“You have a profile on her?”

“I have everyone I could ever want,” they said, smiling at me. “Because I’m gorgeous and loveable y’know,” they laughed. I blinked as I quickly looked over their disheveled state of being.

“Yeah, sure . . .” I said. Cyrus loaded up their computer and turned it on, opening up a document file titled *Biocide Information Sheet* that contained a variety of her personal information. A fair amount of the questions were left blank as apparently everything about her wasn’t known. I scanned each line of text, hoping to find something of any use to me. “Height: 6’4, Weight: 185 lbs, Blood type: A-, yadda yadda whatever,” I mumbled to myself as I read.

“Anything useful?” Cyrus asked.

“No, not really- wait, scroll back up.” I stopped Cyrus and took the mouse from them as I examined a particular spot. It read:

*Skill(s): The ability to repress anything and anyone to the point of being completely forgotten or wiped out like it never existed in the first place*.

“Holy shit,” I said, stepping back.

“What about it?” Cyrus said, drinking some more. I glared at them.

“Is this . . . is this legit information?” I asked. “Where’d you get this from?”

“Uhm, let’s see, I . . .” Cyrus took a moment and stared up at the ceiling. “I think they gave it to me.”

“Who? Who gave it to you?” I asked, getting annoyed.

“God, obviously.”

“ . . . God . . . “ I stopped and muttered the word, staring at Cyrus in disbelief. “You’re . . . you’re telling me that *God* gave you this information?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. At least, that’s what I thought I said. What did I say? I forgot.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose in anger.

“Oh my god . . . you’re completely useless . . . why did I even think that you could be any help to me?” I asked, banging my head against the wall behind Cyrus. They held out the bottle of absinthe to me and I just stopped, completely dumbfounded. I was so done with their shit at this point in time that I grabbed the bottle and took a hearty swig of it, feeling the strong spice of it burn the back of my throat as I swallowed.

“Do you wanna know a fun fact about Biocide?” Cyrus said happily, completely oblivious to the fact that I was ready to strange them. I sighed in agreement and rested my head on the wall. “Did you know that she goes swimming twice every day, once at near midnight and once just after noon? It’s great because I get to see her each day and sometimes she’ll come talk to me too if I’m awake and she sees me watching her-”

“Why didn’t you tell me this from the beginning!” I yelled and Cyrus recoiled, clutching the bottle of absinthe to their chest. I sighed and pinched my nose again. “It’s . . . it’s fine, whatever. What time is it right now?” I asked, checking my wristwatch for the time and then remembering I don’t wear watches.

“It’s like . . . I dunno . . . eleven-ish.” Cyrus said, turning back to their computer and closing the document of Biocide and accidentally opening an internet browser. There was a question typed into the search bar already and it said “*Is it considered incest if they’re adopted and you’re not?”*. I looked down at Cyrus as they seemed to not to notice the tab was open, but I shook it off and continued.

“It’s eleven already? Damn, I guess time flies when you’re dealing with wasted baboons,” I said, looking back at Cyrus who was finishing off yet another bottle. “That’s definitely not healthy. You’ve really gotta stop at some point.”

“Baboon? I like baboons, but aren’t they just soap- soaph- sophie- soapy-tea-cake-ted. Yes, they’re soap-tea-cake-ted monkeys.” Cyrus was nodding to themself once more.

“Are- Are you trying to say sophisticated?” I questioned, staring at Cyrus like they were a complete and total utter idiot. To be fair, they were.

“Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh,” they said, dragging out their words again. “Soap tea cake ted monkeys are my favouriteeeeeee.”

“Okay well you can . . . continue your pathetic drunken . . . whatever now. I’m leaving and I hopefully won’t come back any time soon,” I said, walking to the door and turning off the lights. Cyrus slurred some goodbye or something as I closed the door and I immediately breathed in the normal air with great relief, forgetting what it had felt like to breathe air that wasn’t mostly alcohol. I sighed and walked over to the living room and sat down on one of the chairs, hiding myself from sight so that you couldn’t see me. I waited there for a little while until I saw her- Biocide- come down the stairs and quickly look into the window on the side of Cyrus’ office, checking that they were still there. Biocide quickly dismissed Cyrus and continued on down the other hallway to the change rooms for the pool, and then I left my hiding spot once I heard the change room door close. I grinned to myself as I climbed the stairs to the second floor, but out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn that I saw a flash of pink hair on the first floor. I dismissed it and continued on until I stood in front of Biocide’s bedroom door, then I tried to twist the handle.

As expected, it was locked. Every single door in this house can be locked except for the kitchen doors and patio doors. There’s only one person in this entire house who has a key ring with a key for every room in this house, and I snagged it from them while they were passed out drunk. I grabbed the key ring from a drawer beside my bed and tried every key on Biocide’s lock, but none of them worked. I was determined to get inside though, so I grabbed my lock picking set and set to work. I popped open the lock, opened the door, and was shocked by what I saw.