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When Remus shuffled out of his room at half-past-ten, hungry and picking at a loose thread on his pajamas, he found a dagger stuck to his door.
This wasn’t too unusual on its own. However, it was on the outside of the door, the hilt was wrapped in red ribbon, and it was holding up a letter. Remus was pretty sure he’d remember doing something like that, even with his dissociation issues.
“I got mail,” he said, sitting next to Janus at their kitchen island.
“And I told Roman he could just hand it to me like a normal person.”
“Wait, you saw him?”
Janus took a long, slow drink of his coffee.
“What’s in it?”
“If I had to guess, anthrax. Or a marriage proposal.”
Remus slipped the dagger under the flap of the envelope and pulled out a sheet of stationary. A scrap of burnt fabric fluttered to the ground when he unfolded it.
You cheeky little shit, it couldn’t be more obvious this was you if you’d signed it.
The burnt fabric helped to narrow it down a bit. Still, there were three pranks this could possibly be, set up like a cartoon rake for Roman to wander into.
I would have gutted you from neck to pelvis if I didn’t just spend hours fixing my replica Coliseum. I’m going to make it better than I did before, then I’ll come kill you. Unlike you, I don’t rush art.
That’s why I’m going to make your death slow and painful.
I’ll use a knife with a serrated blade, because I want it to hurt more. I’ll wake you up by burying it in your chest, past even your ribs, and I’ll carve my name so deeply that it’s visible on your heart and lungs. Or maybe I’ll spend hours before your death with nothing but you, me, and that same knife. I’ll leave bloody gashes on every bit of exposed skin I can find. I won’t even spare your face, or your hands, or your
Knowing you, this probably excites you more than anything. I hope you enjoy it, pervert. It’s the only pleasure you’ll get to experience before your death.
“Hey, Jan. I think I’m in love.”
All he had to do was grab a few things from his room. Then, Roman could get back to putting out the garbage fire that his brother had made of his beloved coliseum, and he could finish off his day by killing the bastard. Really, these schedules he came up with were nice and simple. Logan needed to stop doubting his ability to—
There was a note on Roman’s door. More specifically, a note addressed to him, in Remus’ handwriting, stuck there with his own dagger.
Hi Prissy,
For someone who claims this is just about revenge, you’re very fixated on whether I think your threats are hot. I do think they’re hot, even though you’re clearly holding yourself back.
From one writer to another, you could always go into more detail about the erotic elements of it. I saw you crossing out words, and you shouldn’t do that. Don’t suppress those fantasies. Tell me exactly where you want to put that knife.
Or, you could always just do them to me. Janus isn’t into that, so you would be the first in years. I have wanted you to put a sword between my ribs for as long as I can remember. Stabbing is just a bloodier form of penetration, after all.
By the way, feel free to jerk off to this. All I ask is that you let me watch.