More Than Meets The Eye

by poppyseed_x

Summary:

After creating the new Honmoon and defeating Gwi-Ma, Rumi's demonic side is never fully satisfied.

And now she's killing again, but this time it's not demons.

Notes:

Dexter-esque type fic where Rumi begins killing humans who behave like demons (murderers, rapists, etc). Mira is partially against it, but Zoey is sexually aroused by it. This is my first KPDH fic so please go easy on me. I've only recently seen it and watched it a couple times and I'm (consistently) doing some research before I wrote this. LOL I just wanted to get a small epilogue out. If I'm not correct on anything, please let me know. I'm a huge fan of KPop, though, so I'm not entirely useless lol

If it gets any traction, I'll continue. :3

Chapter 1: Broken Promises

Rumi inhaled sharply before sliding the knife between the ribs with a wet sigh. She breathed out her nose, cutting down the flesh with practiced ease. She thought this one would put up more of a fight considering he had strangled three sex workers with his bare hands in the back alleys near them hours before. She had been watching him for the past week, memorizing his schedule, so this was more a disappointment and a let down than anything. She sighed softly as she slid the blade free and wiped it clean on the man’s jacket.

Mira would be furious if she had found out. Again, of course, but Rumi tends to ignore her bitching. This might have been the second or third time she’s had done something like this without the others, but Rumi decided a long time ago to not get them involved. Out of the corner of her eyes, Zoey’s silhouette shifted near the doorway, watching Rumi as her breath was audible enough even over the hum of the industrial freezer. Rumi turned over shoulder, and tossed a pair of rubber gloves in her direction.

The younger girl caught them and shook her head. “You promised, Rumi,” said Zoey as she snapped the gloves on with a little squeak as she adjusted them. “No more solo hunts after New York.” Rumi didn’t say anything, just pointed to the man’s restrained feet indicating that she needed help. Yes, Rumi did promise, but once the Honmoon was sealed and Gwi-Ma defeated, she would rid the world of anyone portraying themselves as monsters… even if they were humans doing terrible things. Perhaps even if they were fans of Huntr/x themselves.

Zoey struggled with the man’s feet in her grasp, and Rumi picked up the man’s hands. She caught Rumi’s commentary just before they began to shift the man slowly to the incinerator outside toward the docks. “Funny,” Rumi mumbled as she dropped him right at the door entrance and crouched down to spy smeared lipstick on the man’s collar. This wasn’t his wife’s shade and Rumi knew it. She was even stalking the fucker at his home for a month prior, just to make sure that this is really how she wanted to go about it. “It’s like they become anyone else when they’re done screaming.”

A shiver went through her as Zoey’s breath fogged the air. Rumi knelt down to zip the body bag. Silence had stretched enough between herself and Zoey with all the things they wouldn’t say. These were the things Mira already said, angrily and repeatedly, before slamming doors and threatening physical violence. Whatever Mira did, it didn’t bother Rumi as much as it did Zoey, which is probably the reason why she was the more suitable one to keep those kinds of promises, but she would cave and always be the one to help drag the bag to the incinerator.

Besides, whenever Rumi went on hunts, things became messy. Very messy and it was something that Zoey had secretly enjoyed even if she harbors those feelings to herself. It almost became routine whenever she realized Rumi had that look on her face. It was like she was not there with her mentally and the lights have gone out. Rumi was a completely different person. Once they had the body prepared and the incinerator fired up, they groaned, picking him up again and swung him like a hammock until they tossed him in. Their shoes scuffed the concrete beneath them as the bag rustled into the small space and Rumi closed the door. Orange flames licked upward in an instant engulfing the body except for an extended foot that kept twitching.

“He smelled like bourbon,” said Zoey as she stepped up, stretching down her glove to adjust again as she shoved the corpse’s ankles further so the door could close securely. She looked over at Rumi who was staring at her with this look like Zoey was this precious thing that needed to be protected for an eternity. There it was. That feeling she got between her legs and the small flush crept up the back of her neck. Zoey smiled as she walked over to light a cigarette between her lips. “Do you think Mira will realize what happened tonight?” She blew out some smoke, and flicked off some ash on the end before putting it between her lips again.

Rumi smirked, taking the cigarette from Zoey’s lips. “Oh yeah. We’re toast.” Rumi took a long drag from the cigarette and the two stood there for a long time watching their work literally be caught up in the flames. The incinerator belched up smoke. Nature knew how to recycle anything, even monsters. Mira knew how this worked, but she was having constant moral dilemmas that were hindering Rumi’s work because that demon side never stood for long. She knew as soon as she stepped back into the penthouse, Mira would be on her like a guard dog.

“We need to take the next few days slowly,” said Rumi as she slid an arm around Zoey’s waist. “Given the fact our anniversary is next week.”

“Yeah,” Zoey began as she leaned into Rumi. Her eyes stared at the dancing flames as they finished off the cigarette between them. Zoey snubbed it out under her boot. “She’ll smell it on us though. She’ll want to know where we’ve been.” The scent of smoke, blood and metal clung to their clothes and skin, but that was the very thing that turned Zoey on. It caused her arousal to feel so deep, that whenever she caught a whiff of Rumi doing anything under Mira’s nose, she wanted to tag along.

Chapter 2: Incheon Harbor Butcher

Summary:

After a filthy, smutty session in the elevator, Rumi and Zoey attempt to convince a stubborn Mira to join them in their peculiar fight for justice.

Notes:

A huge shout out and thank you to the user 'ynaaaanari' for helping me out with a neat killer name for Rumi. I'm learning so many new things every day about this fandom and culture. BUT I'm just gonna toss you filthy lot into the smutty fray, okay? I couldn't help myself. Zoey being unhinged might be the best thing here. Eventually these chapters are going to be around 2-3k each. I'll work my way there because damn, the amount of detail in my head has no boundaries at all.

So, um, yeah. ENJOY!!

As they stepped inside Lotte World Tower, the doors to the elevator closed behind them. However, instead of just standing there doing nothing, Rumi was already closing the small gap between herself and Zoey. Her hand reached for her throat, not to choke, but to tilt her head back and expose the delicate flutter under her skin. “You like this,” growled Rumi. Her breath was hot on Zoey’s ears as the elevator lurched upward.

She backed Zoey against the mirrors and the dark haired girl felt the unmistakable heat coming from the hard thickness between Rumi’s legs. “Tell me,” Rumi murmured, her free hand slipping underneath Zoey’s blue crop top. Her fingers danced over lace and her thumb slid over a covered nipple at her breasts. Zoey whimpered, arching her back into the touch.

“Tell me how wet you got when you watched me carve that bastard open.” Rumi pressed into her further, teeth grazing down her neck. Rumi still smelled like iron and smoke, but that just made Zoey’s situation so much worse. There was a bit of half-guilt in her eyes, but the other half was hunger. Her breath hitched as the memory flickered behind her eyelids. Rumi’s blade glinting under a streetlamp and the way his desperate screams filled the night air until they had gurgled into silence.

Rumi pinned Zoey harder against the mirrors, her hips rocking instinctively with a deliberate grinding pressure. “You came in your cute little panties, didn’t you Zo? Those cute little ones with the turtles on them? All while I washed his blood from my hands.” Zoey didn’t answer, she couldn’t. She bit back a moan so loud it would shatter the mirrors around them. Why was she like this? Why did the very fact that Rumi killed someone had been her kink? It was exposed and Rumi was doing everything she could to exploit it just now.

Zoey moaned, parting her legs further as Rumi ran her fingers at the waistband of her parachute pants. She slid them off hurriedly as they landed at the ankles of her legs and Rumi was pleasantly surprised to see the wet spot forming right where her cock was going to go. She pulled the panties to the side and ran a thin finger between the wet folds again before releasing the appendage in her jeans. She unbuttoned them, and it flung out which caught Zoey’s attention with wide curious eyes.

With a small chuckle, the purple haired woman slid her fingers in again, collecting some of her reward and drenching the tip of her cock with it. She rubbed it around, groaning slightly to herself before sliding through Zoey’s entrance. Rumi pulled Zoey into her chest to muffle her moans as they were nearing the penthouse suite. Just a few more floors to go, so Rumi had to execute this hastily. In the shuddering ascent, Zoey allowed herself to drown in everything: the taste of iron on Rumi’s knuckles where she hadn’t cleaned them properly, the way her own thighs trembled with every thrust of Rumi’s hips.

“You don’t just like this,” corrected Rumi as she took her hand and fisted it through Zoey’s dark hair and pulled her even closer. “You need it. It was the blood, and the way they beg for their lives that made you come.” The accusation punctured Zoey’s chest almost as much the way Rumi’s hips thrusted against her, sheathing the cock entirely to the hilt inside Zoey. Rumi smirked to herself, feeling Zoey clenching around her as she moved, trying to find a steady rhythm.

“Say it,” demanded Rumi as she fucked Zoey harder and faster, her fingers tightening in Zoey’s hair. “Say you’re grateful.”

Zoey’s moans shifted into more laughter, maniacally full of hunger. “Fuck–,” she slurred and knocked her forehead against against Rumi’s collarbone. The elevator began to slow, and eventually a chime dinged above them but Zoey had enough strength to shove a hand against the "close doors" button on the elevator panel long enough for her to finish. “Fuck. I’m …. “ the confession dissolved quickly into another set of moans.

When Zoey’s orgasm came, it hit her like a ton of bricks. She clawed her way into Rumi’s backside, making score marks down her arms that matched Rumi's patterns as she whined and fell apart all at once. She laid there against the smudged mirrors and moaned softly when Rumi pulled out and zipped it back up into her jeans. “That’s all I needed to know,” said Rumi as she took Zoey’s chin between her finger and thumb and kissed her.

Rumi didn’t even register the doors sliding open and Mira stood there with her arms draped around her chest with that disgruntled look on her face. She cleared her throat so loud that it startled both of them, Zoey especially as she gathered up her pants and tried to get them back on with her underwear. Rumi grinned to herself as she watched Zoey slip past Mira to head to the bathroom to take care of herself there. She didn't want to be in Mira’s way right now.

“Fun night?” Mira asked as Rumi stepped inside, brushing past the taller girl to the kitchen. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Always,” said Rumi with a chuckle as she took out three mugs from the cabinet and began making coffee. She tensed only for a second when Mira entered her personal space even with that judgmental look. “Mira, you’re staring.”

“I know,” said Mira. “You’ve done it again haven’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Rumi as she placed one of the k-pods into the coffee maker and pressed the button.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Rumi. You have dry blood on your hands, and your clothes smell like smoke. You killed someone again didn’t you?” Mira leaned against the counter watching as Rumi didn’t seem to have any remorse at all on her face. She looked vacant and she turned, sighing.

“I did. I’m not pretending I didn’t. The man did strangle three women to death. He needed to be taken out, Mira.”
Mira’s fingers dug into the granite countertop, her nails scraping hard against the surface. She despised this side of herself. Hated the fact that she couldn’t argue with Rumi because she was right. That she made sense with all of it. “You’re not the fucking justice system, Rumi,” she hissed angrily. Somewhere in the background she heard Zoey turn the water on in the shower. “You don’t get to decide who lives or dies.”

Rumi stirred her coffee watching the steam curl lazily toward her nostrils. She inhaled deeply at the scent before turning to look at Mira’s clenched jaw. “Neither do they. Their justice system let them walk free after six months for a murder charge. Mine didn’t.” Nonchalantly, she took a sip of her coffee, her gaze flickering down the hallway to the bathroom, hearing Zoey’s voice fill the shower. She turned back to Mira with a smile. “You’re not angry because I killed him. You’re angry because Zoey gets off on it.”

That sent a shockwave through Mira she never felt before. She watched as Rumi walked around the kitchen to make her way over to the couch and sat down gently before flicking on the television. As she was surfing channels, her eyes flickered to Mira who was still torn apart from what she said. “Mira,” said Rumi softly. “It’s okay if you do too, you know? I mean, I’m a half-demon and we’re hunters. Nothing about us is exactly normal. You’re allowed to feel any way you want.”

Mira groaned, taking a mug and began to make her own k-pod of coffee. Something stronger than Rumis, because hell she needs it. Rumi just smiled down at her coffee, slow and knowing because hearing Mira’s complete lack of vocabulary seemed to have answered for her. She was able to get two confessions in one go tonight. Eventually, Mira joined Rumi on the couch, but this time she was far enough away to make her look uninterested as hell.

Then breaking news flashed on the screen when a news outlet came on:
“INCHEON HARBOR BUTCHER: 4 DEAD, NO WITNESSES”

“Is that what they’re calling me now?” Rumi asked, arching a brow as she leaned back into the couch and crossed a leg over the other, unbothered. She turned the volume up slightly to hear the reporter talk about the recent slayings. “Kinda sounds nice. Rolls off the tongue.” Rumi had to admit though that now that she was being showcased in the news she was going to have to be careful. Even though there were no witnesses and nobody has a clear description of her, she was going to have to think a lot more smarter now.

“Nice?” Mira asked, tilting her head to the side as she sipped her coffee. “Yeah, in that I’m-going-to-throw-up kind of way.” She sat her mug down with a soft thud against the table and she drug a hand down her face. Then noticed Rumi dropped the man's wedding ring on the table. “You’re taking trophies now? What’s next? A movie night with the old projector at the dinner table? You have some nerve, Rumi.” Zoey popped into the living room with her own mug of coffee and laid lazily on the couch beside Rumi close enough to where she began tracing small circles on her thigh.

“Oh Mira, you need to lighten up a little bit,” said Zoey as she smiled into her coffee. “It’s not like they didn’t deserve it or anything. Besides, I think it’s so hot.” The way she said it, low and deliberate, forced Mira to exhale through her nose. Just that interaction alone sent Zoey into a fit of giggles. My god, Zoey is dangerous when she’s like this. Mira couldn’t help but watch as the younger girl’s hand crept slowly up Rumi’s thigh until it relaxed there on her tight bulge still in her pants.

“Zoey’s right, Mira. People like that don’t stop after one bail out. They just find softer targets,” Rumi explained as she draped an arm over Zoey, feeling her wet, clean hair dangle softly around her shoulders. “It’s better to just put them down before they hurt someone else again.”

A heavy sigh escaped Mira as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. So many conflicting emotions are beginning to weigh her down to the point her chest becomes tighter. She could still smell the blood on Rumi’s sleeves and it made her stomach twist. “Demons are one thing, but we don’t get to choose who lives or dies in the human world,” she whispered that more to herself than anyone else.

Chuckling under her breath, Zoey sat her mug down and crawled over to Mira. “You say that, but your pulse is racing. You want it too.” She purred as she bit down on Mira’s earlobe just enough for it to sting. Mira breathed out, feeling this traitorous heat pool at her belly and she playfully smacked Zoey away before she could make it worse. Rumi watched with dark amusement and laughed, pulling Zoey back over to her lap.

“Besides,” said Rumi as she tilted her head like a predator, watching Mira seductively like Zoey wasn’t the only thing on the menu tonight. “You’ve already helped me dispose of the evidence a couple times before. You’re already in this with us.”

Chapter 3: Those Who Slay Together

Summary:

Rumi and Zoey have other ways of celebrating their anniversary. Mira is unsure about the whole thing, but is sticking around for the better rewards.

Notes:

Heavy graphic depictions of violence here.
Like, I'm going to be getting worse.

Blood. Gore. Unhinged craziness, aha.

The entire scene played out in front of Mira like a horror movie, a poorly written one at that. Instead of a five-star restaurant or perhaps a rooftop terrace dinner, she stood in a warehouse with a blank expression on her face. “Ta-daaa~!” Zoey sang out as she brushed past Mira and flipped on a switch and the room illuminated in a cosmic glow. She twirled happily, pointing to the array of colorful UV strands draped across the pipes and railings. They were pulsing in lavender and blue.

“See?” Zoey beamed, clapping her hands. “Romantic!”

Mira stared at the display in front of her. Then she really started noticing the two bodies bound to chairs, their heads hanging low, duct tape flashing silver in the fluorescent lighting. A dark, dried smear ran underneath one of them and Mira could see someone had already started with the unknown woman. “Wait, Zoey, are these two the…” Rumi asked as she stepped forward and raised the man’s head to get a better look at him. He squinted in the lighting, his muffled groans ringing in her ears.

With a little grin, Zoey nodded as she pulled out their case file she had looked up when she hijacked the police networking system. She flopped it down on the metal table near them, spreading out the sheets. “These are the two who were charged with child neglect and the fact they were leaders of a drug and child trafficking ring.” Rumi’s face twisted with disgust as she stepped forward, brushing a hand across Zoey’s waist as a little thank you. Mira let out a long held sigh, feeling her shoulders relax knowing the backstory a bit.

“Zoey,” Mira pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, come on,” said Rumi with a huff as she jerked the tied woman’s shoulders until she stirred, painfully awake. “Let her have this.”

“I would,” hissed Mira. “If we weren’t celebrating our anniversary next to…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence and just groaned inwardly at their unhealthy obsession. Mira has tried countless times to enjoy whatever it is they had in mind, but she could do without the blood for one night. She even bought a new outfit for the occasion, but Rumi was already gearing up with plastic gloves and black trash bags.

Zoey hummed to herself, observing the two sitting before them and she noticed a little twitch in the man’s eyes. “Ah, they’re not dead yet. I was hoping we could do this together, Mira. All of us! Kind of like a unity, full-circle bonding experience thing.” She stepped over to Mira, leaning closer with her breath hot on her neck. “Because those who slay together, stay together.”

Mira shook her head, waving her hands frantically. “We could have gone to a five-star restaurant,” she spat angrily. “Why does this have to be involved?”

“But the reservation I wanted was booked,” whined Zoey. She touched the tips of her index fingers together innocently. “Hey, you said you wanted something ‘intimate and memorable’.”

“I MEANT LIKE A CANDLELIGHT DINNER!” Mira snapped and she sighed. “Maybe soft music or handwritten cards. Not–,” she flung a hand up at the dangling UV lights above their heads which made Zoey’s eyes sparkle. “Crime scene chic.”

Zoey's grin softened around the edges as she fiddled with a string hanging from her blouse. “But you love symbolism, love, vengeance and justice.”

“That is… wildly reductive,” muttered Mira. “And also not true.”

Rumi stepped up in front of Mira and brushed her knuckles along her jaw. “Hey,” she whispered as she stroked her cheek. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Just let me and Zoey handle the messy part.” Mira sighed leaning into her touch.

With a warm smile, Zoey agreed with Rumi with a nod. “Yeah, we got this. We just want you to be with us and enjoy it.” She moved in between them and wrapped her arms around Mira’s waist which made the taller girl melt instantly. “The violence is just… optional participation.” She could feel her heart beating a mile a minute as Zoey made little circles in what looked like sticky blood across her collarbone. The sudden soft feeling of her fingertips made her shudder.

Rumi chuckled because she’s seen this dance before. The way Zoey’s touch completely unraveled Mira in seconds. “You’re both SO unfair,” said Mira as her eyes darted over Rumi’s shoulder to the two human bodies still waiting to be dealt with. Maybe she’ll just watch, because there’s no way she’s ever picking up a scalpel and helping even if it always did look like the other two were having fun with it.

“We know,” said Rumi as she leaned in to brush her lips against hers that shivered down Mira’s spine. “Well, after this I have reservations for that rooftop terrace that you wanted. Midnight seating. Wear your best dress.” Rumi kissed her cheek and turned to continue preparing the floor with trashbags as if it was a totally normal thing to do.

“You…” Mira blinked, feeling guilt swell inside her. “Really?”

Rumi smirked. “I’m not a monster.”

Zoey clapped and pointed with both hands to their two guests. “They are,” she said in a sure tone, skipping over to the other side of Rumi as her Shin-kal blades materialized out of thin air. Rumi smiled over at Zoey and grabbed the man’s throat with her fingers and then released him when he shook his head. Suddenly things became a little more… livelier. They were fully awake again and Mira leaned casually up against one of the furnaces near them as she watched it unfold in front of her.

“Oh, look Mira, they're awake.” Zoey cackled wildly as she took her blade and slid it gently across the arms of the woman, opening a tiny stinging cut just enough to bleed. She was a pretty blonde, definitely not Korean, and it was a shame to let such a nice specimen go to waste. “Rumi, can I touch her pleeeease?” It took everything in Zoey to not grab the woman’s breasts. The woman let out a muffled scream thanks to the duct tape that only seemed to please Zoey more.

Mira looks over at Zoey with a concerned expression. “What?” Zoey asked cutely as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Are you getting jealous, Mir-Mir?” She crouched down to the woman, wrapping her arms casually around her neck from behind. She ignored Zoey for the rest of the duration, trying to look interested in all of the tools that Rumi laid out including three different syringes filled with Pancuronium bromide, potassium chloride, and midazolam. Mira knew exactly what those were for: lethal injection – at least until after they were done playing around.

“No, Zoey. This is business only. Pleasure later,” said Rumi, giving her wink. Normally, Rumi would have used her sword for most of her slayings, but she has taken a liking to a butcher’s cleaver and a scalpel. She turned to the man first, grabbing his throat and examining him like a scientist. “You do know why you’re here right?” The man shook his head frantically, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face making his hair slick against his skin. “Ten counts of child neglect, possession of child pornographic media, drug distribution on a federal level and for fuck’s sake a trafficking ring?” Rumi asked as she let her body relax a minute so she could gather herself mentally. Rumi glances at the file Zoey was holding out to her to read. “I despise anyone who harms children or animals,” she growled as Zoey took a permanent marker and drew smiley faces on the duct tape on their mouths.

“Look, Rum-Rum, they’re happy to be here celebrating with us!”

Rumi exhaled through her nose, slow and controlled as she walked over to the table beside Mira and trailed a curious hand over the weapon choices. “You’re missing all the fun,” she whispered but Mira didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, she watched Zoey play with the two screaming at the top of their lungs knowing damn well no one was going to hear them. Rumi took the curved sickle blade in her hand and allowed its weight to balance before grabbing the syringe of midazolam.

“I’m good just watching.” Mira said flatly.

“Oh, I know,” Rumi replied as she smirked. Rumi’s response made Mira’s legs go weak, faltering only a second before she huffed loudly and straightened back up. “You’ll cave eventually, my darling.” She then walked back over to the two tied, Zoey doing her deranged things, and crouched down between them.

The woman didn’t look over, just noticed the syringe in Rumi’s hand and tears began to swell up the corners of her eyes. Zoey could sense the panic immediately and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” said Rumi as she flicked the syringe a couple times. “This is midazolam. It’s a powerful sedative that will render you unconscious for a few hours” Rumi caught the way Zoey’s pupils dilated when she saw the shine of the sickle blade in the UV light. “Then my girls and I are going to see how long it takes to carve you up before the feeling wears off. Once slice at a time, maybe you’ll realize the pain and suffering you caused for so many innocent souls.”

The woman made a groaning noise that caught Rumi’s attention. “What was that?” she asked as she pulled the duct tape back from her mouth for her to talk. “Speak,” demanded Rumi as if she was getting bored by the second. Zoey sighed, leaning against the wall beside them.

“You don’t know anything about us!” the woman said, her voice trembling. Rumi tilted her head like she always did and chuckled. “We had nothing to do with this. There’s others! Just let us go and we won't talk about this to anyone.” It didn’t seem to convince Rumi enough and Zoey merely yawned, putting a hand over her mouth. “We’re not worth the time, trust me.”

“You’re worth all the time in the world and nothing pains me more to see people selling out others for the misdeeds they’ve done. We’re finished here,” said Rumi as she plunged the syringe into the woman’s neck. She only used half a dose but it seemed to be working instantly the way the woman’s neck went limp. Zoey’s sharp grin returned when Rumi injected the man with the other half of the medication.

It only took less than twenty minutes before the two were completely out of it again. Mira was becoming anxious, watching Rumi take the point of the sickle and run it across his chest making an X pattern. “No unnecessary dramatics,” said Mira as she flipped on the stereo, hearing their new single immediately being played on repeat. Zoey grinned, placing the duct tape back across the woman’s mouth and watched how the expression on Rumi’s face twisted into something wicked. She made the first incision at the man’s throat, slicing it at the jugular which caused a pool of blood to drip to the sides.

A soft, satisfied sigh escaped Zoey as she pulled Rumi in to kiss her romantically, tasting the blood on her mouth. She licked the little spot of blood that flung up on the corner of Rumi’s mouth and smiled. “Happy anniversary, murderwives!" she said and Rumi laughed, ripping the man’s shoulder now at the meaty part of the muscle between the shoulder and neck. She watched with contentment at how the tendons split apart like she was squeezing a piece of fruit. With each thrust of her sickle, Rumi observed how the sinew pulled away from bone and msucle. It was almost poetic, but she knew if they were to make the midnight seating they would have to rush if they were going to make it.

Chapter 4: Repercussions

Summary:

After Zoey accidentally lets a victim escape, the trio presses further into the city in search for him. Rumi is constantly fighting her emotions against Zoey's impulsiveness and Mira always tries to keep the peace.

Notes:

I know it sounds messy and chaotic, but I had so much going on in my head, the ADHD brain kicked in gear. No smut in this one really... just Zoey being Zoey (which I love writing this crazy side of her). And don't worry, eventually Rumi treats Mira to a night by herself. The Rumi I write tends to show them both affection separately and together depending on mood and feelings. Also, FYI, I'm definitely not used to writing polygamous relationships. I'm learning.

---

It felt like seconds. Zoey didn’t mean for it to happen. She thought she had the knots secured. They had their backs turned for one second and the man had bolted from his seat, somehow freeing himself. The screeching of the chair is what sounded the alarm and he scrambled so quickly to get out of the warehouse. It didn’t take him long to get the door with only minor injuries. They hadn’t even started the fun part yet. For a few minutes, the entire basement was in chaos. Footsteps pounding away, a door slamming shut and UV lights flickering, Zoey felt her chest tighten.

“Goddammit, Zoey,” said Rumi, slowly turning to face her. “I thought you had him!”

“I… he slipped.” Zoey stood frozen, her chest heaving. “The knot…”

It took Rumi less than three strides across the room until she pounded a fist into the metal support beam behind the younger girl. Zoey’s bravado faltered, pressing herself back against the cool, metallic surface. “You let him run,” Rumi said, her voice low and shaking as her patterns began to burn like molten lava. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

After seeing the hurt on Zoey’s face, Mira stepped up and placed a hand on Rumi’s shoulder instinctively. “Hey.. easy. It was an accident.” Rumi dragged a hand down her face, throwing off Mira’s hand from her shoulder as she began to wear a hole in the floor, pacing back and forth. These were nothing but excuses. Something that Rumi didn’t want to hear right now.

“He knows our faces, knows who WE are, knows this place, our movements…” Her eyes were blazing gold with fury as she felt her entire body crumble like she was going to sink to the floor. They were fucking compromised. Rumi’s mind raced with every single scenario she thought was going to happen, but mostly it was the three of them lying dead somewhere. Why does her mind go straight to that? She didn’t even think through the consequences of their actions when the faces of Huntr/x become televised and painted as serial killers instead of superstars.

“I’ll fix it,” whimpered Zoey. “I’ll find him..”

“NO!” shouted Rumi as she turned to face her again. “You don’t get to fix this. This isn’t a mistake like you make when you’re writing lyrics. You don’t get to erase this and start again.”

Zoey flinched. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Rumi’s voice broke for a moment and caught the look in Zoey’s eyes. “We do this because it’s controlled. It’s final. Because no one walks away.” Zoey swallowed hard, wiping her hands on her thighs, her fingers twitching like an addict’s. Mira grabbed her wrist gently, tracing the inside of the soft skin where her pulse fluttered. After a beat, Zoey leaned into Mira twisting her shirt in her fingers, shielding her face.

A gust of wind blew through the warehouse making the entire building creak and Rumi exhaled sharply through her nose. Mira sighed, knowing that something like this was going to happen sooner or later. “We need to move. Now. He’ll call the cops or worse.”

Fury still burned in Rumi’s throat. “We burn this site. Tonight. Start packing.” She moved silently toward the table and began to methodically organize the tools into a single duffle: syringes, gloves, and the scalpel that she kept ritually sterilized. She was clinical. Everything was exact, but it was nothing compared to Zoey’s wild chaos. Mira seemed to be the only one to keep the peace, keep them all grounded but even sometimes that failed.

While Zoey retrieved the UV lights, Mira began gathering the gasoline canisters. She glanced at Zoey who was quiet, but didn’t say anything. The severity of this situation was something that she needed to comprehend quickly if they were going to rectify the problem. They had one man running and now their careers were going to be in jeopardy all because Rumi wanted to play god. Mira sloshed the fuel around the corners where the weak points of the building were, pouring lines around anything that had been flammable.

“I could find him,” said Zoey as she stuffed one of the duffles, her voice husky. “Before he talks…”

Rumi turned to her, twisting her fingers through Zoey’s hair and pulling her in aggressively. “You’re not hunting him. We don’t get to play fantasy right now.” Zoey’s lips curved slightly in the dim lighting. It was the same look she got when Rumi had pinned her down, and Mira drug her nails down her back. She was reckless, hungry. Rumi and Mira both saw her expression, especially when the first flame caught and licked up the side of the building in seconds. Zoey’s eyes widened as Rumi grabbed her wrist hard enough to bruise.

Slinging the duffle over her shoulder, Rumi dragged Zoey behind her and shoved Mira forward before the whole building came down on them. The flames were eating the wood and metal quickly, burning up any evidence that was left behind. They stopped at the mouth of an alleyway before it connected to Seoul's underbelly. Rumi turned over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the building engulfed in flames.

They made their way through the catacombs of the aging sewer system. Rumi walked ahead of them as a vast quiet fell on their ears. Nothing but the drips of water and scuffling of their boots against wet stone. “Eyes forward,” said Mira as she pushed Zoey lightly. Rumi didn’t speak, she didn’t need to. The weight of everything pressed on all three of them. Maybe he doubled back? Perhaps they could catch him in the dark alleys before this really did some damage.

Mira saw how rigid Rumi’s shoulders were up ahead. She cut through the shadows like a blade, disappearing out of sight. “Zoey,” whispered Mira. “This is a good time to practice self-control.”

“Self-control?” Zoey whispered back with a laugh. “Where's the fun in that?”

The taller girl caught her wrist again. “This isn’t a joke.” The warmth between them became ice cold and Zoey sobered a little, glancing down the tunnel to where Rumi went silently around a bend. “Rumi isn’t playing right now. She’s hunting.” Mira explained with a soft sight. Their echoes bounced off the wall softly.

“I can feel it,” said Zoey.

“You caused it,” replied Mira sternly. Zoey sucked in a sharp breath and glanced away. Mira wasn’t being cruel, she was being brutally honest with her words. “If you continue to push her like this, she’ll shut you out. No more pushing, no more taunting. Follow Rumi’s lead and keep your impulses in check, okay?”

Zoey’s lips trembled when Mira cupped her face. “I know,” she said, her voice thick with regret. “I just… she’s so controlled. I want to see if I can make her lose it.” Mira leaned down to kiss her, and pulled her into an embrace with a sigh.

“You don’t need to make her snap to get her attention. She already notices you. More than you think.” She lightly brushed a thumb over Zoey’s cheekbone, seeing a small sincere smile appear on Zoey’s face. Mira’s voice was much softer. “Just ease up. Let her come to you. We’ll fix this mess together like we always do.”

When they caught up with Rumi, she was already waiting at the mouth of an alley that cut into another. She looked up and over at them, pushing herself off the streetlamp. She never spoke a word, only beckoned them further into the tunnel that crossed underground. In the dead of silence, Rumi stopped and raised a hand. She crouched down, noticing bare footprints cutting through the grime. Was this him? Or is this one of the homeless people in the underground encampants?

“Gotcha,” said Rumi as she stood up. She knew this was him because she remembers Zoey taking his shoes off earlier in the night for literal kicks. “Keep quiet, sounds echo off the walls. We might be able to hear him nearby.” The trio became quiet, pressing up against the brick wall and listened. The distant sounds above ground rumbled through cement and metal. Then just in the darkness up ahead, chattering. A frantic, almost desperate voice near the stairwell that led up into the city caught their attention. Rumi placed a finger to her lips as she inched forward.

But then Zoey lunged forward, brushing past Rumi. “Zoey!” Rumi hissed, but she was gone out of sight, then a struggle followed. It sounded like the two were grappling against the ground but when they rounded a corner, Rumi and Mira were stunned to see Zoey straddling their current victim, her hands twisting in his hair and pulling his head down to present the man’s neck. Her weapon materialized and she placed it up against his throat, just enough for blood to trickle.

While the man screamed, Mira came around to pull him close to muffle his voice and Rumi jerked Zoey back away. She had slammed her aggressively back against the brick wall with an arm against Zoey’s throat. “Stop it!” Rumi growled. “We do this quickly. This isn’t the time to be messing around. I told you there’s repercussions.” Zoey smiled as her hands reached up to place them on Rumi’s arms, but she didn’t budge from her spot. Blood dripped down her chin, and she licked the corner of her lips as she shrugged her shoulders.

“I was just helping,” she said as Rumi finally released her, allowing her to slump back against the rough surface. Zoey chuckled, wiping the rest of the blood from her chin with the back of her hand. “I thought you liked it messy.”

Rumi’s pulse jumped when she spoke and her jaw clenched, and Mira stood there with her arms holding the man’s body who had gone limp and passed out. Her face was pale and body covered in sweat and grime. “Let's GO. Now,” said Mira. Zoey glanced at Rumi, knowing her spark all too well even if she was in her crosshairs right now.

“Next time, you follow me,” said Rumi. She looked at Mira and nodded, taking the body and twisting the man’s neck until a clear, loud popping sound was heard. Zoey’s eyes raised, imagining the tendons stretching and pulling apart from each other.

“Or what?” Zoey asked like it was a challenge as she watched with interest as Rumi’s muscles clenched whenever she worked quickly. There was that devious smile again Mira noticed. She gave Zoey a knowing look that meant ‘don’t do it. Don’t test her’. “You’ll punish me?”

Rumi stopped, dropping the body with a wet thud, recoiling as if she had been burned. Mira, as always, didn’t get involved. All she did was do her part to the best of her abilities, rolling the heavy carcass into the water channel beside them and dusting her hands clean. This was as quick as they were going to get it. Hopefully the body quickly flows down into the underground septic tanks and dissolves before any maintenance catches a whiff of it.

Back at the penthouse suite, Mira fell onto the couch and leaned her head back with a soft groan. “Can we please not have things get that close again? That was nerve-racking as hell. I don’t like it.” Rumi and Zoey stepped in quietly, neither of them talking much to the other. Zoey sat down at the counter near the kitchen and Rumi laid opposite of Mira, her head falling quietly into her lap. Mira paused for a moment and glanced down at Rumi who remained silent as her eyes hovered around Zoey.

Here we go again. Now they're not speaking to each other. At this point, Mira thought dealing with two wives arguing with each other had honestly been more difficult than getting rid of a body.