Chapter 1: Dark and Askal

  Dark sighs, seeing an X-ray and ultrasound image of his broken spinal cord. His eyebrows furrowed ,and his lips puckered down in disgust the entire time. “There isn’t a fucking way that the lower caste fuckin’ Conyo snapped my neck…”

  “He knew you’d regenerate. I believe Beatle wanted to finish you off,” said Askal, with her eyes darting left to right, ignoring Dark.

  “Bitch, I am a fucking God compared to that bitch ass Tyanak. There ain’t no Mangkukulams or, or, or Mambabarangs or fucking Apolaki himself who tried to fuckin’ shoot me in the fuckmothering throat. A TYANAK!!! He wasn’t even that tall!” yelled Dark,

  “Jesus Christ, Dark,” said Askal. ”Could you wallow all over that cum-stained self-pity of yours in the corner? I’m trying to concentrate on my novel, you fucking cocksucker.”

  “Oh! Oh! Yeah! SURE!!! How can that fuckin’ book be more important than your brother’s depressive state right now!”

  “Dark. You’re not in a depressive state; you’re delirious because you let a boy nearly kill you. You’re having a breakdown, which is honestly fucking pathetic.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Seriously, someone make my muscles bigger in that Ultrasound image!” he yelled, pointing at the image on the wall.

  “Shut the fuck up. LITERALLY NO ONE IS-!!!”

  A doctor clears her throat outside the doorway. They seem to be staying in a normal hospital room, with only a white background from every corner. The doctor smirked, staring at both of them, scoffing upon every breath they take. “Capital of the Multiverse, and nothing’s changed. Fuck.”

  “Doctor. We free to go?” smiled Dark, raising his eyebrows thrice. “Saturday night?“

  “I find your usage of our accent quite offensive, Mister Stevenson.“ She calmly strolled into the room.

  “Bitch, please. I’m technically half Filipino! Mostly. Kinda. I mean, technically, Aswangs are a race of genetically engineered aliens who originated in the islands. Technically, y’all are the colonizers, ah, bossing?”

  Askal closes her book and slams her head in it out of annoyance.

  The doctor rolls her eyes in disgust. “No, you are not free to go, Mister Stevenson. You are going to prison. Unless…”

  Dark smiles. “What do you mean, ‘unless’?”

  “We have a task force for a black operations team and we’re two soldiers short. What we need are a couple of sociopaths. Killers. So, we’d be sending both of you to that place. Do you understand?”

  “What place?” asked Askal.

  “You two really are fuckin’ psychopaths.”

  “Quit sellin’! You already have our money, doc!” smiled Dark. “Anyway, what’s the trabaho, Doc?”