"he's an associate of yours, you've already dragged him in for me. now, go get him. i want to talk."

damien's word echoed in phil's mind for a brief second before he charged at him, ramming his fists up in his shirt. "no, no! i'm the serial killer here, not him!" he growled, his knuckles fading to a white as damien's sinister smirk played across his lips.

"he's in my club, drinking my liquor. plus, when you're in such high ranks like yourself, you could use some assistance in the aspects that don't involve slicing a throat," he spoke, shrugging off phil's grasp. "i have a list ready, now go get him."

phil walked out of the lounge doors hesitantly, being met with a humid wave consisting of intoxicated sweat, slurred screams, and uncoordinated cologne leaking out from underneath the doors of white powder packets and sloppy hookups. he let out a sigh, his gaze finding dan's thin frame fidgeting on the bar stool, that same filthy long-haired, brunette sat beside him.

"ah lester, how are you these days?" he greeted upon meeting phil's cold gaze. "logan," the ebony-haired killer nodded in acknowledgement, quickly turning towards dan. "i uh, you need to come to the back with me," he stammered, assisting dan as he drunkenly stumbled off the stool. "have fun!" logan called, earning a angry glare to glint across phil's blue pupils.

"just couldn't help yourself, could you?" phil muttered bitterly, regarding the cherry vodka radiating off dan's stinging, glossy-outlined lips and nearly-unconscious gait.

his eyes were glossy and tinged with red and his fingers trembling with a combination of alcohol and nerves. phil noticed the brunette's unruly hair start to unravel into little chocolate curls from the amount of humidity and sweat radiating around the room.

"ah. he's had quite a bit to drink, has he?" damien remarked as a nearly-unconscious dan was set upon the couch; phil tensely sat beside him. "we can't possibly do business with him like this," he added dismally, propping up his leg on his knee.

"business? he's not going to work for you," phil spat distastefully, narrowing his eyes in on the elegantly-gaited man. "more so you, actually," he said, "he's going to work for you while you work for me."

"oh, is that right?" phil scowled, crossing his arms. "you both are in dire need of money, and seeing as you aren't willing to leave him, you're essentially being forced to work together. i'm not implying he has to burn hirings at the stake, but work as a bit of, lets say, insurance," damien explained. phil scoffed, "insurance for what?"

"for your safety, your chances of dying from a gunshot wound are slimmer if you have someone to stitch you up."

the room encompassed in a silence of contemplation until the sounds of footsteps carried through the lounge doors. phil shot up from his seat upon laying eyes on the raven-haired, wiry-figured man, a wide smile across his face. "patrick!" he grinned, walking towards the man and enveloping him in a hug.

the man started to move his hands around as phil responded with more hand motions, and it took dan a moment before he realized they were using sign language. phil laughed at something patrick had sighed as they both shuffled towards dan and damien. "dan, this is patrick," phil introduced, and dan sent a small, intoxicated wave.

patrick turned to damien, signing a message that caused his expression to rapidly fade to grim. "fuck. tell him to uh, just tell him to wait, i'll uh, i'll take care of him once i'm done here," he stammered, rubbing his eyes frustratedly. patrick hesitantly nodded, quickly returning to the heat of the club.

"damien the crime lord," phil scoffed in mock astonishment. "getting nervous?"

damien sent a if looks could kill glare towards the murderer in front of him, shrugging off his nerves. "no, no. i-i'm not nervous. i just..." he trailed off. "nevermind, it's nothing. is it a deal then?"

phil grudgingly nodded, snatching the list of names from damien's grasp. "well then, you know the drill. when you're ready to collect, come on by. and uh, susan's out front. patrick'll be out there in a few minutes, and there's an untraceable phone in the glovebox," damien explained, straightening his suit as he stood up.

"goodbye, philip," he nodded, shaking phil's hand before suddenly nearing him. "oh, and you do know where you'll have to go after this," he whispered, before smirking and swiftly exiting the room without another word.

"jesus christ," phil muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "you're the one who brought us here. were you just planning on going on killing sprees each night without saying anything?" dan mumbled, stumbling to stand up.

"lets just go," phil grumbled, wrapping his fingers around dan's hand and leading out of the club, where a 1976 cadillac eldorado lie parked beside patrick. "shit," dan grinned, hopping inside the car and skimming his fingers along the interior. "this," phil said, getting in the driver's seat with the keys swinging around his index finger. "is susan. she's been with me since the day i first met damien."

"hm," dan nodded, "where're we going?"

"all my equipment is, uh, is at chris's," he answered hesitantly, sighing as he spoke. "equipment?" dan repeated quietly, gulping. "guns, knives, etcetera etcetera," phil trailed off dismally.

"how have the police not found any of this somehow? and how have you not been caught?" dan inquired, questioning the likeliness of never once being caught. phil cruelly laughed.

"do not underestimate me, howell. i am one of the best serial killers in london, and damien is fucking loaded, london crime is completely controlled by him. he has nearly half the police force turning a blind eye towards his dealings, me, and other hired guns working with damien."

"hm," dan hummed quietly, "why is all of your shit at chris's?" phil sighed, "i just never went to get it. i never went back."

"how do normal people find you, anyways? like, how do they hire you?" dan asked, trying to get as many answers he could get out of phil.

"there are hiring bars specializing in murderer meets client meet ups. desperate people just have to ask around and they'll be directed to damien or one of his guys working for him, where they'll propose a price with a name. then, damien puts together the best jobs and hands them to me, where i carry them out. i don't have direct contact with my clients."

"what makes you so sure chris will help us?" the brunette asked, rocking slightly back and forth absentmindedly.

"what makes you so sure i am?" phil grumbled, before sharply slamming down on the breaks, causing both of their bodies to jolt forward. dan felt the car flipping and could've sworn it still was, until he opened his heavy eyes and was met with the view out of the shattered remains of a windshield, but upside down.

his head resembled a 100mph carousel and his thoughts the broken, shattered remains of the painted horses as he dizzily unlocked his seatbelt, dropping him out onto the cement. his fingertips dug into the ground as he dragged himself out of the upside down car, a sharp pain in his shoulder.

the ringing sounds of choked out retching between heavy pants could be heard from the other side, where dan was trying to reach. upon limply crawling around the car, he was met with the sight of a seizing phil; spasming with shots of vomit and delayed breathing. foam bled out from the side of his mouth, and if dan had gotten anything out of glancing at his friends's comic books as a child, it was that foam, more or less, equalled poison.

"f-fuck," he stammered, forcing himself up onto his legs and stumbling to the phone, shakily dialing pj's number with his trembling fingers. "shit, shit, shi-pj! i n-need an ambulance at," he stammered, scouring the surrounding area for road signs. "uh, fuck, o-out by that bar, fuck, uh, charlie's place."

dan hung up as pj was sending an ambulance and flung himself to phil; moving him to his side to avoid him choking. "christ," he muttered under his breath, keeping his watery eyes set on the roads in expectancy of the only thing that would save his boyfriend. "come on, come on!' dan hissed through gritted teeth.

it took what seemed like hours for the familiar sirens to be heard blazing down the streets, followed by a sleek black car that dan faintly recognized from club 505.

the moment of him being pushed back and watching phil get loaded into the car was a blurry gaze to dan, who seemed to snap back into reality upon meeting a pair of striking green eyes. it took him a moment to register the man in front of him to the man at the bar.

"logan?"

|rip susan 1

wOo okay so i want to know what you guys think of these nEw characters : damien, patrick, and logan ??|