You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Die

[shadejak]

It was Christmas Eve in New York, and while it twas the season, things were far from merry.

Times were not as they were, now it seemed people fought more then ever, for reasons other then getting the last latest console available at the department stores or reservations for dinner, but rather it seemed there were those who still embraced this time of year and others who sought to do away with it altogether, in a manner not unlike a certain green menace who was neither Hulk nor Skrull, though some would think they came from another planet.

It was these foul creatures that a mother and her son had found themselves cornered by, with their consistantly smug demeanors as they derided the two with contempt.

"You realize everything about that toy perpetuates a systemic oppression? You, by definition, kid, owe a lot of people an apology!" one male college kid snapped in the child's face in a prissy tone.

"Instead of indulging in your white privilege, you could have donated all the money you spend buying gifts for some entitled scum like your kid on movements that seek social change in this season!" another, presumably a woman, with half her hair shaved off and glasses that seemed to take the top half of her face, though the little boy was more put off by all the metal studs on the lower half.

"Typical white families making EVERYTHING about them! Honestly, we need this holiday changed!" another college kid said, getting in the face of the mother's son as well with a mocking sneer.

"Leave my son alone!" the mother protested, coming between them.

"We're trying to educate him on his unconscious biases, you apologist bitch!" the female harasser snapped angrily, shoving the mother back. "There's no war on Christmas we're just fixing it to what it should be!"

"Mommy!" the boy cried out, running to his mother's side.

The loud, sickening crack was heard and the female college kid suddenly fell to the pavement, blood spattering from a deep engraving where she appeared to have been struck by... coal?

The others looked over in horror at their fallen, and likely deceased companion and stepped away, terror having replaced their once smug faces as they looked past the woman and child at the sound of a thump in the nearby alley.

A figure in a long, fur-trimmed hooded coat suddenly landed behind the mother and her kid, toting a sack in its left hand. As it stepped forward, the large horns atop the hood became evident as the figure gave out a sinister chuckle and stepped into the light.

"Ho ho ho," the figure said, his voice low and dangerous as it then devolved into a wicked chuckle, intense blue eyes and a toothy smile on its face, the faintest hint of a white target pattern printed across its forehead under the hood.

"Wh-whoa... s-stay back! D-don't hurt us!" one of the college kids pleaded, holding his hands up. The figure let out a cackle as he set his sack down with a crunch in the snow, and in a blur of motion, his hand flew, the frightened mother covered her son's face as the college boy's body jerked as another sickening crack was heard, blood exploding from his forehead as he fell back, his remaining companion noticing another chunk of coal had found its mark. The figure was already sliding his white gloved hand into the sack again. Without the strength in numbers that made his type feel strong, the remaining college kid tried to flee, only for a chain to shoot out, wrapping around his waist and snapping him backward to the ground, cracking his skull on the curb from the impact.

The mother attempted to quietly sneak her child and herself away when the figure sharply turned as he removed the chain and slid it back into his bag and began to approach, the boy and his mother trembled in terror as the figure approached, reaching into his bag again but this time taking out a toy, one that had been all the rage to the point price scalps had been going around online, and handing it to the boy, his wide grin and intense gaze unchanging.

"Ya been a good boy, kid!" he said, his sneer betraying his jovial tone as he let out another chuckle as he glanced back at the three corpses before dashing off and disappearing into the alley. The boy looked unsure of his new gift, his mother looked ready to faint at what she'd just witnessed.

Once he'd made some distance and found a rooftop, the figure slid off his horned hood, the horns glued into it sliding off with it. Bullseye flexed his fingers. That'd been fun while it lasted, but that was merely the warmup. The cops would be there, the news would have it, set the right mood for his true destination, some upper-class manor on loan to the mayor's kid that bragged about its message on her social media that could do for a visit from someone who was looking to get a good kill count for the evening and give 'em a friendly reminder of the season. Two birds, one stone...

[shadejak]

Part 2

Later That Night...

Being the New York Mayor's daughter, Samantha, or "Sam" to her friends, had it all. Great looks, a circle of friends whose roles and reasons ranged from meeting at Columbia University to virtue points. Some of them people wondered why she even had them around, others gathered it was from the Liberal Arts courses she'd taken as her dad's money probably guaranteed she wouldn't even need a real career in her life, making her a rich brat like the others in her circle who had taken on various social media trends and gripe about first-world problems rather then use their upper-middle class lives to do anything meaningful.

It was that evening the group was having a get-together at Sam's father's manor, which he'd allowed her and her friends to have to themselves that evening. No doubt the next day the servents would be doing everything in their power to get the smell of weed out of the place by the time they were done with it.

By the time the night was over, though, there'd be far more for them to attend to, but it all started with this gathering. Sam had dressed stylishly with her favorite cardigan and flattering skirt, and her long almost auburn blond hair down her shoulders ofsetting her brown eyes. Compared to the others, she looked so pure, many thought so till she'd open her mouth and speak, trying to sound like she knew about serious issues in the world and sought to bring awareness when coming from a young woman of her position it tended to ring hollow. Perhaps she was pure, in a hopelessly naive and sheltered way, the one watching her through the binoculars noted.

The others present were some weedy boy who looked like someone photoshopped a 20-year-old's head on a 12-year-old's body called Stevie. His nasal, effeminate voice made him sound as milquetoast as he looked with his unkempt scruff that more resembled the back end of some animal then any sort of real sign of masculinity and his tangled man-bun only cemented it. He was currently on another joint as he parroted Sam's assertions of how the superhero groups needed to be more mindful of its female members and give them more recognition, while constantly eyeballing Sam's chest when he thought she wasn't looking.

Another was Donnie, who was average at best by Sam's examination but only because Stevie was around to make him look positively macho by comparison, that may have been the only reason Donnie ever associated with him, but he was hardly the type to earn her notice either as he was no less of a tryhard who'd attempt to impress any girl within range of his voice with his hashtags and social media posts about needing more minority representation in the Avengers and the claim of how none of the active ones didn't have their race in their name. Of course, being part of a fraternity had more to do with why he got laid then any of the talking points he gave.

There was Wally, who was the yuppie type who actually did keep himself in great shape and got in thanks to his parents' money. He was handsome, fit, wealthy, and willing to listen to any post-modernist jargon Sam or other girls at school would go on about if it got him laid this week. Sam had been hoping to seal the deal with him, at least.

Then there was Ashley, who was a member of the "CUWOC Movement", something which Sam was told she was not allowed to be a member of but could certainly support and donate to(the latter of which Ashley often would guilt trip her into doing assuring her it would clear her conscience every time). She was glued to her phone that was almost never used for calls and more for her virtual soapbox she used at every opportunity having accounts on every social media platform out there, it seemed. She had Donnie's eye.

Last was Jody, who in between bites of the muffin she pulled out of her backpack stated for the eighth time her new research that her own college movement spent many of her parents' dollars to make the villain known as the Blob out to be a victim who could also give the X-Men whom she criticized for being hypocritical in their message for their idealized body types that she considered deeply offensive to "bigger" people like herself because she could not identify with them unlike Frederick, who had yet to return her mail whenever he was in prison.

Sam sometimes wondered why she was friends with most of these people, sometimes wondering if they'd turn on her at any time, but they shared similar views so maybe that was all that mattered and ensured they wouldn't.

The one watching the group wondered as well. From the looks of it, they were putting on that new horror flick Krampus. It made him grin, this night was getting more fun even before it started. He'd already circled the manor a few times, checking each window, each way out, studying his prey and where and when would be perfect times to strike. He'd jammed each lock to ensure none would escape him, but his way in was going to be a little more... traditional. Pulling the fur-trimmed hood of his now snow-speckled ankle-length coat over his head and taking up the sack of goodies he'd brought, he scaled the side of the manor and up the large chimney. After his little warmup in the city proper, he was itching to get this show started in the next half hour and give this millennial trash their "gifts".

First thing's first...

"Damn, the snow's getting bad!" Donnie remarked as he looked up from his phone then at the movie, it was certainly true on both accounts.

Stevie nearly jumped out of his spot on the couch, dropping his joint when a loud crash was heard downstairs as the film itself had already gotten dark with Jody saying the two daughters were a "missed opportunity" and Ashley bragging about the mall santa her friends had already harassed and wondering why she'd not heard back from them yet, Stevie agreeing with everything they said till the commentary came to halt at the sound.

"What the hell?!" Wally asked from the master bedroom where he was on the verge of adding the Mayor's daughter to his list of conquests and ending the time he'd have to spend with the sideshow that she for some reason surrounded herself with.

"It sounded like it came downstairs," Sam mused aloud.

"Did your dad send us a surprise Santa because I could go on for hours about how problematic all of today's concept of him is?" Ashley yelled from the room where the movie was being watched.

Wally looked at Sam for answers, but she looked just as confused as she could in the now darkened room as she reached for the lamp and flicked it on, hurriedly getting her top back on.

"Well, Donnie, you gonna go check it out, or what?" Ashley asked, looking at Donnie very expectantly. Realizing he'd only get an earful if he objected, the boy got up and made his way downstairs to where the noise had been heard, the manor was quite large so it had taken a while. There didn't seem to be any sign of life down there, most of the lights still off. He couldn't shake off the feeling he was being watched, even though the snowstorm outside beating against the wind chimes provided the only sound, now.

Wait, since when was the fireplace lit?

A creak was heard behind him and he turned, his face froze with terror at what he saw.

Before him was a tall, muscular figure, draped in an ankle-length coat with a fur-trimmed hood, covered in snow and soot. More notable, however, was the long, curved horns on the top of the hood. He noted the figure's white leather boots, belt and gloves that were more visible under the coat, and that horrible sneer on the face under the hood. Was it a man? No man he'd ever seen had ever grinned like that, there was a gleam in the figure's eyes under the hood, a gleam that knew no remorse, that emphasized the grin. Man, or something else, it thirsted for blood and he was next.

The figure was holding a worn sack in one hand, tossing something shiny up and down in the other, Donnie barely had the chance to notice the living room's Christmas tree was missing something before he felt something embed itself into his forehead. His consciousness fading, blood running down his face as his hand trembled towards an aluminum star topper that was now in his forehead before his life left him, toppling backward in such a manner his head managed to land neatly in the active fireplace where the eager flames began to lick at his still warm flesh.

Satisfied, the figure lifted up his sack and made his way to the hallway where the stairs were, snow and soot shaking off his boots with each step, the sack thumping behind him.

"Donnie?! What the hell's going on down there? HEY!" Ashley's voice demanded from upstairs, the figure's grin spread, if that were possible with how wide it already was.

-

Back in the viewing room, Ashley let out an annoyed sigh. "He playing games, now? Stevie, go check on him!" she snapped.

"What about Jody? Why not send her?"

"It's THEM, now, Stevie!" Jody snapped, red-faced and indignantly while finishing a muffin. "How many times do I have to say it?!"

"Oh, my bad!" Stevie apologized submissively, looking between the large girl and his joint, realizing he wasn't going to win this any more then Donnie was if he didn't want to offend anyone else present. He got up, joint in hand as he left the room. Maybe find an excuse to pretend to check on Wally and Sam, it made him so frustrated Wally had gotten her attention when he'd been trying to score her since classes started. Couldn't she see what a good ally he was?

Soon as he was gone, Ashley scowled at her phone. "Great, left my charger. I had a good tweet going too!"

"Want me to get it?" Jody asked. "Honestly, though, why does Sam get lucky? Men demand too much out of us!"

"Preach," Ashley said. "It should be on the nightstand in my room."

Jody picked up another muffin and proceeded to leave the room as well, heading into the bedroom she and Ashley were assigned. Like hell would she have accepted if the boys were staying thankfully and grabbing up the cord before returning to the hall, only to run into Sam and Wally.

"What the hell?!" Jody demanded.

"Where's Donnie?" Sam asked.

"Probably downstairs. Sounds like he's trying to prank us. Really, I mean? Lousy way to have a shot with Ashley, that's for sure!" Jody snapped, "Stevie went to check."

"That stringbean? At least he'll scream real good if he is," Wally remarked.

Jody's wide face suddenly gained a look of fear as her eyes widened behind her large glasses, not at Wally or Sam, but something behind them, prompting the three to turn.

There stood the horned, hooded figure in the long coat, a sack next to him. Jody relaxed a little.

"Donnie? Is that you? Honestly!" Jody protested, shoving past Sam and Wally and storming towards the figure. "Thought you could get us with some kinda Krampus stuff? We're here to protest the holiday not celebrate it!"

The figure raised one hand forward, placing a white palm on Jody's chubby face and giving a forceful shove, sending her tumbling on her back with a loud thud, letting out a low chuckle as he raised the sack, slamming it down hard on her prone form for good measure.

"HEY!" Sam cried out, before noticing that whoever it was, this person was way too tall and muscular to be Donnie.

"What the f**k?!" Wally protested as the figure slammed the sack down hard on Jody again, flawless aim as it struck her face hard and shattered her glasses. Jody cried out, trying to crawl away as the figure leaned down and reached into his sack as he took out a fist-sized chunk of coal, looking it over. Wally pulled Sam away, Jody trying to get to them despite the abuse she'd endured from two well-placed blows from whatever was inside the robed figure's sack, moaning from the shards of glass from her broken lenses had clearly dug themselves into her eyes from the beating. She didn't get further as suddenly chunk of coal embedded itself into the back of her head, blood pooling down her frizzy hair as she toppled forward to the ground.

"What is going--?!" Ashley began, sticking her head out the door, her eyes widening in shock as her phone fell from her hand, causing the hooded figure to turn just long enough for Wally to bum-rush him, knocking him to the floor.

"THE f**k ARE Y--!" Wally shouted, before his eyes widened.

The hood slid back, and no one fled. They were all too paralyzed with terror at what they saw. They all recognized who this was when the white target emblem on the forehead of his cowl had become visible, that had come to pay them a visit, his name had been all over the news, after all.

Bullseye grinned, letting out a sneer at the boy who had knocked him down before bringing his knee up and kicking him off as if he were nothing.

"RUN!" Wally shouted, balling his fists as he tried to engage the assassin while the girls immediately fled. Wally swung at Bullseye, who dodged with ease, his grin never wavering as his ice blue gaze remained fixed on him.

"C'mon kiddy! Ya feelin' all cocky a second ago! Lay one on me!" Bullseye said with a laugh, easily catching another swing with his hand as if this were a joke, and to Bullseye, it was. He may as well have been fighting a kindergartener.

Wally finally managed one, right in Bullseye's jaw, the assassin's head jerked to the side, Wally screamed out in pain and nursed his hand, what was this guy's jaw made of?! Bullseye turned his head back to face him, grin still in place. "Merry Christmas, kiddy!" he said chuckling again making it perfectly clear the hit was free and had no effect on someone who regularly traded blows with Daredevil and the boy's courage and stance deflated like a balloon and he began to back away. Bullseye shook his head. f**k**g yuppie boys, losing all their bravado soon as they know they had no shot. He wasn't a fan of such cowardice. Before Wally even saw it, Bullseye's hand moved and he felt like he'd received a haymaker, causing him to stagger back as he looked down at a toy airplane now embedded in his stomach. Bullseye reached into the sack again as the boy struggled to regain his breath, juggling three black lumps of coal in his hands as he grinned.

Whoosh! One straight between Wally's legs. The boy gasped, a pitiful, high-pitched whine escaped him as he fell to his knees.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Two more struck the boy, blood spattered from his forehead as he was double-tapped by the lumps of coal caving his skull as his bloody corpse fell next to Jody's.

Cracking his neck as he admired his work, Bullseye gave his coat a firm tug, pulling his hood back on, and lifted up the sack to resume the hunt. These kids now knew who was after them, but there was no way out.

"Ya better watch out!" Bullseye shouted loudly with a laugh, giving his remaining prey a little hint of who won the fight if they could still hear him.

-

Sam couldn't stop shaking. She'd just seen one of her friends murdered right in front of her eyes, by a hitman whose name everyone in New York City had surely heard of. Why he was this far from Hell's Kitchen she didn't know, why he'd singled her and her friends out she also didn't know, but she was absolutely terrified, now, even moreso when they found Donnie's barely recognizeable corpse downstairs, his entire head charred completely to the bone in the fireplace with a star ornament embedded into it. Where the hell was Stevie? Did Bullseye kill him, too, when he went downstairs?

"This isn't right!" Ashley protested, struggling with a jammed door. "Who does he think he is? Shouldn't that prick be going after Daredevil?!"

"YA BETTER WATCH OUT!" Bullseye's accented voice shouted from somewhere in the house, followed by a mocking cackle. Clearly he wanted the two to know he was finished with Wally.

Loud footsteps thumped upstairs, though distant as it was the third floor.

"My god, he's coming!" Sam cried out, pulling Ashley away to find another way out. This place had plenty of stairways and halls and rooms, she'd been here before as a kid, she was probably one of the only people who couldn't get lost here but who knew where Bullseye could turn up...

They heard a sound from a nearby door as they found themselves in the kitchen, Ashley backed away behind Sam, causing the other girl to look at the normally brash girl incredulously as she grabbed a knife from a drawer, taking a breath as the door opened and Stevie emerged.

"STEVIE?!" Ashley gasped out.

"Donnie! Someone got him, man! His whole face, I mean..." the boy sobbed. "I ran and hid I didn't want to be next!"

Ashley shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"It's Bullseye, he's here, he killed Donnie, he also killed Jody and probably Wally!" Sam explained.

"B-Bullseye? You mean Daredevil's Bullseye? The hitman Bullseye?!" Stevie stammered.

"We need to find a way out, he's jammed every door we can find!" Sam explained. "There's a bunch of rooms around here but we gotta hurry!"

Sam's phone suddenly chimed, she looked and saw that it was Ashley's phone calling her. Ashley's eyes widened in terror as she looked past Sam, Stevie panicking, now as well as Bullseye, horned hood back in place, stood in the doorframe of the kitchen, now.

Before anyone could react, Bullseye's arm flew, Ashley's cellphone struck her in the neck, causing her to gag and cough, struggling to stand as Bullseye approached, a wide grin on his face as he snatched several knives from their stand on one of the counters and flung them. Stevie screamed and ran down a hallway.

"STEVE, GODDAMNIT!" Sam cried out, turning back in time to see Ashley's twitching body fall to the floor, no less then nine blades now embedded in her face and chest, blood spattering on Sam. The girl let out a scream and ran down another hall, slamming the door behind her and locking it, then through the next room's door and doing the same as she continued to flee.

Stevie ran as fast as he could, away from the madman in the horned coat, that twisted grin burned into his mind as he tried to find a way out, only to be greeted by a study with only barred windows. Whimpering loudly, he tried to grab something to break one, but to no avail as he heard footsteps. He looked for something, maybe could get the drop on the hitman and be the hero Sam wanted! His fantasies quelled his fear only briefly when soon Bullseye, with his horned coat, stood at the door frame. The boy shrieked as the robed man suddenly let his hand fly and a chain was suddenly around him, yanking him to the floor hard, any thought of defending himself was gone. "Please! Don't kill me! Don't kill me!" he cried, his skinny frame struggling against the chain.

Bullseye looked down at the pitiful excuse for a twig-boy crumpled before him pleading for mercy and his grin faded to a scowl of disgust.

BANG! Bullseye holstered his smoking silver Mauser and walked off without another word, leaving the fresh corpse now sporting a fresh, gaping hole in the forehead and a nice splatter of blood on the bookshelf behind it to finish his mission.

-

Sam struggled not to weep, she heard the faint sound of a gunshot and she knew she was alone with the feared hitman, with no escape. She crumpled into a fetal position in her hiding place, the knife offered no comfort as she knew full well what this man was capable of if he so much as got his hands on a paperclip. She was nothing. Except helpless prey, a mouse fleeing from a sadistic cat playing with its food. For the first time ever in her sheltered life, she felt truly helpless, worthless, perhaps death would be a mercy with all that had happened this terrible night...

Slowly rising, she staggered to the door of the closet, opening it and trying to move to where she knew a basement door would be... no doubt the storm door would have been jammed as well, but if she could only sneak there, and barlock the door behind her, maybe she'd survive... for whatever that was worth as the images of her friends' corpses continued to dance about in her mind like cruel, bloodstained demons.

She approached the basement door, opening it just in time to feel something strike her hard in the back, sending her tumbling down the wooden stairs with a shriek.

Bullseye smirked, glancing down at the laptop he'd just thrown now laying broken on the floor near the doorframe leading into the basement and gazed down at the girl laying at the foot of the stairs struggling to get up. Chuckling, he plucked a baseball from his sack, tossing it at the ceiling at an angle that it ricocheted off and struck her again, right where the laptop had hit her, causing her to lose all her strength and topple to the floor again as Bullseye slowly began to descend the stairs, whistling the song whose verse he'd shouted earlier as the light from upstairs silhouetted his form, making him look all the more like the fabled spirit he was imitating.

Sam barely managed to turn herself over, her body sore from the fall and Bullseye's abuse just in time to feel a sharp cut nick her cheek, nursing the cut, she turned, seeing a playing card near where she lay that showed an Ace of Spades on it, the symbol of death.

Sam didn't cry. She didn't scream. Not a whimper, or a plea for mercy. She didn't even look afraid, nor brave, far from either, just... exhausted. Tired. She didn't speak as she stared up at the nightmarish figure grinning down at her, his blue eyes gazing back as he crouched down, reaching into his sack one last time and this time seeming to be really looking for something specific, letting out a terrifying, low chuckle. Sam squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for whatever Bullseye intended to use to carry out her execution, only to feel something lightly placed on her chest, followed by retreating footsteps go past her to where the she knew the storm doors would be and opening them without any difficulty. The girl slowly opened her eyes when she was sure he was gone, noticing what he'd left her.

A single brass sleigh bell.

A reminder of what he could have done if he'd wanted to. No one survived Bullseye unless he wanted them to. But why, Sam's mind raced, would he want to spare her after so ruthlessly slaughtering her friends?

She noticed on a small piece of paper tied to the bell, was a small red devil.