Warning: blood and murder :)

P E A C H M C C O Y — T H E H A C K E R

Britney Spears can't block out the sound of screams.

My body shook, my mind crumbled. I was worried for Viktor. That man had a death wish. That beautiful, caring and wonderful piece of ass was down there fighting for his life and mine while I was hiding behind a crate, cuddling with my gun.

I had to get down there and help him.

But I'd also kind of promised to stay put.

My heart and my mind were at war. Save him, but that meant going against his wishes. Stay put, but that meant risking his death. Viktor Makarovich could not die on me. I cared for him. Yet another man had weaseled their way into my life and found reason for me to care for them and do my best to see them alive and well. That's when a particularly horrific male scream cut through my chorus of Toxic, I opened my eyes and stood up.

Screw it, I was saving the Russian.

But getting to the end of the rail and looking down, I realised he didn't need my help.

My brain couldn't comprehend it at first. There was so much red. On the floor, on the crates, on him and yet he stood and moved as lithe as an animal born to hunt. He seemed as crazed as one too as his muscled inked arms swung in wide arcs, holding a red axe. I recognized the weapon because we'd passed it on our way up here. It didn't seen deadly then but in his grasp, it held the same will as death itself.

Viktor had this crazed and detached demeanor. A side of his blond hair was slick with blood and the red substance run down his bulletproof vest and the shirt underneath. He wasn't the same man who'd treated me like glass. I was looking at someone different, someone scary beyond what I could've imagined and the worst part...

This person, whoever he was, enjoyed the bloodshed.

Viktor was a hedonistic serial killer. I didn't know the cold terror that can wash through you when you see a person who seeks thrills and derives pleasure from killing like he was obviously doing. For all the men that came for us through the door, two remained standing but not for long. Viktor swung and spun the axe like it was just an extension of himself but it was at the moment when he sunk the heavy object into the last man's skull, cracking the helmet on his head that I gasped and put my hand over my mouth.

The strength in that blow caused three sounds to ring out in the now gravely silent warehouse. The first was the disgusting squish as the axe landed home in the man's cranium. The next was the sloppy noise of metal on bone as Viktor yanked it out, breathing heavy. And the last was the whimper I couldn't suppress behind my hand.

Viktor heard the last one and looked up at me. I didn't want to see the look in his eye so I backed up from the rail. In my state of terror and shock, my back hit a crate and I could't find it in me to move.

He just killed like.... like...

I shivered but there was a tingling sensation in the back of my head. A name. A mass murder. A case that could fit with this one. Bodies killed in the same fashion flashed before my eyes but they were on a screen. My laptop screen. It was a news report. They had been thugs then, drug traffickers but it was all the same.

"Peach?"

His voice was guttural when he spoke, filled with so many different emotions I couldn't pin one down. Sadness, anger, regret, shame, guilt, betrayal.... all negative, all directed to me. Viktor was right there, standing ahead with that axe in hand. I eyes it and a tear slipped from my cheek.

"You're the Butcher," I said softly, my voice not strong enough to keep it breaking at the end.

I wanted to hug myself, wrap my arms around my waist and bend to vomit but I couldn't. My stomach was mostly empty and though it churned like the acid within it was a wave in the ocean, I held whatever came up down.

The Butcher wasn't a stranger to me. He was the boogeyman himself. His kills were close to fifty-seven slaughters and that was only by what the police had. A mass murderer with a fondness for weapons like machetes and apparently axes.

My mind somehow refused to make Viktor one with an unknown killer who I'd read so much about and been warned of by so many. There were days when I prayed that Peirce wouldn't get caught by his rage, cut down like a simple bush in his path. I'd feared him because my brother once let it slip that he might work with him.

It wasn't like I thought about mass murders everyday. How would i have connected the dots had I not seen what he was capable of. The axe in his hand was all I could see. The blood that stained it, thick, warm and dripping to the floor. It clattered as Viktor let it fall on the ground and the loud sound had me closing my eyes and letting out a pained moan.

Jesus Christ what had I gotten myself into?

"Peach?" Viktor called again and when i opened my eyes, I saw him get close. His body slick with the blood of others, probably his own as well. I couldn't help but push myself back into the crates to escape him.

Glancing at his face, the action hurt him but I couldn't help myself. My world had crumbled, the man I cared for was... was...

"Can we talk?" he asked and made more steps closer to me but my body begun to shake more than it ever had. I could feel my bones rattle against each other and my lungs seemed to forget how to expand.

"No," I begged while shaking my head. "No no please. Don't..."

I didn't know what I didn't want him to do but he continued to come close and we were just arm's reach of each other, the stench of death sticking to him like perfume. But it was his eyes. It was his soft baby blues and the way that they glanced at me that made my heart shatter and tears started to flow down my cheeks.

I hated this. I hated when I cried or showed any kind of weakness but for once, I didn't cry for me.

I cried for him because the way he looked at me just broke my heart. His shoulders were dropped like he already had a weight pressing down on his chest and his brows were frowned enough for me to realise that. He was broken. I could see it, Something in him snapped like the strings of a pullet being snipped.

He stepped back and unconsciously clutched his chest and I had never seen someone so... done.

He's a mass murder! my brain shouted at me. You just saw him easily go through people's lives like they didn't matter.

"Don't be afraid of me," Viktor said softly and swallowed. His eyes still remained on mine. "I can't... I..."

He searched for words to portray what he felt and failed. I could see the anger with himself, the blame, the fight, the need to do something and i was stuck. I couldn't do anything because I was shaken from what I'd seen him do but my heart told me I knew him.

It was wrong. We did not live in a world where soulmates existed. My heart could not understand the fact that knowing and caring for him in the brief time that I did meant nothing after knowing who he truly was but... somewhere deep down I knew I was just putting my fear before my understanding. My feelings were complicated but this kind of murder was unreal.

You've murdered men as well. my heart argued.

I had but this was different.

How?

How? How was it different?

For one, I didn't enjoy it. I didn't get a high from it like Viktor did. I finally understood how he'd been tricked to come after me. He loved the chase. He loved the hunt, the thrill of the kill. It got him to a high point but once he stepped down there was nothing more to his life. No more meaning.

"I can't have you scared of me," Viktor said low and I sniffled, turning my gaze from him.

"You killed all those men in cold blood. And the ones before..."

"I don't kill for selfish reasons," Viktor defended. "None of the men who've died at my hand were saints."

"And those men down there?" I asked wiping my eyes. "You didn't know them."

"Anyone who threatens your life is already dead according to my judgement." He had this serious tone in his voice. Unwavering despite his current state, still trembling from the adrenaline that had peen pushed through his bloodstream. He stepped closer. "You're important Peach. Can't you see that?"

"I do see it," I almost cried. "I see that many people want my head. They are willing to go through you to get it and—"

"You're important to me!" The warehouse went silent again at Viktor's yell. "I'm not protecting you because my doppelgänger wants you nor am I protecting you because you'd make a great asset. I'm sticking by your side because you matter to me."

The revelation surprised me a little. "You matter to me too," I whispered. "But—"

"Don!" Viktor and I were quick to separate at the shout coming from the stairs. A man with short brown hair came up to us and spoke to Viktor in Russian. He seemed unfazed by the fact that his leader was covered in blood.

"Come, we made way for you to get into a panic room," the man encouraged and with his head held high because a Don never showed weakness, Viktor followed the man down the stairs with me slightly held back in tow.

I watched Viktor's back and I reeled in all the words I needed to say to him. My shaking hadn't seized and I had to stuff my hands into my hoodie to keep them as steady as possible. The man led us to the panic room and it was a small but wide space. Many people lay about, all being tended to by those who knew how. The man with short brown hair called over a nurse and she asked Viktor to follow her out of sight, behind a makeshift hospital curtain. I managed to get a glimpse of the bed before it slowly slapped itself shut.

I stuck to the sidelines then, trying not to get into anyone's way until the nurse came over to me. She was short, plump and had a kind smile on her face. She was dressed in work attire probably among the first group of people to flee the headquarters, her light blue scrubs stained with blood.

"Hello Miss," she greeted and I smiled and nodded in response. "We are a little short staffed and everyone seems so busy so I was wondering if you'd help me with something."

I stood up and cleared my throat before speaking, dislodging the unease from my tone. "Of course. What can I do?"

"The Don isn't feeling well but his injuries are quite minor. Would you help me take care of him while I look after other patients? You did come in with him so I must assume he'd be more comfortable with you as his doctor for the day."

Wasn't that convenient.