January 1, 1972

Freddie’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere.

He couldn’t see anything for miles; just the vast plains as the sun started its descent below the horizon. With the car out of commission and nothing valuable left in what he didn't own, he started to walk.

A few cars drove past him, ignoring his thumb as they sped faster than reasonable, and once the stars glittered over the darkened atmosphere, Freddie squinted at a glow in the distance. The first building he’d seen in several hours.

Against the will of his aching muscles, he hurried his way over to what appeared to be an incredibly active casino, where the gold letters reading “The Masquerade Palace” shone across the roof. Stepping out of fancy cars in fancy attire, dozens of guests bustled inside, excited to get drunk and throw their money on games.

They were all in strange costumes, everyone covering at least half their faces with masks. Their formal attire ranged from a century of decades to fantasy inspiration, and Freddie immediately felt out of place before they seemed to notice he was even there.

The chandeliers lit various poker tables circling the room, where the quiet chattering of guests followed the sounds of rolling dice and flicking lighters. The unusually purple cigarette smoke wafted past, aromatic of lavender.

Freddie ducked and blended with the crowd, despite looking like a washed-up college dropout, and immediately started searching for the restrooms. He squeezed past waiters and poker players, weaving his way past green tables, stopping once he felt someone grab his arm.

“Hello, darling,” a voice behind him greeted, which made him slowly turn his head. The woman pulling his arm wore a beautiful purple gown, and her dark hair cascaded around her like a cluster of vines. Under her intricate cat mask, her smile urged him to figure out who she was.

“Do I know you?” Freddie asked, keeping his tone more curious than accusatory.

The woman used her free hand to take a puff from a cigarette, waving it around delicately. “I’m tonight’s performer, doll. I’m on the billboard.”

Freddie backed against the wall with her as a waiter carrying wine breezed past them, and the woman’s grip pulled him closer. He glanced up at her, forcing a laugh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see the billboard- I’m just here because my car broke down.”

“You need money?”

Freddie grimaced. Like everyone else in the building, the answer was obvious, but the woman could probably tell he was more desperate than the others.

She laughed before he could answer. “I can help you get a job here, if you’d let me.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

Her gaze turned mischievous. “Kim Diamond. But as your new boss, you are only permitted to call me Boss.”

Freddie blinked. “Don't I need a background check or something-”

Kim belted out a cackle, alerting a few people around them. One of them snickered with her.

“Dolly, everyone in this building is a criminal.” Kim whispered, unable to stop giggling. She pushed her cigarette into his mouth, yanking him to the poker table to sit down.

-

Ashton pointed his sniper rifle at the casino window, targeting Kim Diamond’s forehead.

“I still don't understand why I need to kill her,” he said, keeping still as his companion crouched down on his right.

“Because she's a drug dealer.” Tony said casually. “I would know, she was my dealer.”

“Why do you want me to kill your dealer?”

“Because I wanna eat her soul.”

Ashton pulled his head away from the gun, glaring at Tony directly. “I’ve killed forty-nine men, this is the first time you’ve told me to assassinate a woman.”

“Oh, grow up, pal, any gender can commit a crime!”

“What if she's pregnant?”

Tony tapped the gun’s viewfinder with his claw. “Does she look pregnant?”

Ashton felt exhausted from the conversation already, dragging a hand down his face. He hadn't slept in three days, with the last kill still lingering in his mind. Hunting for Tony felt more like an unpaid job than a promise for a good future.

“I’ll kill her tomorrow.” Ashton decided, standing up. Tony gaped at him without moving from his spot on the dirt.

“Ash, come on-”

“I need a break.”

“Look!” Tony jumped up, scampering to block his exit. “I’m hungry, okay, how about you kill someone else then? They're all criminals! Look, you can kill the guy next to her!”

He pointed the gun at the unassuming college dropout next to Kim, waving Ashton over. “An absolute broke gambler. Easy.”

Ashton still hesitated, studying the man. “Why does he deserve it?”

“Because I am fucking hungry!” Tony snapped. “And then you’ll be on to fifty, halfway there, then boom! Fifty more and you’re done!”

They’ve had this argument dozens of times, with Tony always winning in the end, but Ashton would rather take another repeated nightmare then add a completely innocent man to his kill count. Every murder in his past consisted of men he considered scum of the Earth, with a few random suggestions from Tony concerning people who had Ashton on their hit lists.

Self-defense, one might say.

Ashton exhaled slowly. “Let’s wait until we see him do something illegal.”

-

Freddie legally wasn't allowed to be at the casino, reading the sign displayed above the door in a dozen languages: NO MINORS ALLOWED.

Kim had him dealt in after taking her cigarette back, leaning over to look at his cards and whisper behind her hand. “I’ll help you win. Poker’s easier than it looks.”

Freddie coughed smoke in his arm. “What is that?”

“A cigarette.”

The other masked guests stared at Freddie, expressions ranging from curious to the verge of laughing. One guest pitifully handed him a white bunny mask.

“You need a poker face, babe.” They said, quickly withdrawing to look at their cards.

Freddie awkwardly put the mask on, having to take his glasses off. As he tied the ribbons behind his head, Kim showed him their shared hand of cards.

-

“He’s gonna cheat, watch!” Tony pointed the gun at the cards. “He’s got a losing hand!”

“I’m not shooting someone for cheating at a card game, that's ridiculous.”

Tony wanted to bite Ashton to prove how hungry he was getting, resisting by snapping his jaws in a grimace. “Gambling is a sin. I bet you this guy is gonna cheat his way into the rich crowd, get knocked up, and learn absolutely nothing about where all of this money even started from. What if he ends up becoming a heartless billionaire? Take the goddamn shot, Ashton.”

Ashton’s calculating gaze switched from his target, to Kim, to Tony. “Even if I shoot him,” he started, “you would have to go in public to eat him. You should isolate the target to avoid suspicion.”

Tony snorted, taking it as a win. He licked his hand and smoothed his hair back, stretching his spine as his tail disappeared.

-

Freddie felt himself zoning out with a woozy headache after the third round, and felt Kim’s shoe nudge his ankle.

“Doll, you won.”

“Huh?” Freddie lifted his head, suddenly noticing the stacks of poker chips in front of them. He could feel the glaring tension of the other players judging his every move, with Kim the only exception.

Kim leaned in to whisper in his ear, “now play again.”

Before Freddie could get a word out, they heard someone slam on the jukebox behind them, and Kim whipped her head to hiss at the culprit. Freddie timidly turned with her, landing his eyes on a man with three red lenses of glasses.

He wore a black suit with a red tie, kicking his foot off with Steely Dan’s “Do It Again” playing at full volume. With everyone's eyes following his movements in whispers, he made his way down the room to Kim’s poker table.

“Bonjour,” he greeted, taking someone else's champagne glass to gulp down. He tossed it behind him, clamping his hands on Freddie and Kim’s shoulders. “Fellas, this man is cheating.”

A harlequin guest stood up and pointed. “I KNEW IT!”

“Show us your hand!” Another demanded.

Freddie stared at Kim, who rolled her eyes as she shoved the man’s hand off her shoulder.

“You can't prove anything, Tony.” She snapped, standing up to his eye level. They were roughly the same height, both much taller than Freddie.

Tony laughed, the shrillness sounding as fake as it did threatening. “Is this what you do these days, Kim? Pick up random college kids to become your little playthings while your casino runs on greedy idiots?”

Kim raised a hand to claw his face, acrylic nails poised an inch from his eye where Tony’s hand caught her wrist. “Stay. Out of this.”

Freddie expected someone to intervene, to pull him from being pushed further into his seat as Tony’s fingers dug into his collarbone. The other guests leaned back to watch, too alarmed and entertained to move.

Tony slammed Kim’s wrist to the table, Kim reached past him and grabbed Freddie’s shirt, yanking him closer to her as Tony’s retaliating scratch flew through the air.

Freddie yelped, realizing he cut ribbons from his cheap dress shirt. Kim held him as a shield, or a hostage, depending on how tightly she'd dig her nails into his neck.

“So what if he cheated?” Kim said, loud enough to address the room. “You all have. You can't kill him without admitting we’d all deserve the same fate.”

Tony wheezed. “Yeah. You all do.”

“Please don't kill me,” Freddie struggled to say, not wanting to use his throat more than necessary. Kim’s grip on him tightened.

“This casino runs on rotating profit.” Kim continued. “My anonymous players can come from any background, and I’ve seen failures win more than I’ve allowed cold-blooded murders inside my walls.”

Freddie could feel his heart racing as his back was pressed tighter against her, and Kim’s death grip loosened enough to let him breathe again. Tony’s grin still hadn't vanished.

Kim turned to her guests with a smirk. “Jack, divide my share between the players. Let no one return home broke.”

The guests sighed with relief as Freddie’s poker chips were split, and Kim pulled him away from the table, with Tony trotting after them.

“Puttin’ on a show as usual, eh, Kim?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Hey, you,” Tony tapped Freddie’s shoulder, the one he’d previously almost broken . “You be careful with her. She's not just a spoiled diva.”

Kim swung around to slap him, and Tony dodged her with a step back.

“Remove yourself before my bouncer does.” Kim snapped, watching Tony walk backwards with his hands in his pockets.

Freddie felt his arm nervously, not knowing whether to duck his head or follow the strange man outside. Kim’s casino hadn't had any real benefits so far.

Tony noticed his awkward staring and flashed his teeth. “C’mon, boyo, you don't wanna end up like these chumps.”

“Tony, I’m warning you-”

“I have a car.”

Freddie blinked, suddenly standing in front of Kim before she could chop Tony’s head off. “A car?”

Kim glared down at him. “Stay out of this. Tony’s nothing but a dramatic liar.”

Tony extended his hand, dangling car keys, his mischievous grin turning into a sympathetic smile; a sudden dimple in his cheek. Freddie had never received a look so genuinely kind before, focusing on him like he was the only person in the room.

Kim’s jeweled hand snaked down Freddie’s arm to squeeze his hand, nearly cutting his circulation off enough to make him gasp.

Tony stepped forward, and a masked bouncer stopped him with a firm arm. Tony rolled his eyes and threw the keys at Freddie’s shoes, spinning around with his hands raised.

“Fine, I’m leaving-”

“Wait!” Freddie snatched the keys with his free hand, pulling himself against Kim’s grip. “Come back!”

“Are you stupid?” Kim snapped. “He can't promise you anything! He’s just a psychotic weirdo!”

Tony stopped walking, turning his ear to the window.

“I prefer the term ‘omen of death’.”

-

Ashton fired his first shot.

His new target was a man standing directly outside the front door, only a foot away from where Tony stood.

The gunshot alerted the casino crowd in a frenzy, and every guest clambered past each other in screaming as they made their exits. Some hid under tables, some made it to their cars to drive away, and Tony dragged the corpse away to eat behind a flowery bush.

Ashton put his gun away and met him there, listening to the snarling of inhuman feasting as Tony licked his fingers clean. Ashton patiently waited for him to finish, checking his watch twice.

“Good enough for you?”

Tony hummed. “This wasn't part of your assignment.”

“Neither was the rest of whatever you were doing.” Ashton pointed out. “The guy I killed was practically eighty years old with no future ahead of him.”

“You killed him because he was old?”

“It’s better than killing a woman for gambling.”

Tony groaned, throwing his head back so far his glasses slid up past his three eyes. “Women can be evil-”

“Is she your ex or something?”

Tony frowned. “No, it was ‘complicated’, which made it so much worse! That bitch is a soul-sucking monster who only likes the humans she can bend to her will.” He folded his arms, more pissed off than Ashton’s ever seen him. “All she cares about is money and power.”

Ashton wrinkled his nose, sitting next to Tony for the first time in weeks. “And you used to date her?”

“I used to want to.” Tony corrected. “Imagine only knowing one other undying piece of shit for your entire existence.”

“That's not a good enough reason to date someone-”

“That's why I want someone else to be immortal with me!” Tony said, turning to Ashton with a glint in his eyes. “You! You can live godhood with me!”

Ashton sighed, leaning back on his hands to look up at the sky. The stars were few and far between, but still more than he could count.

“I don't want to be immortal to live with you.” Ashton said, keeping his tone level. “I want to be immortal so I can become the person who changes the world for the better, kill by kill. If the only other immortals are selfish like you and Kim, then I’m not talking to you ever again after I’m done with you.”

Tony’s slight frown softened his face. “If you say so… but you’d be surprised how lonely you can get when all your loved ones die before you can get attached to new ones.”

Ashton squinted in doubt. “Watch me.”