ENTER: The Magician, and His Assistant. [ PreExam Hisoka x Reader ]

EPISODE TWENTY: The x lines x that x were x crossed

CHAPTER 20

THE LINES THAT WERE CROSSED

~*~

The magician dropped the princess off at her home, their words tight, mostly unsaid. As soon as she was out of sight, a flip was switched in him and he began darting back to his den of snakes. The urge to destroy was slithering in his veins with the force of a freight train, something that had become increasingly frequently, like an itch. An itch he was going to scratch.

~*~

His aura was long erased before he even got a mile within the circus grounds, concealing his prowling presence. The cerise haired boy was flying across the ground, feet lightly pushing off the grassy field beneath him to further propel him forward. If one was to blink, they would miss him darting through, he was a blur of motion. Somehow, his adrenaline wasn't rushing yet, and his heart remained calm and steady. Despite that, he was running through all the ways he would dismember the inked man smoking in the practice tent, because he was clearly incapable of learning. This time, no one else would be involved, and no one would be able to stop Hisoka from spilling Pearson's blood. By the time the body would be discovered, he would have covered his tracks, though suspicion would never leave him. After all, he was the most despised troupe member, for he was the most cunning and wicked.

He wove through the tents at a lethal speed, and slipped into the tent where the older man was smoking, wasting no time in flicking his wrists to place a card in his fingers, and lunging at the low stringer. His gleaming eyes were the only warning given before Pearson scrambled to dodge, caught off guard.

Blade met card with a dull clank, both weapons finding places on the dirt below them. Both faced off, already rearmed with their ammunition of choice.

"I believe I've been quite patient with my warning to you." Hisoka stated, brushing back some hair that had fallen from it's gelled hold, "Though it seems you're incapable of listening."

The inked man scoffed, flicking dirt off of his shoulder. "You are the one who won't listen. You may have grown a little crush on your tutor, but it doesn't change the fact that she's still my meal. You had the chance to claim her when you met, but you didn't. You can't get mad now."

Instead of disputing the low stringer, the magician boy merely threw another card at Pearson, the latter leaning to the side to avoid the easy shot. There was lightning sparking beneath their masked gazes, and they both ran at each other. The older performer pulled out his small knives, holding them in the crook of his fingers, and brought them in a downwards arc to the red headed devil, who ducked beneath the attacking hand to slam his leg into Pearson's side. The lean body flew into a support beam, causing the tent to shudder. The knife wielding man recovered quickly, springing back up and launching three knives out towards the boy, who caught them. Hisoka threw the knives back, one by one, using each to cut off Pearson's attempts to flee the tent. If the tattooed man went right, the knife cut off his path, same for left. Ultimately, the sinewy man opted to race straight at Hisoka, running straight into the path of his own knife. The blade embedded deep into his shoulder, causing blood to drip down to the dirt, and the younger boy was tackled to the ground.

They were a tangle of limbs as each tried to slice at the other, both gaining their own scratches and bruises in the mix. Laughter spilled from the younger boy as he kept avoiding fatal blows to either his head or his body, enjoying the malice and frustration rolling off of Pearson in waves. Not even a punch across his face deterred his amusement, and to return the favor, he used Pearson's imbalance as a chance to shove a card into the lower stringer's gut.

Delight sparkled in the yellow eyes of the boy beneath the tattooed man, who grit his teeth as his blood spilled onto the body beneath him. The color matched the vibrant color of Hisoka's hair, and for the third time that night, he felt mortal fear race through him.

The inky form of the man began to quiver slightly as a clawed hand reached up under his chin, the curve of the boy's nails dragging his face down until his ear was by the monster's lips. "I think we both know how this is going to end, if you don't concede to my wishes. I'd really hate to kill a fellow troupemate, after all." Pearson could feel the grin against his skin, detecting insincerity heavily lacing the boy's words.

Hisoka kicked Pearson off, watching the older male scoot backwards to avoid his approaching figure. The cerise haired boy picked up one of the male's knives, his smile only growing. He would kill Pearson with his own weapon. His canines gleamed once his lips split, and he chuckled.

His arm wound backwards, preparing to deliver the final, dramatic blow.

But his plan to end it all here was thwarted by the ever-aware ring master, Moritonio.

A card of his own was sent towards Hisoka, who jumped up to avoid the attack. Anger welled up inside of him, because he had been so close. He sent a potent glare Moritonio's way, a silent threat. However, the ringmaster wasn't affected by the obvious bloodlust leaking from the younger boy's looming form. Taking advantage of the interruption, the tattooed man crawled out from under Hisoka's legs, clutching at his stomach. Large splashes of crimson fell from his midsection, causing him to cuss. Hisoka was satisfied at the sight, wondering if perhaps the low stringer would die of blood loss anyway.

His gaze shifted back to Moritonio, knowing his punishment would be heavy.

"You're going to pay the price for your games, Hisoka."

[~*~]

The girl was in her bed, underneath her duvet and quilts, curled up in a cold sweat. After she had turned out her light, she had seen Hisoka leaving, lacking the courage to confront his stunt then. She had been staring up at her ceiling, feeling the minutes pass by like a thick fluid, and refusing to acknowledge the knots in her stomach. She had been scared. A jolt of pain seared from the bite wound down the dark veins traversing her torso, causing her to whimper. One of her hands felt the area, shocked to feel it ache, as it hadn't for so long. A sudden urge to walk out of the house, and go back to circus came over her, but she bit her lip and buried further underneath the covers.

Her limbs began to feel shaky, and her bite merely began to pulsate and throb with deep aches and stabbing pains. Her body no longer felt cold with fear, but hot and sweat formed bullets on her. Without really thinking, she got up and walked to her bathroom on shaking legs.

Once she made it to the toilet, she began heaving her stomach's contents into the bowl. She barely had time to breathe between the onslaughts of nausea, fighting the urge to writhe because she didn't want to make a mess. Eventually, it turned to dry heaving as she had nothing left to toss. She noticed it didn't look so normal anymore, though, and that her next heave had her spill thick, dark liquid that tasted of iron and sulphur.

As soon as it left her system, the nausea left.

Then, the worst sensation of pain overcame her, shooting from her stomach instead of the bite, and she bit into her arm to muffle the screams that almost escaped her. When the wave of agony subsided, she was flat against the tile of her bathroom. The coolness of the floor did nothing to calm the raging fever dancing in her flesh, but it felt nice and she was too exhausted to move.

It was an irrational, instinct driven thought that came across her mind, and it left her baffled, but she couldn't help but know in her gut that this illness had to be the fault of Pearson. Somehow, he had infected her when she came to his room, when he bit her. Her brows furrowed, and her fingers curled against the tile as her mind worked out a way to understand how it would be possible. The image of Moritonio's sky swimming act popped up behind her eyes, and she groaned. It wasn't aiding her attempts to understand. She wanted to call it paranormal, but she was skeptical of such things.

Deep down, she felt more alone and scared than ever, but the emotions left her when she fell asleep on her bathroom floor.

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