Raspberry Ripple

"You're getting sloppy. The murders getting to you, boy?" The gruff voice of Sura scratched through his phone.

"No," Dax bit out. "The job is done, isn't it? Then, why the fuck are you still bothering me?"

Sura let out an exasperated breath. "Don't act like a brat. And don't forget what Raju anna has done for you. You and your sister would be leading very different lives if not for him."

"Yes, very different lives," Dax muttered under his breath, pulling the phone out of his ear a little and turning around. He wondered if Red had closed the ice cream shop already. He wished Sura would hang up so he could clean up a little and see if he can get something sweet to salvage his bittering soul tonight.

"You owe us sixty more kills. Don't get rusty already." With that, Sura hung up.

Dax slumped against the wall next to him. Sixty. Sixty more souls that had to reaped by his unwilling bare hands. He closed his eyes and let out a breath when the image of the man he'd killed flashed in his mind. He was a lanky tall man serving the government and the only mistake he made was doing his job diligently. A world that had its survival rooted in predation found it difficult to comprehend good people and naturally, it disliked what it couldn't comprehend. And what it disliked, it lusted to eliminate.

He pushed himself off the wall and wiped off the blood on his jacket with his handkerchief. Dax had taken a lot of time to kill the man because he had the upper hand against him. The man was powerless, unhidden fear possessing his body that made him tremble at the sight of the blade in his hand. His cries, his pleas, listing out his 8-year-old daughter and his wife as reasons to live as if his life was worth living only for them --- the sounds haunted him. He could hear them every night--- every one of them he'd killed.

Dax walked down the hill, already dreading the night. He had somehow adopted the ice cream as some sort of grounding technique--- proof that if he could enjoy the sweetness of it, he hadn't turned into a cold-blooded animal just yet. He needed that assurance to keep going. He reached the foot of the hill, almost sure he'd be met with the empty void where the ice cream truck stood every day.

But when he saw the sign on the truck, shining like it had moonlight fuelling it, his feet came to a sharp halt.

The white tables and chairs were folded except for one set. With a book in one hand, Red sat facing the truck, her leg propped up on the other chair. A bowl of ice cream was the only thing that kept her company under the pitch-black night. It was close to midnight and the air was chilly. He didn't understand why this stupid woman was sitting outside, without a jacket on or anything to cover her bare legs. Dax knew her brain was filled with whimsical and grandly nonsensical ideas but this one might have been the worst one yet.

She didn't seem to notice him as he made his way to her. The air rustled through her hair, making the insulting little red bow sway to and fro as if life was all roses and romance.

"Why haven't you closed shop yet?" he asked, making a shrill squeal escape her lips as she jumped up in fright and her legs slid off the chair. She had been sitting on the edge of the seat so the chair wobbled, threating to fall. Dax caught hold of the back of the chair and saved her from a nasty bruise on her face, letting out a sigh. "I asked you a question, Red."

"And also tried to give me a heart attack!" she fired back, catching her chest and turning around to glare at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Why haven't you closed shop yet?" he repeated.

She stood up and faced him. "It's my shop. I simply didn't want to."

"Don't tell me something disgusting like you were waiting for me," he said.