Notes

Sigh. What a bland, boring life. Wander. Find someone who tolerates you. Follow them around for a bit. Get attached. Be left for dead. Repeat. Cal didn't know why he bothered anymore. Nothing ever lasts, no matter how hard he tries. No matter how many times he reassures himself that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different than the others. All that betrayal, all that heartbreak - it didn't bother him any more. He couldn't do anything about it, after all. He was just as numb as ever.

But for some reason; this time, Cal was mad. A dark, twisted rage suddenly resting its claws over his shoulders, and not willing to let go any time soon.

He wouldn't hurt his bros. Not even with the loathsome hate weighing him down now. But - there was nothing stopping him from taking things out on a total stranger. As much as he'd like to make it quick, not risk becoming fond of the unfortunate victim, he wanted someone to suffer - just as much as he was. Maybe more.

Out into the wastelands. The journey was short, barely any time before Cal stumbled upon a battered caravan, in shambles from the sandstorm that was just passing. But he wasn't interested in the loot. What this crooked creep was interested in, was the young child that sat filthy and crying by the broken, bloodied body of someone who could have been his sister. The child's parents were nowhere to be seen.
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Cal approached the young boy with his signature bright smile, setting a bloodstained mitten on his shoulder gently. "Hey, kiddo. Don't be down. Things can always get better." His head tilted to the side slightly as the child glanced back up at him, sniffling and wiping at his face with a hiccup. "Listen. There's a city not too far from here, folks call it 'Cago. We'll get you some help, alrighty?"

He almost felt bad about those blatant lies. Almost. But when the kid nodded, and he carefully heaved him onto his back, he couldn't help but break into a full out crooked grin not nearly as friendly as his previous smile. Cal turned and walked further into the wastes, a slight bounce in his step as he crossed the cracked earth. The child seemed relaxed around him already, leaning a dusty cheek against the soft fabric of his bright blue tee as they travelled. Perfect. A shallow cave; dark, indistinguishable from the rest of the shady recesses in the otherwise flat land. Though, with a sibling dead, and parents out of the picture - who's there to miss the kid anyways?

Cal turned on the heel of his Damn Daniels, stepping into the cave with one of his spine-chilling giggles. In one smooth movement, the little boy was off his back and tossed to the ground roughly, slamming against the rock wall with a muted yelp. The Strider's giggle grew to an almost cackle. "Poor kiddo!! Haven't your parents ever warned you about stranger danger? Hee hee hoo hoo haa haa!!!"

Barely a second passed before that once comforting mittened hand was wrapped around the child's neck, not quite squeezing yet, but keeping him pinned to the wall. Tears had already begun to pour down the young one's cheeks. Cal's grin fell suddenly, replaced with an irritated scowl. "Don't cry, buddy! Lil' Cal's gonna take real good care of you!! Just as long as you promise to laugh~!!!" He knew that wasn't going to happen. But it was worth the trouble of asking anyways, watching the kid squirm and claw at his hand in vain.

"Don't you worry!! You'll see your sister again soon!!!" Cal jerked his arm to the side, pulling the kid onto the hard ground with another squeak. One foot slammed into his chest, digging the heel of his shoe down against those fragile ribs. He stopped at the first sickening crack, grin only widening further at the scream it earned him. His perfectly painted face was lit up with a twisted sort of glee, the heavy claw of anger on his back lifting up just enough to let him have his way with this poor child. "Are you a lefty or a righty? Actually - doesn't matter!! I'll just do both, so it's nice and even! Hee hee!!!" With that, he'd release his grip on the boy's neck, both hands immediately going out to match the smaller ones. Slowly, unyieldingly, Cal began to bend each finger back one at a time until they broke with that ever so satisfying snapping noise, his eerie giggle joining the agonized screaming. Soon enough, each finger was bent at a definitely not natural angle, and he moved right on to the wrist; then the arm; then the shoulders- so on and so forth. Breaking every single fragile bone he could get at with those bloodied mitts of his.

It wasn't enough. He hasn't suffered enough.

Cal stopped for just a moment, staring down at the broken body of the child with an all too gleeful expression. Either he was dead already, or had passed out along the way, Cal was not satisfied. Not even close. He knelt down, running his palms gently over the kid's face. And then abruptly bringing his hands down to grab the young boy's arms just below the shoulder, and brutally tearing them out of their sockets in a spray of that ever so beautiful shade of scarlet. There was a disgusting wet ripping noise as the limbs were torn loose, and then tossed aside as if they were nothing more than an unsatisfactory toy. Which technically - they were.

Judging by the lack of wailing, the boy was long dead. Perhaps from his ribs piercing his lungs? Blood loss? The large dent in the side of his skull? Whatever the case, he was gone, and significantly less entertaining to mutilate. It didn't matter much to Cal. The weight on his shoulders was dealt with, along with the heavy grip of rage on his heart. It's always nice to vent. With one more nightmarish giggle, he knelt down to the small, lifeless corpse. Too broken to make another friend out of, however unfortunately. Cal hummed, reaching down with a deceivingly gentle touch to slide down the eyelids of the deceased - or so it seemed. Without even a flinch, he dug his fingers into the child's eye sockets and pulled out the optic organs with a quiet 'pop'. Who would he be to leave without a souvenir?

There wasn't a moment's hesitation as Cal left the small cavern, tiny hazel trophies tucked into his pocket, twisted giggles rising into the polluted wasteland air. Blue. Orange. And a whole lot of red.