Nothing

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Nothing
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         Brad cast a sideways glance at Leon and scowled. The sight of the man’s face pushed him to question his motive in visiting the base. It was because he wanted to see Naomi again, wasn’t it? Of course it was. He had simply forgotten about Leon, and how much he despised him.
         Brad turned back into the bathroom, then shut and locked the door spitefully. He wandered over to the mirror, almost in a daze, and set his hands on the counter for support. He took a quiet moment staring at his own face to think over his intentions.
         Naomi was the only reason he had come. The only one.
         No.
         She had to be. Why would he visit the friend who had betrayed him? There would be no point to such a visit. It would only cause pain and frustration.
         No.
         Then why?
         …
         Brad closed his eyes and shifted uneasily before looking at himself again. His eyes met their reflection and he flinched. With a soft groan, he focused them on the faucet instead. Sighing, Brad brought his mind back to answering his question.
         If he were to get to the heart of it, he had to first remind himself how Leon had betrayed him. How had he?
         He took her.
         Yes, he took her. Why had he taken her?
         So I couldn’t have her.
         Of course. Leon had taken her purely so Brad could not have her. Why, then, if he already knew of this plot, had he come back to the base?
         A pause.
         To take her.
         He had reached his answer. Still on that thought, he lifted his head and stared at his own eyes a second time. There was already something remarkably different about them. The blue had never looked so cold and deep. It was chilling; but somehow, in this instant, it calmed him. He cracked a smile.
         A smile.
         No ordinary smile, but one that had never formed on his lips before. It was sinister and reckless. His gradually contorting thoughts fed it, and it grew. But alas, he reached a second dilemma. How would he take her? Brad’s smile faltered.
         Doesn’t matter.
         But such details do matter. Leon would not hand her over. Would a bargain suffice, or would violence come into play?
         Doesn’t matter.
         Brad’s stoic look transformed into an angry, determined one. A bargain? What bargain in the world could deliver her to him? There was no such bargain, and so violence was the clear solution. The clear, easy, appropriate solution.
         The young pilot stood straight and observed his expression. He was pale and his hair was mussed, but his eyes retained their frozen appearance and his newfound smile forced itself out again. Months of near obsession had transformed him.
         Changing his wicked grin into a classic smirk, he left the bathroom quietly and made his way down the hall toward familiar voices. A door slammed suddenly. Had someone entered or exited? Brad quickened his pace and entered the living room.
         “There ya are, Brad,” Naomi greeted with her usual smile. “Leon went out to—”
         “Hey, uh, Naomi?”
         “Eh, yeah?”
         “I think I should go. Bit told me we might have a battle this afternoon, and I’m not sure what time, so, I should just get over there as soon as possible,” Brad lied calmly, struggling to keep his normal appearance. However he tried, Naomi looked slightly uneasy, and her tenseness spread to him.
         “Well, if you think that’s best, Brad. I’ll see you later?”
         “Of course,” he said, adding a smile for good measure, “hope the rest of your weekend goes well.”
         “Thanks. Good luck in that battle. You won’t need it, though,” she added with a smile and wink. Brad nodded and forced a smile that ended up more crooked than he had intended, then made his exit quickly. Naomi leaned against the couch and watched him leave.
         Brad walked into the hangar and swayed slightly as he reached his Shadow Fox. He stared up at the Zoid for a few seconds before tilting his head and looking out across the desert. Leon had just run off, and the hangar door had yet to close. Brad’s wicked smile returned and he began his climb into the cockpit.
         Once inside, he took the controls roughly and piloted the Fox forward swiftly. The Zoid seemed to take note of the jerkiness in his piloting and growled weakly, but the pilot paid no mind. Increasing speed, Brad soon had a red Blade Liger in sight.
         Would he really do it? Or was his bathroom conference nothing but rushed and pressured thoughts?
         I’ll do it.
         He claimed he would. Rather, he told himself he would. As the gap between the Fox and Liger closed, his pulse quickened and grip tightened.
         I’ll do it.
         Why was he going to do it? Everything flooded back to him in a matter of seconds: Leon’s advances toward Naomi, Naomi’s willingness to take Leon in, his own months of pondering and depression, the bathroom, the Zoid’s protest. His eyes grew colder and deeper as his smile grew wider and nastier.
         Brad fired the gatling gun and pounded rounds into the Liger’s side, catching Leon’s attention immediately. While the Liger slowed and turned to meet him, the Fox leapt into the air and its claws began to glow. The Liger wasn’t maneuverable enough to avoid its attacker, and the Fox’s claws drove through the Liger’s back and neck. As the black Zoid landed less than gracefully, Brad cursed and steadied for a second attack. He had missed his target.
         The Liger wobbled and braced itself before Leon opened a comm. link. “Brad! What are you—” Leon stopped his sentence, finding Brad’s wild eyes and noting his pale, twisted face. This was not someone he knew, nor wanted to know.
         Brad terminated the link without a word and leapt forward once more, claws glowing and rounds firing. Leon, in a panic, extended the blades and charged as they too began to glow. Leon was about to leap and meet Brad in the air when the smoke dischargers were engaged and a cloud formed above the Liger. Leon shirked to the side as the smoke descended on him and his vision became useless.
         Inside the smoke cloud, metal impacted metal and tearing gave way to screeching. When the noise settled down, the Shadow Fox swerved out of the cloud and nearly tipped over, its pilot reckless with the controls. The Liger was still not visible, trapped inside the cloud, as a loud crash sounded. The black Zoid shook itself uneasily before stepping back into the fading smoke.
         With each step, smoke seemed to be pushed away by the Fox until the Liger could be seen. Its canopy was torn open and Leon lay sideways, held in by his harness. Blood was splattered on his face as well as the control panels. Inside his own cockpit, Brad laughed.
         Stepping closer, Brad lifted his canopy and jumped down to approach to Leon. As he reached the cockpit, he could hear pained breathing and sighs. His job was not yet done, and his wicked smile faltered only for a second before growing. How would he do it? For the first time, he knew exactly what he would do.
         Patiently and decidedly, Brad returned to his cockpit and rummaged through some dusty supply bags. Inside one he found an old, dirty knife with a red taped handle. He laughed again and slid back down to the ground, knife in hand.
         Leon shifted uncomfortably as his eyes opened and he saw Brad approaching him. Brad’s appearance was horrific in its own respect, but the patience and resolve with which he walked sent chills up Leon’s spine. Brad’s approach seemed to take hours, and yet, suddenly, Brad was at his side. The smile never leaving his face, Brad released the harness and threw Leon to the ground roughly.
         “Brad! What—why are you doing this? Stop! Brad!” Leon shouted hoarsely as he wriggled and rolled to get away. Brad caught him effortlessly and held him still as he stood over him.
         I’ll do it.
         Brad dropped to his knees, straddling Leon as he held him with one arm and raised the knife with the other.
         “You wouldn’t! Please, Brad!” Leon continued to shout, writhing against Brad’s grasp. His struggle was futile as Brad’s body weight held him down and his hand refused to release its hold.
         A glint in his eye, Brad brought the knife down across Leon’s neck and chest.
         Hack, hack, hack.
         It was done. Leon lay beneath Brad in a puddle of his own blood. Brad’s hands and legs were showered in blood, and the knife he held dripped with it. But it was done.
         Dropping the knife, Brad stood clumsily and turned as a flash caught the corner of his eye. A small Zoid was headed his way. Scratching his head casually, and smearing blood in his hair, Brad took a few steps toward it and squinted. A red Gun Sniper.
         Naomi.
         What would she think of this? Oh, what was there to think of? After all, he had what he wanted. She was his. What could she do about it?
         He glanced back at the knife and Leon’s body.
         Nothing.