#the dude who works on a bar with a bottle shaped head is peak character design

[jirlshi]

Manny's head looks like a goddam bottle... Now I can't unsee that for the rest of my life

And you either, SORRY---

[vostara]

Hypnophobia — 01

eins — your hotel hall won’t be so vacant

pairing: ares x original female character (beatrix)

blurb: “I’ve fallen in love with you, but you have too many secrets.”

word count: 1.8k+

title inspiration: kill4me - marilyn manson

Before we begin, I wanted to give a special shoutout to @the-darklings​ for granting me permission to post and write a story inspired by their own work, Children of Ares. Just so you know, Hypnophobia is a completely separate entity and does not exist in nor have any sort of canon relation to COA. I also want to give a quick shoutout to my dear friend, Tati, who has agreed to proofread my drafts for spelling and grammar errors.

This work is cross-posted on AO3.

01 | 02

A December night in Chicago is frigid. The pavement is littered with clusters of salt, melting the layers of ice that had hoped to make a home on the sidewalks and roads. This is a salt ruins leather boots that owners have neglected to protect. A salt that obliterates a pair of cheap shoes before winter concludes, before spring peaks her head between the gray clouds. When the snow falls, it blankets the drab, cold cement with an even colder white blanket. The snow buries the cars on the streets, the entrances to apartment complexes, and the sparse shrubbery meant to break the monotony. It buries the wooden platforms of the train stations that have yet to receive an overdue upgrade to concrete. Stations that are located in areas that the city does not care to fix.

Even with all of the cold, the city is still full of life. It is crowded with civilians hustling their way onto the trains, hoping to feel its warmth before their gloved hands are completely numb. People go about their day, rushing to work in the mornings and eager to come home in the evenings. The college students crack open bottles of booze, as soon as the sun sets on Thursdays. And they spend the rest of the weekend stumbling into bars and flirting with anyone willing to glance at them for more than a mere millisecond. The lonely singles are desperate to find someone who can warm their beds. Someone who can distract them for a few hours. Someone who gets them so high that they forget about the Christmas misery and forced cheer permeating the air.

And on this particular night, Beatrix stands on the balcony of a hotel room. Dressed in a black coat, much too large for her frame, and a pair of red stilettos, she examines the city streets below with her chestnut brown eyes. Despite the late hour, there are still groups of people stumbling through the streets and shouting their conversations for all to hear. Just as her eyes settle on a group of drunk women slipping on the ice, a pair of muscular, tanned arms wrap around her waist.

“Come back to bed, bella,” the man whispers into her ear. “It feels lonely without you.”

Beatrix smiles and turns around. She places a hand on the back of his neck and then pulls him down for a quick kiss. “What are you doing out here?” She asks.

Luca is, by far, the most attractive man she has had the pleasure of sharing a bed with. His towering height and dimpled smile, mixed with the perfectly disheveled coffee-colored curls sitting on top of his head, is a combination that could make anyone weak to the knees.

Realizing that the man is dressed only in a pair of boxers and an unbuttoned black shirt, Beatrix pulls him towards her. “You’re going to freeze out here.”

Luca chuckles. “Unfortunately, it appears that a beautiful woman has stolen my coat. Perhaps if she comes back inside, we can both be spared from the cold.”

“Perhaps,” she replies.

The couple leave the balcony, escaping from the ice and the wind chill. Beatrix slips out of her heels and tosses the coat onto an armchair in the corner of the room. She hops back onto the bed, while her lover rummages around in his duffle bag.

“I have a surprise for you,” Luca says.

“Oh?”

He climbs onto the bed next to her and holds out a thin black box. “A gift, to celebrate the occasion.”

Beatrix plucks the box out of his hands. “And what is the occasion?”

“A reunion.”

After throwing another glance and smile at Luca, she focuses her attention to the gift. She pries it open and her eyes focus on a large pear-shaped ruby pendant, resting on a delicate gold chain. “It looks expensive.”

Luca nuzzles his face into the side of her neck. His nose brushes against her dangling gold earrings, a gift from their third liaison, as he moves to place an open-mouth kiss below her ear. “Only the best for my girl.”

Beatrix pulls the necklace out of the box. “And did you get this before or after your business meeting?” She turns to face Luca and quirks an eyebrow.

He pauses. “After.”

“Must have been one hell of a business deal. If it makes you splurge on such a gift for your holiday fling.”

Luca frowns. “Is that what you think you are?”

Beatrix hesitates with her response, shifting her gaze away from his eyes.

The man places his right hand on the side of her neck and pulls her head to lay against his chest. It’s a gesture that feels almost too gentle for somebody whose hands are covered in tattoos of skulls and daggers.

“Tell me what’s wrong, bella.”

“I just,” she sighs. “I want to know who you are, who you really are. What you do. Where the money comes from.” She pulls away from him and starts to cry.

How much more of my time are you going to waste?

“I-I’ve fallen in love with you.” Beatrix tries to wipe the tears off her face, but just ends up smearing the liquid all over her cheeks. “But you have too many secrets.”

He’s too loyal.

Luca reaches out towards her. He pulls her hands away from her face and wipes the tears himself.

“I don’t care if you’re a criminal. I’ll love you no matter what, but I need to know the truth.”

The man sighs. “It’s best if you don’t know anything about my business affairs.”

There’s a deadline.

Beatrix peaks up at Luca through her lashes. His jaw is clenched and there’s a tinge of regret painted in his chocolate eyes.

I know.

“I’ve seen your gun. And your knife. Is your boss, like, a drug dealer?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I think I should go.” Beatrix slides off the bed. She heads for her purse that had been carelessly tossed near the bathroom door.

Luca rushes after her. “Wait, don’t go,” he pleads.

Can you turn him?

Beatrix whips around and shoves Luca away from her. “Then tell me who you work for.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Luca pauses. “I won’t.”

Doubtful.

“I’m leaving.” Beatrix responds. She grabs her purse and unbuckles the clasp.

“I know you’re upset, but I think we can work through this—”

Beatrix reaches inside her purse. When her fingertips brush against the object she’s looking for, she curls her fingers firmly around the metallic handle.

“—I just can’t share this aspect of my life with you. Not yet.”

Terminate him.

Dropping her purse, Beatrix lunges at Luca.

The man stumbles and falls backwards onto the bed. Beatrix jumps on top of him, straddling his waist. Not quite fully alert, he fails to notice when the woman raises the object in her hand. By the time he realizes what is about to happen, it’s too late to stop the dagger plunging into his heart.

Beatrix pulls the blade out of his chest and then slices open his neck. As she sits on his hips, she watches as the pristine white sheets are tainted by a deep crimson liquid. She reaches for his right hand and slips a ring off of his finger. It’s a gold ring. One that identifies him as a notable member of the Camorra.

A few moments later, Beatrix finally climbs off of him. She heads toward the armchair, grabbing her purse along the way. Settling into the seat, she pulls a phone out of her purse and calls one of the three saved contacts.

The line rings twice before the call is answered.

“Hey, you busy?” Beatrix speaks. “My boyfriend hooked me up with some amazing wine, but I accidentally spilled some of it on my white sheets. Would you mind popping by? You’re a genius at fixing this stuff. Plus, I still have plenty of wine to share.”

~ ~ ~

“At least you weren’t lying about the bottle of wine this time.” A woman, Izzy, remarks before taking a sip from her wine glass. Beatrix had met her a couple of years ago, when they were introduced through a mutual friend. Though she had been drawn to the dark-skinned woman’s sharp cheekbones and playful banter, she was more interested in Izzy’s talent for making evidence disappear.

Beatrix hums and takes a sip from her own glass. She shifts her position in the armchair, leaning back and crossing her legs.

“When were you gonna tell me that you were back in town?”

“It’s temporary.”

“Uh huh,” Izzy gestures to the corpse on the bed. “And what is this?”

“The boyfriend.”

“Okay,” Izzy nods. “Is the boyfriend’s departure from the land of the living due to a lovers’ spat? Or are you working?”

Beatrix reveals the faintest hint of a smile, before taking another sip of wine.

Izzy rolls her eyes and approaches the corpse. She leans down for a closer inspection, examining the man’s injuries and the blood pattern on the sheets. “Damn, he was cute. What a shame.” She frowns. “Didn’t put up much of a fight though, did he? I don’t see any defensive wounds. No early signs of bruising.”

A long pause follows the woman’s observations.

“Is he,” Izzy glances over at Beatrix, “Camorra?”

“You’re good with faces. I don’t think you really need to ask, do you?”

Izzy laughs before finishing off her glass of wine. She reaches for the half-empty bottle and pours herself another serving. “You? You were fucking a Camorra man? I thought you despised that organization.”

“A job’s a job, right?”

“You’re joking.”

Beatrix shakes her head.

Izzy frowns. “Someone hired you to hit the Camorra and you took it?”

The pale woman doesn’t respond.

“Jesus,” Izzy approaches her friend and leans against the wall beside her. “Bee, what kind of bullshit have you been roped into now?”

Beatrix downs the rest of wine. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Is the job done?” Izzy’s eyes shift back to Luca. “Was he your target? Some dude that they’ll replace before the sun sets tomorrow?”

“You’re not getting paid enough for that information.”

Izzy pouts.

“I just need you to clean up this mess.” Beatrix stands up and sets down her glass on a nearby table.

Izzy sighs and places her glass next to Beatrix’s. She shrugs off her coat, folds it up neatly, and places it on the table as well. Then she reaches into an oversized bag and pulls out a pair of black latex gloves. Slipping them onto her hands, she rolls back her shoulders and stretches her neck to relieve a minor kink in it. “And here I was hoping to waste some company dime by gossiping on the clock.”

A/N: I’m so sorry that Ares couldn’t make an appearance in this chapter, but she will be showing up in the next chapter, I promise!

If you are intrigued by what you’ve seen, I would really appreciate it if you could reblog this chapter. I literally have 3 followers right now (and one of those followers is me on my main blog), so I would very grateful for any help that gives me more exposure than what I would be able to reach on my own.

This is the first fic I’ve written in like four years, but I’m really excited to explore Beatrix and her position in the John Wick universe. I am hoping to post a new chapter bi-weekly (on Saturdays).

[lime-ether]

PFFFFFFHAHAHFRHFAH

Manny's head looks like a goddam bottle... Now I can't unsee that for the rest of my life

And you either, SORRY---