KILLER CHAT VIDEO CALL

The voice channel “Slaughterhouse-Losers” hums with the low static of open mics and uneven breathing—five people already inside, one conspicuously missing.

You.

As usual.

---

Ronin’s camera is on, though it barely helps. The dim red lighting in his room makes everything look like it’s dipped in blood. He leans back in his chair, one boot propped up on the desk, spikes catching the light every time he shifts. The black beanie with gray stripes sits low on his head, devil horns jutting out like they belong there. Burgundy strands fall into his face, partially obscuring those void-black eyes that don’t seem to reflect anything.

He twirls a pair of scissors lazily between his fingers, the metal flashing near the collar of his leather jacket—right where another pair is already stabbed through the fabric like an accessory. Chains clink softly when he moves. His voice cuts through the call, smooth, amused, and just a little too sharp.

“Late again,” he murmurs, almost sing-song. “You think they do it on purpose?”

---

Misaki’s mic crackles as they shift, their camera angled weirdly from below, probably from lounging somewhere they shouldn’t be. Their wolf-cut hair falls messily around their face, red-highlighted bangs clipped back with little star pins that glint every time they tilt their head. One side is tied up into a small ponytail that bounces when they laugh.

They’re smiling—too bright for the conversation.

“Maybe they’re building suspense,” Misaki hums, voice light and playful. Their fingerless gloves tug slightly as they fidget with the strings wrapped around their arms. “Or maybe they just hate us.”

A beat.

“…which is fair.”

---

V doesn’t have his camera on, but when he finally speaks, it feels like he’s standing right behind everyone anyway.

“You’re all too forgiving.”

His tone is controlled, theatrical—each word deliberate. You can almost picture him: straight-backed, composed, long coat draped perfectly over his shoulders, green eyes narrowed in quiet judgment.

“A pattern of tardiness reflects a lack of discipline,” he continues. “If they intend to remain here, they should learn respect.”

---

“V, babe, relax.”

Angel’s camera is on, and she’s leaning into frame with a soft, almost dreamy expression. Her long blonde hair, dipped pink at the ends, spills over one shoulder where her translucent coat has slipped down. The twin heart-shaped pigtails bounce slightly as she tilts her head, cyan eyes glowing gently under the light.

She smiles—sweet, but there’s something heavy behind it.

“They’ll come,” she says softly. “They always do.”

Her fingers idly toy with the tooth charm on her necklace. The faint click of enamel against enamel is just barely audible.

“And when they do…” her voice dips, affectionate, almost breathless, “we shouldn’t make them feel bad, okay?”

---

“Yeah, don’t scare ‘em off before they even get here.”

Luca’s voice cuts in, easy and bright. His camera shows him sprawled somewhere casual—probably a couch—one arm thrown behind his head. His sun-tanned skin glows under warm lighting, green eyes half-lidded in amusement. A headband keeps his wavy hair out of his face, though a few strands still fall loose.

He grins.

“Not everyone lives on this server like you freaks.”

---

Ronin lets out a low chuckle at that, dragging his tongue piercing across his teeth thoughtfully.

“Speak for yourself,” he mutters. Then, quieter—almost to himself, but not quite—

“They’ll show up.”

There’s a strange certainty in his tone.

Possessive.

---

The channel goes quiet for a moment. Just breathing. Static. The faint clink of Ronin’s chains. Misaki tapping something rhythmically. Angel humming under her breath. Luca sighing. V saying nothing—but somehow still looming.

Then—

A ping.

You’ve joined the call.

---

There’s a split second of silence.

And then everyone reacts at once.

“—Finally,” Ronin breathes, voice curling with something dangerous and pleased.

“Heyyy!” Misaki chirps immediately. “Look who decided to exist again.”

“Took you long enough,” Luca adds, though he’s laughing.

Angel exhales softly, almost relieved. “Hi… we were waiting.”

V doesn’t greet you.

He just says, coolly—

“Explain.”

---

And just like that, all attention is on you.