Def Function "Kill": Security Breach x Reader

-NON CANON?- Birthday.

The sounds of buzzing lights and people's chatter filled the air along with clinking silverware on plates varying from squeaky clean to dirty and greasy.

Many people sat at tables and talked as they ate as waiters walked around taking orders, and delivering said orders to hungry customers. A certain person stood in the corner of the room however and overlooked the people enjoying themselves.

White top uniform with his name plastered on a small pin, black cargo pants that he's required to wear by the company, as are all security staff, and a hat with "Security" stitched on it.

He seemed to just be a normal security officer, but his eyes looked dull and his expression was dreary as he watched other have fun and mingle. He left his spot after a few minutes and walked past the waiters, through the kitchen, but took a right instead of the usual left to exit the kitchen.

This room he entered hadn't seemed to be used in ages and gave off the vibe of a storage area, but he walked towards the table sat in the middle of the room. The only light in the room came from candles already scattered about, providing mood lighting to the dark, dusty room.

The room was dead silent.

There was a chair on both sides of the table, and a nice white table cloth covered the oak table. The most noticeable object being the cake sitting on a medium sized plate in the center of the table. Two additional plates sat on each side of the table along with all three pieces of silverware.

The cake itself was frosted white with red trim around the base and top edge. There was enough space for someone to write on the top of the cake, and write the man shall.

The man grabbed a larger knife sat on a box along the way to the table. The knife looked more like a machete than anything else, but he strode over to the table and stared down at the cake with no writing.

Time to fix that.

Gripping the handle of the machete in his right hand he reached up to meet the blade with his left and squeezed the blade. The man's expression didn't change as his blood ran down the blade and dripped onto the floor. He'd have to clean up all dripped blood or risk being fired if other staff found it.

After a minute of squeezing the blade he let go as he stared at the pond of blood in his hand before beginning to carve into his own hand a bit more for good measure, but he almost seemed. . .too. . .into it. . .and dipped his right finger into his own blood after setting the blade down onto the table's edge. Blood stained his white, security uniforms sleeves and he figured he'd have to cover that up when he's back on shift.

He began to write on the cake in his own blood, finger never wavering as he dragged it across the pearly white icing, and tainting it with his murky blood. Letters turned into words as he took a few moments to dip his finger back into the pool of blood in his left as if it was a ink pot, and his right pointer finger being the quill.

Eventually it was done, and he took a step back to oversee his work before walking a few feet away from the table and over to a bucket to dump his blood in. It sploshed as it fell into the water filled bucket and tinted the water red.

The writing on the cake now being visible to anyone who would have been watching, but nobody except he was there.

"Happy Birthday Sammuel"

The man now known as "Sammuel" brung a dirty, wet cloth with him back to the table and wrapped the rag around his deep cut. Sam sat down into one of the chairs and swung his legs under the table to disappear under the tablecloth.

His head hung forward a tad before resting it in his right hand. Looking down upon his work. . .it brought a ghost of a smile to his lifeless face, for if one looked into his eyes they would notice both being clouded by thoughts.

Snapping out of said thoughts took a few minutes before he lifted his head from his right hand and used his right hand to grab the cake cutter.

Before he cut into to the cake he said one thing,

". . .what do you think about my work sis?"

His eyes locked onto a battered, worn out old bandana sitting on the table, but this was definitely not here a moment ago. The bandana was gold in color and had small spots of deep, dark red, obviously not meant to be there.

Sammuel began to cut into the cake as he said only one more thing.

"happy birthday."

He was about to put a slice on his plate, but a ringing sounded from his shirt pocket just above his heart. He halted halfway through picking up the slice before setting it back down and taking a small device out of the aforementioned pocket and it seemed to just be a timer.

He's out of time.

Sammuel sighed and got up from his seat and pushed his chair back in before walking out of the room and taking the golden bandana with him. One item stayed on the table as he straightened his uniform and left the room.

An item sat on the table, and was only illuminated by the candles around the room. It was a mask. Narrow yellow eyes with small slits in them to see out of, a black pointed nose, and a grin filled with sharp, pointed teeth. A large cut ran across the left eye socket of the mask. A black strap was laid behind it, and seemed to be for wear.

The candles went out all at once and the room was once again enveloped in darkness.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  -  - - - - - - - -  - - - - -

Why did I write this non canon chapter you ask?

It's my birthday, and I wanted to ask you guys a question.

Would you mind if I included this new character into the story?

What role would Sammuel the security guard play in this story? You'll find out if ya vote.

Just vote in the comments yes or no.

I also wrote this because I'm bored on my Birthday. Tee hee =)

With much appreciation for all of you lovely readers.     -Sorin

P.S. I was originally gonna try and add Sorin to this story, but look how the bardock story turned out. Ugh.