Infinite Universes Never Ending
 
HomeHome  FAQFAQ  SearchSearch  MemberlistMemberlist  UsergroupsUsergroups  RegisterRegister  Log inLog in  Chatbox  

Share | 
 

 Just a Breath of Fresh Air

Go down 
AuthorMessage
whilaroo

avatar

Posts : 130
Join date : 2009-12-24
Location : I'm in Brooklyn on a Halloween night...

PostSubject: Just a Breath of Fresh Air   Tue Nov 30, 2010 9:20 pm

The empty street was almost home to the woman, even though it was about twelve midnight, and some would say she would freeze to death. Liana, or Lia, as most call her, loved to be alone it was just her way of recouping from the stress of every day life. She had been under a lot of stress lately, which, made the little walk through the night more enjoyable even for the creepiness of complete silence. She thought it was odd no dog barking, no sound of wind, or flying creature of any kind, but she wasn't about to complain at one of her favorite things.

The burglar had made off with a killing tonight, two banks in one day is unheard of. He started down the path hoping to reach the small town of Honem. His only thought was that if he didn't make it in time he might have to stay on the ground for another night which he would not stand for.

Lia walked as slow as anyone could or at least it seemed so with the world stopped around her. She was just about home when she heard the gate of the town squeak, as it did when the farmers returned every evening. She thought it was odd, someone coming this late at night, especially because they never had visitors in this town. A small man with a large, jingling sack slumped over his back walked through the gates of Honem. Slowly, he latched them shut again. At the sight of the small man, Lia's heart almost stopped. She couldn't keep her eyes off of the mechanical arm which protruded from is cloak. Eyes still locked upon the apparition, Lia quietly followed the man at just a distance so that he did not notice her.

"Why would we ever give you a free drink?" the owner of the inn asked. "Well I though it would be a goo- " the miscreant never finished his sentence because a man barged through the door and yelled, "all drinks on me!" Revolving upon his stool, the smooth-talking individual situated by the bar turned to look upon his salvation. "I think I'm in love," the words left his lips before he had really gotten a clear view of the newcomer, which wasn't really necessary, considering that his primary value was not in physical appearance but rather the weight of his wallet. Upon review, that particular item was found to be rather larger than most wallets, and quite well stocked indeed. Tonight, the denizens of this seedy little pub would be drowning themselves in the alcoholic nectar withheld just behind the bar at the back of the room, and there would be plenty of coinage to spare otherwise.

The philanthropic gentleman marched himself up to the bartender, allowing his burden to fall onto the counter with a heavy clinking of coins. "Milk," he said in a gruff way as he deposited himself upon one of the stools with a certain amount of abandon. "Excuse me?" the bartender looked a little baffled by the statement. It hadn't been a statement. "Get me a glass of milk, on the double," the man began to reach beneath his cloak, a sharp serious of metallic clicks could be heard. The man behind the bar rushed to comply, looking perhaps more flustered than he should have. Of course, he had learned to put on a fairly good act over the years for just such customers. Being that he didn't get many wealthy or even paying patrons very often, he figured it would be best not to remove the shotgun from beneath the counter and threaten the only real money he had seen in some time out of the establishment. The glass rammed into the counter's top with a force that would rattle a man's bones. "Make it tall!" the demand was made, and so was the drink made tall.

When the frothy white liquid was overflowing from the glass, the man grabbed it up into his rough,worn hand and through it back all at once, which generally ended in it it splashing all over his face, clothes, and even a little bit landed inside his gullet as intended. "Again," he rammed the glass into the bar once more. It was either going to break or leave some serious dents. Yet, since he had taken hold of the drink, not a person in the joint, save himself, had moved even an inch. They were all frozen, even the aforementioned miscreant, and the newcomer, a lady by the looks of it, staring at the appendage which heralded from beneath his cloak. He noticed the bartender's eyes first, and then slowly turned, realizing that were eyes sunbeams, he would be well tanned at that very moment. "What's the matter?" he asked in a jovial, if not dangerous, way, "This old thing bothering ya?" As he spoke he lifted the arm high, the clink of mechanics working together to simulate muscle contractions and relaxations was accompanied by a hiss of steam. The room remained dead silent.

"I would choose the one town..." he muttered to himself but did not finish his statement. "You'll want to be leaving now, I expect," it was the bartender's voice, but when he turned, it was the muzzle of a shotgun that nearly removed his eye, staring him down. The noise of it snapping together was that hideous ratchet which would make lesser men soil themselves. The short fellow allowed his bag of coins to slowly fall to the floor, making the floorboards jump with a resounding clink. All the mirth was gone from his face now, and from his voice as he spake thus, "You don't want to be doing that, my friend. Put the stick down, and let's dogs just play and make merry and forget this nonsense." The man at the other end of the firearm had a different idea, easing his finger onto the trigger. "You can either leave of your own free will, or when I have two o' these blokes carry you out," he was firm. "Oh, it'll take a lot more than just two of 'em," the dark smile which colored the face and voice alike of the short man were ghastly, but not nearly as inhuman as the speed with which he spun, forcing the business end of the gun towards the ceiling. It discharged, the poor bartender shocked into pulling the trigger. The force blew him down, staggering him and throwing his aim to the birds. Immediately, a group of semi-drunk individuals attempted to grab the man, all to no avail. Despite their obvious advantage in height and weight, none could stand up against the faster, more furious fiend and his mechanical contraption of an arm. He didn't kill them, most of them, but one or two may have had their heads crushed by the objects into which he threw them. Otherwise, he settled himself with a more gentle and sadistic approach, such as pulverization of limbs or vital organs.

The sound of the gun being reloaded was audible as another man bit the dust and a sizable amount of splinters. The thieving, anomalously armed man spun and froze to allow his mind time to catch up with the situation. It was a fatal error. A gunshot rang out. He cringed as he looked down, already fully aware of what he would see. The blood eked out of a place right about where his heart should be. A wet gasp escaped his mouth though he tried to bite it down. Instinct brought his metallic fingers to the wound and they were quickly covered with the thick red soup meant to keep him alive. His eyes came up, searching for the culprit, as if he could accuse the bullet which had not stayed inside of him for the injury. His eyes met the barrel of the shotgun once more, unfired. Powder lit and there was a terrible flash. The thief was laid low amidst the pile of his carnage. His lifeless body remained to add his blood to mix with that of the men he had injured while his spirit scampered off to some dark corner of the afterlife. The sound of hard breathing could be heard. Lia slumped against the wall, he revolver still smoked from the barrel's end. The bartender caught her eye with his own wild expression. He nodded his thanks. She could only breath in gasps of air to keep from suffering from the shock of it all. The man slowly place his own gun on the counter, and made his way over to her. Wrapping a still shaky arm around her shoulder, he supported her to a chair, "Perhaps I can get you something to drink, Ma'am?"
Back to top Go down
View user profile
 
Just a Breath of Fresh Air
Back to top 
Page 1 of 1

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Infinite Universes Never Ending :: Development Section :: Random Lone Writing-
Jump to: