Tusk

Hey, first proper Skulduggery fic. There's probably gonna be a lot of mistakes, usually when I'm telling you what Skul & Val are doing. And yes, the main character is a bad guy so don't get all angry bout it. Believe me, its happened before...

Disclaimer: Skulduggery Pleasant and all concepts related to him belong to Derek Landy. Other unknown characters are property of Vampire Omega.

Andrew Tusk sat across the table from Skulduggery Pleasant, an odd smile on his face. They had been staring at each other like this for a while now, and Andrew was determined not to lose his nerve, especially against a sanctuary detective. Andrew tall and slim, bony with a hint of plumpness. His brown hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in several years, sticking out in all directions. He had a blue shirt, black jacket, red jeans, and black boots. He was slouching in his chair feet resting on the table, and he had no inclination to move. His long, spindly fingers, grimy and unwashed, hung below him, gripping the chair legs loosely.

"Now, Mr. Tusk, I understand you're in jail for numerous accounts of murder." Murmured the Skeleton Detective wisely. "I wish to know why you killed all those people."

Andrew grinned. He couldn't help it, just the memory of those deaths... It made him shudder with anticipation. He hooked a curved nail under his index fingernail, clawing out the dirt. "Well, Mr. Pleasant." Andrew replied thoughtfully. His voice had an odd ring to it, as if it were something you could remember, just couldn't quite place. "You see, they owed me favours. And when they didn't pay back those favours, weeelll... You know the rest."

Andrew was proud of his accent. Not Irish, not British, nor Scottish. No, Andrew had no loyalty, not even to the American Sanctuary. No, all he wanted was to be a free man, and live somewhere warm. Like Australia. Or maybe he'd go to Rio. Andrew pondered that, never mind that he probably wasn't going to be free ever again. Suddenly, Andrew became aware that the girl, Valkyrie Cain, was talking to him. A mere girl, talking to a great murderer like him? Preposterous. However, Andrew had noticed the Necromancy ring on her finger. Andrew himself had considered becoming a Necromancer himself, once upon a time. He had eventually decided against, partly because it took years to become a master and he wasn't that patient, and partly because he got bored and killed his mentor. That wasn't an easy thing, either. It had involved a lot of screaming, and struggling.

"So what you're saying, Andrew Tusk," The girl in black said. "IIs that you killed all those people because they wouldn't pay their debts?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying, Darquesse." As Andrew uttered the last word, Cain stepped back in shock. Andrew's smile grew wider. "Oh, you didn't think we knew? Oh yes, girly, everyone on the streets knows your big secret. Not such a secret now, is it?"

Cain's eyes hardened. Andrew could see her tightly clenched fist, shadows whipping angrily around it. Tusk smiled some more. He just loved to rile people up. No street person knew, of course. Some kid who had been there at the big display had told him. Afterwards, Andrew had killed him, for the simple fun of it. Cain grew even angrier at his nonchalance, drawing back her fist as if to punch him. As Andrew examined the ring, he remembered fondly his own weapon. It had been a double-ended trident which he could use to send spears of shadow around. He had always loved that thing.

Skulduggery placated her and turned back to Andrew. He told Tusk that he would be put into a cell in the Gaol. Andrew responded with a mere wry grin. Skulduggery and Cain escorted him to his cell, which was next to one containing a tattooed, bare chested man with a big moustache and a bald head. Andrew ignored it all, smiling into space. Cain gave him a little shove into the cave and slammed the door with an ominous thud.

"Come on now honey." Andrew said. "I don't deserve to be in a cell. I oughta be a free man, relaxing on a sun bed in the Caribbean."

"You deserve," Cain yelled. "To be dead and buried, rotting underground, somewhere cold."

Andrew smiled. He knew they couldn't keep him in there for long. Not him, not the Tusk, no way could they keep him in there for longer than a month. At the very most, he'd be out of there in a week. Boy, how wrong Andrew was.

Okay, so it was kind of a filler chapter, you know, telling the background. Apart from that, how'd I do? Not brilliant, I know, but you know what I mean.

Peace out

V.O.