Hello dear reader! Hope you enjoy this story, don't know if I'll continue it yet. I don't think I really like it. I uploaded it and now, re-reading it, the story seems...meh. So heeeere we go...
~w~
The town's people looked like ants from his smoky room. Colorful, little ants. Weak and easily manipulated. He chuckled gruffly to himself, lighting a cigarette before taking a long lung filling pull from it. Something about this quant little town made him feel all powerful, like a king amongst commoners. His hellish reptile-like eyes searched the sky for the weather. Dark purple and cloudy skies with golden speckles here and there- the stars. He hated this planet, where the skies looked the same no matter what- be it raining or not. He chided himself for looking. He also hated the fact that the landscape was so inhospitable that he couldn't camp outside like he usually would. But he'd hit almost every city on the forsaken planet and would soon be leaving. There was a rattling in the street that drew his attention back down. A hoverwagon…no, a hover carriage and a fancy one at that. He marked its direction and speed with exact precision, a wicked smirk creeping onto his face. Stubbing the cigerette out on the dusty window pane, he turned to get dressed.
It was beginning to rain as the hover carriage ghosted around a particularly sharp turn from forested roads to a bare straightaway. The driver yawned before snapping the reigns to the team of orange and gold electri-horses. He'd been driving since 2:30 this morning and the next town—the destination—was an hour away. His cargo was important and the pay he would be receiving for his troubles would be worth it. The intercom in his ear buzzed before a voice came over clear, "How is it out there? Would you like to stop?" The driver pondered the questions before answering, "No, I'm all right." Though his "cargo" was one of those rich, highborn type, she was considerate to him. She often asked if he would like to stop and rest. The road ahead was clear, uneventful with the lights in of the next city blinking in the far distance. The rain decided to come down harder, forcing the driver to swipe vigourously at his eyes. When he'd removed his hand, he noticed something different. There, in the quickly lessening distance, was a tall figure atop sleak, black galaxy hubless hover-cycle trimmed in an eery maroon electricity that seemed to rise off the bike like wicked fire. Apprehensive, the driver slowed the electri-horses to turn back but was too late.
Eyebrows raised in growing fear as the driver thought, "No, it couldn't be him. He was dead, it was all over the news!" However, the legendary bike grumbled to life, the outline becoming brighter and more pronounced. It seemed to float towards them in slow motion and before the driver knew it, it was upon them. "Well, Ho there!" The figure drawled in a gruff, whispery voice, bringing his cruiser to a stop in the way of the carriage. His voice had that sinister yet charming quality that sent more than shivers up and down one's spine. He kicked down the stand to his bike and sauntered up to the driver. His dark brown duster billowed out behind him in a small gust of wind and the wide brim of his well worn hat flipped crown of said hat looked to be surrounded by rusty barbed-wire. "Nasty night ain it? Where ya headed?" Beguiled by the polite talk, the driver answered, "Just headed up to the next town for a drop off." The stranger inspected the fingernails of his left hand. Though the light was dim, the driver could see that his hand and forearm were robotic; the machinery ended smoothly, seamlessly at his elbow. "Iz at so?" Before the driver could answer, a photon gatling gun was pointed dead between his eyes. Horrified, the driver looked down the barrel of the gun to see that it was where the stranger's robotic hand had been.
"I don't think you'll be gettin' there today, mate," the figure chuckled darkly before the air was filled with a harsh electric sound. The driver's body slumped over in the coach's seat, a charred, smoking gap between his shoulders where his head and neck had been. The driver disposed of, the figure headed to the door of the hover carriage and wrenched the door open. He was meet with three pairs of eyes: two sets belonged to guards and the third, a woman dressed in a long, wine red gown with a small trunk on her lap. "Stay back!" One of the gaurds commanded weakly, as both attempted to charge from the interior of the carriage. They met similair fates as the driver. "Now, Missus, hand over the chest," the figure demanded, gesturing with his gun. Raising her chin, the woman challenged him, "Take it and I'll have you hunted down and executed for theft and manslaughter." He leaned into the carriage and roughly tugged her out by her arm. The chest fell from her hands in her surprise and she looked up at him in anger. Tipping her chin up with his gun, he charged it lightly, the soundfilling the air with a "tweeeeek." "Darlin, do you know who I am?" He asked with a false pleasentry. Her brow furrowed as she cut her eyes from him. "Woman, I asked you a d**n question an' I s'pect an answer!" the figure half growled-half shouted. She began to lower her face but his hand around her throat stopped her chin from dropping any lower. With one fluent motion, he lifted her into the air, eyes glimming wickedly as the woman gagged. "I am Rattlesnake Jake come back from the dead! I'm the d**n Grim Reaper! I've dueled with the Devil 'imself and won! D'you honestly think that ya d**n threat scares me?!" He threw her back into the mud. Lightning flashed behind the tall, lean figure, highlighting his facial features. Her eyes widened as she recognized him. His face was tanned and rough looking but was smoothly handsome with neat side-burns and a sharp pencil mustache. His skin looked slightly scaly. Underneath his hat, his hair flowed long and slick, an odd mix of brown and black. It was braided in such a way that the colors made interesting diamond patterns. His eyes seemed to glow and dance like hellfire, a combination of gold flecked orange and red that one could only picture in a nightmare. The corneas were snake-like slits. Under his brown duster was a solid black tee; the collar covered by a scarlet bandana tied around his neck.
"Know me now?" he growled at her, snapping her out of her inspection. "I know you should be dead," she spat at him. He back handed her sharply across the mouth. Glaring away, she spied her trunk and quickly reached for it. His heavy boot stepped on her hand. "Don't be stupid, girl. I don't usually kill women like you but you and yer sass is sure temptin' me. This is mine now," Jake rumbled darkly, his voice musically gruff. After strapping the chest down on the back of his bike and then mounting it himself, he looked back at the woman on the muddy ground. "Pleasure doin business with ya." The sky let out a thunderous roar, sounding like demon's laughter. "Go to h*ll!" she screamed, rain drops mingling with her tears and mud seeping into her dress. Pointing at her with his gatling gun that smoothly morphed back into a robotic hand, he raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Girl,where you think I come from?" He laughed his wicked laugh before revving the hoverbike, peeling off in a little cloud of smoke.
Soon the woman was alone, bloody and dirty in the the middle of the road. Wiping the blood from her mouth, she stood shakily while pulling a walkie-talkie like telecomunicater from her sleeve. "B-bait..planted," she panted out through a blood filled mouth. There was a little static before, "Execellent. The plan will commence as arranged." Wiping the trickling blood away, she nodded and looked back at the wrecked carriage. "The innocent and the other operatives…are dead." The line chuckled. A small beeping noise went off and the hesitant but curious woman neared the carrage to inspect it. A bomb. "Operatives are expendable…As are you." There was no evidence.
Hello again, my dear, dear, DEAR reader. Didja like it? Please tell me in a lovely review. Let's me know you're not robots out there, monitoring me or something [/'-']/