HALF HEARTED CHRONICLES
As told by MattiTheWizard
PART I
Prologue
The bat who was most known for his enormous wings, namely Mattheus Griffin, sat on a couch and stared into a wall.
This was something he found himself doing a lot lately, for no reason whatsoever. As he blankly rested his eyes on the brick palisade separating him from the above world, the body of an echidna walked past him and broke his attention. He shook his head and looked around.
"Dammit, Andy. Can't you see I'm counting bricks here?" Even though this was a lie, at least it settled Matt's worry for his own mental health.
"Didn't mean to disturb ya, dude." Andy said, without turning around.
Matt shifted his look back to the wall, but didn't feel like staring anymore so he stood up and walked over to the kitchen where Andy was.
This was Utopia. Though not exactly a big, flourishing city, but definitely a safe haven for Matt and his crew.
Utopia was a set of rooms matching a small apartment in size, the only difference being the fact that it was hidden in the unorganizable sewers beneath Station Square.
It consisted of 3 bedrooms, a kitchen/living room and a bathroom. Here was the place where the three people calling themselves "The Lawbreakers" ran their business.
Their "business" consisted of being called in when someone needed to get killed or interrogated or just plain forced to obedience by higher powers.
They could, for example, get hired by one drug lord to pick off a certain cop or rivaling lord and get tons of cash and/or different sedatives as payment.
Of course, this caused a lot of police activity and other hitmen hired to kill them, so Utopia was always the place to go when you needed to lose some heat, as it was completely impossible to locate unless you knew where it was.
"Dude, where are you?" Andy asked, snapping his fingers in front of Matt's face.
"I just thought about how practical it is to have Utopia." Matt responded, pulling a beer from the fridge and opening it with his fanged teeth.
"Yeah, I know." Andy agreed, leaning over a counter. "Remember how it was before? In your apartment?"
"Heh, yeah..." Matt snickered.
"Heard anything from Nike?"
"Nah, but he'll be here anytime. He never leaves a job half-done you know." Matt said, taking a swig of beer.
"Got that right." Andy agreed again, running a hand through the loose blond half of his hair. The other half consisted of long black dreadlocks.
Before they could bring up another subject for discussion, the door swung open and a dark green hedgehog stormed in. His hair was sweaty and covered his eyes, indicating that he was in quite a hurry.
They helped him shove the door back in place and stood in silence, waiting for whoever was following Nike to realize that he was gone and give up.
It took about ten minutes before Matt broke the silence.
"How'd it go?" He said, throwing Nike a towel which he happily accepted.
"Just fine!" Nike yelled, tearing his shirt off. "Everything went fuckin' MERRILY!"
"Dude, calm down." Andy said, narrowly dodging a sweaty t-shirt.
"Sorry, I'm just a little agitated." Nike explained. "Damn cops had me in an ambush. Got my target, though." Nike cracked his knuckles.
Matt smirked, picturing the face of the poor guy Nike had gotten to.
"Time to celebrate, eh?" Andy stated, opening a drawer and excavating a bag of... something?
"Something new?" Matt asked, examining the gold-ish powder in Andy's bag.
"You bet. Nicked it at the zoo." Andy smiled, carefully drawing three lines of powder on the counter. "They mix it in the food to calm wild specimen."
"How big?" Nike asked, approaching his two friends.
"Think elephants." Andy said, making all three of them cackle like idiots. "Well, it's-a one and two and THREE!"
They snorted it all at the same time and looked at each other's faces as they began to deform.
"Nike, your nose is consuming Andy. Stop that would ya?" Matt asked, reaching out and grabbing Nike, only to feel him vaporizing at his touch.
"Damn, this is STRONG, man!" He heard Nike yelling before changing form and becoming a platypus. Meanwhile, on an island in the far east, Andy was playing the ukulele with his elbows.
After that it all got foggy...
--
Matt dreamt that the phone rang. He ignored it, because he was too busy watching eight ladies made of clouds striptease in front of him. But the phone kept on being persistent, so he finally decided to open his eyes and notice that he had fallen asleep with his head in the microwave.
With a hangover the size of Mt. Everest, he reached for the receiver.
"Vinnie's cleaning, this is Matt." He answered. On the other end someone yapped about needing his suit waxed, or at least that's what it sounded like. Matt rubbed his sore head.
"Really? Too bad we closed at nine." Matt explained and hung up. He looked at his watch. The long
one was pointing at eleven and the small one towards twelve.
He sighed and started making coffee, but was abrupted by the phone again.
"Café Riccola, we bake 'em, you eat 'em. What can I get you?" He answered. His tired face tightened up when he heard the familiar password that meant a serious customer was one the line.
"Please hold, I'll patch you through." He said in his best secretary voice as he removed the phone from his ear, cleared his throat and put it back, this time with a serious, dark tone.
"Lawbreakers, this is Matt." He asked while claiming some pen and paper, should he need to take notes. "Uh huh, OK." He scribbled down name and address, as well as payment and drop point.
"That all? Right. Have a good day, you bad person." He said, slamming the phone back on the counter.
He read through his notes again.
"Looks easy enough." He thought, pouring himself a cup of morning fuel. This seemed like a very routine job, he could see it playback in his head. "Go in, kill people, get money, buy beer."
He finished his cup and took a few painkillers for the hangover, then fetched a brush. His shaggy dark hair was truly in need of some care, but now all it got was the usual torture.
Before he left, he wrote a message for Nike and Andy below what he wrote before.
Gone killing. I'll buy dinner. Nice stuff yesterday, Andy! /Matt
--
He got out of Utopia and into The Lawbreakers collective car, an old Ford Mustang. Inside he drove off to find himself a suitable diner and get some grub.
"Never kill on and empty stomach." He said aloud, while slamming a CD into the car stereo. After a few seconds "Mr. Government Man" by Europe filled the car with pumping beats and wailing guitars as Matt sang along and kept rolling along the road this sunny day.
A small while later he noticed a familiar blue hedgehog and his child sitting by a table outside a restaurant. The older on had a large beard and looked contet, sipping an espresso and reading the newspaper.
"I guess it's been quite a while." Matt smiled to himself as he pulled over and parked a bit away.
He walked up to this man and sat down on the opposite chair.
"Well, well. Look who's up." The hedgehog taunted, smirking.
"I'm surprised you got out of bed this morning, old man." Matt retorted, smirking as well. "Hey Kevin." Matt said, nodding at the hedgehog's son, who was sitting beside his father drinking a cola.
Kevin waved lightly in response and returned to his drink.
Matt ordered a chi'ken sandwich and pulled out his cigarettes.
"I thought you quit smoking." The father said.
"I did." Matt said, lighting it and taking a puff. "I started again."
"You know that's gonna ruin you someday. Smokers don't get as many job opportunities either."
Matt pondered what it would be like if everybody knew he freelanced as a hitman. The official story is that Matt is unemployed, you see. That explains the vast amount of free time he has.
"I guess." Matt said, trying to enjoy the last part of his cancer stick before flicking it away.
"Thanks. If you don't mind, try to not do that while he's around." He jerked a thumb at his kid.
"How's the wife?" Matt changed subjects, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"Well, wife's happy, I guess..." There was a short pause before he continued. "Kevin's beginning sixth grade this autumn."
"Oh yeah. I totally forgot he was twelve." Matt spoke through a mouthful, snickering at Kevin's angry face. He hated when you joked about his age.
"Did you know that he can run as fast as his father?" The father laughed.
"Really now?" Matt said. "How fast can you go?" He asked the kid.
"I can run faster than most cars." Kevin smiled. "Even some trains."
"If you train hard..." Matt began , leaning closer. "Maybe someday... You can go sonic speed!"
"Yeah!" Kevin exclaimed, falling off his seat and getting back up in a flash.
All the while, the father smiled contently.
"I think I'll call you that." Matt said to Kevin. "From now on, I'll call you Sonic."
"That's a nice nickname." His father said.
"Remember yours, eh? Blitz?" Matt smirked at Blitz, who blushed slightly.
"They called you Blitz, dad?" "Sonic" asked.
His father only laughed heartily.
"What's your nickname, Matt?" Sonic questioned.
Matt thought for a while. "Actually, I don't have one."
"Then I'll call you... Uhh..." Sonic searched the depths of his mind, but only came up with one good name.
"I'll call you Matt the Bat. 'Cuz that's what you are."
Matt smiled. He had gotten a nickname. Suddenly, he felt a sting in his chest, which reminded him that he had an appointment. His smile immediately dropped.
"Look, I gotta go." He said. "Thanks for the company."
He waved goodbye to Sonic and Blitz and got into his car. On the way to North Park, he emptied his mind, not leaving a single thought.
As he pulled into the given driveway, Matt sighed loudly, counted to three and started a stopwatch.
Six minutes and 21 seconds later he came back out and stopped the watch.
"New record." He muttered to himself as he drove away.
--
Notes:
This isn't my first fan-fiction, tough it IS my first submitted one.
It is based on a couple of mine (and my friend's) unfinished story projects, I just decided to try and patch things up a little.
Personally, I think I could've done this a lot better and I might pull it down it you reviewers don't like it. I am, however, going to revise chapter 1 before posting it, so expect a slight gap if you liked it.
Conclusively, I humbly request to to REVIEW. I need some feedback, or I can't possibly make it any better. Well, maybe I can, but you know.
See you all soon.