Provocation
Enjoy the fruits of boredom. And my knowledge of guns is a bit off. Dedicated to all those slackers out there (like me) for no apparent reason at all.
Only the desk lamp on, while making modifications to that handgun I gave him five years ago. Is he afraid someone will actually see him working for once?
Hidden within the shadows of Dietrich's small personal laboratory, Isaak marveled at his subordinate. The bench in the corner by the (open) window, the one which always had a glint of moonlight streaking across the wood. Here Dietrich sat on a filing cabinet (the chair was broken two nights ago…), handling the firearm by the tips of his fingers. Unfired rounds, five of them, sat near the window sill while another rested on the floor. Currently, the puppet master was doing some work on the barrel of his handgun.
What could it need? Surely that thing is good enough as it is for ripping through flesh.
Dietrich had in one hand a fine pair of silver tweezers, which he inserted into the barrel. Extracting them, Isaak saw a sliver of some form of metal.
Using the wrong ammunition again?
Setting down the barrel, Dietrich now inspected the six chambers of his weapon. Quietly, he went about his work, removing several shiny splinters and setting them to one side. He didn't bother to repair the holes left within the body of the gun. Instead he now turned attention to the trigger and butt of the gun. Inspecting them for a brief moment, he then sat with a finger between his lips. Isaak watched him rise from his filing cabinet and walk in his direction.
I thought this camouflage worked remarkably well on Terran eyesight.
But the marrionettenspieller said not a word. As he reached for the handle of a cabinet, Isaak help up his arms and slid his waist into the corner to avoid Dietrich's hand. The cabinet slid open, and Dietrich bent down onto his knees, perusing its contents.
I wonder how he came across all of these strange things…Or did he create them himself?
Half-blindly plunging his hand into the mess, the puppet master drew something from the darkest corner of the cabinet. It was a small velvet pouch. Rising, Dietrich kicked the cabinet door back into place. Isaak relaxed from his position, and he felt his arms sting as blood returned to them. Dietrich sauntered back towards his desk and the light.
So what do you have in there? Delicious secrets?
The puppet master breathed a heavy sigh as he sat down. To actually get down and do what needed to be done sapped every bit of energy from his slim body. The trigger and the butt awaited their new modifications, but just as he was about to open the pouch Dietrich gasped. He rose out off his filing cabinet and headed back towards the corner in which Isaak was standing invisible.
Oh my, forgetting things are we? Perhaps I should consider use-by dates next time I take a Terran on board.
Dietrich had reached the corner and was staring down at the cabinet he had opened but a minute earlier. Isaak stood once again with his arms raised and waist to the side. The puppet master let out another sigh…and swung his shiny black boot upwards into the sensitive areas of his master.
"HOLY SHIT! Aaah…aah…" Isaak was undoubtedly surprised, "how did you know I was here?"
"Ahahaha!" Dietrich leaned forward, taking Isaak's chin into his hand, "Your cigar smoke. You could make a living as a walking bordello."
Such talk and actions should not go unpunished…Walking bordello you say?
"So tell me, what is in that velvet?"
"A secret. A secret that acknowledges me and only me. Once I implant a little into that gun, the only person able to handle it will be myself. Anyone it doesn't recognize will soon have the small problem of being on fire. Quite a nasty surprise for anyone wanting me disarmed don't you think?"
I have a nasty surprise for you too.
"I suppose you don't remember me telling you to never leave yourself unarmed." Isaak wrapped his hands around Dietrich's head, his fingernails clawing underneath brown hair to draw blood from his scalp. "Let's laugh. Come on. Giggle a little."
"Ah…haha…." Dietrich trailed off. His confidence had just taken long-service leave.
"That was pathetic. Give me a lovely hearty laugh. Go on…"
"Aha…Ahahaha…HAHAHA!!" Dietrich's eyes were wide open and fully dilated, and each laugh came out cracked and broken, as if someone had stuck a grater down his throat and he enjoyed it.
"That's excellent my boy!" Isaak loosened one of his hands, and slapped the puppet master on the cheek. He shrieked, and rivulets of warm blood coursed down onto his neck.
"What the fuck was that for?! Why were you in here anyway?! Let me get back to my fucking gun!!"
Isaak swung around and pinned the puppet master onto the cabinets. One hand unbuttoned Dietrich's shirt so his pale chest was bared. By now he was positively scared, but the only thing he could do was swing his hips in a futile hula dance. The pieces of hand gun sat on the table watching with an intense curiosity as to what was happening to their owner.
"Why am I here? Why else but for you?" A cold, cold hand slipped down the back of Dietrich's trousers, "You are the most fascinating student. One who hardly ever applies what is learnt, but never ceases to amaze me. There is still a lot to learn of you, and I intend to observe everything, and…experiment, to bring forth what you hide from me".
"Experiment?...Oh shi-" Dietrich was cut short by the crush of fangs into his mouth. Each drowning kiss pulled on the edges of the scratches on his cheek, breaking the scabbed edges and mixing blood into saliva. The hand around his posterior tightened its grip as the magician pressed him to the wall, but soon they were on the floor, with Dietrich falling out of his pants…
On the floor below Dietrich's laboratory, Radu Barvon and Helga von Vogelweide were engaged in idle chat.
"Radu, what do you think Dietrich would be doing right now?"
"Why do you ask? I'd say fixing that pistol of his."
"Are you sure?...You might want to put your ear to this air vent…"
Oh my...a 'conveniently' placed air vent...I bet this is the last time they commission a fan girl to design the Rosencreutz headquarters.