Zacharie sat cross-legged beside his backpack on the mine floor beneath Shachihata. This was alright. A little darker than he preferred, sure, but not as dark as it could've been. At least the lights were working.
A 'ding' sound, and Zacharie scrambled to his feet as the elevator doors opened. The Batter stepped out, and moved towards him.
"Haha!" Zacharie laughed, "Need anything in particular?" He patted his backpack to accentuate the question. The Batter didn't answer.
Then Zacharie noticed something strange: The Batter's puppeteer wasn't there. Weird, he thought, that the Batter was roaming about without their supervision. He hadn't even been sure that was possible, before. Well, now it was one great mystery in his life solved.
"Why, Batter," Zacharie said, in mock surprise, "You appear to have misplaced your precious puppeteer! Where in the world did they go?"
"They're away, right now," the Batter replied.
Zacharie snickered. Oh, this was unbelievable! "Then what brings you all the way back here?" he asked. "One doesn't even need a brain to know that you can't progress without them."
"You," the Batter said.
"Me?"
"Your items," he said, "They cost too much."
Zacharie laughed so hard, he almost fell over. "Well, the game would be boring if I just handed everything to you, wouldn't it? Not to mention way too easy for any self-respecting player."
The Batter blinked. "I need the merchandise you carry to help me on my sacred quest," he said, "Your outrageous prices are an obstacle in my path. I need a discount." Ooh, he was using some of his fancy words, Zacharie noticed. The Batter was dead serious about this. A dead pity, since he was asking for the impossible.
"Sorry, my friend, I'm afraid I can't do that for you," Zacharie replied. "A lot like you, I have a set of rules that I must follow."
"This isn't up for debate," the Batter said, taking a step closer.
Zacharie frowned behind his mask, crossing his arms. "Believe me, Batter, I would if I could," he said, "You're the only business I get, because of what I'm required to charge."
"I need a discount," the Batter repeated.
"I can't give you one."
"I need a discount."
"And I can't give you one."
Suddenly, the Batter raised his bat, pointing it directly at the merchant's face. "You're going to give me a discount," he growled. Zacharie didn't flinch. So, thievery was too low an act for the Batter to commit, but intimidating innocents wasn't? That was just great to know.
Zacharie nudged the business end of the bat away from himself with a finger. "You know, you'll never get anywhere in your sacred quest, if you keep being so rude to people like that," he said. The Batter's free hand shot out and violently grabbed the front of Zacharie's shirt in its fist.
Zacharie yelped and twisted out of the Batter's grip, jumping backwards. If there was one thing he wasn't used to, it was being touched. Especially in an unpleasant fashion. Zacharie regarded the Batter for a second; his four, cherry-red eyes flashed, and his teeth, all sharp, were bared in a snarl. He stalked forwards when Zacharie regained his balance.
Zacharie hurried for the exit, but the Batter cut him off with his bat, pushing him back into a wall. He grunted and tried to slip to the side, and the Batter quickly grabbed his right shoulder with his clawed hand to hold him still. Zacharie hissed angrily, shoving and pulling at the arm holding him, but was forced to stop as its grip on him tightened painfully hard.
The Batter towered over Zacharie, now cornered, casting a deep shadow over the smaller man. "Give me a discount, Zacharie," he demanded, his voice low and dark. Zacharie stood as straight and defiant as he could, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder.
"You can't make me," Zacharie said, almost scoldingly. This was stupid. One hit from the bat would render him unable to speak, much less do ridiculous things like lower his prices. Besides, the Batter needed him. He couldn't afford to kill or maim Zacharie. "Do your worst."
The Batter dropped his bat and snatched Zacharie's mask right off his face, tossing it aside. Zacharie froze. He felt soft and exposed without his mask on, like a hermit crab without a shell. The Batter stared, seizing Zacharie's chin and tilting his head up. Of course, there wasn't much to see, but he didn't have to look at him like he was boring.
Then, the Batter leaned in close and licked Zacharie's face, slowly trailing his tongue over his cheek. What the hell?! Zacharie thought, making a disgusted noise. The Batter's tongue was rough, like a cat's, probably covered in lots of sharp little hooks. The Batter drew back, and Zacharie glared at him. He wanted to say something, but didn't even know where to begin with this.
Zacharie saw the hand cupping his face shift. The Batter's fingertips moved closer, and as he realized what was about to happen, Zacharie found he couldn't make himself turn away. He hissed through his teeth as the Batter's claws dragged across the side of his face, cutting deep gashes into his cheek.
The Batter leaned in again, once more running his tongue over the now-lacerated flesh. The wounds were fresh and bleeding, and the Batter sucked and licked at them eagerly. Zacharie bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out. The claws had hurt an awful lot, and the Batter's harshly-textured tongue aggravated the cuts even further.
Zacharie tried to push the Batter away, again, to no avail. He was only squished harder into the corner. He couldn't get the Batter's body to budge in the slightest; it was like trying to bend a wall. Zacharie could see that the Batter's eyes were closed, his expression far too relaxed as he continued to defile the side of Zacharie's face.
Eventually, the Batter pulled away, terribly slowly. His lips tugged the ruined skin of Zacharie's cheek before the seal between it and his mouth popped, and he stared down at Zacharie with lidded eyes.
Zacharie scowled at him. Disgusting. Was this supposed to get him that damned discount he wanted so bad? He seemed to be enjoying it too much for it to have been just that. And even still, Zacharie couldn't lower his prices. That would ruin the balance of the world, go against its rules. There was a reason the Batter's mission was so challenging, and he wasn't about to go against it.
"I already told you, I can't give you a discount. It's impossible," Zacharie hissed. "Now stop making a mess."
The hand gripping Zacharie's shoulder squeezed even tighter, talons piercing his back like needles. The other hand reached around, grabbing Zacharie by the hair, and the Batter sank his daggerlike teeth into Zacharie's lower lip.
Zacharie cried out, this time. The pain was red-hot and throbbing. His eyes watered and a high-pitched whine came out of his throat as the Batter sucked on the new injury. He frantically shoved at the Batter again, but his body was still as strong and unyielding as iron. Zacharie couldn't even speak, with the Batter's mouth holding control over his.
Panic finally set in. Zacharie tried not to shake in the Batter's grip, and felt his heart beating way, way too fast. The Batter made a muffled, hum-like noise, letting go of Zacharie's head and instead grabbing his other shoulder. The Batter released Zacharie's lip and gasped, breathing hard and pressing him into the wall with his full weight. He again licked the cuts on Zacharie's cheek, then sucked hard at the blood that'd dripped down from them, grazing his jawline with his teeth.
Zacharie could only cling for dear life as the Batter trailed downwards. Those sharp teeth prickled against his throat, and that mouth sucked hard enough to bruise. The Batter's lips brushed over the pulse point of his neck, and Zacharie's heart nearly smashed through its ribcage.
He wouldn't. He needs me.
But the Batter's tongue lingered over the artery, and his jaws didn't loosen. His fingers eagerly pawed Zacharie's back, and Zacharie tried desperately to control his breathing. He felt like he was about to faint, but was terrified of the very real possibility that he'd never wake up. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't die. The Batter's teeth pressed keenly against his skin, too firm to be unintentional. Zacharie felt the Batter's jaw tightening, sharpness sinking into his-
"Please, stop!" Zacharie screamed.
He breathed harshly, raggedly, tears stinging his wounds, and realized that the Batter had paused.
"T-twenty percent..." Zacharie said, struggling to make his words not come out as sobs. "I'll give you twenty percent off!"
The Batter withdrew his mouth from Zacharie's neck. "That's fair," he said calmly. Standing up straight, the Batter wiped a hand across Zacharie's face, making him cringe, and licked the fingers clean of blood. He released his shoulder, and Zacharie slumped to the floor.
"Thanks," the Batter said, and, picking up his bat, went back into the elevator and left.
Zacharie crept over to where his mask had fallen and hastily tied it back on, bathing in the sense of security it provided. Even with luck tickets, the injuries he'd sustained would leave a nasty mark. He'd always thought it was fun to run around wearing masks, before.
He didn't think he'd ever go without one, now.