author's note: I do not own chuck and no breach of copyright is intended.
Date: 08/10/2012
Time: 23:30
The night was cold, unusually so, but Chuck Bartowski did not shiver. The chill was nothing to do with the temperature so shivering would do no good. He was standing in the shadowy recess between shipping containers and was all but invisible to human eyes. Of course, Chuck wasn't worried about human eyes.
Minutes passed and Chuck stood perfectly still, giving no indication that he was there. Eventually, Chuck's quarry appeared. Chuck heard him coming several minutes before he saw him, his footsteps echoing through the storage facility. The man did not appear to notice that he was being watched and walked straight up to one of the containers. He unlocked the heavy padlock and swung open the heavy door. The groaning as metal scraped across metal grated against the quiet of the night.
The container was empty, Chuck had seen to that.
"It's just so frustrating when you go to all those lengths to hide someone and then one day they just disappear," said Chuck. He had moved directly behind the man, into the dim light provided by a street lamp.
The man spun round and Chuck got his first good look him. The man was quite short and there was the look of fear about him; it was in his eyes and in the way he gripped the torch in his hand.
"What did you do with them?" he asked. There was a rage in his voice that seemed contradictory to the fear in his demeanour.
Chuck shrugged non-committally and said, "I opened the door. They seemed quite keen to leave."
"You did what?" the small man said, taking a step forward. The rage seemed to be taking dominance over the fear. Chuck stood his ground.
"What?" Chuck replied, "You thought you were the only kid on the block? You thought that nobody was watching?"
The man was shaking now. "You could at least have left one! Do you know what it's like for me?"
The small man lunged at Chuck, the rage having taken over now. Strangely, the man seemed bigger now; not physically bigger but almost like there was more than just him there, like what you could see was just the tip of the iceberg.
Strangely, Chuck was no longer there and the man was left alone on the cold concrete. The man stared at his empty hands, confusion creasing his brows. Barely a moment passed and the confusion became fear. He was afraid once again.
Suddenly he noticed that Chuck was standing several meters away, rolling up the sleeves of his coat to above the elbow.
"I'm sorry," the man stammered. The look in Chuck's eyes told him that the apology would do no good.
"I'm going to send you back to hell," Chuck informed him and suddenly an iron hard fist smashed into the man's face. As suddenly as he appeared, Chuck was gone again, now on the other side of the man.
"And when you get there, you're going to deliver a message for me," Chuck carried on. He was unscrewing a glass bottle. He tossed the contents at the small man and he let out a bloodcurdling shriek. He collapsed onto the floor, writhing in agony.
Chuck lifted the man up off the floor and drops of liquid splashed onto Chuck's bare arms. Where the liquid hit, it left small burns that smoked slightly. Chuck grimaced and landed a devastating uppercut to the man's chin. Chuck let go of him as he did and the man was sent flying by the blow.
"I need you to ask Lucifer where I might find the intersect," commanded Chuck as he walked over to the still body of the man.
"What makes you think I could ever get near to Lucifer? You will need to exorcise someone more important than me if you want Lucifer to notice you. There is no reason to kill this human body."
"Just say that Charles Carmichael sent you," answered Chuck, "you would be surprised what that can achieve."
And just like that, Chuck Bartowski stabbed the minor demon through the heart with a silver dagger.
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