"He's awful big."
The bartender snorted and moved the cigarette to the corner of his cracked mouth. "You're awful small, Smoothskin."
"Two-Thousand caps?"
"Two-Thousand caps."
Charon tried his best to ignore his employer and the Smoothskin at the bar, but the prospect of leaving Underworld made his heart pump extra hard. He'd been stuck here working for Ahzrukhal for the past ten years and during that time, he'd only been allowed outside those large double doors twice. Once to permanently remove some low-life scum from Ahzrukhal's presence. The other was while chasing down a bar patron who stole a partial shipment of Jet.
Two-Thousand caps, though. That was a lot of soda.
The Smoothskin gave a long glance over his way, as if studying him like one would a horse – if any had still existed. This Smoothskin was a young female, no more than twenty years old, with tanned skin and pixie-cut dirt colored hair. Her eyes were dark brown and seemed to look straight into him with piercing agony.
Finally, she turned back to Ahzrukhal and sighed with annoyance before reaching into the bag at her feet. "If Olive was here, she could probably get you down to one-thousand caps, but fuck it. Once she sees what I bought, she'll flip." She gave the barkeep a nasty grin before dropping two large and chinking bags on the bar before her. "Olive is horrified of Ghouls."
Ahzrukhal chuckled and began counting the caps.
"Anything special I should know?"
The ghoul glanced Charon's way before shrugging. "He's been programed to defend himself from attackers – including his employer. Though, from my experience, and from word of the person I bought Charon from, his training only kicks in if you're trying to seriously harm him. A good right hook will sure as fuck grab his attention, but he won't attack back. If you do provoke him, pray to your feeble god he stops before you die."
Once Ahzrukhal was certain there was the agreed upon amount, he produced a dirty, folded piece of paper that Charon was quite familiar with. It had yellowed with age and appeared to have plenty of blood on it but it was still the contract that held his entire existence.
The girl hopped off the bar stool and went straight for Charon. She didn't wait for him to speak or even turn towards her, for as soon as she was beside him, she slapped the paper down on the table. "I own you now. Get your shit and let's get out of this cesspool."
Charon looked over to the bar where Ahzrukhal was recounting the caps and organizing them into colors and brands. It seemed a legitimate trade and the Smoothskin did have his contract. Before he left, though... "One moment. I have to do something first."
The girl's eyes narrowed and she growled, "Make it snappy."
The Ghoul nodded and approached Ahzrukhal. As he approached, the barkeep looked up only to come eye-to-barrel with a shotgun.
A loud retort went off and bits of the Ghoul's head went flying.
Everyone in the bar scattered and fled outside, screaming and covering their heads. One patron knocked over his table and dived behind it, peaking over the edge with a shaking 9mm pistol in hand.
To Charon's amazement, his new employer merely gave him a foul look and flicked some pieces of brain-matter from her shoulder. "You better not make this a habit," she stated coldly before hopping behind the bar. The floor was slick with blood and brains, but she managed to grab Ahzrukhal and flip him over onto his back. "Gather up those caps on the bar and any cash from the register. Also, where does he keep his med stash?"
Charon did as he was told, scooping the caps back into their bags and adding what was in the register. "He keeps everything in the safe in the wall. The key is in his inner coat pocket. There's also some liquor in the refrigerator."
The girl found the key and quickly opened the safe. Without looking, she scooped out everything and soon did the same for the fridge. "Gotta go. Gotta go. Gotta go," she mumbled, grabbing Charon's arm. "I do not want to get shot by that robot."
Before she opened the door, Charon stopped her and peaked out himself. Everything was silent and no one was to be seen. Even the guard dog robot appeared absent. "Looks clear. It's night so only the druggies are awake." He inched out into the hallway and peaked over the ledge to see downstairs. The robot was powered down at his station.
"Yep, looks clear. We should..." Charon turned back to look behind him, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. "Fuck." The Ghoul jumped back from the edge, whipping his head around, only to see a trail of bloody boot-prints leading down the stairway.
"Will you hurry up, damn-it?" The Smoothskin called back up the steps.
One last glance down at the robot and Charon left Underworld for the third time in ten years.