CHAPTER 8
"Clear the streets! Clear the streets!"
A WUL agent jogged up and down the dusky street in front of Mr. Williams museum, shouting into a megaphone at any unlucky individual who was still lumbering around in the potential crossfire. In truth, however, there was no need: Most of the patrons had begun positioning themselves near the various porches and pavilions in front of the other shops, taking whatever improvised seating they could. Imp families hung out of windows while Hellhounds and other demons sat on balconies and rooftops. Hawkers with candy, fried foods and commemorative merchandise set their carts up nearby, making themselves just visible enough to the park goers while also staying well out of the way of bullets.
And in front of Wong's restaurant, one of the duelists was sitting fetal against the wall, trying to keep herself from either fading out of consciousnesses, or going completely feral with hunger. Wong, or rather Coi, was nowhere to be seen.
Lucius had taken off his shirt and was trying to use it as an impromptu fan, hoping to keep Chay conscious just long enough to finish the duel. Viola was vigorously clacking her claws against her hellphone, checking and highlighting notes for...well, Chay had no idea what.
Lucius gave Blitzo a worried look. "I hope your comrades are seriously hustling, because we don't have a lot of time left."
"Only one hustler in this grab-bag, Lucky", Blitzo answered back. "And quit the menstrual cramps, they'll be here before you know it..."
HOAARRK!
Both Imps turned around to see Chay vomiting onto the street.
Blitzo shook his head. "Look, Louie...we worked for you before, right? You gave us a job, and we knocked it out of the park. So stop bitching and let my employees handle it-"
"We're back!"
Millie flew around the corner in a cloud of dust, with a gasping and sweating Moxxie hanging on to her neck. She clutched a white, metallic box underneath her left arm.
"We got...wheeze ...the box...that you asked for...gasp…", Moxxie managed to say.
"We opened it up and checked if your gun was still in there. Hope that was okay…", Millie finished for her oxygen-deprived husband.
Lucius took the box and walked over to Chay. He grabbed the top and opened it. Inside the box, on a pillow of white silk, was Chay's Apache revolver, neatly folded with the knuckle duster grip parallel to the cylinder, and the dagger folded into the barrel.
This gun had been given to her by Lucius, and had originally belonged to the notorious Hell figure known only as Flynn. Exactly how Lucius had managed to get his hands on the gun in the first place was something he had yet to reveal.
It would be the first time that Chay had fired the weapon in months.
If she could even keep a steady aim, that is.
"Am I too late?"
Coi emerged from his restaurant, carrying a cup of steaming liquid. Fyewackett and Leeroy followed behind him sipping their own cups.
He ran up to Chay to check on her.
"Miss Ong, can you hear me?"
Chay gave Coi the stink-eye, grunting at him.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Coi bent down. "Miss Ong, I need you to drink this. It'll help."
She looked at him with suspicion, before a shaking hand pulled down her scarf, showing her skeletal mouth. Her chattering teeth slowly opened.
Coi gently tipped the cup into Chay's maw, letting the steaming liquid trickle into her mouth. Slowly, he drained the cup.
"It's bone broth.", Coi remarked. "With a few herbs and spices added." Fyewackett shoved another steaming cup into Millie's hands, who began feeding it to her exhausted husband.
Chay's eyes began to widen as she began gulping the broth. Her hand grabbed the cup from Coi's grasp and upturned the cup, pouring the steaming liquid down her gullet.
She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "Fucking Hell, that stuff is fantastic!"
Coi grinned.
Her highness was right. It's like magic.
Chay stood up and brushed herself off. She felt a sudden burst of energy flow through her body. Even her corpse-like cheeks seemed to gain some color.
She held out her hand. "Alright, gimme my gun. Let's get this shit over with."
Lucius grabbed the Apache from the box and offered it to her, holding it by the barrel. Chay took the gun and folded out the grip. Her fingers wrapped around it, getting a feel for a weapon she hadn't touched in weeks.
She touched her forehead to the metal, taking a deep breath.
She looked down at Viola. "I'll ask one more time: You're absolutely sure about this?"
"Absolutely.", she answered. "Not a doubt in my mind."
Chay looked down the street. Williams's entourage rounded the corner, bearing the flag that they had seen in the gift shop: Three horizontal stripes, top and bottom blue and center white, with an inverted red star right in the center. They were even accompanied by a brass band, playing the same song they had played on the museum's grand opening earlier that day.
Hail Columbia, happy land!
Hail, ye heroes, Hell-born band,
Who fought and bled in freedom's cause…
She looked back down at Viola. "OK, Vi. I trust you…"
BZZZZTTT
Loona looked down at her phone. Someone was texting her.
Honestly, she hadn't really been paying attention to much over the last hour. She was still coming down from the intense pheremone high that came with ripping those WUL agents to shreds. This had been further complicated by the fact that she had seen Leeroy wet and half-naked.
….On second thought, maybe that was where the pheremone high was coming from.
Her mind had sort of drifted off from there. She remembered how Leeroy was telling her of his dream project on the walk back: he wanted to write and compose an entire musical, based around the story of Lucifer's rise and fall into Hell, and have it be cast entirely with Imps and Hellhounds. He'd apparently been composing it on an actual guitar.
The idea of Leeroy forgoing his usual instrument for a guitar did...something to her.
She looked down at her phone.
|: LET BLITZO KNOW
DAD'S COMING.
-Via :|
Loona sighed.
This could get ugly…
It was five minutes until six.
The tension in the air was thick, almost gelatinous. The crowds slowly began to lower their speaking, going from jovial shouts to hushed whispers as the clock ticked ever slowly to the appointed hour.
Williams and his group took their positions on the road. Bodfish and his men were closeby, hurrying around to make sure that no last minute stragglers were still in the way. Williams had fastened a holster to his belt, inside of which was his revolver, loaded with the same Exorcist bullets he had shown earlier.
On the other side, Chay took her position. Viola was closeby, still tapping away on her hellphone. Chay neglected to wear a holster for his firearm, instead simply stuffing it into her pants.
"You seem to have recovered, Miss Ong!", Williams said. "That's good! Maybe you'll actually put up a challenge!"
"Keep talking, Williams.", Chay called back. "At this rate you'll suffocate in the folds of your own fat before I even get the chance to shoot you."
"That's just the level of humor I'd expect from a savage like you, Miss Ong. I do so hope you enjoyed it, because I seriously doubt there is anything in oblivion that could respond to such a joke...or any stimuli, really!"
Chay rolled her eyes.
The next couple of minutes were a drawn-out, anxious affair. As the clock ticked closer, seconds seemed to extend into hours. The shadows slowly lengthened as the sun made it's slow descent, getting ready to completely disappear for the day so that the Pentagram Moon could finally take its place.
Bodfish and his men stood still, at the ready with their arms behind their back.
Williams smirked with confidence.
Chay looked back down at Viola one more time. Her eyes posed a silent question, waiting for one last assurance from her Imp companion.
Viola looked up at her. She gave a small nod.
The clock moved ever closer.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Williams's flabby fingers flexed near his pistol, ready to grab the weapon and fire.
Chay simply stared back. Her breath began to slow.
The clock kept ticking.
Tick.
Tick.
TICK.
…And then, the hour was struck. The bell began to resound the hour.
BONG
BONG
BONG
BONG
BONG
BONG
The first shots rang out in a flurry. Williams had snatched his weapon out of its holster with a lightning quickness, far quicker than his flabby weight would suggest.
BANG
Trust me, Chay.
BANG
I know what I'm doing.
BANG
Absolutely.
BANG
Not a doubt in my mind.
BANG
BANG
Smoke filled the air.
Several minutes earlier…
"So first question is first, Chay: How much do you know about the history of Nicaragua?"
Chay simply shook her head. "That's….I….how is this relevant?"
Viola smirked. "I'll take that as 'not much'. That's OK. It'll make sense in a minute."
Lucius helped Chay to sit down on the floor. She was still very wobbly and having difficulty keeping steady. Both he and Viola had been forced to slowly walk her out of the museum and into the street, hoping the fresh air would possibly help. Coi had dashed back into his restaurant, saying something about 'magic remedies', or some such. Leeroy and Fyewackett had decided to follow him, perhaps to help him prepare it. Blitzo and Loona had made their way outside, with Blitzo desparate to get back to his newfound infernal-equine friend. Moxxie and Millie were still fetching Chay's weapon.
"OK, so quick flashback. Remember last year when Lucius decided that the ILF needed to start studying the tactics of the Sandinistas?"
"I vaguely remember that, yes.", Chay said.
"Well, one of the things he had me do was gather research material on the history of Nicaragua…you know, it's history of political strife, civil war, etc. How it was constantly being screwed with by various European powers."
"As you do."
"Anyway, one of the things I researched were the various flags that had flown over the country during it's history. Remember that flag that Fyewackett showed us in the giftshop?"
"The blue and white one with the red star?"
"Yeah, that one. Well, I thought I had recognized it from somewhere, so I went through my old research notes…"
Viola tapped on her hellphone and brought up an image. She showed it to Chay.
"Look familiar?"
Chay looked closely at the image. It was an almost perfect replica of the flag she had seen, except in this case the red star was right-side-up.
"That's it! That's just like the fucking flag we saw!"
"Exactly. That's when I took a closer look at Williams himself. You notice how he looks like a fat, hairless tapir?"
"Yes, because Karma has a wicked sense of humor."
"Well, can you guess where tapirs are native to?"
"I'm guessing Central and South America."
"Yep. Specifically, the tapir known as the Tapirus bairdii. I found a pic here…"
She brought up yet another picture file from her hellphone. Chay looked at it. Minus the covering of dark hair, it looked a lot like Williams.
"Funny. This one isn't quite as bald as Williams."
"Mhmm. So from this, we have two things pointing to Nicaragua. So I became convinced that Williams was somehow tied into Nicaragua's history during his lifetime."
Chay raised an eyebrow. "But I don't think Williams is Latino, Viola. He seems pretty American…"
"...In some of the worst ways possible. Explains how the Colonel grew on him, doesn't it?"
Both Chay and Viola had a little laugh at that.
"Anyway…", Viola continued. "Like you said, Williams is clearly American. So that means that, in life, Williams must have been one of those random adventurers who would occasionally wander down south of the border to try and claim parts of Central and South America for the good ol' USA. Partly because he was delusional, but also because he wanted to bring more slave states into the union."
Chay rolled her eyes. "And once again, we bring slavery into the picture."
"Yep. Back then, they called it 'filibustering'. A bunch of Americans and their Tejano allies had done something similar in Mexico, and that eventually became the state of Texas, for largely the same reasons."
"I...actually didn't know that.", Chay remarked.
"Yeah. Pretty much everything west of the Rio Grande was originally part of Mexico. But back to my main point…"
Viola began tapping away on her phone again.
"So I decided to look back and see if Nicaragua was ever a victim of filibustering. You can probably guess what the results were."
She tapped on her phone one more time and brought up another picture, a portrait of a human. The photo was in black and white, and by the standards of the man's clothing (dark jacket, button-up shirt with high starched collar and hand-tied bow tie) it must have been taken in the nineteenth century. The man had large eyes, with a prominent forehead and slick hair. He had high cheekbones, large ears and a fair complexion. His name was emblazoned underneath it.
"Chay, this is our guy."
Chay's eyes widened. "Wow...Karma really gave him the shaft if that's what he looked like in life."
"Yeah, and his afterlife name wasn't terribly creative either. There's a bunch of funny stories about him. Apparently he had tried to do what the Texans had done in Mexico and tried to set up his own 'Republic of Sonora', so that he could create another slave state. It collapsed within a year. So in 1854 he turned his eyes to Nicaragua…"
She tapped more on her phone, bringing up an article on Voxipedia.
"At the time, Nicaragua was in the middle of a civil war between the conservative Legitimist Party and the Liberal Party, both of which had headquarters in different parts of the country. Our adventurer here had decided to worm his way into the conflict by offering his band of mercenaries and their services to the Liberals. Some of these mercenaries would eventually become Confederate officers. But what the Liberals didn't realize was that Mr. America here had other plans: he installed his own regime over Nicaragua, making him President For Life."
Chay smirked. "I'm guessing this didn't end well for him."
"Nope. He was such an awful person that he managed to have several other countries in the region unite against him. He was eventually overthrown, captured, and executed by firing squad in 1860."
Chay could barely hold back a laugh. Few things made her happier than hearing about Imperialists getting the bullet.
But she was still confused…
"But what's all of this have to do with your plan, Vi?"
Viola grinned. "That's the best part…"
There's something about gun fights that a lot of movies get wrong.
Usually in the movies, after a gun discharges a bullet, there may be a spark of gunfire…and that's about it. You might see or hear the bullet ricochet off of something, or shatter a window as soon as it makes contact with the glass, and many times you'll see almost perfect bullet holes.
But in reality, gun fights aren't nearly that clean cut. Not just because of the fact that it's virtually impossible to do things like duel-wielding pistols, or firing sub machine guns at full automatic from the hip, or that recoil is really powerful in even the lightest handguns…
...but because gunshots produce an awful lot of smoke.
And when you are having a gunfight in the middle of a dusty, dirt covered street like the one in front of Mr. Williams's Museum, you can expect a lot of smoke and dust to obscure the duel.
Because of this, it took a full minute from the time the last shots finished firing to the time the smoke finally cleared before anyone could see the results of the carnage.
On one side, Williams held out his gun, with traces of gun smoke still emerging from the barrel. His finger was still pulling the trigger, getting only impotent clicks from the empty cylinder. His eyes were wide, and blood thirsty.
And on the other side was Chay: Her gun was still stuck in her pants, having not moved an inch. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her eyes were closed. Her breathing was steady and rhythmic.
On one of her shoulders, the fabric from her shirt was frayed, as if softly lacerated by a stray bullet.
And she was otherwise completely unharmed.
She opened her eyes...and began to laugh.
Because Viola had been absolutely right.
The crowd became confused...and then restless and angry.
"Hey! What the fuck was that!?"
"My crippled grandma could shoot better than that!"
"My toddler could shoot better than that and he was born with no arms!"
Williams looked at his gun. His breathing became heavy.
He reached back into his pocket and fished out more bullets. Some spilled from his pants as he hastily began placing them into the cylinder. He cocked the gun and fired again.
Ping
One ricocheted off the ground.
Ping
Another hit a post and flew into the air.
Ping
A third shattered a nearby window.
Ping
A fourth ricocheted off the ground, flew into the air, and hit a stray Hellbird, which in turn fell from the sky and flopped onto the ground in front of Williams.
"Nice trickshot, sir.", Bodfish remarked.
Williams began to turn beet red. He pulled the trigger two more times.
Ping
Ping
Neither found their target.
Chay just shook her head. "This is getting really sad…"
"Now that, is some of the sorriest goddamn shooting I have ever seen!"
Out of the museum emerged Colonel Estes, his cane clacking against the wooden porch boards as he slithered his way into the street.
"Dixie bless it, Williams! I thought you were supposed to be a crack shot! What kind of god-awful performance was that?!"
Chay grinned.
"Oh, this lying scumbag was never a hero, Colonel. Simply put…"
Several minutes earlier…
"That's the best part…"
Viola scrolled up the Voxipedia article, highlighting an earlier section.
"See, General Dipshit here actually became famous for something earlier before he began going on his little adventures. Earlier in his life, he fancied himself something of a gunslinger, and a couple of years before he invaded Nicaragua, he decided to challenge a law clerk to a duel. The problem was that the guy he challenged was an experienced gunfighter himself…"
She expanded the texts she was pointing to.
"Recognize the name?"
Chay looked at the phone. "William Hicks Graham...that's the name on the gun display."
"Yeah, but here's the thing: Graham didn't die at that duel. He didn't die in any duel. He died of natural causes years later."
Chay looked up at Viola. "So this asshole is a fucking liar…"
"On a lot of things, but it gets better: Graham actually won that duel. He managed to fire off two shots that hit Mr. Dumbass in the leg. Mr. Dumbass, in turn, fired off five shots himself, and not a single one hit Graham. Williams had to throw in the towel before he bled out on the street. He made national news because of how absolutely terrible his performance was."
Chay shook her head, giggling. "Wow. That makes all of the later stuff seem like he was compensating for something."
"Exactly, Chay. That's why you've got this duel in the bag…"
Chay looked out at the street. Sweat was still pouring down her forehead.
She began to laugh. Almost manaically.
"Holy shit, this is fucking amazing! I won't even have to lift a fucking finger!"
Viola's eyes narrowed. She raised a hand to touch Chay's shoulder.
"I wouldn't go that far. We should probably make some contingency plans"
"No, this'll be perfect. I'll just stand there, and McFuckhead over there will keep trying to hit me. Every fucking bullet will ricochet somewhere and not even touch me!"
Viola tried to smile half-heartedly.
She really is losing it.
Chay stopped laughing for a moment. It appeared that she had briefly come to her senses.
She looked over at Viola. "You're absolutely sure about this?"
Viola patted her friend on the back. "Absolutely. After all…"
"...William Walker is a terrible fucking shot.", Chay said. Viola stood next to her, grinning triumphantly, having been completely vindicated.
The Colonel's eyes went wide. So wide they barely managed to still fit on his head. His shoulders began to shake and shiver. His stomach began to convulse.
He could barely contain his laughter. He nearly doubled over onto the ground. He struggled to keep a hold of his cane.
"Walker? Walker the Fuck-up? The incompetent bail of hoo-ha who died in Trujillo from a firing squad? That's who you were, Williams?"
Chay raised an eyebrow at the Colonel. "I take it you and him have a bit of history?"
"Oh, you could say that Miss Ong…" The Colonel slithered onto the dirt road. "During the War, we men of the Confederacy would refer to him as 'General Walker'. We thought he was a hero. He was the one who convinced so many of us that we needed to build an Empire of Slavery in the Tropics! He was the spiritual godfather of the Golden Circle, for Satan's sake!"
He slithered over to Williams. "But then, fancy my surprise…", He took his cane and pointed at Tapir-looking Sinner. "I take a bullet in Chickamauga, wind up down here…"
He jabbed Williams in his gelatinous stomach with his cane. "...and then I find out what a sorry sack of squirrel shit this fucking pretender actually was! No wonder you had to completely remake your identity, Williams! Nobody would have taken you seriously in this place!"
Williams was already beet red. Now, he looked like he was turning into a tomato.
He whipped around to face Estes, his mouth practically dripping with angry foam. "Oh go fuck yourself with a bayonet, you piss-swilling hick!". He raised his gun up and pointed it at the Colonel. "I'm not going down for this alone. I told you we were gonna share the treasure between ourselves or fall together…"
Williams squeezed the trigger on the gun. The level pulled back, and trigger touched the back of the ring guard….
...and nothing.
No gunshot. No spark. No bullet flying out of the barrel.
Just nothing.
Williams tried with all of his might to pull the trigger, but his finger simply wouldn't move.
His hand couldn't even drop or let go of the gun.
His hand, and gun that it held, had been encased and petrified in stone.
"I think that will be quite enough of that..."
A green portal opened up in the middle of the street, encased in smoke and starry sparkles. Walking out of it emerged the tall, opulent frame of Stolas Goetia, his eyes blinking off the last of a red glow.
"So then, it appears that it was Mr. Williams here who robbed me of my property. That's very unfortunate for you, Williams."
He walked over to the flabby Sinner and bent down to look him in the eyes.
"Yes, very unfortunate for you indeed."
Whatever shade of red that Williams had turned earlier had fled without a trace, replaced with a ghostly, deathly pale.
Williams stumbled backwards, trying to get as much distance between himself and the tall Goetian demon.
"Oh my, are you trying to run away? How fun! You think you can actually get away from me…"
The fat Sinner scrambled to his feet and attempted to flee down the street.
He didn't get very far.
"Oh no you don't…", Chay said.
She whipped out her pistol from her hip and fired a single bullet at Williams's leg. The bullet struck him in the back of his knee, blasting out his knee cap and leaving him tumbling down to the dirt, his leg a bloody mess. He collapsed to the ground with a sickening thud.
"Good shot, Miss Ong." The tall Goetian strolled over to Williams, now moaning in agony and clutching in ruined leg.
"Hmmm, poetic justice I think." He turned around the Colonel. "Now then, Colonel. Could you inform me on what exactly Mr. Williams here meant by 'treasure'? I would have thought the necklace itself would have been treasure enough."
The Colonel shrugged his shoulders. "I'm afraid I know about as much as you do, suh. All he would tell me is that the necklace was the key to some sort of incredible treasure. Something so precious that he was convinced he could buy up half of Hell with it if he could."
"Oh really now?". He bent down and looked Williams in his teary, bloodshot eyes. "And where, pray tell, did you hear of such a thing?"
Williams spat at his feet. "Eat shit, bird! This is Hell! I don't have to explain a damned thing to you! Now, if you're gonna kill me, then get it over with, because you can bet your flea-bitten feathery ass that I'm not talkin!"
Stolas sighed and shook his head. "Why are you Sinners always so blinded by your own pride? It begs me to wander…"
The tall Owl-demon reached into his coat and pulled out his hellphone. He scrolled through is contacts.
"Now, Williams, you should know that I've been speaking with some of your business partners over the last couple of days. I've learned some rather fascinating things, you know...like how you've not been entirely honest with your patron."
Williams attitude changed abruptly. His eyes began to glaze over.
"W-what…"
"He's been trying to reach you all day, you know. He's just been aching to speak with you…"
A light ringtone could be heard from the phone. Stolas held it to his ear.
The other line picked up.
"Salutations.", Stolas said. "About what we talked about earlier today….yes, yes he's here. Would you like me to put you on speaker phone?"
A cackling could be heard on the other end.
"Why, it would be my pleasure. Give me just a moment…"
Stolas switched to speaker phone.
"Alright, go ahead…", he said.
Stolas held the phone out at arm's length, so that everyone present could whoever was on the other end of the line.
"Williams…"
What emerged from the speaker was a voice that was at once hungry, overstuffed, and growling with appetite. It was oily and sleek, like the lowest of card sharks or racketeers. It chittered, like a horde of insects getting ready to pick clean a dead carcass.
Williams's eyes dilated with sheer terror.
"L….Lord Mammon?"
Chay's eyes widened.
-This is going to get ugly, isn't it?
"Williams, your contract has been canceled. I'm revoking your wards. My associates will be seeing you very soon…"
Williams tried to crawl on the ground, his ruined leg only allowing him to writhe like a caterpillar.
"P-please, Lord Mammon...You needn't go this extreme! I can explain everything!"
"No, Williams. You can't. You're not the first huckster I've dealt with, and you surely will not be the last…."
"Please, no!"
"Your wards are revoked."
The finality of those words had all of the effect of a gavel striking a table, or a hammer hitting a gong.
Williams could not speak. He couldn't even gasp.
The street suddenly became deathly, eerily quiet.
Then, a small spark began to ignite around Williams. Static crackled around him.
He raised up a hand, almost pleading with whatever universal forces he though could possibly hear his plea.
His flabby hand shook...and then, the fingers bent backwards. Further, further, further still, before snapping like twigs.
His forearm followed suit, then his shoulders. His legs bent backwards, and the crackling noises seem to suggest that his individual toes were meeting the same fate. His lips began to bend backwards over his mouth, his teeth, his nose, before completely peeling off of his skull. His ribs and back snapped like tree limbs in a wind storm, bending over him and into him, until his jaw snapped open, splitting in two.
Within a few seconds, what remained of Williams had degraded into a chunky, bubbling goo that melted into the ground...and then disappeared entirely.
No-one made a sound, dumbstruck by what they saw.
At least, not until Mammon's voice broke the silence.
"Colonel Estes?"
The Colonel slithered towards Stolas's phone. "Present, suh."
"You're my new creative director for the attraction. Congrats."
Another chittering laugh could be heard before the line went dead.
Chay and the Imps kept staring at the now barren ground where Williams had been.
"Play stupid games, play stupid prizes.", Blitzo remarked.
"Quite right, Blitzy.", Stolas said. "You just do have a way with words…"
Chay raised a question. "Sooo...where's he gone?"
"Williams? Oh, he'll be back in Pentagram City by tomorrow morning. My associates and Lord Mammon's will be waiting for him there…"
The Owl-demon grinned as he bent down to look at Chay. "You can leave the rest to me. I cannot thank you enough for the work you've done, Miss Ong. You've earned your commission. You'll see the money in your account by the end of tomorrow…"
Stolas clapped his hands. "Now then, if someone could please return my property to me, we can put this entire messy business behind us…"
"Right here, Lord Stolas…"
Bodfish walked up to the Owl Demon, bearing the necklace in his hands. He handed the jewelry to Stolas and bowed.
"Thank you, Bodfish. Nice to see you again."
The Ram-demon then turned to Chay and the others. His eyes darted around, as if he was trying to find whatever words he felt comfortable enough sacrificing to engage his lessers.
"Miss Ong, I would hope that there are no hard feelings. My contract with Williams has been terminated, so there is no reason for me to molest you or your friends any longer."
Chay just sneered. "Whatever, bougie. Get out of my sight."
"Quite." Bodfish signaled to his remaining men to pack it in and leave. They quickly hustled out of the street.
"Sir...if I could ask…."
Moxxie strolled tentatively towards Stolas, trying to be as respective and demure as possible. "That necklace is quite...gauch looking. Is it really worth as much as Williams seemed to think it was?"
"Yeah, I'm actually curious about that as well.", Chay said. "If the Colonel is any indication, he seemed to think it was the key to something so precious that he was willing to do...well, all of this to accomplish it."
"Opulence is a state of mind, Miss Ong.", Stolas remarked. "I do so love my gems and jewels, but gems and jewels can largely be replaced. It's the inability to replace something that makes it valuable…"
Stolas began to fiddle with the back of the medallion. His fingers twisted around some hidden mechanisms that were obscured in the piece's rear.
"Houses, automobiles, these things can all be replaced, even rebuilt to be better than before…"
The mechanism was set, and a hidden compartment popped open. Inside was a small, thimble-sized piece of moon-rock, glittering with pieces of rare minerals. Neck to it was a tiny, neatly folded note. Stolas unfolded it to see if the writing was still intact…
To Octavia,
Happy 18th Birthday, my precious little star fire.
Love,
Daddy.
"...But I would burn every single ring in Hell to the ground for my daughter.", he said.
CHAPTER 8 END