Two Smoking Barrels
The atmosphere was electric. Max felt it, the warmth and the carefree lust for a good time, as soon as she crossed the threshold into her favourite hang out, Crash. Max had not planed on venturing from the comfort of home that night. She'd woken up with a pulsing headache, and a mood so black that not even the idea of adjusting the exhaust on her pride and joy could cheer her up, but somehow Cindy's enthusiasm, and Sketchy's threat to wipe the pool table with her, had awoken the part of her that just wanted to be normal and despite the fact that her very nature made this dream impossible, it was a desire she could never quench. Cindy was right all she needed was a nice, normal night out "kickin' it" with friends, "to loose the post Manticore blues."
Crash was almost a second home for Max, it had always been where she could just kick back and forget herself in order to have a good time. It looked the same as always, the same mass of people, teaming with emotion, the familiar odor of urine wafting from the gents, the smell of stale beer and tobacco hung in the air, clinging to the dark corners. The smoke, from a hundred languid hands that held smoldering cigarettes, sat suspended at eye level making the already dark establishment appear almost gothic at first. But tonight something was different. The patrons were radiating joy, and with Seattle in its current state, this was a miracle. But as Max and Cindy ventured further into the dark, they noticed the reason for the emotional uplift.
In the back corner there had always been a stage, generally however it was used as a storage space, with chairs stacked up against the wall, broken tables and other assorted junk lying at their feet, but tonight a four- piece band graced the dusty wood set up in a diamond shape, with the drummer's kit in front of the backstage door. They should have known, after all the music was far better than the trash that usually came from the jukebox.
"Hey Max," a goofy voice called though the crowded mass. Lifting her head she scoped for the owner of the familiar voice. He was young, not unlike her, with a messy head of hair - usually covered by a beanie - that hung on his face like limp strands of rope. Despite his drongo appearance there was nothing but a sweet personality behind his brown eyes.
"Hey Sketch," She smiled as he push through the crowd. She imagined it looked somewhat like the parting of the red sea, if only Moses were stoned and elbowing the water out of the way. "How goes it," she laughed, knocking fists with him in a friendly greeting.
"Like a buckle free wheel," Sketchy said, nodding a greeting to Cindy. He always seemed much more intellectual after a few joints. Which said a lot about him, because while the analogy wasn't ingenious, the clean Sketch would have had trouble saying the words, let alone thinking them up. "What do you think of the band?"
Max looked up. They sounded much the same as a lot of bands; the same practiced drumbeats, and nothing special from either of the guitarist - bass or electric. The real saver though, was the singer's voice. It was pure beauty, like a rose freshly sprinkled from the morning rain.
"Not bad," Cindy began, attempting to voice the opinion that Max had also formulated. "But the lead singer."
"Is hotter than a Californian blonde in a mini skirt," Alec finished, placing one arm around each of the girls. He was fresh from the bar and held two pitchers of beer, one in each hand. His brown hair hung in his eyes, which glimmered with mischief. Max turned to him, her face contorted in disbelief.
"Is that all you think about?" She looked up him, her brow furrowed in disgust.
Alec turned to Sketchy. "No," He said, a playful smile rested on his face, the only sign that the statement lacked validity. "At the moment I'm thinking about getting into those hot pants," he joked. Sketchy laughed briefly, before catching the disturbing glares radiating from both Cindy and Max. Finding himself in a somewhat compromising position his face fell. He looked from the two young girls to the singer and back again.
"But but," he whimpered, gesturing to the girl. Max just shook her head, while Cindy left him with a "tut-tut-tut."
"Come on guys, look at her," he pleaded for forgiveness, if not a little understanding as he gestured towards her.
She was indeed beautiful. The blue light illuminating her smooth face, forming shadows that accentuated her fine features and clear complexion. Her thick pink lips peeked out from behind the microphone that she held in her dainty gloved fingertips, an adorable smile evident from the cute creases the corners of her mouth made as she sang. And every time she moved to the particularly upbeat song, the lights scattered through her blue curls, catching the prisms woven in her shoulder length hair, and across silky long legs, that would have made even Barbie envious.
"They're not bad," Max conceded, as the group watched the mysterious singer and her band perform. They were so energetic that it became clear that the crowd was feeding off their presence, their bouncing dance moves. But more surprisingly, the band seemed to make direct eye contact with the entire audience at the same time as they span around in circles or jumped into the air. It was like a sharing of souls in an effort to better understand the music. It was truly amazing to witness.
Alec watched intently, feeling glued to girls dancing frame. Her arms and legs moved so fluently that it appeared effortless. He found himself wondering if she was there or not. It was clear she had noticed his attention, his eyes glued to her frame was an obvious give away, and by the smile on her face it was clear she didn't mind. So much so that after a turn, while her bosom still heaved and her blue locks covered one eye, she winked the uncovered ocean blue eye.
Sketchy thumped Alec in the side, "The "blonde" has a thing for you," he joked. Alec looked slightly flushed. In the brief nanoseconds that his eyes had met hers he had felt a sudden unpleasant rush through his body. Never easily disturbed he began to wonder about the girl. About her life and her personality.
"Yeah, the drooling is a give away," Max slammed. "Come on Sketch, I want to cream you on the table" She laughed leading the group of friends across the venue, to the pool tables and their usual hang out. The group followed eagerly. They all knew that Max was a wizard with a cue and a game with her was not something to be missed. Alec however, did not follow. Strangely attracted to the vivacious singer, he felt that moving from her image would be blasphemous. It wasn't just her gorgeous looks and angelic voice; there was something behind those blue eyes. Something strange
"Alec," Cindy scolded from ahead. "The chick's going to think you're a mad arse stalker or something if you keep macking her with those eyes." She warned before turning and walking towards the table where Sketchy and Max had already racked up, and now leant lazily around the table, cues in their hands. Alec sighed. He couldn't place nor justify the sick feeling he had and as the song ended, he decided there was no use dwelling on it and followed Cindy; after all she was just a harmless beauty.
He had just reached the table when he heard the screams. Like a hundred car alarms all going off at once, the terrifying sound pierced the night, as patrons scrambled for any cover they could find. Some lucky ones dived under flimsy tables, the rest were forced to stand, as they had been seconds before. Startled by the frightening sound, the group turned to witness the commotion. They could see the growing fear in the eyes of the crowd. Women's faces drained to a deathly white, while tears welled in the eyes of the men. Max was sure she saw a woman faint but she fell into the crowd, so she couldn't be sure.
"Stay here, and stay down," she order her friends, who without knowing what was going on, were stricken with fear. Within seconds, the atmosphere in the bar had changed dramatically, the air tasted of fear. Max and Alec looked at each other. Neither of them wanted to do it, Alec even less. Even looking anything other than frightened in this situation made them suspicious and jeopardized their safety but Max had a soft spot for the helpless and Alec, well he was curious.
The pool table was in a small alcove, and a wall blocked their view. The faces of the disturbed on lookers were turned towards the stage as before. They guessed the situation must have something to do with the band. Hugging the wall Alec moved towards the crowd. He hoped to use them as cover as he surveyed the situation. Max had followed and was now standing next to him. He could feel her warmth and shivered. In any other situation he would have enjoyed such a position, but now it just irritated him.
Pausing to take a breath, Alec wondered what he would see when he turned. Would she be dead, would her body lay blood stained on the ground? "Go," Max, hissed, awakening Alec from his daydream. He peered around the corner. It was as if his head spun, and the world dropped away into a thick haze. Nothing seemed to be in focus, not the crowd in front of him, not the bar to the left, only the large silver pistols resembling colts that the lead singer had cocked in at the audience.
He swallowed before turning back to Max; perhaps it was worse than he feared. "The singer has gone all Rambo woman on us," he said pretending to chuckle.
"What she's packing?" Max asked slightly confused at his round about language. Alec nodded. Max crawled past him, hitting Alec hard in the chest as she went past, to get a look for herself. The lead singer appeared to be holding the audience hostage, yet she wasn't talking. The other band members appeared unarmed.
"This is bad," she grumbled as she turned back. She had no clue what to do. Should she get her friends out of there and leave the rest of them to the seemingly mad woman, or should she risk her new life, for the sack of some strangers. Her selflessness took over. With their backs pressed up against the wall, heads dropped to the ground, the pair looked defeated, but in reality they were searching their minds for a viable plan, now certain they must.
"Okay," Max started. "How about you go around the back through the door behind the drummer and take out the gunner, while I get the people out?" She asked him. That was unusual she normally told him what to do.
"You want me to take on all four of them," he grimaced jokingly.
"Well you were the one who couldn't take your eyes off her, thought you'd relish the chance to get close." She hissed. Alec rolled his eyes but made his way silently towards a door behind the pool table which he hoped lead to a corridor, that in turn would lead to the backstage entrance. Max followed, wanting to get her friends out, before the tousle began.
"Come on guys, we've got to get out of here." She said calmly perhaps too calmly. Grabbing hold of Cindy's hand, she ran, hunched over, towards the front door, using the height of the crowd as cover from the gunner's eyes. She reached up and opened the door. The cold night air hit her in the chest. "Okay out," she whispered.
Turning back towards Alec as she ushered Cindy and Sketchy out the door. She watched as he disappeared into the back of the club before sneaking into the audience. Her heart was beating rapidly, the situation was out of control, and she really didn't have a clue as to what she was doing.
Meanwhile Alec had made his way behind stage, through a dark passage, lit only by flickering overhead lights. He had regained some of his bravado; Max's heartfelt comments always did that to him. He raised his heavily clad foot and rammed it into the door with the force of his weight. The hinges squealed as the metal deformed, straining against him, before the screws were ripped from their bindings and the door crashed down upon the drummer, his cymbals thrashed loudly from the collision. Alec grinned proudly. One down, he thought.
It all happened within seconds of the door crashing down. He stepped out onto stage, a sly grin crossing his face as the bass player stepped to him wielding his guitar like a weapon. The young man looked fear stricken, but determined. However nothing incited more pleasure in Alec than a scared victim. It gave him a chance to play. The basest flung the guitar towards him, but Alec dodged it with ease, laughing as it swung past him and crashed into the wall behind him, splinters clattering to the floor. He shook his head and walked towards the boy. The boy eyes fell as Alec advanced. He stumbled backwards apprehensively. Alec grasped him by his shoulders, lifting him from the floor, and flung him into the wall.
"Okay OUT!" He heard Max scream, as the guitarist slid down the wall unconscious. He turned to see the lead guitarist jump off stage and run scared into the fleeing audience hoping to be lost. The thought only made him smile. This had been far easier than even he had imagined.
The glint of light reflecting from metal told him the singer was no longer poised on the audience. He grinned and faced her, eyes gleaming as if she was an easy target, the same sly grin falling across his handsome face.
"Nice guns," He said hands hanging by his side nonchalantly. He was surprised when she raised one of her blue sculpted eyebrows.
"Is that what you think?" She asked rolling her wrists so they caught the light and shimmered. "That I couldn't take you without them?" She asked defensively still examining her weapons in the light.
"Hey gorgeous, I never said that, seems you are a little touchy." He launched moving towards her, hands up, palms facing her in mock submission. The singer arched her eyebrow further. Narrowing her lips she tucked the weapons into the back of her already tight hot pants. The cold metal against her skin caused her to shiver. She opened her stance and smiled. It was clear; she would not let him get the best of her.
"Bring it on big boy," she jibed. Alec didn't need another invitation; he sprang forth thrusting a punch towards her face. Absently, she blocked it, following with a wide snapping kick to his side. Alec was so shocked that this slight girl had blocked his punch effortlessly that her kick caught him unaware and the sheer precision of the attack resulted in a crippling impact and he fell to the floor.
"Oh poor baby," she laughed standing over him, a triumphant smile on her face. It was clear she thought she had won. Rising to his feet Alec advanced once more, performing a high spinning kick that sliced through the air like a fan, cleaving through the smoky mist. She ducked quickly, and the leg flew over her head. She felt it rip through her hair. She stumbled backwards. As she regained her footing her face was clouded with confusion and apprehension yet her eyes held his intrusive gaze determinedly. He stepped forwards and at that precise moment she countered with a hitch kick that snapped at his chin. With a simple twist of his head, the kick missed and Alec was able to connect fist to her unguarded chest. She toppled back into the wall.
Winded and disorientated, it was easy for Alec to grasp her forearms and pin her to the wall. He could feel her strain and twist beneath him, forcing her arms from the wall. She was incredibly strong for her size. Alec had to strain to push her back. It was a strange game of tug of war.
"So who was right?" He asked a sly grin in place, despite the work he put into holding her against the wall. She looked up at him, her chest heaving as she breathed, and flashed the same adorable smile that had left Alec so confused before. She lifted her chin, and forced her face towards his, her moist lips parting. Alec didn't know what to think, a beautiful woman, who'd just tried to kill him, was trapped beneath his arms and appeared to be enjoying it. He leant in expecting to be welcomed with warm lips, but instead was startled when her eyes flashed an eerie purple.
In the moment that he was lost in her eyes, she snapped her leg towards his inner thigh, connecting with such force his leg lifted towards the roof. She watched his face screw up, and felt his grip weaken. In the same fluent motion, she snapped her leg into his side once more. He fell to the ground, releasing her and coughing painfully. She stepped towards the coughing frame. Standing above him she flung a series of controlled yet forceful kicks into his side, each one lifting him from the floor. He moaned and curled up in an effort to protect himself. She grinned, and unleashed a kick at the hunched figure so powerful it flung him onto his back.
He lay wounded, sprawled across the dusty stage floor, his breathing stressed. She smiled and stepped around him, until she was above his head. She reached behind her and pulled out one of her pistols. Alec lay beneath her too hurt to move. Alec felt his throat swell in apprehension. He tried to stand but the pain was crippling.
"I'm always right," She smiled sweetly without a hint of Sinicism, or darkness in her voice. She seemed oddly aware, and happy as if it was all a big joke. She placed her finger on the trigger and pulled back gently. Alec closed his eyes and braced himself for the death that seemed so inevitable. Then he heard it, the harmless click of an unloaded gun. He opened his eyes, and saw the same adorable smile she had unleashed before. He wasn't dead. She had no intension of killing him. He groaned in the wake of these revelations. She silently dropped the gun onto his chest and scrambled across the broken stage door and out the back and into the darkness of the night.
Just then, Max made it back into the venue having finally cleared the audience. "Alec," she cried concerned. She ran up onto stage and dropped to her knees beside him. He coughed and rolled his head to the side. He'd been beaten by a girl, a normal girl nonetheless. His pride had been dealt the strongest blow; he didn't have the power to deal with Max's sarcasm.
"Are you okay," she asked. He rolled his eyes and pushed himself to a sitting position despite his agony, the weapon tumbling down into his lap. His stomach ached; she'd sure given him a beating.
"She left this, some sort of memento," He sighed picking up the gun and tossing it to Max dejectedly. He watched as Max examined it, looking over the beautiful work. Even Max seemed to appreciate the workmanship, and that was saying something, with her distain for weapons.
"Unbelievable," She said in disgust tossing the weapon back to Alec. "Side of the barrel," she snapped. He picked it up and held the gun into the light. Engraved into the metal were a series of numbers.
"A phone number," Alec chuckled. "See that Max, rough love. I've still got it" He smirked.
"It better be the number to the morgue."
The atmosphere was electric. Max felt it, the warmth and the carefree lust for a good time, as soon as she crossed the threshold into her favourite hang out, Crash. Max had not planed on venturing from the comfort of home that night. She'd woken up with a pulsing headache, and a mood so black that not even the idea of adjusting the exhaust on her pride and joy could cheer her up, but somehow Cindy's enthusiasm, and Sketchy's threat to wipe the pool table with her, had awoken the part of her that just wanted to be normal and despite the fact that her very nature made this dream impossible, it was a desire she could never quench. Cindy was right all she needed was a nice, normal night out "kickin' it" with friends, "to loose the post Manticore blues."
Crash was almost a second home for Max, it had always been where she could just kick back and forget herself in order to have a good time. It looked the same as always, the same mass of people, teaming with emotion, the familiar odor of urine wafting from the gents, the smell of stale beer and tobacco hung in the air, clinging to the dark corners. The smoke, from a hundred languid hands that held smoldering cigarettes, sat suspended at eye level making the already dark establishment appear almost gothic at first. But tonight something was different. The patrons were radiating joy, and with Seattle in its current state, this was a miracle. But as Max and Cindy ventured further into the dark, they noticed the reason for the emotional uplift.
In the back corner there had always been a stage, generally however it was used as a storage space, with chairs stacked up against the wall, broken tables and other assorted junk lying at their feet, but tonight a four- piece band graced the dusty wood set up in a diamond shape, with the drummer's kit in front of the backstage door. They should have known, after all the music was far better than the trash that usually came from the jukebox.
"Hey Max," a goofy voice called though the crowded mass. Lifting her head she scoped for the owner of the familiar voice. He was young, not unlike her, with a messy head of hair - usually covered by a beanie - that hung on his face like limp strands of rope. Despite his drongo appearance there was nothing but a sweet personality behind his brown eyes.
"Hey Sketch," She smiled as he push through the crowd. She imagined it looked somewhat like the parting of the red sea, if only Moses were stoned and elbowing the water out of the way. "How goes it," she laughed, knocking fists with him in a friendly greeting.
"Like a buckle free wheel," Sketchy said, nodding a greeting to Cindy. He always seemed much more intellectual after a few joints. Which said a lot about him, because while the analogy wasn't ingenious, the clean Sketch would have had trouble saying the words, let alone thinking them up. "What do you think of the band?"
Max looked up. They sounded much the same as a lot of bands; the same practiced drumbeats, and nothing special from either of the guitarist - bass or electric. The real saver though, was the singer's voice. It was pure beauty, like a rose freshly sprinkled from the morning rain.
"Not bad," Cindy began, attempting to voice the opinion that Max had also formulated. "But the lead singer."
"Is hotter than a Californian blonde in a mini skirt," Alec finished, placing one arm around each of the girls. He was fresh from the bar and held two pitchers of beer, one in each hand. His brown hair hung in his eyes, which glimmered with mischief. Max turned to him, her face contorted in disbelief.
"Is that all you think about?" She looked up him, her brow furrowed in disgust.
Alec turned to Sketchy. "No," He said, a playful smile rested on his face, the only sign that the statement lacked validity. "At the moment I'm thinking about getting into those hot pants," he joked. Sketchy laughed briefly, before catching the disturbing glares radiating from both Cindy and Max. Finding himself in a somewhat compromising position his face fell. He looked from the two young girls to the singer and back again.
"But but," he whimpered, gesturing to the girl. Max just shook her head, while Cindy left him with a "tut-tut-tut."
"Come on guys, look at her," he pleaded for forgiveness, if not a little understanding as he gestured towards her.
She was indeed beautiful. The blue light illuminating her smooth face, forming shadows that accentuated her fine features and clear complexion. Her thick pink lips peeked out from behind the microphone that she held in her dainty gloved fingertips, an adorable smile evident from the cute creases the corners of her mouth made as she sang. And every time she moved to the particularly upbeat song, the lights scattered through her blue curls, catching the prisms woven in her shoulder length hair, and across silky long legs, that would have made even Barbie envious.
"They're not bad," Max conceded, as the group watched the mysterious singer and her band perform. They were so energetic that it became clear that the crowd was feeding off their presence, their bouncing dance moves. But more surprisingly, the band seemed to make direct eye contact with the entire audience at the same time as they span around in circles or jumped into the air. It was like a sharing of souls in an effort to better understand the music. It was truly amazing to witness.
Alec watched intently, feeling glued to girls dancing frame. Her arms and legs moved so fluently that it appeared effortless. He found himself wondering if she was there or not. It was clear she had noticed his attention, his eyes glued to her frame was an obvious give away, and by the smile on her face it was clear she didn't mind. So much so that after a turn, while her bosom still heaved and her blue locks covered one eye, she winked the uncovered ocean blue eye.
Sketchy thumped Alec in the side, "The "blonde" has a thing for you," he joked. Alec looked slightly flushed. In the brief nanoseconds that his eyes had met hers he had felt a sudden unpleasant rush through his body. Never easily disturbed he began to wonder about the girl. About her life and her personality.
"Yeah, the drooling is a give away," Max slammed. "Come on Sketch, I want to cream you on the table" She laughed leading the group of friends across the venue, to the pool tables and their usual hang out. The group followed eagerly. They all knew that Max was a wizard with a cue and a game with her was not something to be missed. Alec however, did not follow. Strangely attracted to the vivacious singer, he felt that moving from her image would be blasphemous. It wasn't just her gorgeous looks and angelic voice; there was something behind those blue eyes. Something strange
"Alec," Cindy scolded from ahead. "The chick's going to think you're a mad arse stalker or something if you keep macking her with those eyes." She warned before turning and walking towards the table where Sketchy and Max had already racked up, and now leant lazily around the table, cues in their hands. Alec sighed. He couldn't place nor justify the sick feeling he had and as the song ended, he decided there was no use dwelling on it and followed Cindy; after all she was just a harmless beauty.
He had just reached the table when he heard the screams. Like a hundred car alarms all going off at once, the terrifying sound pierced the night, as patrons scrambled for any cover they could find. Some lucky ones dived under flimsy tables, the rest were forced to stand, as they had been seconds before. Startled by the frightening sound, the group turned to witness the commotion. They could see the growing fear in the eyes of the crowd. Women's faces drained to a deathly white, while tears welled in the eyes of the men. Max was sure she saw a woman faint but she fell into the crowd, so she couldn't be sure.
"Stay here, and stay down," she order her friends, who without knowing what was going on, were stricken with fear. Within seconds, the atmosphere in the bar had changed dramatically, the air tasted of fear. Max and Alec looked at each other. Neither of them wanted to do it, Alec even less. Even looking anything other than frightened in this situation made them suspicious and jeopardized their safety but Max had a soft spot for the helpless and Alec, well he was curious.
The pool table was in a small alcove, and a wall blocked their view. The faces of the disturbed on lookers were turned towards the stage as before. They guessed the situation must have something to do with the band. Hugging the wall Alec moved towards the crowd. He hoped to use them as cover as he surveyed the situation. Max had followed and was now standing next to him. He could feel her warmth and shivered. In any other situation he would have enjoyed such a position, but now it just irritated him.
Pausing to take a breath, Alec wondered what he would see when he turned. Would she be dead, would her body lay blood stained on the ground? "Go," Max, hissed, awakening Alec from his daydream. He peered around the corner. It was as if his head spun, and the world dropped away into a thick haze. Nothing seemed to be in focus, not the crowd in front of him, not the bar to the left, only the large silver pistols resembling colts that the lead singer had cocked in at the audience.
He swallowed before turning back to Max; perhaps it was worse than he feared. "The singer has gone all Rambo woman on us," he said pretending to chuckle.
"What she's packing?" Max asked slightly confused at his round about language. Alec nodded. Max crawled past him, hitting Alec hard in the chest as she went past, to get a look for herself. The lead singer appeared to be holding the audience hostage, yet she wasn't talking. The other band members appeared unarmed.
"This is bad," she grumbled as she turned back. She had no clue what to do. Should she get her friends out of there and leave the rest of them to the seemingly mad woman, or should she risk her new life, for the sack of some strangers. Her selflessness took over. With their backs pressed up against the wall, heads dropped to the ground, the pair looked defeated, but in reality they were searching their minds for a viable plan, now certain they must.
"Okay," Max started. "How about you go around the back through the door behind the drummer and take out the gunner, while I get the people out?" She asked him. That was unusual she normally told him what to do.
"You want me to take on all four of them," he grimaced jokingly.
"Well you were the one who couldn't take your eyes off her, thought you'd relish the chance to get close." She hissed. Alec rolled his eyes but made his way silently towards a door behind the pool table which he hoped lead to a corridor, that in turn would lead to the backstage entrance. Max followed, wanting to get her friends out, before the tousle began.
"Come on guys, we've got to get out of here." She said calmly perhaps too calmly. Grabbing hold of Cindy's hand, she ran, hunched over, towards the front door, using the height of the crowd as cover from the gunner's eyes. She reached up and opened the door. The cold night air hit her in the chest. "Okay out," she whispered.
Turning back towards Alec as she ushered Cindy and Sketchy out the door. She watched as he disappeared into the back of the club before sneaking into the audience. Her heart was beating rapidly, the situation was out of control, and she really didn't have a clue as to what she was doing.
Meanwhile Alec had made his way behind stage, through a dark passage, lit only by flickering overhead lights. He had regained some of his bravado; Max's heartfelt comments always did that to him. He raised his heavily clad foot and rammed it into the door with the force of his weight. The hinges squealed as the metal deformed, straining against him, before the screws were ripped from their bindings and the door crashed down upon the drummer, his cymbals thrashed loudly from the collision. Alec grinned proudly. One down, he thought.
It all happened within seconds of the door crashing down. He stepped out onto stage, a sly grin crossing his face as the bass player stepped to him wielding his guitar like a weapon. The young man looked fear stricken, but determined. However nothing incited more pleasure in Alec than a scared victim. It gave him a chance to play. The basest flung the guitar towards him, but Alec dodged it with ease, laughing as it swung past him and crashed into the wall behind him, splinters clattering to the floor. He shook his head and walked towards the boy. The boy eyes fell as Alec advanced. He stumbled backwards apprehensively. Alec grasped him by his shoulders, lifting him from the floor, and flung him into the wall.
"Okay OUT!" He heard Max scream, as the guitarist slid down the wall unconscious. He turned to see the lead guitarist jump off stage and run scared into the fleeing audience hoping to be lost. The thought only made him smile. This had been far easier than even he had imagined.
The glint of light reflecting from metal told him the singer was no longer poised on the audience. He grinned and faced her, eyes gleaming as if she was an easy target, the same sly grin falling across his handsome face.
"Nice guns," He said hands hanging by his side nonchalantly. He was surprised when she raised one of her blue sculpted eyebrows.
"Is that what you think?" She asked rolling her wrists so they caught the light and shimmered. "That I couldn't take you without them?" She asked defensively still examining her weapons in the light.
"Hey gorgeous, I never said that, seems you are a little touchy." He launched moving towards her, hands up, palms facing her in mock submission. The singer arched her eyebrow further. Narrowing her lips she tucked the weapons into the back of her already tight hot pants. The cold metal against her skin caused her to shiver. She opened her stance and smiled. It was clear; she would not let him get the best of her.
"Bring it on big boy," she jibed. Alec didn't need another invitation; he sprang forth thrusting a punch towards her face. Absently, she blocked it, following with a wide snapping kick to his side. Alec was so shocked that this slight girl had blocked his punch effortlessly that her kick caught him unaware and the sheer precision of the attack resulted in a crippling impact and he fell to the floor.
"Oh poor baby," she laughed standing over him, a triumphant smile on her face. It was clear she thought she had won. Rising to his feet Alec advanced once more, performing a high spinning kick that sliced through the air like a fan, cleaving through the smoky mist. She ducked quickly, and the leg flew over her head. She felt it rip through her hair. She stumbled backwards. As she regained her footing her face was clouded with confusion and apprehension yet her eyes held his intrusive gaze determinedly. He stepped forwards and at that precise moment she countered with a hitch kick that snapped at his chin. With a simple twist of his head, the kick missed and Alec was able to connect fist to her unguarded chest. She toppled back into the wall.
Winded and disorientated, it was easy for Alec to grasp her forearms and pin her to the wall. He could feel her strain and twist beneath him, forcing her arms from the wall. She was incredibly strong for her size. Alec had to strain to push her back. It was a strange game of tug of war.
"So who was right?" He asked a sly grin in place, despite the work he put into holding her against the wall. She looked up at him, her chest heaving as she breathed, and flashed the same adorable smile that had left Alec so confused before. She lifted her chin, and forced her face towards his, her moist lips parting. Alec didn't know what to think, a beautiful woman, who'd just tried to kill him, was trapped beneath his arms and appeared to be enjoying it. He leant in expecting to be welcomed with warm lips, but instead was startled when her eyes flashed an eerie purple.
In the moment that he was lost in her eyes, she snapped her leg towards his inner thigh, connecting with such force his leg lifted towards the roof. She watched his face screw up, and felt his grip weaken. In the same fluent motion, she snapped her leg into his side once more. He fell to the ground, releasing her and coughing painfully. She stepped towards the coughing frame. Standing above him she flung a series of controlled yet forceful kicks into his side, each one lifting him from the floor. He moaned and curled up in an effort to protect himself. She grinned, and unleashed a kick at the hunched figure so powerful it flung him onto his back.
He lay wounded, sprawled across the dusty stage floor, his breathing stressed. She smiled and stepped around him, until she was above his head. She reached behind her and pulled out one of her pistols. Alec lay beneath her too hurt to move. Alec felt his throat swell in apprehension. He tried to stand but the pain was crippling.
"I'm always right," She smiled sweetly without a hint of Sinicism, or darkness in her voice. She seemed oddly aware, and happy as if it was all a big joke. She placed her finger on the trigger and pulled back gently. Alec closed his eyes and braced himself for the death that seemed so inevitable. Then he heard it, the harmless click of an unloaded gun. He opened his eyes, and saw the same adorable smile she had unleashed before. He wasn't dead. She had no intension of killing him. He groaned in the wake of these revelations. She silently dropped the gun onto his chest and scrambled across the broken stage door and out the back and into the darkness of the night.
Just then, Max made it back into the venue having finally cleared the audience. "Alec," she cried concerned. She ran up onto stage and dropped to her knees beside him. He coughed and rolled his head to the side. He'd been beaten by a girl, a normal girl nonetheless. His pride had been dealt the strongest blow; he didn't have the power to deal with Max's sarcasm.
"Are you okay," she asked. He rolled his eyes and pushed himself to a sitting position despite his agony, the weapon tumbling down into his lap. His stomach ached; she'd sure given him a beating.
"She left this, some sort of memento," He sighed picking up the gun and tossing it to Max dejectedly. He watched as Max examined it, looking over the beautiful work. Even Max seemed to appreciate the workmanship, and that was saying something, with her distain for weapons.
"Unbelievable," She said in disgust tossing the weapon back to Alec. "Side of the barrel," she snapped. He picked it up and held the gun into the light. Engraved into the metal were a series of numbers.
"A phone number," Alec chuckled. "See that Max, rough love. I've still got it" He smirked.
"It better be the number to the morgue."