On Death Row
"Because you pissed me off," Shaad stated coldly, his katana dripping with the blood of the adult establishment's proprietor. Even more of the crimson liquid pooled around his feet as he stood over the headless body, eyes staring into the empty, lifeless orbs of the decapitated head with a malicious sneer.
Shaad's bloody boot prints marked his path from the upstairs room full of carnage back down the stairs and into the room the man he'd just killed had initially emerged from. The entire place was now silent and mostly empty, devoid of the lively presence it once held as only the death and destruction wreaked by Shaad remained. The main office was actually quite spacious and still in one piece save for the broken couch. As he looked around, Shaad noted that everything, from the desk off to the side and the large bookshelf against the wall to the chaise lounge situated across the room, was of the highest quality of worksmanship and made with only top of the line materials and woods. In addition to a gaudy flair for the dramatic, the now dead man apparently also possessed an affinity for the extravagant and exquisite, though the room seemed strangely scarce of small, valuable items and trinkets.
Shaad crossed around the ornately designed desk with slow, deliberate steps, surveying the loose papers and booklets strewn messily across the desktop. A slender, silver chain hanging along the worn bindings of a little leather bound black book caught Shaad's eye. Pulling on the chain, he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was his pendant. The discovery led him to open the booklet to the page it was being used to bookmark. There, among the messy, scribbled handwriting, the young captain was able to make out an itemized lists of his stolen property, including his clothes. While his clothes had already been crossed out, possibly trashed, his swords and sheath were marked with checkmarks while the pendant Shaad had once again placed securely around his neck was identified with an X and what amounted to an insanely low beli amount, most likely it's perceived worth; Shaad's belongings truly bookended the spectrum from near worthless to keep instead of sell with nothing in between. Closing the booklet, he placed it and a much sturdier looking book into pockets along the leg of the black pants he'd earlier appropriated with the thought, 'These could prove useful.'
Once that was done, Shaad was happy to see his sheath slung on the back of the high backed, plush office chair behind the desk and let a satisfied smile grace his lips at not only having found most of his stolen items, but not having to go through with the extremely unpleasant task of hunting down every person that had escaped the building that night to reclaim his property from looters, a thought that had briefly floated his venturous mind. Still, though, with his temper settled for the moment, he opened the armoire situated directly behind the desk in hopes of finding a leftover valuable that would appease Raine's animosity toward him, though the glass door upper half showed no such promise. Opening the lower doors - brute strength overcoming the simple lock - Shaad bore witness to a multitude of jewel encrusted accessories, but most striking was a black, blue, and gold fabergé egg with a design reminiscent of a large ship against the fierce gale of a starry night with daybreak on the horizon, all being engulfed by its base - the threatening, looming tentacles of a black kraken. The object provided Shaad a shocking reminder of his motivation: returning home in order to finally confront his father and crush his lingering demons.
As he further inspected the various pieces, an annoying ringing ripped his attentions away from the valuable collection. Ring-ring-ring. Shaad traced the noise to a den den mushi tucked away in the lower right hand drawer of the desk, letting it continue ringing as he contemplated what to do. Eventually he reached for the receiver, lifting it but not saying a word as a flustered and demanding voice echoed from the other end, the den den mushi portraying a grim expression and a scowl. "Rooster, why have one of your whores come rushing here screaming bloody murder!? There's only one reason a whore should be panting like a dog. . . and she doesn't look well fucked to me."
Shaad then heard the exhausted, timid voice of a woman pipe in through periods of sucking in lungfuls of air. "A-a-attack. . . S-struck. . . the madam. . . Tried. . . to kill. . . me."
"Kill?" Shaad drawled in a questioning manner at the implication, making it clear that it was not 'Rooster' they were talking to. He spoke slowly and almost playfully as he continued. "I only wanted to. . . show my appreciation for the lesson you and your friend taught me about securing my property. But, you both ran off before I could. Apologies if I went about it a tad. . . aggressively; if you'll tell me where you are, I can make up for that missed opportunity."
Shaad heard the young woman begin to panic before she was pushed away from the receiver, the den den mushi mimicking the change in expressions as the primary speaker switched back to the cold, deep voice from before. "Who are you and where's Rooster?" the voice demanded.
"Well. . . Rocket, Rodent, or whatever's head is probably still rolling from the gratitude I showed him," Shaad nonchalantly informed, the thinly veiled insinuation instantly understood by both of the people on the other end. "As for my name. . . I would tell you, but it's rude to ask someone's name without first introducing yourself, but frankly I don't care who you are."
The man on the other end obviously had experience dealing with brash and confident individuals as he didn't miss a beat in his response. "Well," he spoke contemplatively, "I was going to invite you here, where we would be waiting to return your gratitude tenfold, but if you don't want to know my name, then I take it that means your thanks was simply lip service. Otherwise you're free to thank the boss personally and in return we'll teach you another life lesson."
Shaad cracked a challenging smirk, relayed by the den den mushi on the other end, at the enticing provocation. He paused to mull over the declaration before speaking calmly and in warning. "I only came to reclaim what is mine; with it back, my anger is mostly sated. . . But if you wish to call it forward again, I'm sure there's plenty left over. Just know, what has been pushed down once cannot be held back a second time; rage, like an uneven blade swung by a giant, may cut roughly, may cut smoothly, but it will cut through. With that said. . . please, do tell."
"Good. I'm -"
"Though," Shaad interrupted, "l still don't care who you are. I'll kill you, the girl, and anyone else who stands in my way."
A busty blonde ran through the city's back streets as fast as she could. There was no sign of anyone pursuing her which meant the young man she'd helped to drug and rob was most likely after her partner. Still, though, they had planned to rally together in order to ambush any pursuant threat. She'd finally reached the designated spot, her bountiful chest rising and falling with each deep breath from how much she'd exerted herself. The fact that she'd arrived first wasn't much of a surprise. Despite the toned, dancer's body, her partner didn't have much in the way of stamina. It was one of the reasons the two worked so well together; in addition to the obvious contrasts, the blonde had a voracious sexual appetite and could go all night whereas her raven haired friend, was usually through after one good round.
"Waiting for someone," a soft voice asked from behind her.
She was bent over still trying to right her breathing as she waited. Upon hearing the voice, she immediately spun around on her heel as she responded. "Wow; that was. . . Who -"
Her words were cut short by a strong hand clamping down over her mouth, eyes widening from the surprise and the skinny, weasel faced man eyeing her ravenously as he toyed with the stiletto switchblade in his hands. She resisted frantically, squirming for all she was worth trying to escape, while the man hummed a sing-song tune, a cheshire cat smile on his thin lips as two others appeared beside him: a suave looking man in oversized sunglasses, a rabbit skin trilby, and a mink fur coat on his shoulders along with an attractive female with dangerous curves and an even more threatening demeanor.
The woman spoke first, her voice an irritated growl - "You cost us everything; you and that bitch partner of yours," - before the well-dressed man accompanying her piped in as well.
"After you two seduced our captain and had him killed, we lost it all, even the ship was taken from under us. What good is a black market merchant with no ship?"
"You will pay for your misdeeds, harlot."
"I'm going to rape your every orifice with this knife," the slender man threatened in a low, sinister tone, a creepy glee showing in his mocking smile as he brandished the full length of the six inch blade for her to see as he continued on, "before disemboweling and dismembering you as painfully and slowly as possible. Before your final screams die out, then, I'll have my turn with what's left."
"I know we've all long fantasized about what we'd do if given the chance for revenge - and with that fool brazenly attacking the Black Mafia Family, we finally have our chance - but she's worth more alive than dead."
The haunting smile of the sadistic necrophiliac faded slightly at the disclosure, and at the same time, a wave of relief presumptuously washed over the captive escort. But, both reactions were short lived as the chiseled, athletic man once again continued for her. "You seem to enjoy selling your body for the pleasure of men and women alike; we'll see how much you like it when we sell your everything to the highest bidder."
"All we have to do is carve that wretched brand off your back and you'll be a slave for the rest of your miserable life."
"And the best part about it is all the blame will lie with that newcomer. They'll probably kill him and enslave that woman he came here with."
A black bird cawed from high in a towering tree. The sound traveled far and wide, blending seamlessly with nature's other nighttime noises in the Upper East Side. The Upper East was largely quiet outside those sounds; unlike the unruly individuals and mass chaos of the Lower East Side, the Upper East was far more orderly with a certain classical elegance about it. But, the Upper East was less a district or borough of Blackwood and more its own private community, a sprawling compound that stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions.
Shaad strolled up to the front entrance, easily visible in the moonlight, with his swords already drawn.
"Look what we have here," a gruff voice called out as he pointed to the approaching Shaad.
"Who would be fool enough to come here," his partner questioned with confidence.
"I don't know, but the boss told us he'd invited some idiot tonight."
"To think he'd actually show; he must be a fool of epic proportions."
"Just stick to the plan. The boss won't accept failure."
"I know; I don't get why we're putting all this towards one man, though. The fact he killed Rooster makes him stupid not a threat."
The two guards quietly conversed outside the compound's main gate even as Shaad drew closer. They each thought little of the young pirate but were well trained enough to keep a hand on the weapons hidden inside their jackets nonetheless, arms crossed to make the action as inconspicuous as possible. Once Shaad was within speaking range, the more belligerent of the two let his disdain be known. "You're a fool to come here. There are easier ways to die, but now you've doomed anyone who knows you."
Shaad ignored the threat and commanded, "Open the gate and get out of my way; I'm in no mood to waste energy on two idiots."
The guards bristled at Shaad's tone and gripped their weapons tighter, though still kept their composure. They were far more worried of their own superior's wrath than cutting out one loose tongue; the exchange was simply not worth it. So, they swallowed their frustrations and opened the gate behind them just wide enough for Shaad to slip through without another word. Shaad moved between them, feeling the heat of their gazes as he had to turn his body to get between the two beefy men.
When Shaad made it through the crack in the heavy gate, he was hardly surprised by the sight that awaited him. Before him stood almost thirty men in identical suits with various firearms all aimed at him and ready. He didn't bother to look back, knowing it was a trap even before he heard the gates slam shut behind him. However, even without turning around he was aware and prepared enough to flip his swords and drive them through the two stunned guards as they attacked from behind, machetes dropping lazily from their raised arms.
With those two already killed, the numerous men before him as well as the cannoneer tucked away atop the gate all opened fire. In that instant, though, Shaad had disappeared, leaving the two guards' bodies to be riddled with bullet holes and even suffer a cannonball explosion to the back. Shaad reappeared on top of the gate, crouched on the cannon's barrel and leveling a chilling stare at the cannoneer. Before the large man's focused expression could even shift to one of fear or dismay, his head was separated from his shoulders by Shaad's crossing blades. And with a graceful backflip, Shaad landed in the center of the gun toting ambush group, switching to a traditional grip of his swords while dropping into a crouched fighting stance.
The simultaneous clang of each of the suited men's guns dropping to the ground filled the air as they each pulled out a close range weapon of their own, the prominent choices being machetes, pipes and knuckle duster knives. In unison, the mob converged on the lone intruder, weapons raised and ready. Shaad sucked in a deep breath, clenching his swords tighter and twisting with all his might as he bellowed, "Rise of Evil!" With wide, arcing swings, he brought his two swords around and up, conjuring such a powerful, slicing vortex of wind that all of the men surrounding him were lifted from the ground, their helpless bodies flailing as the slicing winds cut into them viciously and relentlessly. But, Shaad's attack wasn't through yet as he flipped the direction of his swords' blades, retracing the flow of his previous swing in reverse. And, with another rise in his voice, called, "Fall of Man." As if gravity had suddenly been cut back on and increased, the fierce winds reversed, slamming the unfortunate victims into the ground with bone jarring force, creating craters, shattering bones, and causing some to cough up blood as the full weight of the attack bared down, adding to the external damage with severe internal damage and crushing contusions.
Shaad immediately fell to a knee, chest rising and falling with strained effort as he attempted to stabilize his breathing, joined only by the carefree breeze blowing through the field of dead and near dead around him. He stayed like that for a few minutes, listening as the number of pained coughs slowly died down, before picking himself up, the inflamed voice in his head riling him further. 'We don't have time for this. This level will have to do.' With that thought, Shaad trudged on, his anger boiling beneath the surface as he continued, ready as he could be given the circumstances, to face what lay ahead.
Meanwhile, perched quietly in the darkness above, beady, red eyes peered down ominously, overseeing his approach. A single, monstrous looking raven lurked in the shadows of a building's high roof, hidden by its own ebony plumage, its four solid eyes following Shaad before it cocked its head and released a silent caw, revealing what looked to be a human eye lodged deep in its throat, the hidden eye blinking creepily as Shaad stepped to the undamaged doors leading to the inner sanctum of the compound, before flying away using its four powerful wings.