Determinants of Demand
Ch. 3 – Results of Thievery
Azrukhal toyed with the front leather of her armor, his fingers curling in it and pulling her closer. She shuddered, unable to stop from grabbing his wrist, panic written clearly in her eyes. Her free hand reached for her pocket, where the paper was tucked safely away, but just as she had slipped her fingers inside, Charon was behind her, latching onto her forearm once more. She meant to glare up at him menacingly, but Azrukhal had something different in mind. He yanked her closer, twisted around, and shoved her toward an unmade bed in the corner, partially hidden by a fold-out screen. She lost her balance, stumbled, and crashed onto the bed, her legs hanging over at the knees. The slimy ghoul was between those knees in seconds.
She fought to push him away with one hand while she went for the paper in her pocket with the other. He grabbed that arm at the wrist, twisting forcefully. "I don't know what you keep going for, but..." His voice trailed off, breath hitching, as his spidery fingers worked their way under the leather at her neck. Her skin felt like satin beneath his fingertips. The contact only made her more insistent as she struggled, hell-bent on reaching the scrap of yellow paper.
Charon had long since turned away, unable to bear the sight of the two of them, him relentless, her frightened and unwilling. It was much harder to ignore her voice. Her quiet, desperate pleas pricked at his ears, the breathless sounds causing his control to waver. Before he knew it, blood was surging downward, and he gritted his teeth even as a bulge became evident in his pants. In that moment, he absolutely couldn't ignore the sound of flesh striking flesh, and he turned, light-headed. Azrukhal had hit her again. The first time had infuriated Charon, and this was no different.
For the second time that night, he was caught off guard when the girl, in a rush of red rage, raised her fist to punch him back. The ghoul bodyguard was at their side just as her fist smashed into the smirking face of his employer, her other hand successfully in her pocket. Charon made a grab for her, but froze when she lifted the yellow paper between them. Her eyes met his. The grey pleaded with his shocked blue.
Azrukhal was the first to recover. "Charon!" he snapped. "Take it from her!"
The ghoul bodyguard had his eyes locked intensely on the paper, his chest still as he held his breath. The girl backed away, the paper still raised in the air as though a shield.
When she spoke, her voice wavered slightly. "You know what this is...and you know what it means."
Charon certainly did, because he let a slow, crooked smirk spread over his face as he fingered the worn shotgun on his back. His cold blue gaze turned on Azrukhal. The sleazy ghoul gulped, crying out, "Now hold on one minute!"
"I'm no longer under your employ, you ugly bastard."
The unfortunate bartender froze where he was, hands clenching and unclenching at the stained material of his suit. The girl slid off the bed and halfway behind Charon, clenching the paper in her hands, her calculating grey stare cutting into him. Azrukhal's tortured eyes landed on her, and he lunged madly. "You bitch! GIVE IT BACK!"
Charon stepped in the way, and Azrukhal crumpled against his massive, solid form. The former bodyguard hauled him up by the lapel of his suit jacket and withdrew the shotgun from his back. Azrukhal squirmed violently, swearing and threatening the two individuals in front of him. "Charon, damn you, let me go this instant! You stupid fuck, I said let go!" Charon chuckled darkly, the sound rumbling through his chest. Azrukhal sputtered, struggling, panicking, and sobbing. "You can't do this," he choked out. "You can't do this!"
Charon's hand twisted tighter in the lapel as he raised the shotgun to press the cold steel against the front of his forehead.
There were no final words from Charon, no cliché puns, no witty remarks. He merely pulled the trigger, and Azrukhal's head exploded in a mass of red and grey pulp. Most of the gore splattered onto the wall, but some of it made its way to Charon, coating him in the bloody mess. He replaced the shotgun on his back, tore most of the coat off, and released the now-headless body. Before he turned to his new employer, he carefully wiped his face clean.
The girl was standing stock-still, rigid, her grey eyes unable to leave the form of Azrukhal. Her hand had crumpled the contract.
Charon turned to her and immediately noticed a small spatter of blood on her cheek. He raised his hand to her face, running the calloused thumb over it, smearing a little bit, but removing most of it.
"You are now my employer. I will follow you to the ends of the Earth if I must, and I am sworn to your bidding."
The girl looked up at him, her freckles standing out in stark contrast to her paled skin. He had been right in his first sighting of her. She was definitely small. If she were to wrap her arms around him, (which he knew would get him immediately into trouble) her head would probably fall just short of level with his shoulders. There was something endearing about her smallness, something that made him go light-headed all over again. The animalistic side of him loved the idea of his new employer; she was small, delicate, stubborn, and vulnerable. The advantage he would have was strength. If he wanted, he could take her right now, without resistance, and his lips curled up slightly at the thought.
But then rationality took over, and he mentally smacked himself for the second time. Where had all his morals gone? He scoffed. It was probably the years of being chained to Azrukhal that'd turned him into such a sadistic monster.
Instead of thinking any further about his new master's utter vulnerability, or about his old master's ass-ish ways, he focused on the matter at hand.
"What is your name?"
The girl blinked. Her eyes, wide as a frightened doe's, returned to their normal size, bits of her bold personality slowly returning. She raised her chin slightly.
"Rose." She said it with such defiance, as though to challenge him.
He definitely questioned the name. As fitting as it was for her in her vulnerability, Charon could see the intense side of her in her eyes, like before when she had glared at him. In this way, she seemed to almost have a split personality. But then, perhaps he just hadn't seen the whole thing at once. The unfortunate wording of his thought made his fingertips tingle with the urge to grab her and press her against a wall and bite her white flesh to stain it red.
He rubbed at his eyes with one hand. She might just end up being the most difficult employer he would ever have.
Oh dear, I've made Charon a bit deviant, I think...
Reviews? Please...