Decay
Chapter #6: Full-frontal Failure.
I knew that Dib was staring daggers at my back, and I didn't care. The boy wanted information I knew I couldn't tell, lest he decide to confront me again."Hey Zim!" the boy called.
I stopped to look at him. His face was awash in curiosity. "What is it, Dib-creature?"
"Are you still trying to take over the world? Is that what you were trying to do at my dad's abandoned lab?"
"Yes, and no." I said, "My quest for world domination is forestalled for economic reasons, and I was simply completing work for an employer."
"And you got shot?" He seemed skeptical. "I took a look around before I took you home. Those guards were long dead before you came out. I know your style. Despite your mission you haven't killed a single human directly."
"Competition." I muttered. "Although you will find I killed Danny, Greg, and company downstairs.
"What competition? There was nobody else who left but you."
"Schlotzky's, or something. No, it was Panchsky. A freelance squad-leader. Or maybe he has his own private army that he carts around to do his dirty work."
"Panchsky, this is a familiar name," the man remarked. I would say boy, but I couldn't, not when he was so tall. "Are you sure you're not in too deep?"
"I've been too deep since I started this work." I said, "Nothing's changed. Get some sleep, Dib. Forget I even exist."
. "Whatever." I started to turn away once more, but the man stopped me once more, "Zim?"
"What?" I said irritatedly.
"Stay safe, just so I can dissect you later." He waved. "I expect answers, alien scum." I started walking.
I'd be getting some answers for myself first.
Later.
After I had cleaned up my safehouse and loaded up on supplies, I went back to the "scene of the crime" as it were. I noted where Panchsky and his men had parked their car, and the skidmarks, both inbound and outbound. "They were in a rush." I muttered. I passed through the gatehouse and inside the building, hopping over the railing into the drying puddle of my own blood. Ignoring any pretense of stealth, I punched the elevator's 'down' button impatiently and tapped my foot as I heard it hum it's way up.
With a ding the elevator doors popped open, and a familiar click made me freeze. One of Panchsky's men stood inside the elevator, staring daggers at me whilst aiming his shotgun at my head. "Fuck."
"Heh, the Boss said to stay behind, and for good reason, it seems." Said the grunt. "Any last words, punk?"
"Not particularly, but that's because I've never been good at my parting statements."
"Shut the fuck up, kid." he muttered.
I opened my mouth in an attempt to bargain, and he pulled the trigger.
A Change of Perspective
Zim laid upon the ground in shock; the pellets from the shotgun blast had sent him flying backwards. Leonard- for that is the name of this particular goon- laughed menacingly as the pint sized annoyance bled out upon the cold floor. "Money in the bank," he said while lighting up a smoke.
Money in the bank indeed. He let the cigarette hang between his lips while he dialed his boss' number. One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings. "What is it?" growled the voice on the other end of the line.
"Hey boss, I got him." Leonard said.
"So he wasn't dead after all?"
"He is now."