The Henchman, Chapter Three
I don’t think I want to publish Calm Before the Storm. I think its fine as an online web-story, but I don’t think its cut of the same cloth as other stories, at least not yet. Maybe later on in the series when people get a chance to see how deep some of the characters are, maybe they’ll give it a chance then, but right now I just don’t think I did a good enough job investing time in character development in those character upfront because I wasn’t sure what I wanted them to be because the players’ actions were not in-sync with my vision for the characters they were given. But its not for me to tell someone “Hey, you can’t play that character that way!” unless they’re doing something completely ridiculous or off-the-wall or flat out random, but if their actions fit within the realm of the story, and the realm of the character, then sometimes I just have to sit back and let it be. Unfortunately what happens is this causes the story to be a bit top heavy; you go through a lot of just crazy, people running around shooting things trying to kill them and not much reason as to how or why any of it is going on. As a game master and a story teller, it was my duty to introduce key elements to the story to allow the characters to figure out plot and who was pulling the strings and all that, and for the first six or seven sessions (sessions last from three to six hours) all my players/characters did was run/escape, and it wasn’t until after I introduced two new characters (Harold C Clark, and Keith Stone) that some of the plot and story architecture was finally being revealed. I realize my story requires a lot of patience to read because of this, and I also realize this has made me lose many of you as readers because you don’t know anything about these characters running around and abandoning eachother, but if you take the time, you will.
So, instead of devoting all of my attention to Calm Before the Storm, I will be instead switching my artistic endeavors solely to The Henchman, which I am REALLY excited about. Every night before I go to bed, my mind takes me to one of my stories and I live out a really complex scene or a series of shorter scenes or shots in my head, to get a feel for the story, or maybe so the story can show me what I am getting into, and this one will give me many opportunities to introduce interesting characters, with tough decisions and grimy settings to feel like you’re all there right beside him. The way I see it in my head I really enjoy it, so all I have to do is sit down and be patient and allow the characters and the story to come to me; let’s see if I can do something in The Henchman that I couldn’t do in Calm Before the Storm. Let us see:
The Henchman: Chapter Three
We didn’t knock. Good guys and cops knock, and we weren’t neither, at the moment. Fortunately for us, the door was unlocked, or he had locked it but had not pushed hard enough against the frame, so we were able to gently push the door open with little resistance.
“What a fuckin’ mess.”
Phil didn’t say it all that loud, but I still didn’t want to risk talking myself, so I simply nodded my head in response, but Phil had made the understatement of the night. Immediately I saw holes in the walls all over the place, no doubt from all the frat boy and brobot parties this particular hallway had seen. At some point, the police had come and surrounded the house with do-not-cross tape, but someone had stolen it and ran it along the walls inside like some kind of clever new interior design for seedy low lives who couldn’t afford a trip out to IKEA. Broken bottles, the smell of piss, animal or human, I couldn’t tell, all assaulted my senses at once, leaving me to bring my right hand up to my nose to try and block some of the stench, which now I detected either some kind of rotten food or cheese, or perhaps someone defected on the floor in the next room. I couldn’t tell and I was happy not knowing the difference at the moment as the three of us made our way down the hallway. I had no idea where we were going, but it was easy to follow behind Phil as he seemed to know exactly where he was going. After no less than half a minute, and a few turns around a few corners, Phil held up his darkened, hairy-knuckled left hand in a balled up fist, which I assumed meant stop. So, I stopped, immediately, and Charles, who was looking at whatever was giving off that horrid smell, didn’t seem to see Phil’s signal, and kept walking, right into my back, which pushed me forward, and into Phil’s large back. There was a shitty dresser with no drawers or anything on it besides an empty pizza box and some beer bottles right next to us, and so Phil was able to steady himself from moving from our combined wait falling into him; he pushed into my chest with his left hand, as Charles was still reeling from the bump where his forehead connected with the back of my head. None of us fell over, and it wasn’t all that loud, but nonetheless, Phil gave me and Charles the hardest, meanest look without seeing a single word: his eyes were furrowed into two intense ninety degree angles, and his mouth formed into a scowl that would even give Batman pause and cause him to have a flashback of Bane or two. I also turned and looked back at Charles, who looked extremely distressed and nervous but only offered a shrug and frown in response. Phil, without turning his body, extended his left arm, and pointed to a door five feet away from us. Now that we were all focusing, we could hear something coming from the room. It was the sound of death metal, or some guy screaming and an electric guitar wailing behind him, on an old school boom box, as two people grunted and groaned their way to satisfaction over the sound of the music.
“Fuck me harder, you dirty cock!”
The voice was a bit high and valley-girl-ish, which made it sound a bit silly, to me, at the moment, but the three of us all stood, and listened, as Magdus responded:
“You like that you dirty cunt? Want me to fuck you like the rich daddy’s girl that you are?”
She cooed in pleasure.
“Fuck me, daddy! I’ve been a bad girl, how are you gonna punish me?”
The sound of someone’s flesh, presumably her ass, being smacked resounded through the hallway.
“By fucking you like the little whore that you are. Come here, you bitch!”
Now there were sounds of pain, mixed in with moans and sighs, as the two progressed from foreplay to assplay. Phil had had enough; he moved forward and with one swift blow from the heel of his boot, sent the door crashing into the wall to the right of it. Immediately the blonde haired co-ed on the right, squealed and wrapped herself in only piece of shit blanket in the room. This left Magdus sitting on the bed, naked, sweaty, with his legs spread, and dick clearly exposed and losing gravitas.
“You. Out. Now!” Phil pointed at the girl and said the first two words before shouting the third.
She didn’t hesitate to gather what little crap she had, and go streaming past me and Charles standing in the hallways. I smiled at the girl as she walked past me, and then proceeded to walk into the room. Charles did the same. Now it was three of us, and one of him, still slightly buzzed, or high, or doped up, or something. I couldn’t tell, but at the moment, he looked a little worried.
Magdus was looking around at us, looking at all three of our faces. I threw a dirty piece of something from the floor at him and told him to “Cover the fuck up.” He complied, placing the dirty pair of drawers over his exposed genitals, while sitting up, and using his other hand to wipe the greasy shoulder length hair from his face. His face was gaunt and sparsely populated with facial hair; it looked like he either couldn’t afford a new razor, or just didn’t care to take the time to ever shave evenly. There were popmarks all over the left side of his face, and a series of bruises and scars on his right. His blue eyes darted back and forth, before finally resting on Phil’s face.
“What the fuck is your guys’ problem?”
Phil shook his head. “You really are a fucking idiot, you know that, right?”
Magdus looked confused, but a little angry. “Bullshit, you’re just fucking nazi Gestapo around here and think you’re above the law or something because you work security. Well, man, I hate to break it to you, but you’re not, and if you don’t leave now, I’m going to have to call the police—“
Now he was starting to get up. Phil stepped forward and pushed him down with his right hand.
“Easy, you’re not going anywhere, and neither are we until we get what we came for.”
Magdus’ comparatively small frame bounced against the shitty mattress as he continued to stare up at Phil.
“And what did you come for, exactly, tough guy?”
Phil eyed him for a second before responding. “You walked out on a five hundred dollar bill tab. You knew Flo was a new bartender, and you knew no one told her to not let you open a tab. You’re a fucking asshole, and you’re gonna pay. You give us six hundred dollars, five hundred for the tab, and one hundred for OUR trouble,” he gestured with his hand, making a circling motion towards me and Charles, “and we’ll be on our way.”
Magdus shook his head. “You know I don’t have that kind of money.”
Phil smiled. “Yeah, I know, which is why we’re going to have fun beating the shit out of you instead. Charles, New Guy, grab him!”
Immediately Charles lunged forward, and I did , too, going for the front of the bed as Charles went for the right side. Magdus seeing we were approaching decided to come right at me, as I was the only thing standing between him and the door. The dirty boxers he was using to cover himself fell to the bed, and now he was on his feet coming towards me as fast as he could. I sidestepped, immediately hearing Phil groan as he thought I was letting him get away, but instead of letting the creep slip by me, I latched out my hand and gripped the root of his greasy, dirty hair, yanking back as hard as I could in the opposite direction. Magdus’ feet came off the floor, and his body, with them, as I threw him onto his back, onto the ground, and stood over him, placing my boot to his neck.
Charles came over, quickly, and grabbed him just underneath his shoulder, allowing me to do the same on the other side, and the two of us lifted him off the ground and threw him back onto the bed.
“You’re not going anywhere, but don’t worry, we’ll help you get real comfortable,” And with that, Phil brought his oversized fist down onto the man’s stomach bare, exposed stomach. The loud meat-smacking sound echoed through the room, and Magdus let out an equally loud groan while he slacked against the hold me and Charles had put on him.
“Place him against the wall.”
We lifted him up off the bed, and slammed into the wall opposite the one with the dresser and the now quiet Boombox. Dust and dirt came drifting down off the walls, falling all over the tops of all three of our heads. Phil began to walk over slowly.
“One last chance. Where’s our money?”
Now Magdus sounded exasperated, desperate, even. “I told you I don’t fucking have it!”
Phil smiled. “That’s too bad.”
Phil’s left hand snaked out, striking Magdus in almost the exact same spot he had hit him earlier while he was being restrained on the bed. This caused Magdus to lurch forward, which Phil was anticipating, giving him the perfect momentum to land an overhand blow with his dominant right hand. Blood shot from Magdus’ mouth and nose, some if spraying against the wall, some it landing on Charles’ face and shirt.
“Stop! Just stop, I’ll tell you where it is, just, please, fucking stop,” Now he seemed to be sobbing. I turned and looked at Phil; Phil narrowed his eyes and nodded, so I stepped back and released Magdus’ arms from the wall. When Charles stepped back, Magdus whole body slumped to the ground.
“Well, where is it?” Phil was getting impatient, while Charles looked for something clean to wipe the blood off his face.
Magdus spit some blood out on the ground in front of him. “Under the mattress. Between them.”
I kicked the top mattress off with my boot, exposing something lying in between the mattress and the springboard: a small tan leather satchel with a zipper. Using my right hand I grabbed it and tossed it too Phil all in one motion. Phil opened it, looked inside, smiled, looked at me, nodded, looked at Charles, who was rubbing at the side of his face with a white t-shirt he found somewhere, and said “Alright, this will do. Let’s go, boys.” I turned in place and started to walk out, with Charles following right behind me. Phil was the last out the of the room before stopping in the doorway, turning, and looking at Magdus directly.
“Next time pay your fucking tab.”
Phil stepped through the doorway, and all three of us stepped outside into the fresh air with the only thing illuminating our features being the sparse lighting the moon shown down upon us, making our outlines look dark and heavy against the summer nighttime landscape that lay around us.
Wow. I’ll have to edit that but. Wow. I am okay with having wrote that. It was tough I won’t lie. Its tough writing from the perspective of bad guys. But its fun and challenging and I enjoy the struggles I am facing. Hope you enjoyed and hope it wasn’t too vulgar. Feedback please! :D