Fang Talks

The fuck is that?
30 06 14

Caves, p98

When we last left our hero, short recaps like these hadn’t been written in ages. (previous)

‘I said not now.’ Warren grumbled. His voice came from under his desk. When Mitchell slammed the door shut, he slowly emerged. He wiped some liquid off his chin. ‘Mitchell,’ he said, barely audible. There was a faint scent of alcohol hanging in the room. ‘I thought you could listen.’
Mitchell ignored his remark. ‘Looks like you heard?’ he said, with his upper lip subtly raised in disgust. ‘About Andrea?’
‘Oh trust me kid, I know all about it!’ He gave his words a lot of emphasis, though there didn’t seem a particular point to it. ‘Heavy news, r-‘
Mitchell interrupted by slamming something onto the table. ‘Then tell me,’ Lifting his hand revealed the gun Andrea was shot with. He had retrieved it from his pocket. ‘You must also know all about this?’

‘I, uh, I do.’ Warren stammered. ‘Yes, I heard she was shot.’ He recomposed himself. ‘Is that the gun?’
‘Oh, so that’s what it’s called. A gun.’ Mitchell took a step closer to his adversary to complement the intimidating tone he had put up. ‘Haven’t seen those down here before.’ He took great care to make every word as sharp and painful as possible. He wasn’t just making Warren attentive of his mistakes, he was punishing him for them. ‘She was shot, but that wasn’t what killed her.’ Mitchell said, slowly walking in closer. ‘She bled to death. Slowly.’ He had trouble keeping up his tough act, but saw Warren was breaking a slight sweat as well. As soon as he was in range, he grabbed Warren by his vest and pulled him closer. ‘What business did your little mercenary guy have carrying around a fucking murder device for?’ He shook him a little. ‘Eh?’

‘Let go!’ Warren yelled, catching Mitchell off guard. ‘You have no reason for handling me like this!’ Mitchell shoved him away. He stumbled but managed to stay standing. ‘It’s… an experimental weapon.’ he said, readjusting his clothes. ‘I had them carry it for protection, you know how the creatures here are.’
‘She bled to death!’ Mitchell yelled. ‘Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’ He stepped in closer again. ‘Was closing the hole more important than her? Does it feel like it’s been fucking worth it?’ He was spitting into Warren’s face as he spoke. ‘I don’t get what your deal is! You sit here all day, drinking your fucking whiskey or whatever, raking in money that just disappears while you make unbelievably stupid decisions. You practically founded this city, sure, but you’re slowly letting it rot while you pretend to be busy!’

In the time Mitchell caught his breath, Warren’s expression changed from threatened to calm and focussed. He locked eyes with Mitchell, then spoke, ‘I ain’t obliged to tell people what I do, so let’s just file it under private matters, ‘kay?’ He took a short step back to distance himself from his adversary. ‘No use in telling folks stuff too grand for them to grasp.’
‘Oh cut it with the fucking act.’ Mitchell said as he closed the gap Warren had created. ‘I think we should do the obvious thing here.’ He swung his arm around the man, and pulled him in the direction of the office’s exit. ‘Let’s settle this.’ In a single, strong swing, he flung Warren into the door, sending him crashing through it and onto the inner balcony.

Well someone’s getting their ass whooped. (next)
~ Fang


  • 30/06/2014 (11:18 PM)

    And it’s probably going to be Mitchell ultimately. Good guy always gets his ass whooped at least once. I actually never considered it odd they had guns down there. Not once did I think “Huh, wonder where that came from.” A nice and interesting little plot point right there.

    • 01/07/2014 (1:00 AM)

      Heh, thanks. It’s cool when people notice the little details, but way more fun to suddenly surprise them with it!

Post a comment

Your email will stay hidden, required field are marked with a *.

Experimental anti-spam. You only have to do this once. (Hint: it's "Fang")