The Stash (Vicious)

Quest:

He had only been in the town for two days and he had learnt nothing. He was irritated with the people and their buildings. He was sorely pressed not to burn the whole thing to the ground or invite raiders to attack, he highly doubted the majority of these people would fight.

Yellow. It was a small thing really but a color like that seemed asking for trouble, cautiously he inched forward, it was also one of the only stores that looked abandoned. But, obviously, that was not the case today. Today three men sat at the table, hunched over with their heads bent together for added secrecy, though they need practice whispering if they truly wished to stay unheard.

“We can’t get back to it!”

“And whose fault is that?!”

“You’re the reason those—those things found it!”

“Shut the hell up.” It was a low hiss accompanied by a sound punch from the youngest of the three, the elder’s head snapping to the side. The two continued to bicker while the third kept a look-out, his eyes sweeping over the crack where Malik peered and yet, he did not see him. It was times like this Malik appreciated his burns, they hid him in the shadow like any other boogey man. Waiting until the other hunched over once more he slid the door open, each man jumped scrambling for their weapons but the tall dark man only held his hands out in peace.

“Malik has no desire to fight, only to help.”

No one spoke, their hands frozen over their weapons. Guns, he noted warily and made sure not to make any sudden moves. Finally they all looked at each other and nodded.

“You will get our gold for us and in return…we won’t shoot you? Sound good?” During his little speak the leader of the three had gotten ridiculously close to Malik, so close he could, in fact, smell his horrid breath and decaying teeth. But it was as he expected, most heard him speak and thought him slow but he was not slow or touched he simply wished them to hold the name of their life-taker on their lips.

“Malik will agree. But where do you hide it?”

“Good.” The man was pleased with himself, the giant was agreeing to throw himself to death all they would have to do was follow the carnage and they would get the money. His breath breezed in the taller man’s face and Malik itched to wrap his hands around the smaller neck and feel it crack but he had to wait. Only a few more minutes now.

“Bring the map here, Kirk.”

“I don’t tr—“

“Now!”

Obviously annoyed, Kirk, practically shoved the map into the others chest, receiving a sharp kick to his stomach for his anger. "Don’t push me!”

“Malik will see the map now.” Without waiting he ripped the map from the other’s hands and casually ran his eyes over the map. It wasn’t too far from where he had originally woken. He could almost make it out with his mind’s eye, the cove where the money hid. But he wasn’t going to do this for the money—no, he was only needed to relive stress at not being any closer to his goal.

It happened quickly after that, all in steps he had clearly planned from the beginning. After tucking the map into his belt his arms shot out and snapped their ‘leaders’ neck. Holding the body in front of him like a shield he ducked his head and raced forward, knocking one of the shooters on his ass. The moment they fell he was pulling out his small sword, slashing the young boy’s neck with practiced ease. A bullet barely grazed his skin but he paid it no head instead once more ducking low he faked ramming the last one getting his desired reaction of the man shoot low and sprung up with a quickness that belied his size. Gripping the rafters tightly he used all his body weight to pitch himself forward and plant his bare feet firmly in the other’s chest.

He felt the crunch as they landed and knew if the man wasn’t dead yet he soon would be. His bones stuck out at odd angles and a bit of blood trickled out of his nose and lips, his gurgling breaths filling the now silent building.

Casually he walked around to each of the dead men’s guns and took their sparse ammo. Seven bullets between them. Lucky number seven. His lips twitched slightly and he slid the bullets into the pouch with his meat.

Glancing around he was pleased that no one even bothered to check what the shots were about or even looked mildly worried. Good. Now he only needed another shie—er, another helper with the task. He’s eyes roamed appraisingly over each man standing in the street.

One was too heavy.

One to lanky.

The other look clueless. He frowned, was everyone in the town truly so fragile?

Ah, but there he was. Walking calmly down the street, his metal hand catching each ray of sun; he would be perfect, Malik was sure of it. The mechanical hand only proved he had fought a battle before. Picking up his pace he worked to match the easy gait of the shorter man, carefully to keep a wary distance but close enough to converse without being heard.

“This Malik has a proposition for you.” His eyes flicked down toward the man to gauge his reaction. If he fought so be it. If he did not, they both had things to gain.