by N M Thorn
Once in a while, Mr. Kogan requested his services as a bodyguard. Gunz didn’t mind as it allowed him to leave the property. His mood was growing worse with every day he had to spend in captivity, and these brief interludes were a welcome change. But every day, he counted the minutes until Mr. Kogan would finally set up a fight with the California house.
Almost a full month past when finally, his patience was rewarded. After the last fight, Mr. Kogan walked into his room and announced that Gunz’s reputation had reached the ears of the Head of the California House and he agreed to stage a fight between Gunz and one of his fighters. As good as it sounded, it wasn’t what Gunz wanted to hear.
“One of his fighters?” he asked without hiding his disappointment. “There is only one fighter I care to fight in the California House.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” replied Mr. Kogan patiently. “To have the honor of fighting his best captive fighter, the Head of House wants to see you in action, fighting against lesser opponents. That’s a pretty standard approach.”
“Fine,” agreed Gunz, shaking his head. “I waited longer. I can wait for a few more events.”
“Attaboy!” Mr. Kogan chuckled his uncomfortable chuckle. “Anyway, a week from today, the representative of the California House will be coming here to discuss the arrangements for the event. I’m sure he would want to see you.”
“That’s fine—”
“I just want to remind you that for the duration of his stay, you will be locked down in the underground facility like the rest of my captive fighters,” warned Mr. Kogan. “It shouldn’t be longer than a couple of days.”
“Doesn’t look like I have a choice on this matter. Do I?” muttered Gunz.
“No, you don’t,” answered Mr. Kogan frostily. “For these two days, you’ll be treated just like a real captive fighter. It means that if the House representative would want to use the controller on you, I will allow him that.”
Gunz tensed at the mention of the controller, his hand slowly rising to his neck. “I hope it won’t come to that.”
Exactly one week after that conversation, the representative of the California House arrived. Even though he was staying in a hotel, Mr. Kogan decided it would be safer if Gunz remained in the underground lockdown for the full duration of his visit to Florida. One more time he reminded Gunz that it was done to keep up proper appearances. After all, it was also Mr. Kogan’s business and reputation on the line and he didn’t want to risk anything.
Gunz was sitting on the hard bed in his room in the underground facility when he heard the click of the lock. The door opened and Mr. Kogan walked in, accompanied by a tall Korean man in a business suit. The man was holding a phone in his hands, but he wasn’t looking at the screen. There was something unsettling about him. Possibly it was his flat face, void of any human emotions or the venomous look in his glacial, angled eyes.
“Mr. Park,” said Mr. Kogan, giving Gunz a pointed stare, “this is the fighter I was talking about.”
Gunz realized why Mr. Kogan was throwing killer-looks at him and lowered down to both knees, bowing his head obediently. “Master,” he said without raising his eyes.
Mr. Park peered down at Gunz, his lips curving in distaste. “He doesn’t impress me,” he said to Mr. Kogan and turned back to Gunz. “Stand up!”
Gunz got up and stood with his head bowed down, tensed to the limit. Mr. Park approached him, staring down from the top of his height and shook his head. “Take your shirt off,” he ordered after a moment.
“Do it,” Mr. Kogan confirmed the order.
Slowly, Gunz pulled his shirt off and threw it on the bed, feeling numb all over. Even though he wasn’t completely naked, he felt exposed and vulnerable. Mr. Park approached him and checked his biceps and chest muscles. Then without any warning, he pulled his arm back and punched Gunz in his stomach. Only the heightened Salamander senses allowed Gunz to catch the movement fast enough and withstand the punch.
“Well, Mr. Kogan, your fighter is too small, but he’s well-built for his height and he has decent reaction,” said Mr. Park, wiping his hand with a handkerchief. “Having said that, I don’t want to reject him right away just because of his height. I believe tonight there is one of those tiny captive events?”
“Yes, Mr. Park,” replied Mr. Kogan eagerly.
“I would like to see him in action,” said Mr. Park, his angled, narrow eyes traveling up and down Gunz’s body. “I hope he is fighting in this event?”
“Yes, Mr. Park. He is in the last fight of the night,” replied Mr. Kogan, sugary. “Would you like to meet for dinner in my mansion after the event is over? We could discuss the arrangements over a nice glass of Bordeaux…”
“Fine, I’ll see you after the fight,” replied Mr. Park and walked out the door.
In all the months of him fighting in the underground supernatural fighting pits, Gunz had never been as nervous as he was this night. He wasn’t worried about losing the fight. He was worried he wouldn’t get a strong enough opponent to show off his fighting skills.
Mr. Kogan probably had exactly the same concerns, because he rearranged the fighting itinerary slightly, paring him with two opponents – a massive demon and an older vampire, which would give Gunz the opportunity to show off his skills. It took him only two rounds to knock both fighters out. He stood in the cage, waiting for a sign from Mr. Kogan. Instead, Mr. Park got up and approached the cage. He waved his hand, gesturing at Gunz to approach the net.
“I want you to kill them by ripping their heads off. With your bare hands, that is,” he ordered frostily and flipped his fist thumb down, commanding him to proceed. There was nothing but emptiness in his cold voice and his snake-eyes were as expressionless as his voice. “You manage to do it, little wizard, and I’ll report to the Head of House that you’re worth his time.”
“Yes, my lord,” replied Gunz, “as you wish.”
Gunz approached the fallen demon and seized his head, planting his knee on the demon’s back. He channeled a tiny amount of his magic toward his hands and ripped the demon’s head off in one move. The dark shadow of demonic essence separated from the beheaded body and disappeared into the floor. Gunz got up and slowly headed to the vampire. He repeated the same procedure with him, watching the body disintegrate into a pile of ashes.
As soon as he was done, the guests of the event clapped, talking softly and discussing everything they had witnessed over a glass of red wine. The bouncers unlocked the cage and escorted him into a small cell where the fighters were supposed to wait for their owners to collect them. Since it was the last fight of the night, he was locked in the room alone.
He expected Mr. Kogan to come in and give him instructions on what to do next. Instead, Stephan walked into the room and asked Gunz to follow him. He drove Gunz to the mansion and escorted him to the underground facility where he locked him in the same room. The only thing he said was that Mr. Kogan will be busy entertaining his guest and he’ll be with Gunz as soon as he can.
With nothing to do and his nerves stretched to the limit, Gunz paced the small space he was locked in. The longer he waited, the more he was positive something wasn’t right. His intuition raised one red flag after another in his mind, but there was nothing he could do. There was no clock in the room, and he had no idea how much time he spent bouncing from wall to wall. Finally exhausted by all the events of the day and by constant worry, he lay down on the bed.
Gunz hadn’t noticed when he had dozed off and the loud clink of the lock woke him up with a start. He jumped to his feet, expecting to see Mr. Kogan, but to his horror, it was Mrs. Kogan standing in the doorway. She was dressed in a beautiful long robe, which looked like an expensive dress and had a small leather purse thrown over her shoulder.
With the soft movements of a predator, Clarissa sashayed inside the room accompanied by four guards and gestured for them to close the door. Then she walked to Gunz and halted in front of him, a crooked, arrogant smirk on her face.
“Hello, lover,” she purred, her eyes darkened by lust, “finally, we meet again.”
“Mrs. Kogan,” croaked Gunz and cleared his throat. “What can I do for you? Your husband should be here any minute.”
“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about my husband. He knows I’m here and he had no objections.” She cackled, patting him on his cheek. “As far as what you can do for me… Well, I think by now it should be quite clear, don’t you think?”
“Mrs. Kogan—”
“Mistress.”
Gunz choked and fell silent, unable to say the word. She arched her eyebrows at him with an amused smile. “So, what is it going to be, lover?”
“I can’t,” Gunz cut sharply, his hands clenched into fists. “I can’t and I won’t. You can’t force me to do something like this—”
She interrupted him with her laughter, opened her purse, and pulled out a controller. As she showed the device to him, she cocked her head, placing her finger on the right-most button. “You were saying? And by the way, my husband changed the settings on your controller. You try to step outside this room… Well, you know what will happen then. So, if you are thinking about attacking me and taking this controller away, think again.”
Gunz held his breath, his heart pounding somewhere in this throat. “Clarissa, please, don’t do it… I can’t do what you want, and it has nothing do with your attractiveness. You’re a beautiful woman, but I’m still — I can’t. Please, have mercy… mistress.”
“Oh? Did you just give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech?” She cackled coldly. With her finger on the very right button of the controller, Clarissa turned to her guards. “Hold him, boys. I think he needs a little lesson.”
Holding his hands up, Gunz backed away from the guards until his back hit the wall. Then he slid down to the floor, cowering in the corner between the wall and the bed. Feeling like a cornered animal, he wrapped his arms around his body and stilled. The guards stood by his side, staring down at him but didn’t touch him.
She approached him and squatted down, holding the controller in her hand so he could see it. “You see, Gunz, I can do anything I want with you now. I can even take your life if I want to,” she whispered. “But don’t worry, lover, I’m not going to do it. Killing you would be a mercy compared to what’s coming. And I don’t feel merciful today.”
She caressed his face, gently wiping the perspiration off his forehead with her fingers. Then she seized his chin and kissed him hard, biting his lip to blood. He grunted and flinched, but there was no space for him to pull away.
Clarissa got up, shaking her head. “Too bad. We could’ve had so much fun.”
She pivoted on her high heels and headed toward the door, followed by her guards. As she opened the door, Gunz saw Mr. Kogan waiting for her outside. He extended his skeletal hand to his wife, greeting her with a warm smile.
“He’s all yours, darling,” said Clarissa, planting a tender kiss on her husband’s sunken cheek, giving him back the controller.
Leaving all the guards outside the door, Mr. Kogan walked inside, followed by the representative of the California House. For a moment, they both stared down at Gunz silently. Then Mr. Kogan reached into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled a folded document out.
“So, Mr. Park, do we have an agreement?” he asked, offering him the document and a pen.
Mr. Park took the document, quickly reviewed it and signed it. “The Head of the California House authorized me to complete the transaction,” said the house representative, handing the document back to Mr. Kogan. “I’m taking him now. In exchange, you will receive what we agreed upon within one month from today.”
Mr. Kogan put the document back into his pocket and gave the controller to Mr. Park. Then he lowered down to one knee in front of Gunz. “Sorry, it had to be this way, Gunz. I truly enjoyed your company, but it was never meant to last this long.”
“Mr. Kogan, what did you do?” whispered Gunz, the horror of his situation pressing down on him. “Why?”
“I would highly recommend complying with all of Mr. Park’s requests. It’ll be a lot easier if you went with him willingly,” said Mr. Kogan ignoring Gunz’s questions. “He can hurt you and not only with that controller. The only reason I’m having this conversation with you right now is because I promised you were not going to be hurt while you were in my house. So, don’t make me break my promise. Trust me, you have no choice but to go with him. It was nice knowing you.”
He stepped back and Mr. Park took his place. “Get up,” he ordered coldly.
Gunz got up, the world spinning around him, his head buzzing with uncontrollable panicked thoughts. He couldn’t fight. If he made just one move, the Korean would use the controller, blocking his magic and crippling him. He was surrounded by guards and just like Mr. Kogan said – he had no choice.
“Turn around, hands behind your back,” ordered Mr. Park.
Gunz slowly turned around and crossed his arms behind his back. He felt the cold touch of handcuffs on his wrists. One of the guards grabbed his head, tilting it to the side, and he felt a sharp twinge of pain as a needle penetrated the skin of his neck. Gunz gasped and jerked but was held down by the guards. His vision got blurry and his knees buckled. He didn’t feel the pain of the fall as his mind plummeted into darkness.
Gunz didn’t know how long he had been unconscious. When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying down on a cold concrete floor of a small cell. The cell was a tiny box that looked like a cage with a thick iron grid. The handcuffs were gone, but the gray stone jewelry was still in place. Feeling dizzy and weak, he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
He surveyed the cell, noticing that he was either in a dungeon or a basement and there was no one else there besides him. He reached for his magic, but it was blocked and so was his access to the elemental power. He touched the collar on his neck, realizing that his controller, set to the maximum, was blocking his magic and making him weak.
“Mishka, can you get out?” called Gunz and immediately heard the wyvern’s response in his head.
“I hate you, Gunz! No, I can’t get out. You let them put this awful collar on you and now I’m stuck here without any fire! It’s all your fault and I’m going tell Kal everything.”
Gunz closed his eyes, clenching his teeth. His last hope was gone. “I’m sorry, Mishka, I should’ve never gotten you involved. I knew I could end up in a situation like this. I’m sorry, my friend. As soon as I get a chance, I’ll set you free.”
“Damn right you will,” growled Mishka.
Gunz heard loud metallic clinks and opened his eyes. A bulky man stood in front of his cell. He wasn’t tall, no more than five-foot-ten, but his whole body was wrapped in a massive set of muscles. His muscles were bulging in places Gunz didn’t know muscles existed. He was dressed in tight leather pants and a black tank-top, which hardly covered his oversized pecs. In his hands, he was holding a heavy-duty metal baton and the controller, undoubtedly to Gunz’s collar.
The man ran his baton over the grid of the cage with loud clicks and smiled frostily, displaying a set of oversized fangs.
What the hell is he? Not a vampire for sure… A werewolf? Not likely…
“Come on out, little wizard,” ordered the man and unlocked the door. Holding the controller in his hands, he wasn’t worried about Gunz’s retaliation.
“Hey, man, can I ask you a question?” asked Gunz, a derisive twinkle in his eyes. “But please tell me the truth. Have you been working out?”
“A smartass little shit. Aren’t yah?” grumbled the man, pushing Gunz forward. “Let’s see how fast the master will knock this attitude out of you.”
“Sounds promising,” murmured Gunz. Here we go. Dungeons without dragons. Part two.
Chapter 8
~ Aidan ~
“Sijak!” shouted Aidan, commanding the beginning of the sparring match.
Two seven-year old boys charged at each other, ferociously kicki
ng the air. In their oversized chest gear and shin guards, they looked like two round balls, rolling around the dojang floor. It seemed like their right leg never got tired as they kept kicking with the same leg without care for where the kick would land and if it would land anywhere at all. In most cases, the only opponent who suffered the painful defeat was an invisible one – the air.
“Master McGrath.” Aidan felt a soft touch to his elbow and turned around. Angel bowed to him in the traditional Taekwondo bow.
“What’s going on, Instructor Angel?” asked Aidan slightly surprised. Normally, no one bothered him when he was working with kids, especially during the sparring lessons.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Master McGrath,” said Angel, sounding apologetic, “but you have a call on your personal line, and I think you will want to take it.”
Aidan frowned. With everything that had been going on in the city in the last year, he expected bad news by default, allowing himself to feel relieved when his expectation didn’t materialize.
“Please take over the lesson, Instructor Angel,” said Aidan, heading outside the dojang.
He walked into his office and picked up the phone receiver, pressing the blinking button of his personal line.
“Hello?” he asked, bracing for bad news.
“Aidan.” He heard Jim’s voice on the other end of the line and slowly lowered himself into the chair. Calls from Agent Jim Andrews were never a good sign. Come to think of it, Jim usually didn’t use a phone to call him.
“Agent Andrews,” replied Aidan. “You are calling me on the phone as opposed to summoning me?”
After a prolonged silence, Jim cleared his throat. “Well, you’re probably forgetting that I’m the only pureblood human among you magic freaks,” he said quietly. “And since Angelique is…” His voice faltered and he fell silent again. “Since Angelique is no longer with us and Gunz turned into— since he is gone too, I have no way to summon you. This is why I’m calling you, Aidan. I hope that’s not a problem.”