by Al K. Line
"Arthur 'The Hat' Salzman. It's been a long time."
"It has," I agreed, wishing I could return the acknowledgment of name but nobody knew his. He was just The Accountant—yes, we were fond of a capital T in our world, made sure everyone knew you were the one and only.
The Accountant turned to the goon on his left and said, "Please kill this man. Now."
Gonna Get Told Off
I was never what you'd call a buff dude. I was scrawny and had muscle, even got into running up and down hills to build stamina as I often had to run away from people, or things, but I was surprisingly strong for my size. Not strong enough for what I did without thinking, though. As magic surged through my system, my body primed thanks to the amazing sleep I'd had, I shunted forces into my arms and in one fluid motion scooped Vicky up and flung her low across the floor like I was rolling a ball.
She skidded halfway across the room, aided by her pert behind, and as she squealed and yelped I turned just in time to see the goon's fist stab out hard for my face. Except it wasn't a fist, it was now the head of a goddamn rhino, blunt horn plenty capable of punching a hole right through me in a most inconvenient way, what with me needing my head to do my thinking with.
I sidestepped, but not fast enough or far enough away to stop the shoulder of the beast connecting with my body and whacking me six feet away and down to the stinking concrete.
It kept on coming.
Several tons of thick-skinned rhino charged me, tiny eyes pink and angry, snorting its disdain as it readied to trample me. Knowing I wouldn't get away in time, I slapped my hand to my pocket and felt my wand through my cargo pants. The sigils activated and strong orange light shone through the material, pulling on my will and expanding to shunt the air away under immense pressure, a hardened cocoon of magic I prayed was up to such a weight.
Only one way to find out, and here it came. I must admit I may have closed my eyes a little as the beast lowered its head and its hooves kicked up the detritus of the crowd, discarded beer cans and cigarette butts trampled in forewarning. One helluva weight hit in several spots but nothing cracked, nothing popped, and I was sure nothing oozed out, which was good as oozing is never nice.
I rolled over and got to my feet. The rhino was only now slowing, momentum making it hard for it to stop. I don't know how fast it was going but it was damn speedy, and I seemed to recall that they could get up to thirty plus miles an hour pretty quickly. But it seemed this beast had forgotten where the brakes were and I was safe for now, time enough to collect my wits and devise a cunning plan.
Then I heard a shriek, and leaning sideways to see past the rhino I saw Vicky standing right in its path. It was heading right for her and even though it was slowing it would still make lumpy mom stew of her.
"Move!" I shouted, but she was half out of it still. I don't know if it was from the way I'd thrown her out of the line of fire, or from the effects of the fight, but she was a scared little rabbit with some very big headlights coming right at her.
I was already running, and my practice paid off, my speed increasing rapidly. But it wasn't enough, and I knew it. Vicky would be pink sweater-covered dumplings in seconds.
Velcro made a satisfying schick as I opened my pocket and snatched my wand, the warm wood a comfort like it had been on so many lonely nights. The tip glowed a nauseating green as a spell activated, stored within sigils as clear as the day I carved them.
This wasn't something I used often, as I hated a mess, but if there was a time for old school blasting it was now. Crackling arcs of fiery mayhem shot from the wand, my hand vibrating like I was holding a jackhammer, and three lines of death lit up the cavernous room as green light screamed toward its mark.
Vicky's features were highlighted in the repulsive verdant glow as she moved, but she knew it was too late to avoid this mountain of flesh.
The spell hit.
Magic made contact and a boom louder than the steel doors closing echoed around the chamber, deafening me for a moment. I shielded my eyes and when I looked Vicky was standing there, covered head to toe in the remains of her attacker.
In front of her was little more than a puddle of slime, the rhino having exploded but the mass of the creature still only that of a human being, which always got somewhat confusing but that's shifters for you. A hand and part of a forearm twitched once, the fingers closing. The head of the goon rolled into the darkness away from a long line of sausage entrails and a soupy mess.
Wand still brimming with magic and keen for more violence, I turned and waved it at The Accountant, still sitting in his chair, unruffled.
"We need to talk," I said.
He pushed his glasses up off his nose, straightened the pens on his desk so they lined up nicely, which I appreciated, and replied, "Indeed."
The Accountant
Vicky screamed and shouted and generally went off on a major rant as she stood in a pile of human goop, although it seemed like most of it was coating her. I ignored her, so did The Accountant, though he did raise an eyebrow at her then me, questioning what on earth she was doing here. He had a point.
"Wait here," I warned, then turned to deal with her.
Mindful of my step, I skirted around Vicky and said, "You got dirty," but she didn't see the funny side and began to cry.
"There's a man, a rhino, his inside bits, his, ugh, all over me." She tugged at her hair, wiped her face, pushed her hands down her sweater making flesh ooze between her fingers. It was truly nightmarish and she began to shake uncontrollably, then screamed so loud I thought an eardrum may have burst. Then she cried in earnest. Not tears of sadness, but of shock and despair, of seeing the inside of a person now on the outside in itty-bitty bits.
"Take them off," I said, not knowing what else to say.
"What? Take what off?" she stammered, confused.
"Your clothes you idiot! Take them off, wipe yourself down, and come join us."
Vicky stared at me aghast but she didn't understand the danger we were still in. The very real possibility that both of us would be dead soon if she didn't get a grip. The Accountant didn't care about us, certainly not about her emotional state, and as much as I cared I couldn't show it, not here, not now. If he knew I was fuming inside about how it made Vicky feel he'd take advantage of that. I had to remain detached, like her being freaked meant nothing. It couldn't have been further from the truth but that's life.
"Arthur, stop being so mean. Can you help me?" she pleaded.
"No. I told you to wait in the car, if you remember." With that I walked away and went back to The Accountant and his remaining goon who, fair play to the bloke, hadn't moved a muscle since this all began.
"She's loud," The Accountant said, frowning a little.
"She is," I agreed.
"What do you want, Arthur? I still have Clarence here, and trust me, you do not want to see what he shifts into."
"I'm sure I don't, so I'll be quick. But that wasn't nice, no way to greet an old acquaintance."
"After the way you left I think I was well within my rights. You were warned, when you first got involved in our, ah, activities, that you didn't get to just walk away, that you belonged and you didn't turn your back on your family."
"Family! Ha, don't give me that bullshit. Save it for the new recruits, for the lost and helpless, the ones that think being a gangster will be fun and exciting. You know why I left, don't play games." It wasn't a good few months before I abandoned the north. Things happened, like they always did, and the less said about it now the better.
"As you wish. But you shouldn't have come back. Why did you?" he asked, peering at me with about as much interest as he ever showed for anything.
"I fancied watching a few fights. It's some operation you have here."
"Not my operation, the Fat Man's. I merely do what I have always done."
"Whatever you say. So, where's the main event? The proper stuff?"
"Arthur, Arthur, what has got into you? You don't get to come h
ere, into this place, and make demands, ask questions."
"There are bits in my hair," moaned Vicky as she appeared beside me in just her pants, bra, and a pair of pink socks. Her undies were pink and frilly, and even smeared in blood she looked pretty hot. I'd forgotten, or at least blocked, the image of her one night when her dressing gown fell open and her surprisingly shapely figure was revealed. Now here it was again, reminding me of things I hadn't touched, licked, sucked, or... Er, where was I?
"We won't be long," I said looking away, "Will we?" I asked The Accountant.
"I have nothing more to say." He stood, all five feet five of him, and pushed back his chair silently.
"You ain't going anywhere, buddy," I warned.
"Clarence, if you would?" The Accountant stepped aside and Clarence grunted.
"Clarence," I said calmly, "If I see even your eyebrow twitch I will make what happened to your thick-skinned buddy seem like a nice way to die. Do I make myself clear?"
Clarence's cheek pulsed and drew back a little to expose a fine set of white teeth but he remained motionless.
The Accountant rounded on him and said, "Really? You would dare defy me? Because of a wizard? This wizard?"
"He blasted Ken into lumps," said Clarence, surprisingly soft-spoken.
"And it's your job to take such risks."
"I've got kids, and a mortgage. Didn't sign on for this. Signed on to beat the crap out of anyone you said, but not risk getting torn into mush.
The Accountant sighed and said, "As you wish," and with that he sprang at poor Clarence's throat with such speed none of us had a chance to react before the goon's head tipped back and a large smile in his neck opened up. For a moment he stood there in shock, then blood pumped out and he gasped once, clutched his throat, before he fell, very much dead.
The Accountant straightened his already straight tie, adjusted his glasses, and said, "Now, where were we?"
"I'm covered in bits of rhino!" Vicky shrieked. Then things got dicey.
Been Here Before
I knew it would be bad coming here. The Hat wasn't wanted, wasn't liked. Once, I was popular and in demand, and that was the problem. I'd left, and you didn't get to leave. The violence was too raw, the magic too wild, the crime too base, everything out of control and spiraling. Although I was young, brash, and foolish I still had my head on my shoulders, and a rather sensible one it was by many standards, so in an effort to keep that head firmly planted I used it to devise a cunning plan. Meaning, I packed up one day, buggered off, and never returned.
For years I traveled, increasing my power, my knowledge, and my reputation, finally settling somewhere I liked. By then I was the number one go-to guy when it came to getting important artifacts most others couldn't trace let alone hope of stealing successfully.
But I'd forgotten quite how brutish these guys were. How cold The Accountant was, just like his boss. I glanced at Vicky and said, "Sorry, I do care, but these guys didn't need to know that." She nodded, understanding, as we'd played this game in the past. The reality of the situation, of The Accountant's utter snake-like lack of compassion or emotion, hit home, but it was too late to do anything.
I'd missed the subtle hand movements in his pocket, and as he pulled out his phone I knew we were screwed. The doors slid back with a horrendous squeal and five men armed with what looked suspiciously like meat cleavers marched with intent across too short a divide.
"Goodbye, Arthur," he said as he picked up his bags, stepped over poor Clarence's body, and nodded to the goons as he headed for the door.
"Don't think so," I said calmly, my voice loud and echoing. He stopped short, just like the goons.
He turned to look at me with genuine surprise, the most emotion I'd ever seen, and said, "My, you have learned a new trick while you were away, haven't you?"
"You bet I have." I raised my wand and an invisible jet of super-compressed air slammed the doors shut with a boom that beat all earlier booms.
Gotta be dramatic at times, although not as dramatic as Vicky, I could never pull that off.
The Accountant released his bags and they dropped with a dull thud. He removed his glasses, loosened his tie a millimeter, and said, "Chop him up slowly. Her too," then took a cleaver from a goon and the six men advanced.
The Accountant seldom got involved in the physical stuff, but when he did you were out of luck. He was legendary for his extremes of violence, his prowess with any number of weapons, including his own hands and feet, and his reputation was such that nobody ever messed with him. It made him the perfect frontman for dealing with the cash and those that would otherwise be rather prone to bashing heads if they lost their bets or in any way had an objection to how they were parted with their hard-earned.
I'd seen it a few times, long ago, but I knew he'd be just as dangerous now, if not more so.
"I love you, Arthur," said Vicky through chattering teeth.
"Love you too, munchkin," I said, and smiled at her as she hugged herself against the cold, her body turning ochre as blood dried against her pale skin.
And then I killed those bastards in ways too gross to recount.
In my head, mind you. I pictured it playing out and me triumphant, doing some awesome wizardly moves and ducking and weaving and blasting them with all I had. Making mincemeat of them until finally it was just The Accountant. I snatched his cleaver and sliced his head clean off.
But that's not what happened, just wishful thinking. What did happen was six men with worryingly sharp weapons rushed us so I ran away as fast as my thankfully well-trained legs could go, scooping Vicky up and slinging her over my shoulder as she was too out of it to make good speed.
The Accountant laughed and shouted out, "Nowhere to go, Arthur, it's just you and us. You're trapped."
"I wouldn't be a wizard if I didn't at least try to run away. It's worked before," I panted as I ran faster, soon getting to the far end of the room.
The men walked toward us, unhurried, just doing menacing things like moving their cleavers from one hand to another and practicing their sneers and their guffawing.
I dropped Vicky down gently, whispered, "Wait here," then went to kick their asses. Haha, I absolutely did not. Who knew what these dudes were. For all I knew they'd morph into a herd of elephants with The Accountant riding the lead bull and trample us.
What I did do was walk halfway across the divide, lie down on the floor, spread my arms wide and make an angel in the dust.
The men crowded around me, peering down in confusion and fascination at the nice shape I'd made.
"What are you doing?" asked a bemused Accountant.
"Making an angel."
"Oh." The Accountant watched a second longer then said, "Chop his legs off first."
The cleavers descended and Vicky screamed.
Running on Empty
Sometimes the best way to get people to do what you want is to do something distracting, like lie in the dirt and make an angel. Vicky was forgotten as the men smirked and cleavers descended.
I had them right where I wanted them.
Magic crackled from my wand as a blast of searing light arced through the darkness, frying the dust particles and the very air itself as it shot skyward, potent energy screaming with release. The air came alive as magic hit the reinforced ceiling, the meter-thick slab of reinforced concrete exploding under immense pressure and heat.
Metal melted, concrete flew apart, and thanks to gravity the destroyed ceiling rained down on our compact group with appropriately epic results. As my tightly packed spells reconfigured, I lashed out at The Accountant while he looked up in shock. His cleaver rattled away across the ground. Reversing the forces sizzling through the air from my wand to his hand, I yanked back hard and he came crashing down like we were bound, taking the wind out of me. A split-second before broken ceiling hit, I wrapped us both in a tight embrace of pressure that would protect us from the death rain. And if not, he'd get hit first. See, not just a pretty face.
>
The goons screamed as they were pulverized but I couldn't see since I had the back of The Accountant's head over my face. His slick hair smelled of oranges and slid around my face in a manner I found so disturbing I almost thrust him up and off, taking my chances. Something massive slammed into us and he groaned as a slab slid off his chest and into my line of vision, scorched concrete and blisteringly hot metal protruding from the chunk right beside my head.
The heat was incredible but I was protected, for now, but even as another hit was taken my magic began to wane. I'd given nearly all I had and it was burning through my reserves fast to maintain the shield around us both. The magic needed wasn't just doubled for two people, I had to increase the safety-net as keeping it just a few millimeters away was too risky. I knew my body inside out and could make a barrier like a second skin, doing that for him could mean I miscalculated and then he'd be crushed, and I didn't want that.
Several more small pieces fell and then the noise of concrete hitting the ground abated, just tiny shards falling like a killer hailstorm. I let the barrier recede and as it did so I grabbed a rough lump with an outstretched hand and brought it up fast and hard, smashing into the side of The Accountant. He moaned then went limp. I flipped him off me and, feeling like my legs were full of lead, I slowly and carefully stood up.
"Are you okay?" Vicky rushed to help me stand and I put an arm around her shoulders for support.
"Yeah, fine. Just dusty." I stepped away and stretched my back out, feeling like gravity had doubled and I'd sink through the ground or be squished like the bodies all around. Circling the space where the shape of the angel stood out, was a mound of bodies and concrete. Slabs large and small littered the area, burying several bodies completely. Others were merely broken and bloodied. Bones jutted from arms, heads were cracked open and brains oozed out, and one poor guy lay pinned under a section of roof that had landed vertically, the broken metal rods pierced right through his upper thigh and groin. He stared at it in shock and horror, screamed once, then lost consciousness.