Chaos Lives in Everything - 9. Chapter 9

Skold only pretended to listen to Sinclaire prattle on about what an honor it was to meet Skold. Barely leaving Sinclaire’s eyes, Skold scanned the room for signs of danger. With one glance he had memorized the security details that Rebecca had shown him. He knew that there were several guards waiting in the next room, listening to their every word and watching them through a one way mirror in the room.

Sly indeed, Skold thought. Sly as a fox.

Which was what Dom had told Rebecca? Dom, the elf from the alleyway. This was the second time that Skold had seen him in three days. What was he after? What else did he know about what had happened with the troll attack? I will be waiting out for you in the parking lot, Dom had said.

I’ll make him tell me, Skold thought. And if Dom didn’t tell him willingly then Skold would make him to. Skold was just as good at interrogations as he was at killing and maiming. The idea of subduing suck a big brute excited him.

“So, Skold, what can I do for you?”

“I need information.”

“Information?”

“Yes. Vanessa Holland, do you know her?”

“We are aquaintances. She called and said that you were coming over.”

“She says that you have connections, resources.”

Sinclaire grinned. “Very true. As I’m sure you know, my industry brings in quite the cash flow-not just in Roc City but all over the world. I split my time with all of my hotels, ensuring that everything runs smoothly.”

“So, I take it that you travel a lot then?”

“I do spend quite a bit of time on my private.” Sinclaire put a hand on Sonja’s thigh, the very tip of his index finger disappearing underneath her skirt. He looked at Rebecca as he spoke, his eyes glinting. “Luckily I always bring a companion or two to keep me company.”

“Very interesting.” Skold did not sound like he found it the least bit interesting. “I will get straight to the point. I have been hired to investigate the troll attack that happened in the city the evening before last. As you can imagine the incident has everyone quite shook up. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve heard about it on the news, a very interesting story, but I have been so busy with business.” To human eyes it would seem that Sinclaire was telling the truth. His face gave nothing away. But Skold did not miss the little nerve that twitched within Skold’s face.

Sinclaire was lying.

“But I do know of someone that might be able to help.” Sinclaire clicked his fingers. Immediately one of his musclebound henchmen bustled over, stooping to hear Sinclaire’s request.

“Bring me the cupid and a heart as well,” said Sinclaire.

“Yes sir,” said the bouncer.

Skold arched an eyebrow. “You have a cupid in your employee?”

“Cupids are useful. They can be used as assassins, spies. Their lethally toxic saliva makes the perfect weapon. And the only payment they require is a heart every once and a while, any heart will do. All I have to do is get hearts from the butcher. Cow heart, pig heart, it doesn’t matter. Of course what they really like is a human’s heart, a delicacy they can’t resist. And once you bait them into giving you information they can’t lie. Galix, tell us what you know about the troll attack.”

The cupid glanced at Skold and then at Sinclaire. There was reluctance in his eyes, fear. It was obvious that he did not want to answer. But since he had been given a human heart he was bound to answer. He had no choice. Galix opened his mouth to speak but before he could his head exploded in a shower of black gore, his body limp before it hit the floor. Sonja screamed, jumping to her feet. Sinclaire was standing as well, holding a Glock in his hand. Smoke curled from the muzzle.

The room became very still and silent. Rebecca stared at the cupid’s headless corpse, shocked at how quickly things had changed. Draxis was a dangerous man, a very dangerous man indeed.

“Sorry about that,” said Sinclaire. “But I had to do it. I couldn’t risk him giving away the name of my employer.”

“So this was a set up,” Skold said.

“Quite right. He doesn’t like those who meddle in his affairs.”

“I see,” Skold said. “I assume that your assignment is to make sure that I don’t leave this room?”

“Correct again.” Sinclaire pointed the Glock at Skold’s head.

“Did he offer you a fair price, your employer?”

“Yes, better than the highest amount of money or gold. He’s going to build a new world you see, the world that Paladin tried to build. But he failed. You know all about that of course, after all it was you who cut off his head. My employer will give me sanctuary, power. I will be one of the last humans standing when the ash settles.”

The doors to the suite burst open and two dozen bouncers rushed in, toting machine guns. They formed a circle around the room, aiming their rifles at Skold and Rebecca.

“I think we’ll execute the girl first,” said Sinclaire.

Rebecca looked at Skold just as two sets of massive hands grabbed both of her arms and dragged her kicking and screaming off the sofa. “Skold, help me!”

But Skold made no move to go to her aide. He glanced at her coldly, his face and body as still as an ice sculpture. Rebecca kicked and struggled but could not free herself from the two bouncers. I’m going to die tonight, she thought. The terror she felt was so strong that it was suffocating. I’m going to die in this room and he’s not going to do anything about it. He doesn’t care.

The bouncers dragged her over to Sinclaire and restrained her. He pressed the muzzle of the Glock to her forehead. Rebecca looked at Skold, looked into his eyes. In that moment she despised him, despised him more than her parents who had done nothing but showed her contempt since the day that she was born; she despised him more than the four men that had tried to rape her. If I could, if I had the power I would kill you, she thought. I’d rip your heart out with my bare hands.

“Do you have any last words that you want to say to her?” Sinclaire said.

“Not to her, to you,” said Skold. “It’s you that should be saying your last words because I’m going to kill every last one of you.”

“Forget the girl!” Sinclaire screamed. “Shoot the elf!”

By the time Sinclaire’s bouncers aimed at the sofa where Skold was sitting and opened fire they were shooting at empty air. Skold had flipped off the couch, moving so fast that he was nothing more than a blur. Rebecca tried to keep track of him with her eyes but couldn’t. She was deafened by the rattle of gun fire and sunk to her knees, clamping her ears over her head. It was useless. Nothing could quiet the commotion that was going on around her.

Skold did not have his weapons but that was okay; he didn’t need them. He moved without thinking, his hands snapping the necks of two of Sinclaire’s bodyguards. He caught their machine guns before they hit the floor and continued his killing spree.

Bullets whizzed uselessly by him as he dodged, spun, and flipped. It seemed that with the speed at which he moved that the rules of gravity did not apply to him. Sinclaire’s bodyguards fired at him with their guns, trying to retreat only to drop to the floor dead like Dominoes. Humans were so easy to kill, it was like crushing an insect with the heel of your boot.

Skold had killed half of Sinclaire’s men in less than ten seconds when the guns clicked dry. That was okay, too, he could still used them as clubs. He swung them, smashing skulls and caving in lungs. Though these men were taller and more muscular than he was their bones shattered like glass. The sounds that came from their mouths when he hit them was like music to his ears: breaths caught in their throats, gasps and screams. Again there was that rush of joy as he carried out the thing that he did best, the thing that he had been created to do.

He stood in the center of the room, surrounded by bodies. He turned to face Sinclaire who once again had a hold of Rebecca; and again he had his Glock to her head. Somewhere Skold thought he could hear an alarm going off in the building but he cared too little to pay much attention.

"Don't make another move, not another fucking move," Sinclaire snarled; clearly all of the pleasantries and useless chatter was gone. Sinclaire was getting down to the real matter at hand. "I'll blow her brains out of her skull."

"What makes you think I give a shit about her?" said Skold. His eyes were glowing. If Rebecca was Sinclaire she would have been scared shittless. Who was she kidding, she was scared shittless. After all she had a fucking Glock pressed to her head. Within less than a second Sinclaire would pull the trigger and her body would drop to the floor to join the others.

"Please," Rebecca begged. She wasn't crying anymore, but her eyes like her voice was pleading, pleading Skold to do something. "I don't really want to die. I want to die. Don't let him kill me, I'm begging you."

Again Skold felt a flash of emotion that took him completely by surprise. Normally in situations such as this he had never blinked an eye at the loss of casualites, at the spilling of innocent blood. But now he felt a cold, dangerous rage at Sinclaire and a certain protectiveness over Rebecca. He did not want her to die. He would not let her die.

Rebecca watched the emotion pass over his face. This time it did not disappear in the blink of an eye as if it had never been there at all. This time she was seeing it plain as day and it shocked her just as much as it shocked Skold. He actually feels emotion, she thought. He's not as souless as he wants to appear. But then she had always known that, hadn't she? But then she had always known that, hadn't she? Yes she'd had her doubys, but deep down inside she'd known.

"Fuere," Skold said. "Fuere. Bnur tehose woh tnhaeten tyh lefi adn teh bdloo fo teh itnneto. Bnur tmhe wtih teh fuere fo trhie niss." (Translation: "Fire. Fire burn those who threaten thy life and the lives of the innocent. Burn him with the fire of his sins.")

Suddenly Sinclaire's hand burst into flames. He screamed in agony, dancing around, slapping at the flames with the other hand to no avail; the fire spread within seconds, until it engulfed his entire body. The flaming body that was Sinclaire fled from the wound, waving its arms helplessly and screaming in endless agony. It fled down the hallway, towards the elevator.

Without fully realizing what she intended to do, Rebecca scooped Sinclaire's gun off the floor. She chased him into the hallway and raised the gun so that it pointed at his head. She took a second to brush her matted hair out of her face; somehow, in the course of events, her pigtails had come free. Up until now she had never before touched a gun in her life, not even when she was living on the streets; up until now she had always had a certain phobia towards weapons of mass destruction, weapons that could give one the power to kill in cold blood. But now her hands were steady, full of the intent to kill.

She pulled the trigger three times, the Glock kicking in her hands with a surprising force. Yet somehow, against her expectations, all three bullets hit their target. Sinclaire's body fell to its knees and then to the floor, suddenly very, very still. She suddenly became aware of everything at once: The cold water that was falling from the sprinklers, the way every muscle in her body was tight with the shock of what she had just done; she wouldn't truly process the fact that she had just killed a man until later that night. She numbly turned from the sight of the sin she'd just comitted and handed the Glock to Skold. She stood, rooted to the spot like a frozen snow angel, and watched Skold turn and walk back into what was left of Sinclaire's suite. She could see Sonja's high heels poking out from underneath the coffee table. I forgot all about her, Rebecca thought stupidly. She's still alive.

But not for long. Rebecca knew what Skold was going to do. She walked in the opposite direction, towards the door that led to the stairway, and ignored the sounds of Sonja's shrill screams and the final blast from the Glock, and then the definite, eerie silence afterwards.''

She opened the door and almost ran face first into a broad chested figure. For a second she thought that it was one of Sinclaire's bodyguards, but it was in fact Dom, the gigantic elf that they'd bumped into just minutes ago.

"We have to go," he boomed. "The authorities are on their way and they'll be coming down on our heads before we know it."