Decision Point

It was so easy to feel jealous and that it wasn’t fair. The fairy tale couple in the middle of the room, the centre of each other’s lives, the centre of attention. Her own small gift overwhelmed in the rush of congratulations, her attempt at graciousness in defeat lost because no-one realised she’d been hoping to win. She’d gotten in her good wishes, done her best to school her face so no-one could accuse her of spoiling this day’s happiness with her grief for her own hopes and now it was time to leave. To slip away while no-one was paying attention, not that it seemed to her that they ever did unless they wanted something done.

She was walking across the bridge on the way home, in the dark and the rain when she stopped to admire the view. The city lights were beautiful both on their own and in reflection and the rain added a blur that made the scene fit her mood tonight. A few minutes here admiring the view wouldn’t do any harm and if there were going to be any confrontations when she got home, she’d happily put those off for another five minutes.

“I can give you what you want,” the voice in her ear was quiet, dry and male. When she looked up she saw a man in an expensive suit, overcoat and hat who was a head taller than her and improbably if not impossibly dry.

“You shouldn’t.” She was not crying, she would not cry. “What I want isn’t reasonable.”

“We do unreasonable all the time, why should you be any different?” He turned around and leaned against the railing so he could see her face.  “No-one would ever know.”

“I would know.” She lifted her chin. “There’s always a price and fine print and I’m not about to pay one or chance the other.”

“What if I told you that how you feel, what’s happening to you now is the result of someone else’s arrangement with us?”

She paused and thought before she spoke. “You are known to lie and only tell half the truth. My being alive in the first place could be the result of that arrangement and what you just said would be true.”

“What if I told you that the arrangement took from you things that were yours and gave them to another?” He sounded like a friend discussing...the weather.

“Would it be true?”

“For certain reasonably solid values of truth, yes.” He looked at her with infinitely deep eyes. “Well?”

“You’re tempting me with revenge?” She looked at the lights again.

“Of course,” he smiled, “It’s what we do.”

“Even though what I want may have nothing to do with the arrangement you are describing?”

He spread his hands in acknowledgement, “You said yourself that we deal in half truths.”

“Thank you for the offer, but no thank you.” She said it firmly and to his face.

“Why not?” The dry, quiet voice had gained a dangerous edge.

“I’m not prepared to pay your price and I don’t want to add to whatever trail of unintended consequences is roiling along in the wake of your...arrangements.” She took a deep breath. “I will recover from this on my own. I will build or move on to something else that I am not beholden to an arrangement for. If this is all about revenge, I will stop my portion of the circle here.” The tears were leaking now despite her intentions.

“As you wish.” He stood upright in one smooth movement, dipped his hat, and was gone. No smoke, no light absorbing darkness, just gone.

She continued her walk home in the rain, making sure to dry her face before she went in the front door. The lights were on and everyone was home. Her parents, the happy couple, his parents and the presents filled the lounge room. She stuck her head in the doorway to let them know she was home and to say good night.

“Where did you get to?” demanded her mother in the middle of noting gift tags and the associated presents. “We looked for you when it was time to pack up but you’d already left.”

“I needed some time on my own,” she said, trying to ignore her sister and her sister’s fiancé restraining themselves from making out in public on the lounge.  “So I decided to walk home. There were so many people there, I thought you would have had plenty of help without me.”

“That’s not the point, as I keep telling you,” her mother sighed, “And if you were walking home, why did it take so long?”

“Oh,” she smiled for what seemed like the first time in days, “I was busy resisting temptation.”

Decision Point

It was so easy to feel jealous and that it wasn’t fair. The fairy tale couple in the middle of the room, the centre of each other’s lives, the centre of attention. Her own small gift overwhelmed in the rush of congratulations, her attempt at graciousness in defeat lost because no-one realised she’d been hoping to win. She’d gotten in her good wishes, done her best to school her face so no-one could accuse her of spoiling this day’s happiness with her grief for her own hopes and now it was time to leave. To slip away while no-one was paying attention, not that it seemed to her that they ever did unless they wanted something done.

She was walking across the bridge on the way home, in the dark and the rain when she stopped to admire the view. The city lights were beautiful both on their own and in reflection and the rain added a blur that made the scene fit her mood tonight. A few minutes here admiring the view wouldn’t do any harm and if there were going to be any confrontations when she got home, she’d happily put those off for another five minutes.

“I can give you what you want,” the voice in her ear was quiet, dry and male. When she looked up she saw a man in an expensive suit, overcoat and hat who was a head taller than her and improbably if not impossibly dry.

“You shouldn’t.” She was not crying, she would not cry. “What I want isn’t reasonable.”

“We do unreasonable all the time, why should you be any different?” He turned around and leaned against the railing so he could see her face.  “No-one would ever know.”

“I would know.” She lifted her chin. “There’s always a price and fine print and I’m not about to pay one or chance the other.”

“What if I told you that how you feel, what’s happening to you now is the result of someone else’s arrangement with us?”

She paused and thought before she spoke. “You are known to lie and only tell half the truth. My being alive in the first place could be the result of that arrangement and what you just said would be true.”

“What if I told you that the arrangement took from you things that were yours and gave them to another?” He sounded like a friend discussing...the weather.

“Would it be true?”

“For certain reasonably solid values of truth, yes.” He looked at her with infinitely deep eyes. “Well?”

“You’re tempting me with revenge?” She looked at the lights again.

“Of course,” he smiled, “It’s what we do.”

“Even though what I want may have nothing to do with the arrangement you are describing?”

He spread his hands in acknowledgement, “You said yourself that we deal in half truths.”

“Thank you for the offer, but no thank you.” She said it firmly and to his face.

“Why not?” The dry, quiet voice had gained a dangerous edge.

“I’m not prepared to pay your price and I don’t want to add to whatever trail of unintended consequences is roiling along in the wake of your...arrangements.” She took a deep breath. “I will recover from this on my own. I will build or move on to something else that I am not beholden to an arrangement for. If this is all about revenge, I will stop my portion of the circle here.” The tears were leaking now despite her intentions.

“As you wish.” He stood upright in one smooth movement, dipped his hat, and was gone. No smoke, no light absorbing darkness, just gone.

She continued her walk home in the rain, making sure to dry her face before she went in the front door. The lights were on and everyone was home. Her parents, the happy couple, his parents and the presents filled the lounge room. She stuck her head in the doorway to let them know she was home and to say good night.

“Where did you get to?” demanded her mother in the middle of noting gift tags and the associated presents. “We looked for you when it was time to pack up but you’d already left.”

“I needed some time on my own,” she said, trying to ignore her sister and her sister’s fiancé restraining themselves from making out in public on the lounge.  “So I decided to walk home. There were so many people there, I thought you would have had plenty of help without me.”

“That’s not the point, as I keep telling you,” her mother sighed, “And if you were walking home, why did it take so long?”

“Oh,” she smiled for what seemed like the first time in days, “I was busy resisting temptation.”

The Deal

This was originally posted at http://unorthodoxcreativity.com/15minfic.php from the prompt
"If it bleeds, we can kill it."

One of the bastards had hurt him. The blood dripped from his arm to the ground below. Damn it, this form was supposed to be invulnerable, an uber warrior able to defeat anything. Maxos had promised...

And he had promised Maxos that he would do this one thing and in return Maxos would give him his heart’s desire. Get in, take the target and get it back to Maxos. That’s all he had to do. In a body that Maxos had promised would be able to do the job.

But now security was on his track. Since when did a museum have a freaking Level 3 circle working security for them? Since the museum started displaying something Maxos would want, said the little voice inside his head. Now one of the Level 3 mages had hurt him. Been fast enough and strong enough for a tattoo claw to reach out from the sleeved arm and nick him.

He had to keep moving, back to Maxos, hand over the item and collect his reward. He wasn’t so sure now that he wanted to keep this body Maxos had conjured for him. It was fast and it was tough but it made it impossible for him to step into the crowd and disappear, hop on a bus and get lost in traffic – no, this body was visible. Too visible.

The blood wasn’t stopping. Surely a little nick like that shouldn’t bleed so much? How much was he losing? Would he last long enough to get back to Maxos? He was beginning to feel light headed, surely he hadn’t lost so much blood so quickly, not through such a little nick?

Had to think now, which way? Over the roof, through the park and there, in the light beside the fountain was Maxos and his reward. He came to a dead stop in front of the man known as Maxos and handed him the bag that had been looped over his shoulder. “Here”, he thrust it at his employer, “That’s what you wanted. You promised me her.” He was panting and growing steadily tireder.

Maxos opened the bag and looked inside. “Very well,” he seemed satisfied, “The girl is yours.” He gestured and the girl involuntarily walked forward into the monster’s arms. “Deal done.”

Floodlights snapped on around them and an amplified voice sounded, “Police, we have you surrounded. Take no action without our direction!”

The light headed thief, holding the caffeine coloured girl of his dreams in his arms, looked around, confused. How had they found them? It was his last thought before he slumped to the ground.

In the clean up, one of the police detectives asked the security mage from the museum, “Did you have to kill him?”

“I didn’t kill him,” the big man sighed and slumped back on the park bench. “That form is tough but has a limited life span. He was dead from the moment Maxos transformed him. I just nicked him so we could track him.”

The Deal

This was originally posted at http://unorthodoxcreativity.com/15minfic.php from the prompt
"If it bleeds, we can kill it."

One of the bastards had hurt him. The blood dripped from his arm to the ground below. Damn it, this form was supposed to be invulnerable, an uber warrior able to defeat anything. Maxos had promised...

And he had promised Maxos that he would do this one thing and in return Maxos would give him his heart’s desire. Get in, take the target and get it back to Maxos. That’s all he had to do. In a body that Maxos had promised would be able to do the job.

But now security was on his track. Since when did a museum have a freaking Level 3 circle working security for them? Since the museum started displaying something Maxos would want, said the little voice inside his head. Now one of the Level 3 mages had hurt him. Been fast enough and strong enough for a tattoo claw to reach out from the sleeved arm and nick him.

He had to keep moving, back to Maxos, hand over the item and collect his reward. He wasn’t so sure now that he wanted to keep this body Maxos had conjured for him. It was fast and it was tough but it made it impossible for him to step into the crowd and disappear, hop on a bus and get lost in traffic – no, this body was visible. Too visible.

The blood wasn’t stopping. Surely a little nick like that shouldn’t bleed so much? How much was he losing? Would he last long enough to get back to Maxos? He was beginning to feel light headed, surely he hadn’t lost so much blood so quickly, not through such a little nick?

Had to think now, which way? Over the roof, through the park and there, in the light beside the fountain was Maxos and his reward. He came to a dead stop in front of the man known as Maxos and handed him the bag that had been looped over his shoulder. “Here”, he thrust it at his employer, “That’s what you wanted. You promised me her.” He was panting and growing steadily tireder.

Maxos opened the bag and looked inside. “Very well,” he seemed satisfied, “The girl is yours.” He gestured and the girl involuntarily walked forward into the monster’s arms. “Deal done.”

Floodlights snapped on around them and an amplified voice sounded, “Police, we have you surrounded. Take no action without our direction!”

The light headed thief, holding the caffeine coloured girl of his dreams in his arms, looked around, confused. How had they found them? It was his last thought before he slumped to the ground.

In the clean up, one of the police detectives asked the security mage from the museum, “Did you have to kill him?”

“I didn’t kill him,” the big man sighed and slumped back on the park bench. “That form is tough but has a limited life span. He was dead from the moment Maxos transformed him. I just nicked him so we could track him.”