Briggs knew there was something wrong when he couldn’t bind that fuckers name. It wasn’t like the other times. Giving a fake name is one way to sidestep the agreement but enough testings have shown me that running around with a nickname or a name you identify with shoulda been enough.
Did the sick fuck know his name by then? Does he just allow people to call him Foreigner and not identify but let that slide off his back? Who the fuck could say.
“He does this in my house!” Briggs grumbled underneath his breath, barely able to contain the anger he held for the assailant that had broken into his establishment after hours. Sure, he pushed it a little in trying to secure another Distortion under his belt, especially a girl as powerful and delicious as that, but how could he not have? It was her fault for being so defiant, so worthwhile, so tantalizing. He’d fucked other people over before and had hoped that this would be no different but he should have listened to his gut tell him it was a bad move.
If he had listened, he wouldn’t have been scrambling around in the dark building up sweat and feeling like prey for the first time in years.
He had to have gotten the read wrong in their initial meeting then. Looked like an honest enough hobo trying to save some kid and even help me find that bitch that had clients question the security of the establishment, but there was a pull to squeeze out every drop from them.
Seeing the little girl fight would help in gauging the merchandise, a trial before enticing her to stick around, but what a blow out show it became. Nothing like what he had expected or could push out on his own. Nothing like his Terms and Conditions.
His train of thought was broken in the darkness by the sound of heavy steps on the stairway. The fucker was making their way to the training room where Briggs was hiding, taking a measured approach to terrorize him by scraping their weapon with the wall on the descent.
“I know you’re in here…” The cold voice groaned, a chill passing over Briggs with each syllable spoken. “You delay your… judgement.”
Judgement passed? On him? It was all Briggs could do to stifle a laugh at the audacity of the statement. He had come from nothing and had taken what he wanted for years. It was their fault for being swindled by him, for not having his cunning and intellect to take advantage of a good deal. To be forced to scurry around in the dark was all he could bear, paths for success or escape dwindling with each footfall made towards him.
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Reaching into the dark, Briggs grabbed hold of a loose weight and flung it on a weapons rack in the other corner of the room, distracting the assailant if only for a second for him to scuttle towards cover near the stairway.
“This won’t be the end of me, you sick fuck. I’m gonna find you and that other bitch that made a fool of me and make you all pay for it.” Briggs grumbled under his breath, peeking around the corner before attempting to sprint up the stairs. He leapt as well as his oversized legs could allow, using his arms to crawl up the steps towards the hazy red light of the main room.
Shink. The wall to his side rippled and peeled to reveal a black and white checkered pattern. The exit became blocked by a thick slab of cold speckled marble.
His eyes grew wide with panic. He turned around to see a figure standing in the shadow of the dim stairway light, arms crossed at the stairway side Briggs had just run up from.
“You are a worm.” The assailant took a step forward, the shifting stone underneath his tattered coat becoming more agitated and active with movement. “To think he struggled with someone like you is bittersweet to me.” Another step was taken. Brigg’s eyes became transfixed with the assailants bloodied cudgel, drops of blood dropping on the stairway, stone crawling up from their arm to the weapon.
“Please! I’ll give you whatever I have! Just let me go! You’ve made your point, you can kill me at any time, just be the bigger man and let me go!” Briggs pleaded for his life, tears streaming down his gristle filled face. Just take the bait and leave me alone you freak of nature. I’ll lick my wounds and show you what judgement means.
The assailant chuckled, the voice muffled and metallic. “Did you show mercy with your victims up above?” The question hung in the air, Briggs stammering to come up with a sensible excuse, his ability to sympathize with the plights of those beneath him carved away over years of cruelty. “I didn’t think so.”
Briggs raised his arms up to deliver another platitude but felt his throat catch on something. He looked down and saw a rivulet of blood beginning to trail down from his neck across his torso, a jutted stone spike impaling his neck in the blink of an eye.
“It is time you stand trial before the gates.” He could hear the sounds of doors opening behind him, flecks of snow and icy chill covering his back. “We find you guilty… of transgressions made to Threaded Heart. The scene above compounds on the severity of your crimes.” The cudgel was artificially elongated with the speckled marbling dripping from the assailants arm. “We judge that you shall feed our minds. Good luck down there…”
Briggs couldn’t look away at the shining edge of the blade looming above his head like a damocles. The rage that had fueled him up until this point sputtered away.
There was so much more he wanted.