Overtop a rubbish speckled pavement, the silver car veers through a night field, towards a gas station. Underneath a pelt of hail, below the overhang of that service station, the car skids to a halt. Neon lights radiate beside it like a frigid mist.
His head propped in his hands, Flynt glances across the dashboard. Avery lies her head against the frosty passenger window, while blood trickles down her side. Deagon opens the driver-side door and hobbles around the front of the car, and he sighs a crisp blotch of fog as he strolls inside. Her nose wrinkled, Avery leans over the steering wheel, pulls out the keys, and tosses them behind her toward Flynt. With half-lidded eyes, Flynt snatches the keys out of the air and stuffs them into his sweatshirt pocket. Flynt and Avery scuttle out onto the concrete.
“What the fuck is Deagon’s deal?”
Flynt shrugs.
“You think he’s just broken or some shit?”
Flynt nods. He draws his pistol and motions through the open door for Jack to follow, and the three amble inside. Flynt, Avery, and Jack pace through the gas station. The lights above them flicker as their boots click against the cracked tiled floor. From behind the messy counter, a woman watches them with absent eyes.
“Um. Do you need help with anything?!”
Flynt shakes his head.
“Oh, alright.”
She stares at Jack for a minute before heading toward the back room.
“Wait… I have a question.”
The woman swivels around to face Avery.
“Some big guy came through here a second ago... Where’d he go?”
“Elevator.”
The attendant points toward the end of the store before turning around once more. Avery paces into the back of the building. Flynt follows suit, pulling Jack behind him.
“So… Why are you important?”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“In what way do you mean?”
“Uh… Why do people want to kidnap you so bad?”
She presses a button just beside the elevator door. The doors open, and the group steps inside, wherein there are no buttons. The elevator doors close, and the group descends.
“It could be several things. I would venture to guess that your employer would like to use my soul.”
“Oh… You’re a fucking hippie.”
Flynt shakes his head.
“Believe whatever you want, but you are the one who brushed off a mortal axe-wound tonight.”
For a moment, the lights flicker, and the elevator sways.
“Yeah… That was weird.”
The elevator grinds to a halt, and the doors pull themselves apart, revealing a small concrete room, cast in sheer darkness, illuminated by a weak incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling. Scattered throughout the room are stained cardboard boxes. Against the back wall is a pair of large, curved metal doors.
“I still hear you… What were you saying about souls and shit?”
Jack shrugs.
“Okay… Cool.”
Avery steps toward the back of the room and tugs on the enormous metal doors. They do not budge. Flynt strides into the corner of the room, where a broken-down forklift sits. He crouches down into the seat and starts turning the wheel, remaining expressionless. Jack sighs. The silence dies, as a muffled ding sounds out from the nearby elevator. Avery slips her hands into her pockets while the elevator doors squeak open. The woman from behind the counter paces out, now wearing a leather beak. Printed overtop her coat, near her chest pocket, is an H-shaped sigil.
“Jack! Give us Jack!”
Jack stares at the sigil.
“Father?”
The beaked woman treads further into the room.
“What?! I’m not your fucking dad! Get over here!”
Flynt steps out into the center of the room, standing between Jack and the woman. He takes a few steps backward, pulling Jack with him, pressing his back against the large metal doors. Avery tears her hands into the open air, adorned with brass knuckles. The woman swipes a switchblade out of her pocket, while Avery tackles her to the ground with a hollow crunch. The attendant snatches out a pistol, aiming it toward Avery. She squeezes the trigger just as Avery undercuts her arm, pressing down against her wrist, dislodging the firearm from her hand. On the ground, Avery kneels over the woman’s ribs, striking her. The attendant throws her arms before her as blood gushes down her face. Avery bludgeons her again and again. Eventually, the attendant’s arms fall flat onto the ground, her eyes fall blank, and her head flops to its side, her beak brushing against the concrete.