Coal sat in his office, sipping a single malt.

The man who wanted was back, and he was unhappy.

“Your people destroyed my facility! They took my daughter. You have to help me get her back.”

Coal took a simple slow sip. He set the glass calmly on the desk. “As far as I’m aware, it wasn’t your facility, and if what I’m told is correct, you did try to kill them no?”

“I would have paid the extra loss fee,” the fair-haired, blue-eyed man explained with frustration in his tone.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

The darker-haired Coal stood up from his chair and slowly made his way around the edge of the desk toward the man. “Mm, well the thing about the loss fee, is it’s not intended as an option you choose. If you’d told me you'd wanted powerful fodder for a necromancy ritual I could have found you someone else. This group has particular value to me.” Coal paused. He met the man’s eyes, blue on blue. Coal sighed. “And the thing is I really can’t have you set this as a new acceptable standard. You understand.” He saw confusion cloud the man’s eyes, followed quickly by fear and then horror as Coal thrust his swiftly summoned sword right through the man’s gut and twisted the blade.

He watched the light fade from the man’s eyes. Then he let the body fall to the floor. He wiped his sword clean with a nearby cloth before returning to his desk. He sighed once more. Took another sip of whiskey and then dialed a number on his phone.