Two young men surveyed the house as the owner left in his nondescript black four door vehicle. He spared them a cursory glance that even behind sunglasses told them something was off. Warning tickled their spines but they remained calm and quiet as the vehicle turned the corner at the end of the block and disappeared behind idyllic homes for upper middle class families. The woman of the house had left sometime earlier, leaving the home finally vacant.
They gave it another five minutes before they walked calmly over to the now unoccupied home. Adrenaline sang a sweet song in their veins as one kept a lookout while the other went to work picking the lock. The lock was nothing like any he had ever seen before. It looked like a standard master lock but none of the usual techniques worked. The young man sweated as he tried anything and everything he knew. He was a journeyman locksmith so he knew the trade even as he turned the trade for use in his gang. The young man gave up, skills and patience exhausted, after futile attempts earned no progress. Frustrated one man turned to the lookout. “I can’t crack it. This place must be Fort Knox in disguise or some shit. Let’s just kick the door in and fuck any alarms, just grab what we can and get the fuck out.”
The other young man turned to face the one picking the lock. “I was wondering what was taking so long, we know the dude will only be gone for so long. Aight let’s do this.”
Both young men positioned themselves to kick the door when an arm calmly reached from seemingly nowhere to place a key in the lock and turn it with a crisp snap. A voice spoke as the young men froze in place. “While it was fun watching the attempt, I would rather you not scuff or mar my door with unskilled flailing.” The man with sunglasses opened the door and waltzed in, utterly unintimidated and brazenly carefree. “Since you boys tried so hard, come on in, it’s not like I called the cops. You do deserve something for your effort and sheer guts in choosing my place.”
The young men followed the man into his house. Not by any voluntary means or measure but by the undeniable force of his will working upon them. Feet disobeyed frantic minds telling them to flee, instead leading them deeper into the den of a deadly animal. Soon, after an eternity, the man gestured for them to sit on a couch in what appeared to be, quite ironically, a den. They sat stiffly upon a rather comfortable couch and wondered how they were going to die.
While their captor spoke, they noticed there was a depth to his voice that was distinct as well as a cultured smoothness that spoke of an educated mind. Not that they would have put it in those words. “Now boys look around you. I’m sure you’re wondering how and why and all those questions of dire importance. Fact is those don’t matter, you are here, and so am I, that is what matters. I am Tobias Cairn. You wouldn’t have heard of me. I am something that governments don’t typically like discussing even in foul company let alone decent company. Anyways I digress, look around please.” The one known now as Tobias waved his hand in a grand gesture indicating the walls of the den.
Look the young men did, looking first to a collection of ancient types of weapons, some modern and some clearly worn from their ancient wars, then to the collection of modern weapons from various period that they couldn’t even begin to identify except for the most modern, finally their gazes slid with a uniformity to yet another collection that didn’t seem to belong. Various items and sundries and even the odd bits of jewelry, some were very expensive pieces. One of the young men spoke, curiosity outweighing the blind fear. “What are those for? They seem out of place.” There was a clear echo to his word as his friend spoke a moment after.
Tobias smiled, and while not unfriendly, in a decidedly predatory manner and spoke softly with a look of fond memories. “Those, gentlemen, are my trophies. Collected from the various men I have killed in the course of my existence.”
The young men’s faces paled to the color of the freshly dead. There were more trophies than could be counted easily. To say they were in the presence of a hunter would be an understatement. They were in the den of an apex predator who drew no distinction in what the prey was. Their faces set with the knowledge that death had come for them in the guise of a man in his mid twenties. Grim determination settled like steel in the young men’s veins and they tensed prepared to fight for their lives.
A voice rang out from Tobias, rough and harsh with distinct overtones of sinister. “Don’t even think about going for those sorry excuses for side arms in my house. I don’t give a fuck if you want to make you colors or bones or whatever the fuck they call it these days. You children have guts but that won’t save you if you decide to die.” Tobias finally sat in a recliner and proceeded to put his feet up in a contrasting display of carelessness that fooled no one in the room. “Even if you two got lucky and managed to do the deed, you would have to survive the wrath of my wife. Which you wouldn’t survive, and would be far, far slower.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Tobias’s tone changed once more to smooth depth and took on a fond and loving note. “Nyx, dear, come out of the shadows and show our guests some hospitality which your people are known for.”
The two young men couldn’t possibly be more cowed and shocked into submission, so they thought, until a woman with midnight black hair and eyes the blue of polar ice walked out of a lightly shadowed corner like a doorway. Her figure was lithe with supple and alluring curves that the young men noticed despite the suffocating surprise and fear. She wore a soft black dress that seemed to shift and turn and writhe, even when the eye was focused on it. Like she wore shadows for clothes.
“Honey, I like them, they certainly are quick on the pick up aren’t they?” Neither of the young men noticed the fact she was carrying a tray laden with drinks. Suddenly they could smell the alcohol. A type they had never smelled. It smelled like a mix of berries and pure ethanol. Each glass was only a thumb wide and the width of a hand tall. Nyx passed out the drinks, first to Tobias and then the young men, who took them with the grating and halting motion of automatons, muttering soft thank yous. Finally after an era of time Nyx took her drink and set down the tray before unceremoniously draping herself over her husband’s lap. “Human of mine, these boys smell like they have talent, we have something of a fetish for that don’t we?” Nyx downed her glass like it was simple water. Smiling broadly now with a gleam in her eyes that bordered somewhere between outright evil and deviously delightful.
“Yes they do have talent, and yes we do have that particular quirk, honestly kitten, calling it a fetish will only give them a horrifically wrong impression. Then again that was the point wasn’t it you horrible woman. Oh boys, don’t drink it like she did, the strength of it could kill us. If you haven’t noticed by now. My wife is not human”
Tobias paused to take a small sip and the young men copied him. Fear moving to fascination and awe. “Tell you what, you boys are damn near age to join the military right?” The question that wasn’t a question elicited a nod from both the young men, for they were seventeen and close to eighteen. “Excellent, then join, I don’t give a damn what branch so long as you show you are the best in your respective field in five years, then go special ops and prove you’re the best there and you will see me again. You may send letters here if you have questions or anything really. I know my wife would enjoy them and I, personally, will look after your progress.”
The young men sat in shocked silence taking all of this in, a non human wife, join the military, be the best, then be the best in spec ops. Why? What would he get out of this? What did he see in them? One word laden with all these thoughts echoed from both of them, “Why?”
Tobias sighed and shrugged. “I see your potential, your innate talent. I want it, ready at hand and forged to a weapon I can use. You will be my spears. In trade you will learn the truths of this world that many have forgotten or become deaf to.” Tobias sipped slowly once again. “What do you say boys? Want to see how deep this particular rabbit hole goes?”
The young men stared at their drinks and took moderate sips for they hadn’t felt anything yet. It went down smooth but burned in their bellies in time with hearts pounding with excitement. They felt a thrill and pull they had never before experienced. They spared a glance for each other and then locked gazes with Tobias. One spoke for both of them. “I guess that makes you the Boss, Boss. We will do that shit. Ain’t nothin gonna stop us either.”
Tobias laughed richly, Nyx as well. The young men while perplexed smiled as well. “I am not the Boss or any variation there of. That is a title that belongs to others. I am, well, no one, but I prefer Ghost if anything.” The world swam for the two young men as their alcohol hit them like a run away train. “You boys will wake in the hospital, I will keep your pistols and in return I will give you knives. The staff will know to let you keep them on you wherever you go. They mark you as sure as any tattoo to anyone who knows. You boys are under my protection. Betray my trust and you will pay in blood.”
Nyx rose from her comfortable seat and the last thing the young men remembered was being kissed on the forehead before oblivion took them into dark unconsciousness.
“My dearest human, whatever game you play, you play dangerously. How many in your government already want you dead? If they see you building your own army it will give them all they need to run to your president calling for your blood.”
“Kitten I’m five steps ahead of that game at all times, president has known for some time that I am building a personal unit to be commanded directly by me. Twelve men will be under my authority alone. As for my naysayers they will flap their lips and squawk all they want no matter anything I did, even if I became Mormon or Buddhist. They would claim it was a nefarious act for some malignant purpose. They would be right. I’ve done exactly that in fact. A Mormon cult out in the desert needed pruning back after all.”
Tobias stood and walked over to the trophies of his kills and touched with almost a reverence a pair of silver studded earrings. The cultist leader had them in his pocket when Tobias ended his life by crushing his throat. He watched the man suffocate to death. Tobias came out of his reverie to open a concealed drawer beneath the trophies. There sat twelve knives made of brilliant crucible steel. Tobias had forged them himself. The work of his hand to be given to the weapons he would forge in the fires of battle and death.
“Sweetie, your van is in the garage, right?” Nyx nodded and Tobias removed two knives before closing the drawer once again. Then how about you take Oompa and I’ll take Loompa and we get them to the hospital before they die of alcohol poisoning.”