The Sin Hunter: Double or Nothing

Unfortunate Fortunes

Dark. Green. A faint light in the hallway. Flickering, twisting shadows in the lobby. The hallway stretches to the room where the meeting was held. Cigars pour smoke from their ends. Ashtrays are filled. Dinner is served, and drinks are downed. Silverware clinks and clatters against plates and drinks. "Sir. Our clients in the Living World have a new request. It relates to that package we received from our Living World client." Despite the lively conversations in the dining room, one set of utensils drops, pausing to reply. "I see. Send me the report as soon as you can." Silence. "Well, sir, that's the problem. You see-"

"Do I pay you to run your mouth, or do I pay you to do your job?" More silence. The clinking of glasses and plates. Crunching, chewing, talking through contented voices. "It-it's no trouble, sir. But our client spotted something in the Living World. Something that you need to hear." Chairs shuffle. Some groups leave to play pool. "Fine. What is it you needed to bring to my attention?" "Well, sir, take a look at this." The passing of a board. A small file is attached via email. Swiping on the surface. Tapping buttons. The spewing of a drink. The rug is stained with red wine. "You're...you're shitting me. You have to be." "I-I'm not, sir. He's coming to New York, and fast."

More chairs shuffle. Scraping on the carpet. Footsteps retreat into the next room over. "Oh, this isn't good. No, this is not good in the slightest. When was this footage taken?" The door closes. More chairs are moved. "Five hours ago, sir. We estimate he will still be on the trip for another handful of minutes." Knuckles tighten. Sweat beads on the floor in droplets. "Should...should I alert your boss about this?" Silence. The ticking of a clock, slow, hammering in the silence. A light switch flickers on and off. "Sir?" "I heard you." Heavy heartbeats. "No. No, we will not be telling any of the Higher Ups about this slip up. We keep this quiet. The operation still stands, the cards are still stacked in our favor.

"There is no need for any of this to reach the ears of our superiors. Just keep doing what you're doing, and if he tries to interfere, then so be it. Things crash, shit hits the fan, we leave before anyone knows we were even here. To them, we're just the scraps from another grand feast at their table. Move silent, keep your trap shut about this, and whatever you do, do not engage the Sin Hunter unless I give the word, is that clear?" Stunned silence. The muffling of footsteps and cheering erupt from the wall. "Of course, sir. I'll get back to work." The pat of a scaly hand on a leathery shoulder. "I know you will. Now go, enjoy the rest of the feast before those goons eat it all up."

A door closes. Smoke emits from a cigar. A puff produces a ring, coiling, wiping, then gone in the lamp light. "So...looks like the Sin Hunter just couldn't keep his nose out of trouble, could he? Fair enough for me." Footsteps stride to the window across. Curtains are pulled. Greed is revealed in a shimmering emerald display. Skylights, spotlights, blimps, lights, billboards, roadways, traffic, all bright and shining in the nocturne green night sky. "Bubzy told me stories about this Sin Hunter fella. Says he did him good and proper the first time they fought. But we'll see what happens when he swings on someone with less of a conscience about turning skulls into spaghetti sauce."