Monsters

Threatening People and Other Fun Things

By now you might be wondering, where's the magic in this thing anyway? Hold your dang horses, we are getting there; this is a tale, after all. 

Amy Anderson stepped out of the shadows in the hefty man's office. He had a lovely mahogany desk, a velvet wine-colored chair, and (Amy couldn't help but notice) quite few bullet holes in the wall opposite his desk. There would be many more in the years to come, but at this time, there were exactly 37 holes. 

"Ma'am, I don't know what death wish you have, walking into my office like that, but you better learn real quick that you don't enter without an appointment here." His chair was not facing her, and his face was obscured from view, but she could just about imagine the haughty smirk stealing across his leathery face.

"And you sir, better learn real quick that it would be wise not to speak to me that way." She leaned against the bullet-sprayed wall and crossed her arms. In the face of disrespect, the man spun in his chair and drew his pistol, like an old west gunslinger. A look of pure surprise crossed his deeply lined face; one that quickly turned to laughter.

He lowered the gun and bent, if you could even call it that with that kind of belly, over in laughter, "Have ya never been outside before kid? You know, seen the sun?" He was a bulldog faced man, flapping jowls hung noticeably from his jaw. Amy left a blank, forbidding look on her face but was chuckling, on the inside, for a severely different reason. She did have an almost paper white complexion, one that no human being, however tan repellent that they might be, could not match.

"I've most definitely seen the sun sir; in fact, my sister adores it," she rolled her eyes and slinked across the room towards the man, "but, have you ever seen this?" She lunged forward and took hold of the man's hairy arm. He shrieked in terror. From the point of contact, spidery black veins spread throughout his flesh. Amy grinned fiercely when she saw the threads stand out ominously on his smug, sagging face. She released him from her grasp and he fell with a thud on the exquisitely detailed rug. 

"What.The.Hell.Was.That." He rasped out.

She chuckled. "That my good sir, was what what will be the death of you. Unless, of course, you agree to my proposal."

"You never said anything about a proposal." His eyes were watering profusely.

"I like to do my threatening first, it's more fun that way." She threw a $10 bill at him. "Here's the deal, you've got a basement on 4th street that I want. There's your money. My mom said never to steal from anyone. And I dare you to call the police, because they're going to want to know how you obtained ownership in the first place. I've been watching, and there isn't a thug you could send my way that would even be challenge for me to take down. In fact, I'd like to see you try." She turned and walked towards the door.

"Who are you?" He growled out with the last bit of his grit.

Amy spun gracefully and smirked, she'd been waiting for this moment, "You can call me 'The Phantom'."