In Hell We Dance

Mask

A pretty decent turnout tonight. No Connor. I told him to stay home. I sit at the bar, strumming my fingers along the counter, swirling a glass of rum with my other hand. Taking a sip, I glance over, finding Corin by the pool table, blending in with the shadows. Freaky thing: it looks like she belongs there.

It's not hard to spot Xander. Pisshead, practically wearing a sign shouting it. Tall, lanky as hell. Thick tracksuit with complimentary bling. Mohawk and a plain, almost unattractive mug. I know his type. Prickly, but that ain't shit to me. I grew up with real daredevils; cunts that make this bitch look like a puppy in a room full of Rottweilers. Those guys and gals delivered bruises and shattered bones without blinking their eyes, and they taught me how cold hearts can be. I might not be as remorseless as those bastards, but I know how to put on their mask. It's second nature.

I saunter up to him like an old friend, offering to buy the good man a drink. Tossheads like him like that. He remains cool, but he's interested. Just enough bite so I can reel him in. I direct him and his mates to the bar, but drag my new buddy over to the pool table, where Corin has disappeared further back into darkness.

Xander takes a cue and I set my glass down, lining up the balls in the triangle. He takes the first shot and I down my rum. With a sigh, I wait for him to pass me then I clap him on the back. Picking up my own cue, I check the top's all chalked up, then I take my sweet time, getting the perfect aim. Bang! Balls go spinning, and the three finds a home, the white lead halting its ass before the middle hole. I play up my sigh, then catch Corin's eyes. She's pissed. Wants me to hurry this up. Alright, alright!

Relax. Isaac knows what he's doing, honey.

I wait for Xander to make his next shot, then I wrap my arm around his shoulder, smirking in his face.

"Now see, I'm giving you special treatment because I know a friend of yours."

"That right?" he grunts.

"Yup! She's got a lot of things to say about you." He puffs himself up. "Not a damn thing there that's nice." His face falls, and like the shark I am, I go in for the kill.

"See, I put a lot of my soul into this place. Poured it right out. Nasty stuff in there. But still, this place... It's my baby. And you, you my friend, came in with your lame-ass hair, and your grubby little cock..." I clutch at his groin, pausing just an inch away, and he winces, glancing down, before gulping and staring at me, a glint of nervousness in there. "and pissed all over the willow. Now I like that tree. I really like that tree.

"But let's forget about that for a sec. 'Cause you, my friend, did something far worse to this friend. I think you know her well. You harassed her. You made advances on her that signal you out as the pussy you are. What's worse, you think things like that are OK. Now me, I'm no saint. I stray too far in the shadows. The difference between you and me, mate, is that I have principles. If I fuck up, chances are, I'll feel horrible after. Horrible enough to do something... drastic."

I snap at his nose, and he winces. He tries to look over his shoulder, get his backup, but I take his chin in my hand and twist it back to me. He may be tall, but I'm the one in control. I have all the power.

"I've hurt people. Hurt them real bad. I atone if I can. But when I come upon limp-dick, spineless motherfuckers like you, I find I have little mercy. See, I won't regret snapping your neck. Maybe start with your shins first." I choose this moment to produce my silver baby from my back pocket, and I press it against his knee. His eyes shoot open at the sight, then he glances sharply back at me, but I'm smiling lazily, acting like this ain't shit. That's how you get 'em. "The kneecap's a good place to start." I glide the barrel up his trousers, right to his groin. "You aren't a real man without that, are you? I mean, you never were to begin with, but I shoot you there, you lose a whole world of opportunities. You live, but you live with that. No shoving that tiny little stump into unwanted avenues. Can't even jack off anymore. What. A. Shame. Doesn't sound very nice, huh?"