My friends and I are doing randomly weekly prompt challenges to inspire us to write more. I didn’t do last weeks and finished this weeks 3am on the due date. oops. I managed to snag some inspiration from my OC’s from back in the day. Hope you enjoy!
Week 5: “I will collect your spines as trophies.”
“So this is where the big bad Nathaniel Hale has been hiding?” The man was smiling, arms spread wide as if he were taking in the place and found it amusing. Behind him walk five more men, each bigger than him by half; each armed with a visible gun at their waist; none of them were smiling.
“A warehouse.” the leader continued shaking his head, “Its always a warehouse with you old heads. Can’t keep up with modern times, no one needs warehouses anymore.”
Nathaniel stared at the man with his dark eyes narrowed, waiting for him to finish his peacocking. Devon Thurner, only 35 if he was a day, still wet behind the ears; still prouder than he was smart. This man had to have a heavy pair to demand an audience and then stroll in like God himself, and eventually they’d be pulling him towards the bottom of the lake.
“Thurner.” Nathaniel said. He was standing on a raised dais; the only thing of note in the otherwise bland warehouse space. Thurner was right, warehouses were a cliche bit the old heads played to death, the young upstarts preferred private homes or front businesses; things that couldn’t store as many tricks as a well rigged and fully manned warehouse space. “Just the man I wanted to see; tell me about West End.”
The older man crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow at the new arrival; the same look he’d given his oldest daughter when she’d needed to explain something he already knew all about. The young man didn’t appreciate it.
“Oh come off it old man,” he said. “You know damn well what happened over at West End, and you know damn well why I came here today.”
He looked around, Nathaniel saw him noting the lack of guards. “How much do you want old timer?”
Nathaniel allowed himself a chuckle; yeah, kid had balls for days it seemed. “For what?” he asked, a smile teasing the edges of his lips. Thurber rolled his eyes and scoffed; maybe not 35, Nathaniel decided, 30 and just.
“For your clients. Your suppliers. Your,” he looked around laughing. “Warehouse.”
Nathaniel nodded slow, like he was thinking about it. Then he uncrossed his arms and sat in the chair behind him, his throne if you will.
“How about this,” he began. “You turn around right now, leave this building, leave this state; go back to your petty dealings and pocket change. If you keep your head low and your nose clean you might just live long enough to serve out a prison sentence.” Nathaniel leaned back, crossed his legs, waited for the inevitable.
“Heh.” Thurners smile turned into a scowl. “I heard you were a piece of work.”
“You don’t live to my age without being something.”
“You’ve had a good run. Step aside old man, this doesn’t have to get ugly.” Nathaniel laughed. Full on belly laughed like he was at home with his son reading comic books.
“You’ve been dismissed.”
“Fuck you. You can’t do shit old man.”
The 5 men behind him pulled their fire arms, took aim, and pulled the triggers before Nathaniel could react. When he did react it was an involuntary flinch as each of the bullets struck the electrified barrier in front of his throne sending spider webs of current shooting along it. It always spooked him even when he saw it coming. The young men in front of him were all stupefied for a second too long; with a twitch of his hand Nathaniel signaled his guards, well hidden behind the walls, and 5 more shots rang out. This time 5 bodies slumped to the floor which had become, in the space of a few heartbeats, a pool of blood and brains and skull fragments. Thurner stood in the center, a wet patch appearing on his jeans.
Wasting no time Nathaniel lowered his barrier and approached the young man, holding him up by the front of his shirt with one hand, pressing a short, razor sharp blade to his groin with the other.
“I think you’ll find,” Nathaniel breathed in Thurners ear. “That I can do a great deal more than you expected. You will leave. You will warn all of your little friends. You will all keep your noses out of my business. Or I will hunt down every one of your pretty little spouses and make them wish they’d never met you. I will sell your children to the first vampire I find with the thirst on him. I will collect your spines as trophies. Am I making myself perfectly clear Thurner?”
The young man tried to nod. Nathaniel bared his teeth at the pathetic effort. “You young men always come swaggering in here thinking you’ve got balks of steel, trying to start at the top, trying to pull us old heads down.” He buried the blade in the mans testicles, holding it there while he screamed. “You’re just a man Thurner. But I’m a better one.”
It was 3am when a shiny black car with blacked out windows, carrying Nathaniel Hale, drove south through the tunnel that led under the mountains and emerged on the other side with a twin. Identical in everything except destination, one of the cars took the first exit and swung east, the other continued south along the highway. A few minutes later a green sedan left the tunnel heading north.
The man who called himself Nathaniel Hale ran his hand through his hair as he drove, trying to get as much of the styling out and return it to its natural side part. He had taken his nonprescription contacts out in the van and his blue eyes shone in the moonlight as he looked around for the wildlife that was perpetually trying to commit suicide under his tires. One of the few downsides to living in the desert. By 4am the little sedan was pulling into a neighborhood of homes with price tags containing the word “millions” plural. Several times plural. His was toward the edge, by the man made lake.
As he entered the house the automatic lights flicked on in the hall illuminating the marble floors and the art on the walls. Art done by his children mostly but the occasional painting acquired in trade. The man who called himself Nathaniel only glanced at these as he made his way to the first floor shower; there was still blood under his nails.
Under the hot water he scrubbed it away; scrubbed the desert sand, the memories, Nathaniel himself down the drain. He put Nathaniels clothes in the bin for tomorrows laundry, brushed the taste of Nathaniels dinner from his mouth. By the time he emerged from the bathroom Nathaniel was nowhere to be found . He made his way up the stairs and down the hall opening the last door; inside was barely lit by the moonlight pouring in the large windows. It was enough light to see the little boy who had been asleep in his crib stir and look up at him.
“Pop?” the toddler yawned.
“Good morning Bennie,” the grandfather answered. “Need that diaper changed yet?”
The boy nodded his already drooping head earning him a laugh. With a fresh diaper and his arms wrapped firmly around his grandfathers neck Bennie was along for the ride as his grandfather walked back up the hall and opened another door. This time there was a dim light on by the bed, to keep him from bumping into things and making noise. He never saw the point of it because the man asleep on the other side of the bed always woke up regardless of how much or little noise was made.
“Colin?” Landen murmured looking up at his husband in the dim light.
“It’s me babe.” Colin whispered back. “I brought Bennie too.”
Landen nodded. His eyes were closed but he pulled the other side of the blanket down to accommodate the newcomers.
“Get over here you two.” he said.
“Yes sir” Colin answered. With his grandson sprawled on his chest, and his husband curled under his arm Colin Dean drifted off to sleep.
This is the part where I make excuses; it was written hastily on my phone at 3am after a 10 hour work day on my feet and now I’m posting it 6 hours later before work again so you get wht you get I suppose. I still genuinely enjoy it though because Landen and Colin are my favorite OC’s and my true loves ❤