Wrote this for my creative writing class earlier in the semester. Thought I’d share and see what old RPGC thought.
Just Desserts
The man in black stood in the door way, eyeing the graying old priest who was sitting behind his desk.
“Seven thousand rukars. No less,” spoke the man in black.
“I told you three thousand when I said I had a job for you.”
The man in black took a step toward the desk.
“Did you call me because you wanted a job done or to negotiate prices? I normally charge ten thousand for this kind of hit.”
“How about five thousand?” The priest was anxious.
“It’s obvious you don’t want this job done. Don’t call me if you’re going to waste my time. Good day, ‘father.’” The man in black turned to leave the priest’s room.
The priest called out to him, “Zack! Wait! Fine. Seven thousand rukars.”
Zack stopped, keeping his back to the priest.
“That’s more like it. I’ll contact you when the job is complete. Have the money ready.”
Isabel Cromwell sat on her bed, rubbing her stomach gently as she thought about the little bun in her oven. She didn’t know what to do. She was a terrified, fourteen year old girl who’d just been knocked up by a priest several weeks ago. The only person she’d told so far about her pregnancy was the unborn child’s father. She’d thought about telling her parents a few times, but she couldn’t work up the courage. The priest had forced himself upon her. She couldn’t fight, so she just took it. What would her parents think of her? Would they believe her about the priest? Would the baby turn out ok? Could she raise a baby? Would the priest help take care of it? Did she want him helping her take care of the baby? So many things were going through her head.
She sighed heavily as she went over to her…open window?
I could have sworn I shut the window a few minutes ago.
She looked outside in confusion for a moment and then shut the window. She’d just shut it when a hand reached from behind her and covered her mouth. An arm in black clothing immediately wrapped around her upper body to keep her from moving.
“You’re younger than I thought,” a voice whispered into her ear. “Do you know what happens to priests in Rukaria that are found guilty of sleeping with a woman? Let alone a teenage girl? What are you, maybe fifteen?”
“Urm uh vong uh hmm mm?”
“Oh, she wants to talk,” the voice said mockingly. “If I move my hand you have to whisper. If you make a noise loud enough to alert anyone to my presence, I have several knives that will silence you far longer than my hand is right now. Understood?”
Isabel nodded. The man moved his hand away from her mouth.
“Now, what was that you were trying to say a moment ago?” The voice asked.
“I was,” Isabel cleared her throat, “asking if you intended on killing me. How do you know about the priest?”
“You’re rather nosey, aren’t you? To answer your first question, yes, I’m supposed to kill you. Your second question, I know of the priest because he hired me to kill you. And before you ask me anymore questions, allow me to tell you that the priest wants you dead because Rukarian priests aren’t suppose to have sex. It makes them ‘unholy.’ But I’m sure you knew that. Anyhow, if word gets out that he’s expecting a child, he’ll be excommunicated from the church and punished by having his naughty bits removed. He’d lose a position of power and his manhood. Not to mention, he’d face ridicule and shame for the rest of his life for having relations with a girl the age of…how old are you, dear?”
“…Fourteen.”
“Fourteen! The priest will be shamed and ridiculed for fucking a fourteen year old and giving her a child in the process.”
“Eliminate me, eliminate the threat.”
“Precisely. However,” the man unwrapped his arm from her, “You’re younger than I imagined. I don’t enjoy killing children. Turn and face me.”
Isabel stood motionless for a moment, and turned around to see the man who was meant to kill her. He was dressed in black clothing. His brown hair was no longer than an inch or two, but from what she could tell the man had the body of a trained soldier. A sword was slung across his back, and his belt was strapped with throwing knives and a vial of who knows what.
The man looked over her quickly. She was maybe five feet tall. She had long blonde hair, plump breasts, and pretty blue eyes. She was slender in the blue dress she wore.
The man in black extended his hand, “My name is Zack.”
“…Isabel,” she said, shaking his hand briefly.
“Well, Isabel, I have to know…was it consensual?”
She blushed, “…not exactly.”
“And now rape is included in his crimes. Isabel, have you ever killed a man?”
The moon was bright in the midnight sky. The priest couldn’t help but look up and feel a chill go down his spine as he waited in the woods to hear the good news from Zack. All of his worries from the past few weeks were about to disappear. A sense of calm followed by pure delight came over him as he saw Zack moving between the trees to meet him.
“Zack!” the priest called out, with a smile on his face. “How did the job go?”
“It went much better than I anticipated.”
“Excellent. Do you have proof of the deed?”
Zack locked eyes with the priest, reached into a side pouch on his belt, and produced a blue eye long enough for the priest to realize what it was. He dropped it back into the pouch, never taking his eyes off the priest. The priest gave a satisfactory nod.
“She was a beautiful girl when I met her. It’s a shame it had to end the way it did,” Zack told the priest. “Seven thousand rukars.” Zack extended his hand.
“You’re all about business aren’t you?” the priest smiled widely. He took a pouch of Rukarian coins from his belt and handed it to Zack. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Zack.” The priest extended his hand toward Zack. Zack shook the priest’s hand, but didn’t let go.
“It was indeed a pleasure, ‘father.’ It’s a shame it had to end this way,” he said.
The priest gave Zack a confused look. A sharp pain ran into the priest’s back. He fell to his knees and suddenly Zack’s words made sense. His body slumped to the ground, limp.
Zack squatted next to the priest. “So, you’re dying,” he says to the priest. “But this isn’t going to be an easy death for you. You can’t go around raping fourteen year olds, impregnating them, and then having them disposed of just to save your needle dick, ‘father.’ So far you’ve lost control of your muscles, right? Well, let me explain to you just how you’ll die. Come around here, will you Isabel?”
He motioned to Isabel and she stepped around into the priest’s line of sight. She was holding a bloody dagger in her hand.
“Do you see the dagger in Isabel’s hand, ‘father?’ The blade was soaked in poison for several hours. What this poison does is work in seven steps. First, you lose your ability to control your muscles. Second, your muscles will begin to ache. Third, they’ll feel as though they’re on fire. Fourth, the burning sensation will cease and you’ll begin to feel light headed. Fifth, you’ll vomit for a few minutes. Sixth, you’ll feel better for about five minutes. Seventh, your heart will cease. Oh, wanna see something neat?”
Zack pulled the blue eye out of his pouch again and held it closer to the priest’s face. “It’s a glass eye. A man gave it to me as collateral for winning a game of dice a couple of weeks ago until he could come up with the 300 rukars he owes me. But you don’t really care about that, do you? Oh, I think Isabel would like to say something to you.”
Isabel squatted next the priest and spat on him. “Rot in hell,” were the only words she could muster. Her eyes were teary and full of hate. The priest’s eyes were full or remorse and terror.
Zack looked at the priest, “We should probably be going now. Enjoy your last few miserable minutes.” Zack and Isabel stood up and began to walk back to town from the woods.
Isabel smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said to him, crying a little.
“I should be going,” Zack told her, “but before that…”
Zack took a thousand rukars out of the pouch that the priest had given him and handed the rest of the pouch over to Isabel.
“You’ll need this to help raise that baby of yours,” he said to her.
Any and all criticism is welcome!
