Aedric And The Villains

Aedric walked into Scruffy Murphy’s. He stood for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, which did pretty little to hide the bar’s shabbiness. The skunk-smell of beer assaulted his nostrils. His unease deepened as he checked the patrons. He was the only one in chino’s and a sports jacket.

But for the underlying threat in Ryan Campbell’s text, he would have there and then turned on his heel. Avoiding eye contact, he approached the harried blonde bar tender of indeterminate age. Her lip curled as he placed his order, giving him a once over. He kept his face blank, picked up the glass of coke she sloshed in front of him, and moved to the table at the back. Ryan was due to meet him in ten minutes.

There were no coasters on the sticky table. He wondered if the glass containing his coke was clean. Probably not. He put it down and lowered himself onto a plastic covered chair. He never thought his youthful indiscretion entertaining the idea of joining the Dark Forces would catch up to him now that he was in his mid-fifties. If it came to light, it could put his entire future with Grace Adelstein, Light Force leader of earth, in jeopardy.

With an eye on the door, he tried and failed to conjure an image of Ryan. He could only hope to recognise him once he entered the bar. Ryan must have been at the Dark Force ceremony when he changed his mind and bolted.

A movement to his left had him turn his head. It was only the bartender leaving through the fire exit, a cigarette in her hand. He slightly turned his body, watching both the front door and unlatched fire exit.

The front door squealed. A sextet of leather jackets entered. Four males. Two females. Each holding a chain at their side. The patrons parted, and they bore down on him. Each one’s chain swung slightly. The odds were not in his favour. Without moving his head, he rolled his eyes sideways. The fire exit was still unlatched.

Aedric put his hand in his jacket pocket and fisted his car key so it protruded between his index and middle fingers. It would have to do if it comes to that. It was all he had. He bent forward slightly. He remembered his instructor’s words from way back. Angry men never think clearly. That could be another advantage in his scant armour.

Amoure Kleu Author, Creative Writing, Fantasy Author Australia

Buzz-cut stepped up, tapping the table with his chain. Pock-face and Weasel stayed a step back with the two hard-faced stiletto-heeled women.

‘What are you doing sitting at our table, old man?’

‘Did not see your name on it, my man, or a reserve sign.’

Buzz-cut’s face reddened. He fisted his chain encased hand on the table, jabbing it with a sausage finger from his other hand.

‘Well. I am telling you this is our table and we have not invited you to sit at it.’

Aedric got up and saw Buzz-cut gripping the edges of the table. He twisted his body, dropped his shoulder and upended the table into Buzz-cut’s chest. Moving with the momentum he shoved the table into Buzz-cut’s chest. Buzz-cut stumbled into Pock face and Aedric used the moment of confusion to move towards the fire exit.

One of the stiletto-heels cut off his escape. She swung her chain at him. Aedric sidestepped and plunged his car key into the back of her upper arm, just above the elbow. He caught the chain as she dropped it.

‘You bastard.’

The other stiletto heeled hell-cat stormed. Aedric swung his newly gained chain and cracked it across her wrist. She stumbled. He grabbed her by the scruff, twisted her around, pinning her to his chest with back against him. His front shielded by her, he shuffle-reverse-stepped three steps to the fire exit. Reaching the door, he shoved her. She windmilled into Weasel face. They collapsed in a heap of flailing limbs, blocking Buzz-cut’s approach.

Adrenalin-fuelled, he ran around the industrial garbage bin beside the fire exit and rolled it on protesting wheels across the fire exit. He was lucky it was empty. He ran down the alley. Winded, he kept to the shadows as he quick-stepped to his car, parked a block over.

Cautious to not attract the attention of the group milling outside the bar’s front door, Aedric eased into the traffic and slipped through an orange traffic light. A few evasive turns later, he was sure he had no tail.

On the road back to Silken Oak Estate, he decided he had to come clean with Grace about his past. It was the only way to banish the sword hanging over his head.

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    Amoure Kleu Author, Creative Writing, Fantasy Author Australia

    Image by bigdan from Deposit Photos

    Amoure Kleu Author, Creative Writing, Fantasy Author Australia

    Image by bigdan from Deposit Photos

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