Post by Deleted on Apr 15, 2021 13:02:31 GMT -8
It was closing time.
Maks always stayed until closing when Natasha was on and when his work permitted. The Russian waited outside in the shadows, the bar’s back door in clear view. It was a quiet night. Every so often the purring of a passing car would break the silence.
The old rusted door opened with a creak and outstepped his great granddaughter. She began walking through the alley.
Maks followed through the twists of the labyrinth of Vegas alleyways.
She didn’t see the other man come from the shadows like a wraith, a gun in hand.
Maks had.
She didn’t know she was about to be mugged.
Maks did.
The behemoth moved quickly with surprising grace and stealth. After Natasha had rounded a corner, he called to his prey, the sound of grinding tectonic plates coming from his throat. A mountain given voice. “Savok,” he uttered. His accent had not left him.
The man turned, gun swinging but it was quickly grabbed and the weapon fell from his grasp. The hand slowly was crushed by the Ogre’s own glove clad fist. Before he could scream, Maks’ other hand crashed into his gut with the gentleness of a freight train and the man felt several somethings snap. Bile mixed with crimson immediately spewed forth from his mouth. As he pitched forward onto his knees to try to suck in air, an ivory hand gripped his neck and closed the airway, any sound from the mouth now silenced. Suddenly the man was lifted and harshly slammed against the brickwork, gasping desperately for what his lungs needed.
Cold steel grey eyes bored into the would-be attacker as the grip tightened and his neck popped. Hands scrabbled at Maks’ own but no ground was given. He tried to speak. “Konchaj bazar,” Maks commanded. “You tried to harm her. To kill her.” Maks used his foot to bring the gun closer. Keeping his eyes on the man, he picked it up with his free hand. Maks forced it into the man’s hand while loosening his grip slightly.
Damaging the body too much would be bad. The Ogre worked the unbroken fingers onto the trigger and the man was begging with his eyes.
Maks forced it to his temple and held the man so his feet were just barely on the ground. “Ubit’ sebya.”
A flash of light and a shattering crack echoed from the dark.
Maks always stayed until closing when Natasha was on and when his work permitted. The Russian waited outside in the shadows, the bar’s back door in clear view. It was a quiet night. Every so often the purring of a passing car would break the silence.
The old rusted door opened with a creak and outstepped his great granddaughter. She began walking through the alley.
Maks followed through the twists of the labyrinth of Vegas alleyways.
She didn’t see the other man come from the shadows like a wraith, a gun in hand.
Maks had.
She didn’t know she was about to be mugged.
Maks did.
The behemoth moved quickly with surprising grace and stealth. After Natasha had rounded a corner, he called to his prey, the sound of grinding tectonic plates coming from his throat. A mountain given voice. “Savok,” he uttered. His accent had not left him.
The man turned, gun swinging but it was quickly grabbed and the weapon fell from his grasp. The hand slowly was crushed by the Ogre’s own glove clad fist. Before he could scream, Maks’ other hand crashed into his gut with the gentleness of a freight train and the man felt several somethings snap. Bile mixed with crimson immediately spewed forth from his mouth. As he pitched forward onto his knees to try to suck in air, an ivory hand gripped his neck and closed the airway, any sound from the mouth now silenced. Suddenly the man was lifted and harshly slammed against the brickwork, gasping desperately for what his lungs needed.
Cold steel grey eyes bored into the would-be attacker as the grip tightened and his neck popped. Hands scrabbled at Maks’ own but no ground was given. He tried to speak. “Konchaj bazar,” Maks commanded. “You tried to harm her. To kill her.” Maks used his foot to bring the gun closer. Keeping his eyes on the man, he picked it up with his free hand. Maks forced it into the man’s hand while loosening his grip slightly.
Damaging the body too much would be bad. The Ogre worked the unbroken fingers onto the trigger and the man was begging with his eyes.
Maks forced it to his temple and held the man so his feet were just barely on the ground. “Ubit’ sebya.”
A flash of light and a shattering crack echoed from the dark.
Translations:
Savok — Asshole
Konchaj bazar — Stop Talking
Ubit’ sebya — Kill yourself
Savok — Asshole
Konchaj bazar — Stop Talking
Ubit’ sebya — Kill yourself