The girls stood around the table and listened intently, as though they had not heard the story a hundred times already. Ignoring the hands rubbing all over them as they oohed and aahed at just the right moments, they raised their hands to their faces in feigned excitement so as to seem completely spellbound by the thrilling tale.
Then one of the girls let out a short-breathed gasp, one that had nothing to do with her being penetrated harshly by the storyteller’s finger as she sat on his lap. There was another figure in the room, which nobody had seen or even heard come in. The dark-robed man was sitting at a table opposite the group with his arms crossed and his black hood worn low over his face.
The whole group eyed the stranger anxiously while remaining silent as mice. The cloaked figure did not move a muscle or even seem to breathe. The leather who had been doing most of the talking was a large man with a thick, red beard. He leaned forward on the table, being the first to break the silence. “Hey there, stranger, can’t you see we’re closed?” he said a little more timidly than he had intended, which took some of the bite out of his attempt to appear tough. The dark figure didn’t say a word or even move a muscle as the tension became so thick you could cut it with a knife. Clearing his throat after his awkward attempt for humor, his looked to his friends for some sort of support. “Whatever happened to Will? He was supposed to meet us here over an hour ago,” he said when the silence became unbearable. Not that he cared why his friend didn’t show up. He might have gone home with one of the whores for all anyone knew. The man was just trying to get some conversation going to help distract from the hooded figure he was suddenly sorry to have ever spoken to.
“Don’t know,” replied the dark-haired, clean-shaven leather on his left, “must be busy polishing that green ring he’s always bragging about.” The three leathers laughed out loud as the girls timidly joined in. It was true, Will always did brag about the ring he’d stolen from some guy he supposedly killed right after raping his wife and forcing the man to watch. Nobody knew for sure if the story was true. Seemed to be a little different every time he told it.
The leathers had now put the dark figure out of their minds, so much so that they never even noticed when he walked over behind their table and hovered there a few moments. What they did notice was the severed hand thrown onto the table, still wearing the same green ring they had been speaking of. There was instant chaos. All three men leapt from their chairs with weapons drawn as the kicked table went flying. The girls screamed and ran toward Vega, who had already pulled his steel crossbow out from a hidden trapdoor concealed behind the bar.
The hooded figure jumped back a few steps but did not draw the daggers that were attached to his leather belt. He just stood there with his arms crossed in a defiant stance. All three leathers rushed him at the same time as each attacked at a different level. They were highly trained and knew very well how to attack as a group. At the last possible second the dark figure snapped both wrists in a whip-like motion towards the ceiling as a dagger snapped into each hand with a click from some sort of mechanical device embedded in his sleeves.
One of the leathers attacked high while the other two attacked low. Then they would suddenly reverse their angles as they continued the assault. The dark figure was purely on the defensive as he parried every single blow while lifting a leg when necessary to dodge a low attack, but never backed up one inch. Arms pumped in circles as the whirling blades deflected every thrust and slash with a solid clanging sound, sending occasional sparks flying off in different directions.
Then, like a lightning bolt, he broke the deadlock by throwing a high kick that caught one of the lowlifes square in the face. Using the opening, he bolted across the room, right at the fourth, who was frantically hopping on one leg, trying to get his pants on. The stranger ran right past him and seemed to have made no aggressive movements toward him at all. It was not until the Leather spun a complete circle that they noticed how his eyes bulged and his throat sprayed warm blood like a fountain. No one even saw the strike!
The dark figure never broke stride as it ran straight toward the wall and up its side toward the ceiling, completely defying gravity, then sprung off the wall and over the top of his pursuers, who had chased him stride for stride, while landing on the far table without even stumbling. All three leathers turned at the same time to face their attacker.