Black is Back! Pt 1

[Absolution Black]

NOW ALL FOUR PARTS ARE CONTAINED IN THIS THREAD FOR EASE OF READING!! (Unlike these capitals ;) )



This is my first attempt at some Malifaux fiction. It is a four parter that introduces the main protaganists, and gives some clues to their past (which will be explored in the future). I have written it with the focus on these characters and I am deliberately leaving the main characters as bit parts (cameos in scenes, or mentioned in conversation etc) as I don't feel I could do these characters justice and wouldn't want to step on the creator's toes!! Please leave any comments after this or any of the parts. I plan on writing alot more, its just whether its worth me posting them here!


Anyway, on with the show!!


He could see the glow from the theatre in the distance as he made his way along the cobbled back streets of Malifaux. It had been a while since he had walked these paths and he was savouring the feel of the rough stone beneath his feet, the smell of wood smoke from the many houses that lined the darkened route. A faint light splashed across the street, almost swallowed by the misty air that seemed to cling to every roof.

He heard them long before he saw their shadows flitting from one side of the street to the gloom on the other. He smiled to himself as he imagined they were proud of how silent they were being, but it would take a lot more skill to hide themselves from him. He counted at least two, possibly a third. It would be an interesting encounter, though he knew the odds were stacked heavily in his favour.

As he turned the corner into a side street the attack came, swift and silent. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the night, slowing his breathing until it felt like time was slowing down around him. With a flick of one arm he caught the wrist of the first assailant, snapping the bone as if it was made of chalk, the wicked blade tumbling from the man’s fingers to the ground below. The unfortunate man screamed as he grabbed his ruined hand, and this was his final mistake. He looked up in time to see the cane as it smashed through his eye and his skull.

The second attacker was on him almost immediately and he felt the rush of wind as the blade sliced past his cheek, but fell wide of the mark. He swung a leg around and connected with the thin man’s calves, spilling him backwards onto the hard ground. He felt a hint of admiration for the assailant as he made a vain attempt to stand, even though he was gasping for air, the force of the blow having winded him. Still, it was only a hint of admiration, and kicking the flailing knife hand away he raised the spiked cane and drove it into the chest of the stricken man. The cracking of ribs was satisfying and as the last breaths mingled with blood, the second man slumped back to the floor.

He pulled the cane free from the body, and looked into the falling mist. Yes, there was a third man. He straightened as he heard the footsteps disappearing into the distance. He smiled, at least one of the three had some wits about him. Pulling a cloth from his jacket pocket, he wiped the blood from the lacquered cane and tossed the rag aside in the street. Then he reached into his pocket and tossed the card onto the body nearest him.

Straightening his hat, he stepped out of the alley and continued on his way to the Theatre. He had business to do this night and didn’t want this minor distraction to interfere.........


The captain lit a cigarette and coughed as he watched his squad look over the bodies. Tonight was shaping up to be a very weird night, and this damned mist was not helping. He took a long drag before he shouted over to the nearest guardsman as he held the smashed skull in his hands.

“I guess we don’t need the coroner to see how these died”. He chuckled, and this swiftly turned into a racking cough.

“And I really should give these up”. He snarled, flicking the ash from the end.

The second guardsman, a sickly looking individual in the captain’s eyes, stepped forward and saluted.

“I found this on the second body sir”. He passed the card to the captain who rolled it over in his stubby fingers.

It was a regular calling card, yet it was completely black. No writing, symbols or anything adorned the surfaces. The captain gave a small laugh as he placed the card into his pocket.

“So, He’s back.” He took another deep drag. “I guess things are going to get interesting from now on”.

[Doctor Amos]

Yay!

I guess I'll have to write something now. You know, get this writing room up and running again.

[Absolution Black]

Well, I already have another two stories in the pipeline for 'Black', that continue the arc started here, so this section may become a bit busier!

[Sliver Chocobo]

Nice, I have idea for my own story arc, I got the imagination but I ant to good with words if you understand me

[Absolution Black]

Thats ok, just get someone you know to read through it first, usually another person will spot the things we miss as writers!
And besides, I am assuming we are all amateur writers here so don't worry, just go for it!

[Dark Alleycat]

*nods* indeed. a fresh set of eyes is the best asset for a painter or a writer.

[xxXhayzelXxx]

wow... Dude whens the next one a'coming? *sits on edge of seat*

[Absolution Black]

Well hayzel, there should be 4 parts of Black is Back knocking around on here, and also 2 parts of Book 2 (A Black day).

Part 3 will be up soon!

[Absolution Black]

Part 2

As he entered the Theatre’s main hall, the wall of sound washed over him. There was also a certain smell: a mix of alcohol, dirty clothing and smoke that you experienced whenever you entered such an establishment. The Theatre was packed tonight. No doubt full of miners down from the hills on a rare trip to the city. Off duty Guild officers mixed freely with known criminals, all intent on having a good time. He scouted the room quickly and spotted a quieter table in the far corner to his left.

He sat on the solid wooden chair and waited for the serving girl to take his order. It pained him to be here, in so public a place. He plied his craft in the shadows, away from the glare of the masses. Yet, he was being paid a large sum for this job, and though he wasn’t short of money, it was too good an offer to turn down. He tilted the brim of his hat lower to shield his eyes as he surveyed the room.

It was then that he spotted her, serving drinks at a table nearby. She was exactly as described: a pretty young thing, not more than twenty. Her auburn hair was put up in an intricate mix of curls and plaits, her skin pale and delicate. She wore the standard corset dress of all the girls here, a pastel green with linings of black and white. The cut of the dress exposed her thighs, showing the stocking tops to all and sundry. She smiled as she took orders from the rowdy men, and flirted with them playfully, looking every inch at home here.

As she walked away with the order, one of the men slapped her across the rump with his palm, and she yelped in mock surprise and allowed herself to jump a little bit. The men burst into raucous laughter. Black smiled, this girl knew how to work her audience. The rumours of this place were true. The new owner, a Colette Dubois, obviously taught her girls all the right tricks. He sat and waited for the show to start as his drink was placed on the table before him. He waved a note at the girl and she reached into her skirts to get his change, but he dismissed her with a flick of his hand.

The show was probably very good but Black never once took his eyes off the serving girl, tracking her movements, reading her mannerisms, learning all about her and memorising the layout of the Theatre. There was a loud cheer as the interval began, the men raising their glasses and hats in tribute to the girls on stage. Now was the time to take action. He stood from his table and walked silently over to a group of miners across the floor. They fell silent as he stood before them, and he tilted his hat in greeting.

“Gentlemen, I wonder if I may be so bold as to ask a favour from you this evening”

A chubby man to his left guffawed loudly, almost spilling his drink with his exaggerated movements.

“Hear that lads, this fop wants our help! Probably can’t get a girl on his own, so needs a more experienced hand to guide him!”

The laughter broke out around the table, and Black let it run its course, resisting the urge to slice the man’s throat. Instead he took out a cloth bag and tossed it onto the table. It resounded with a heavy clunk. A silver coin escaped from the loosely tied neck, and the focus of every man on that table was suddenly on him.

“ All I ask is that in exactly five minutes, on my signal, you will create a……distraction. This should cover your trouble”. He gestured at the bag of coin on the table.

“A distraction?”

“Nothing too elaborate. Perhaps one of you gentleman could take offence at something the men across from you may have said. Perhaps a fight could break out”.

There was a murmuring of assent from the men around the table. After all, the silver in front of them would keep them in beer for a good few nights. And it was always fun to let off steam once in a while.

Satisfied, Black returned to his table and continued to watch the girl as she flitted between the bar and her customers. As she walked past he noticed a tall blonde standing watchfully against the far wall, and he cursed. It was just his luck that Dubois’ lackey would be on the floor this evening. He’d heard about her skills with the sword and didn't fancy putting his to the test against her.

He nodded towards the group of men and within seconds they had begun to throw punches at the occupants of the table next to them. As chaos descended upon the rear of the theatre he leapt to his feet. Keeping a close eye on the blonde, who was already wading over to the scuffle, he swept past the girl and covered her mouth with one hand, lifting her from the floor with ease with the other.

She struggled and kicked but he was through the door in an instant, before security could even register his presence. One of the men was quicker than the rest though and approached him from the side. Keeping a grip on the girl, he released her mouth and grabbed an ashtray off of the nearest desk, flinging it hard at the approaching man. It smashed into his temple, knocking him to the ground. The girl had only time to release a stifled scream before his hand was over her mouth again.

He burst through the entrance doors and ran to the nearest coach. The footman opened the door and he flung the girl inside, turning to the driver as he followed her in.

“The station, now!”

And then with the clattering of hooves on cobbles, he was gone into the night, his prize now in his possession.

[Absolution Black]

Part 3


As the coach rattled through the streets towards the station, Black looked across at the girl opposite him. He had bound her wrists together as soon as they were inside the carriage. Now she sat there defeated, tears rolling down her cheeks, her makeup smudged around her eyes. Silent sobs racked her body as she resigned herself to her fate. For an instant Black felt a morsel of pity for this girl. Whatever she was returning too must be a whole lot worse than being in Malifaux.

She looked up at him, sniffing as her crying slowed. Her eyes showed sadness but also anger and confusion.

“Why?” she sobbed, “Why are you doing this? Why are you working for them?”

“No questions Girl”. He hated talking almost as much as he hated public places.

“My name is Lydia. At least have the decency to call me that”.

Black leant forward in his seat. She was a plucky thing, he gave her that. Not many people answered back to him.

“I don’t need to know your name. It’s better that I don’t”.

“For who? So you can ease your conscience as you hand me back to those bastards? Do you even know who they are, or was the money they paid enough to turn your head?”.

Black felt the anger surge inside him. He knew he should have gagged her the moment they got in. Yet, as the rage subsided, he took a deep breath.

“Yes, the money was too good to turn down, better than what the Guild pay. Yes, I know exactly who hired me and what they do. Everyone knows what the Dometelli brothers are famous for. Prostitution, drugs, murder.”

He let the final word linger on his tongue for a second, hoping the emphasis would quieten her down. Unfortunately, he conceded, it had the opposite effect.

“And you are so willing to hand me back to them. They’ll kill me if I’m lucky. If I’m not……..”

Her voice trailed off. She sat looking out of the window at the streets flashing past. He could see she wanted to cry again, to let her frustration and sadness take over her. Yet she held it back, keeping a control over her emotions. Black felt a twinge of admiration for her, she was like him in certain aspects. He knew how hard it was to control his emotions, to fight the anger inside that called to him.
In his line of work, it helped to be calm and rational. Recklessness got you caught. Or worse.

They rode in silence for the rest of the journey, her looking out of the tiny pane of glass, her last glimpses of this world. He sat there, looking at her, thinking.

The coach pulled to a halt outside the main station and Black hustled her out into the street, holding her hands behind her back, covered by his jacket. He held a knife to her ribs and whispered a warning that should she try anything, both her life and any others who came to her aid would be forfeit. They walked casually into the main building, looking to the world as a gentleman and his whore.

He scouted around until he saw them, the hired muscle of the Dometelli’s. You couldn’t miss them, two large thickset brutes with features only a mother could love, and even that would be at a push. He guided her across towards them and silently passed her across to one of them. The other sneered as he watched her downcast head.

“Thought you could run, eh bitch?” His smile showed missing teeth. He turned back to Black and handed him a bag of coins.

“The rest of the payment”.

Then they were turning, leading Lydia away. She turned her head back towards Black, her eyes desperate and pleading, and he struggled to look away. One of the brutes grabbed her by the hair and then backhanded her with his fist, causing a spray of blood to scatter across her dress.

“Quit pining whore, the boss wants words with you his’self”.

Black felt the anger surge again. This time he let it take him. Rushing forward, he flung his jacket at the man holding Lydia, but not before he had taken his second knife from a pocket. As the jacket hit the man, he was there, stabbing under the ribcage and thrusting upwards, hitting the lungs. The flailing man fell backwards, red gurgling from his mouth, releasing the girl. In the split second before anyone reacted, as time itself seemed to stand still, he thrust the money-bag into her arms and hissed instructions at her.

“Take this, get in the coach. Tell the driver to take you to my place. Don’t go anywhere else, there is the only place you will be safe. Wait for me to return”.

He sliced the bond holding her wrists and pushed her away as the second man gripped his arm, pulling him backwards. He cursed, he’d been sloppy by concentrating on the girl.

As he watched her running through the screaming crowds, he kicked out backwards, catching the thug on his shins, causing him to release his grip. And that was his assailant’s fatal error. As the rage clouded his vision, Black span as quick as a snake, his blade slicing through the jugular of the surprised man. Blood sprayed out covering the two fighters, and clutching futilely at his neck, the thug crashed to the ground, bleeding out.

The shrill whistles of Guild guards broke the rage and he breathed deeply, the smell of blood in his nostrils. He grabbed his jacket and ran, the crowd parting to let him through. Wisely no-one attempted to be a hero. He heard the click of a revolver and dodged to one side as the bullet grazed the wall next to him. He burst through the main doors and with a quick glance to note the coach had gone, melted away into the night, for the long walk home.