Grim sat in his office, alone. He had to admit to himself that maybe all his employees had left of their own accord.
First Elise, the Midnighter who kind of felt out of place in the first place.
Then Millie. Her disappearance wasn’t a surprise; she often disappeared for weeks at a time.
Then Leodus, probably being sucked dry by that vampire.
Then Dymir, captured maybe? Disappeared certainly. All his own attempts were futile. Maybe she put a magical cloak around herself to not be found.
Now Gesture. Ges, who had promised he wouldn’t abandon him. Ges, who near the last time they met, said he couldn’t be controlled. Ges, who he had loved again, and was ready to give up his life for – in fact, did – to that damnable demon, asking for immortality, to spend his life with the man he loved.
He slammed his palm on the desk, then shook his hand as pain radiated through his hand and arm. It was harder than it looked, made out of real wood at his request, not simple pressboard. The entire office hadn’t been finished, and he told the builder to forget about the workshop. He had plenty of money to pay the rent for the next three years if he wanted to.
He had let Jane go that morning, with a very nice severance package of three months’ pay. She had only been with him a month, and he truly liked her. Now, he didn’t want her to see him in a rage like this so thought it best she leave.
He glared angrily at the bottles and books scattered throughout his office, as if it was all their fault. All this anger in him, he needed to let it out, do something constructive with it. He got up, threw on his coat, and headed to Croatoa.
As he sat on the train, he saw six close-knit heroes chatting just a few seats away. He could tell they were heroes by the spandex and capes, and stilletto heels on the girls. The oldest looked about 20. Compared to him, he felt slightly underdressed, in his black Aegis that Athena had given him, disguised as a trenchcoat. He sat looked out the window at passing water.
“Where are you going?” A girl’s voice broke into his reverie.
“Croatoa,” he said.
“Oh, us too!”
Then a young man in blue stars and head-to-toe tights jumped up and stood between the him and the girl. “You hold murderous intent!” He pointed at Grim.
Grim absently put up a forcefield with a simple movement of his hand. “Yeah, and?”
The heroes looked at each other. Grim laughed and put his feet up on the seat on the side of him. “What are you going to do about it?”
A girl had a small burst of fire in her hand. Grim saw it and admonished, with his index finger wagging back and forth, “Eh, eh, eh. You start a fire, this car will go up in a ball of fire, and all the other cars will fall off the monorail into the sea with the hole in the track you’re going to cause. Anything else in your arsenal?” Just in case, Grim spoke a spell in Egyptian, one that would reflect anything they threw at him threefold, at least for the next fifteen minutes. He doubted any of the kids knew what it was.
He was highly gratified when he saw the boy in blue step back, holding his head and wincing in pain. Next thing he knew, the oldest one in white came at him, blowing through his force field like it was paper, and throwing him to the floor of the train. He banged his head on the metal floor and saw stars.
He barely moved out of the way of an incoming fist that would have turned his head into mush, and instead put a hole in the floor. Grim fought dirty, kneeing the young man in the groin. Even with a cup, he knew it would hurt temporarily. The young man grunted in pain. He shoved the heavy young man off him with a rune of force, sending him into his comrades. One of them had a .44 pistol aimed right at him. Grim shouted a one word command and dove to the side. Instead of hitting his head, it hit his shoulder, blowing it almost clean off.
Grim immediately took life force from those around him to kill the pain, and then turned to the group. The strong man came at him again, and Grim put his right hand up, thrusting it into the man’s chest, right above the heart. The dark river flowed through him, encasing his shoulder in a thick, black ink. The young man jerked like he was being electocuted. After a moment he pulled out his hand, covered in blood, and the body thumped to the floor.
The kids stared at the body, then him, and one of them roared and came at him with a knife. Another rune of force and he was thrown into some seats. Grim rolled his now-healed shoulder, and grinned at the heroes, huddling close. He stepped back, and sang a three-line chant. The floor exploded up in a burst of metal, and three demons appeared. Belial’s horns scraped the roof of the car.
“LUNCH!” Grim yelled, and pointed at the heroes.
Grim got off the train at Croatoa, smiling and feeling so much better, pulling up the collar of his Aegis. The car was covered in blood, the bodies gone. He left bloody footprints behind him for a couple of feet as he headed to the front of the tram. He smiled at the small gathering of heroes who had decided to dare the witches, ghosts, and Fir Bolg of this place.
He always thought of this as home.
Words: 972
Inspiration: If PDA is truly cancelled.
Music: We Can Work It Out – the Beatles