by Derek Slaton
Midget with a Chainsaw
Derek Slaton
© 2018
CHAPTER ONE
When Kyran walked into the Randy Badger dressed in a fancy overcoat with his slicked back hair, he knew that dingy bar was the place he’d been looking for. A lilting county twang floated from the juke box, mixing with the haze of cigarette smoke floating in the stale air. The patrons were sparse, a few playing cards in the corner, others staring at him from a booth off to the side, but none at the bar.
The juiced up bouncer by the door looked disappointed at the tall rich man with the jet black hair, looking like he was ready for some rowdy customers to knock about. Kyran gave him the smallest of smirks; if the roided up idiot only knew what the well dressed man was capable of.
The bartender pretended to look nonchalant with a few swipes of his cloth on the counter; but his wide curious eyes gave him away. He wasn’t used to seeing guys like this wandering around in this dead town.
“What’ll it be, mister?” He asked, leaning on one hand and cocking his head. He looked like he’d been around the block a few times, but that was par for the course in a town like this.
“I will take a double of your finest twenty five year old scotch. Neat.” Kyran raised his chin as he reached the bar, eyebrows raising at the sly grin emerging on the bartender’s face.
“Buddy, I don’t know where you think you are, but we ain’t in the big city,” he drawled, spreading his arms. “We’re in the middle of fracking country. Now look, if you want some kickass whiskey, I can get you something that’ll fuck you up so bad you’ll wake up in the morning two towns over, missing your pants.”
Kyran slid onto one of the barstools with unusual grace for his tall frame. “I accept,” he said simply, and the bartender shot him a bewildered gaze. It was a weird way to answer his diatribe, but he reached under the bar for the unmarked bottle there.
Was serving homemade whiskey illegal in a licensed establishment? Yes. Did it matter in this town, where it was the sheriff’s own brother that made the swill in his basement? Nope. However, the flask that the newcomer had produced that was dribbling a thick red liquid into his glass… that was definitely not allowed.
“Whoa, whoa, buddy, you can’t be doing that,” the bartender leaned forward, as if he were letting Kyran in on a secret. “We might be in the middle of nowhere, but we still have rules, yeah?”
The man’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he produced his leather wallet with a flourish, and slipped a fifty dollar bill onto the counter. He laid a finger on it and slid it towards the working man, a ghost of a smile on his face.
“And rule number one is that for fifty bucks, you can do whatever you damn well please,” the bartender grinned toothily at him.
“Well, within some reason,” a sultry female voice cut in, and Kyran turned to see a red haired bombshell glide up to the bar. She hopped up onto the stool next to him, and looked up at him with bright green eyes. He raked his eyes over the tight jeans and casual baby blue blouse that was just sheer enough to show the line of a tank top underneath. She smelled like jasmine and fresh cut grass with an underlying musk that was all woman, and it took all of his willpower not to consume her right there.
“You mean that fifty dollars is not enough for me to have my way with you?” His voice was a low husk, and her full pouty lips twisted into an amused smirk.
“All you’re going to be able to do with that is buy me a drink and take pleasure in watching me walk back to my table,” she replied, and he immediately snapped his fingers at the bartender. The man behind the counter obliged easily, having pegged this rich guy as a proverbial cash cow. The more fifties this guy dropped the better, and if it was at the expense of the hot redhead who’d been steaming up the windows in the corner, then so be it.
“Well, thank you darlin’.” The woman inclined her head as she watched her drink being made. “So, what’s your story? You look a little overdressed for this blue collar crowd.”
“I am Kyran, and I have traveled a great distance to look for a very special person,” he replied, words dripping from his lips like silk as he extended his hand to her.
“Traveling the world and looking for love?” She raised an eyebrow as she shook his offered hand. “Aw, are you one of those hopeless romantic types?”
“Something like that,” Kyran replied wryly, disappointed when the warm flesh of her palm left his. Her hand was soft in that way that only a woman’s could be. It looked delicate but he could feel power there, a strength thrumming just beneath the surface that intrigued him immensely.
“Well, I wish you the best of luck, although I gotta say, you aren’t going to find too many hopeless romantics in this town,” she said as she grabbed her drink from the counter. She stood up from the barstool and chuckled. “Just plain hopeless? Oh yeah, this town is packed with those. Well, it used to be before the wells got shut down and most everybody left. Pretty sure a quarter of the town is in this room at the moment.” She motioned to the smattering of patrons behind her with a shrug. It was a sad state of affairs, this town.
Kyran swirled his cocktail beneath his nose, inhaling the tantalizing scent and then taking a sip, keeping his eyes locked on the woman’s slender throat. “I do appreciate your candor…” he trailed off, realizing that he’d never gotten her name even though he’d offered his.
“Rose,” she supplied, and he smiled. His favorite flower. He enjoyed peeling back the layers, each satin petal revealing another smoother one beneath.
“Rose, yes,” he continued, “like I said, I do greatly appreciate your candor. It is refreshing in this day and age.” It was refreshing in any day and age, really, but he wasn’t about to get into that with her. He had always been impressed with a woman that would tell it like it is. Especially one with such luscious hips.
“I guess it is, isn’t it?” She sighed and shrugged again, raising her glass to him. “Well, you have a good evening, Kyran. And enjoy my walk back.” She winked at him and turned, and he lowered his gaze to her perfectly heart shaped ass as she did.
“Rose.” The name left his lips before he could control it, and she turned her big doe eyes back on him. They were curious, and hid a sharpness beneath that he knew he shouldn’t take for granted. There was no naiveté in that stare, though a man less calculating might think so. Kyran, however, was very calculating.
“Yeah, hon?” She drawled the question, leaning a little to the side, her free hand tracing the waistband of her jeans before resting there.
“Seeing as how you are confident I am not going to find who I am looking for in this town, I was wondering if you would care to join me for a while,” he said with an impish smile. “I’ve spent the last week visiting nearby towns and coming up empty. It has been a long and lonely road, and I could use some company.” His words didn’t come out sounding as pathetic as he’d thought they would, and he saw no pity in her gaze. Her full lips curled up into a sly little smile.
“You want company, huh?” Rose asked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hm. A few questions before I agree.”
He nodded, interested to hear what this vixen’s stipulations were. He didn’t think they would be too outrageous. And he couldn’t help but be more and more impressed by her forwardness. This woman definitely had an eye out for her own safety and comfort.
“You gonna buy the drinks?” She held up a finger to signify her first question.
“Just as a gentleman should,” he replied.
“And you aren’t gonna try to show me your dick later?” She raised an eyebrow to go with her second finger.
“Those types of appearances are by request only,” he responded easily, and she nodded.
“You don’t bite, do
you?” She asked, and he grinned wickedly. “I’m just messing with you.” She laughed, and slid back up onto the barstool. “Barkeep, another round for my buddy and me!” She crossed her legs and leaned on the counter, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger playfully.
“Let us make life easy,” Kyran said and slid a hundred dollar bill across the counter. “Just leave us the bottle if you wouldn’t mind.” There was nothing money couldn’t procure in this world.
“Oh, thanks, mister,” the bartender replied, and left the bottle in between their two glasses. In addition to making their lives easier, it made his job much easier; and more lucrative, to be sure.
“So tell me, Kyran, where’re you from?” Rose asked as she poured their drinks with practiced ease. He wondered if she’d been a bartender in her life, or perhaps she was just an alcoholic. Though he didn’t think so. If she were, she’d likely have been sloppy at this point in the night. No, this woman carried herself with poise despite her blunt nature.
“I will be honest, I have spent so much time traveling and visited so many places that my beginnings are but a faded memory.” He swirled the amber liquid in his glass wistfully.
“Oh, come on now, don’t bullshit me,” she scoffed. “You have to know where you’re from. I mean unless you hit your head and got a case of amnesia.”
“Best I can do is tell you that it is someplace in eastern Europe,” he replied, and downed the drink in one fell swoop. “With so many wars over the years I am not even sure the village still exists. If it does, it would be a far cry from what it was when I entered this life.”
“Now now, you can’t be that old,” Rose furrowed her brow with a shy smile. “You don’t look a day over forty.” That shyness didn’t reach her eyes, however, and he didn’t miss the slight inflection on the number ‘forty’. He didn’t want to get too excited; he was quite sure she was playing with him, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure. And there was no reason to get invested in a woman that wasn’t one hundred percent.
“That’s very kind of you to say, Rose,” Kyran replied, chuckling as he produced his flask to mix another drink. “But I assure you, I’m older than I appear.”
“Well don’t you worry hon.” She winked and ignored the strange goo that he was adding to his whiskey. “I like older men.”
“Perhaps, then, my long search could be at an end.” He lowered his eyes to her plump lips and she threw her head back in a laugh.
“Yeah, gonna need a few more drinks before then,” she promised him, and he simply refilled her glass in response.
“My pleasure,” he told her with a grin.
By the time the bottle was empty, the bar was as well. The bouncer stood at the door, arms crossed, watching the clock tick down in hopes that he’d get to throw these two out. At least he’d throw the fancy dressed guy out. The redhead, he’d make sure to get a good feel for her first.
Unfortunately for him, Kyran led Rose out the door with one minute to spare and another hundred dollar bill on the counter. She stumbled a little over the threshold, and he grasped her elbow tightly to keep her from totally bowling over.
She grasped his bicep with a giggle, and threw her free arm around his neck. Once she was back firmly on her feet, he took her small waist in his hands and gently pushed her away from him.
“That was quite an enjoyable evening, Rose,” he offered politely. This was the sloppiness that he’d been worried about. But the woman beneath the booze was everything he wanted, everything he needed, he could smell it on her. He salivated at the very thought, and let her stumble ahead of him.
“Aw come on, hon, the night is still young!” she proclaimed, spreading her arms and spinning around.
“I’m afraid our relationship must change at this time,” Kyran said, face betraying no expression. He dropped his car keys on the asphalt and Rose swaggered a few steps towards his car.
“You sure you’re okay to drive? My place isn’t too far, we could just walk,” she said as she reached out the lean on the car, sliding something long and sharp from inside her loose fitting blouse. The glazed look in her eyes slipped away as she straightened her shoulders and whipped around. “Or you can just lay down right here!” She’d wanted to catch him in the back as he picked up his keys, but he was gone.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she gripped the stake tightly, standing up perfectly straight now, body at attention. She’d wanted to get him farther away from the bar to ensure the least amount of civilian interference, but when he’d dropped his keys she’d seen her chance. Now she realized she’d been overconfident, and this asshole was a lot older and smarter than she’d originally thought.
She strained her ears for any kind of noise, though she knew that these assholes were as stealthy as they come. She moved like a cat between the cars, senses on high alert. She knew she hadn’t lost him, and that he was likely stalking her now, knowing that she knew what he was. This definitely hadn’t gone according to plan.
Silence.
She looked left, and then right, and then up, just in time to see a gleefully grinning Kyran drop down onto her.
CHAPTER TWO
“So, what do you know about our trainer?” Briggs asked nervously, standing up as straight as he could. He wanted to make a good impression. He hadn’t thought he would end up in training so fast, but he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. He wanted to show the higher ups that they’d made the right choice.
“Heard he’s a real hardass, but he’s trained some of the Agency’s best people,” Franks replied with a shrug as he hopped from foot to foot. He was just happy to get into some hands on learning. He was so sick of sitting at a desk all day. He didn’t belong in the classroom. He belonged out in the field, kicking the crap out of demons. He cracked his knuckles.
They were in one of the Agency warehouses, deep in the belly of weapon research and development. There were workers and scientists standing at tables here and there, clicking and clacking as they put together and took apart various weapons and prototypes.
“At least we’ll be in good hands, right?” Briggs asked, glancing to the other side at Dale, who was leaning casually against the wall, tapping away at his phone. He just wanted to get this over with so they could go to lunch. There was a really cute chick that washed dishes in the mess hall that he was sure he could get to go out with him if he just asked her out enough times.
Robinson rolled his eyes, the tallest of the four. He opened his mouth to berate Briggs for being a pussy, but a loud yelling bark cut him off.
“Alright, line up!” The voice cried, and the four recruits immediately snapped to attention. Straight backs, face forward, hands at their sides. Regardless of personal preference and experience, they were trained military.
“Eyes on me, motherfuckers,” the voice belonged to a four foot tall midget, and the recruits glanced nervously at each other in disbelief. He had broad shoulders and a smooth bald head, and strutted in like he was the biggest man in the building. “You probably think you’re hot shit, that you are standing here because you’re the best of the best.”
He stopped in front of Dale, turned on his heel, and started to pace in front of them. “News flash, needledicks, you are not the best of the best. You’re merely the best we could fucking find. Take a look beside you.” He raised a hand and undulated it back and forth in a tick-tock motion. “The men on either side of you aren’t going to be able to help you out. From this fucking moment forward, you are on your own!”
He stopped short, pointing a finger right up into Briggs’ nervous face. “If you succeed, it’s because you’re strong enough. If you fail, it’s because you’re a pussy, and you should feel ashamed that you wasted my time! And when that happens, I fully expect a fucking apology letter in my mailbox, unless you want me to visit you at home!”
Briggs stifled a whimper, blinking rapidly at the tiny man’s fist so close to his eyeballs. Franks rolled his eyes and the midget reeled on him, having spotted
it in his periphery.
“Did you just roll your fucking eyes at me, maggot?” He cocked his head, eyes menacing, and Franks at least had the intelligence to look nervous.
“I’m... I’m sorry, sir,” he stammered, and his superior waved for him to bend down to his level. Franks hesitated a moment, not realizing what he was supposed to do, until the midget snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground. He flushed with embarrassment, and slowly sank to his knees on the hard concrete floor.
“Something you need to understand, boy,” his superior said, voice low and menacing, but still loud enough for the others to hear. “You ain’t half the man I am. And given that I am already half a man, what the fuck does that say about you?” He turned and waved flippantly at the recruit to stand up, and Franks slowly got back to his feet, face cherry red.
Dale snickered.
“Did I say something to fucking amuse you?” The midget stepped in front of him and the recruit realized in that moment that this little guy definitely had the presence of a bigger man. He exuded power, and if Dale wasn’t careful he wasn’t sure he’d make it to lunch in one piece.
