Chapter 10: Break their legs

Morning.

Or...

Something close enough to morning.

The pub was silent.

Empty bottles covered nearly every table.

One old man was still asleep face-first in a bowl of peanuts.

Humans have weird sleeping habits, I usually use a pillow.

Lulith was asleep.

Completely unconscious.

"...Master..."

"...Please don't neuter..."

"...me..."

She rolled over.

"...I don't want to not have balls..."

Lulith is a woman, she doesn't have them anyway so her fears are unfounded.

Stefan floated beside her.

Also asleep.

Which was strange.

Nobody knew bubbles could sleep.

"..."

His tiny bubble hands twitched.

Then immediately resumed snoring.

Nobody knew bubbles could snore either, apart from me, I am all knowing.

Luna looked between them.

She nodded proudly.

"Lazy bums can't even handle a few bottles of whisky."

One by one...

She picked them up.

Stefan weighed almost nothing.

Lulith...

Required considerably more effort.

"Hnnng..."

Luna somehow managed to drag her upstairs.

Nobody knew how.

Or why for that matter since she could have just used magic.

Anastasia watched from behind the bar.

"..."

"...Should I help?"

Luna puffed out her cheeks.

"I am..."

"...Very strong."

She wasn't.

But since weird people usually do equally weird things she pushed on.

Eventually...

Both of them were lying on Anastasia's bed.

Luna carefully pulled the blanket over them.

Straightened Stefan's mustache.

Adjusted Lulith's pillow.

Placed a glass of water beside each of them, in such a way that if either moved a single micrometer the glasses would fall and spill on them

She then gave them both a good night kiss.

Lulith would slowly have rosy cheeks.

"...at least buy me dinner first..."

Luna did buy Lulith dinner.

She looked over her work.

"..."

"...Perfect."

She gave two satisfied nods.

"Good night companions."

Even though it was morning.

Then quietly left the room. 

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Lulith mumbled in her sleep.

"...Stop..."

"...it's to soon..."

"...I can't eat that much..."

Downstairs...

Luna was halfway through eating somebody else's breakfast.

She had no idea whose it was.

Neither did the owner.

"Princess."

Anastasia approached carefully.

"We..."

"...Need to talk."

"Huh?"

"...Westwood."

"Huh?"

"...The city."

"Huh?"

"...People are suffering."

"Huh?"

"...The authorities..."

"Huh?"

"...The gangs..."

"Huh?"

"...The corruption..."

"Huh?"

"..."

Anastasia took a deep breath.

"...Could you..."

"...Help us?"

Luna blinked.

"..."

"...With what?"

Five minutes later...

Anastasia had decided words weren't working.

So...

She took Luna outside.

An old man sat beside the road.

Tiny wooden sculptures covered a blanket before him.

Birds.

Cats.

Little dragons.

Each had clearly been carved by hand.

An old police officer kicked one across the pavement.

"...Permit?"

The old man lowered his head.

"...I..."

"...I can't afford one."

Another officer laughed.

"Then you can't sell here."

One grabbed the blanket.

Another overturned the little display.

Months of work scattered across the street.

The old man desperately crawled after them.

"Please..."

"...Don't..."

One officer shoved him to the ground.

Anastasia quietly pointed.

"...This."

Luna watched silently.

"..."

"..."

"..."

She tilted her head.

"..."

"...Why doesn't he just break their legs?"

Anastasia blinked.

"..."

"...Because they're the police."

"Oh."

Luna nodded.

"...What's a police?"

Badump.

"..."

"...I'll do it then."

She looked around.

Her eyes landed on...

A stop sign.

"..."

"...HEHE."

She grabbed the metal pole.

Pulled once.

CRRRRACK.

Concrete exploded.

The entire sign came free.

At exactly the same moment...

A luxury black sedan drove past.

The driver looked up.

"..."

"...Is she carrying a stop sign?"

He became distracted.

The car mounted the curb.

CRASH.

Straight into a streetlight.

Inside...

Several bags of white powder burst open.

The passengers began screaming.

Luna blinked.

"..."

"...Oops, should have listened to the sign."

Then...

She threw the stop sign.

Like a spear.

WHOOOOSH.

CRACK!

CRACK!

Two officers' legs bent in directions legs weren't designed to bend.

Both collapsed instantly.

The third knocked himself out before it even reached him.

The stop sign continued flying.

Embedding itself neatly into the wall behind them.

Still reading:

STOP

"..."

"...What in Christ?!"

Anastasia muttered.

The old man quietly picked up one of his wooden birds.

"..."

"...Thank you..."

Luna smiled.

"No problem."

"I like birds."

"They taste nice"

The old man wasn't entirely sure how those two thoughts were connected.

Meanwhile inside the pub...

One man quietly watched everything unfold through the window.

He wore a cheap fake beard.

A ridiculous long brown wig.

Round glasses.

Nobody had paid him any attention.

Mostly because most people wear fake beards.

He slowly lowered his pint.

"..."

"...Interesting."

The stop sign was still vibrating where it had embedded itself into the wall.

The police officers screamed somewhere outside.

The old man was happily gathering up his sculptures.

The mysterious man reached into his coat.

Not for a weapon.

A walkie-talkie.

He pressed the button.

Static crackled.

"...Bravo Six..."

A pause.

"...Going dark."

He let go.

The radio hissed one final time before falling silent.

"..."

"...Shame."

He sighed.

"I rather liked this disguise."

He stood.

The fake beard came off.

The wig followed.

Then the glasses.

Underneath...

A young man.

Broad shoulders.

Completely bald.

A thick moustache that looked almost aggressively well-maintained.

He reached beneath his long coat.

Pulled out...

An AK-47.

Then...

Another AK-47.

"..."

"...Compensation claims are going to be dreadful, not that any insurance company would insure anyone in this town."

Outside...

Luna was helping the old man gather his sculptures.

"This one's a duck."

"It..."

The old man blinked.

"...It's supposed to be a dragon."

Luna looked at it again.

"..."

"...Flying duck."

"..."

"...Ducks can already fly child."

The pub doors exploded open.

BANG!!

The mysterious man stepped outside.

Both rifles already raised.

Without warning...

He opened fire.

RATATATATATATATATA!!

Bullets tore through the street.

Windows shattered.

Flowerpots exploded.

The old man screamed.

Anastasia instinctively ducked behind a barrel.

Luna looked up.

"..."

"...Oh."

"War crime sticks."

The bullets...

Stopped.

Only inches from Luna's face.

The air itself had become...

Thick.

Like honey.

Each bullet hung motionless.

Spinning gently.

Luna reached out.

Poked one.

"..."

"...Neat."

She smiled.

Then flicked her wrist.

The air reversed.

Every bullet turned around.

RATATATATATATATATA!!

The mysterious man's eyes widened.

"...WHAT?!"

He threw himself backwards.

The bullets ripped through the pub instead.

Tables exploded.

Chairs became splinters.

Glasses shattered.

Someone's lunch ceased to exist.

The fireplace collapsed.

Silence.

Anastasia slowly stood.

She looked inside.

Half her pub...

Was gone.

"..."

She stared blankly.

"..."

"...My pub..."

The man rolled behind a heavy steel table.

He breathed heavily.

"...Monster..."

He slammed fresh magazines into both rifles.

CLICK.

CLICK.

"...Let's try that again."

He kicked a table upwards.

Using it as moving cover.

Then sprang around it.

Both rifles blazing.

"...DIE!"

Luna...

Wasn't there.

He blinked.

"..."

"...Huh?"

A tiny voice came from directly behind him.

"...Boo."

He spun.

Immediately firing.

RATATATATATATATATA!!

Nothing.

Empty air.

"..."

"...Where..."

"...You looking for me?"

He whipped around again.

Luna stood behind him.

Hands behind her back.

Smiling.

She tilted her head.

"..."

"...You're kinda slow for a big strong man."

The man's eye twitched.

"...Impossible..."

He fired again.

Luna wasn't there.

Again.

"..."

"..."

Sweat rolled down his forehead.

"...Where are you?!"

Luna crouched beside him.

"Oh."

She pointed.

"You dropped something."

"...What?"

He instinctively looked down.

Hanging from his belt...

A grenade.

Luna happily pulled the pin.

"..."

"...There."

She carefully tucked it back into his pocket.

"...Safe keeping."

"..."

"...Wait."

His eyes slowly widened.

"...WAIT—"

Luna grabbed him by the collar.

"...Yeet."

She threw him straight through the pub window using the power of God and Autism.

CRAAAAASH!!

He flew across the street.

Landed directly on top of a police cruiser.

One second...

Two...

Three...

KABOOOOOOOM!!

The explosion echoed through Westwood.

A fireball climbed into the sky.

The nearby windows shattered.

Several pigeons packed their bags and left the city, something they should have done decades ago.

Luna clapped happily.

"Ooooo!"

"Fireworks!"

She pointed at the burning police car.

"I like this."

Anastasia looked at the flaming wreck.

Then at Luna.

Then back at the wreck.

"..."

"...Yeah well, I don't think this was a good idea."

The smoke slowly began to clear.

A silhouette...

Sat still atop the wreckage.

Motionless.

Burning.

Luna blinked.

"..."

"...He's alive."

"...He's cheating ref, do something about him!"

The figure slowly raised a hand.

Blue mana flowed beneath his charred skin.

His flesh began repairing itself.

Burns faded.

Blisters disappeared.

Fresh skin replaced ruined skin.

Within moments...

He looked almost unharmed.

Well...

Except for his clothes.

Those were beyond saving.

Luna pointed.

"..."

"...Your moustache survived, not as good as Stefans but you get a pass from me."

The man slowly opened his eyes.

His eyes locked onto Luna.

They carried enough hatred to boil an ocean.

Luna smiled.

"I like your face now."

"..."

"...Handsome, young and full of rage."

The man ignored her.

Instead...

He sat cross-legged.

Both hands resting on his knees.

His breathing slowed.

Mana began flowing through his body.

Healing the remaining internal injuries.

"..."

"...You little monster..."

Luna crouched nearby.

Watching with fascination.

"Ooooo..."

"You're glowing."

She leaned closer.

"So that's what mana circulation looks like."

She reached out.

Poked his shoulder.

"...Squishy, maybe time to go to the gym fella."

The man refused to react.

Even blinking required concentration.

Interrupting the circulation now...

Could kill him.

Luna noticed something shiny beside his boot.

"Hm?"

She picked it up.

A bronze badge.

Two crossed wands.

A mountain.

Words engraved underneath.

She slowly sounded them out.

Or...

At least pretended to.

She couldn't actually read.

"..."

"...Bar..."

"...Bart..."

She frowned.

"..."

"...Too many letters."

She simply held it toward Anastasia.

"Alcohol giver."

"Read."

Anastasia glanced down.

"..."

"...Bartholomew Maridovich."

Silence.

Luna stared at the assassin.

Then...

Burst into laughter.

"Pfft!"

"Barf!"

She pointed at him.

"Your name is Barf!"

She laughed even harder.

"..."

"...Imagine being called Barf!"

Bartholomew's left eye twitched.

Very slightly.

His mana nearly flowed backwards.

Luna looked around.

"Oh!"

She reached into a nearby drawer that had been blown out of the pub.

"...Marker."

Permanent marker.

Excellent.

She looked back at Bartholomew.

Then at the pen.

Then back again.

"..."

"...Since you aren't saying no..."

Anastasia quietly covered her face.

"..."

"...Poor man."

Five minutes later...

Bartholomew remained perfectly still.

His mana continued circulating.

Meanwhile...

His face now had a curly moustache.

On top of...

His existing moustache.

His forehead read:

VERY STINKY

Someone had drawn little fish swimming across his bald head.

On his cheek...

A surprisingly accurate portrait of Stefan.

On the back of his jacket...

In enormous letters...

BARF

Luna admired her masterpiece.

"..."

"...Beautiful."

It was in fact beautiful.

Her eyelids slowly drooped.

She yawned.

"..."

"...Sleepy."

Without another thought...

She climbed onto Bartholomew's lap.

Curled into a ball.

And immediately fell asleep.

"...Zzz..."

Bartholomew...

Could do nothing.

His veins burned as mana continued circulating.

If he moved now...

The flow would reverse.

His magic would collapse.

He simply stared ahead.

His eye twitched again.

Anastasia sighed.

"..."

"...This city gets stranger every hour."

She carefully picked Luna up.

The little witch instinctively hugged the teddy bear Anastasia had tucked under one arm.

Still asleep.

"...Fish..."

"...Franky..."

"...Stefan cheats at poker..."

Anastasia smiled despite herself.

"...Goodnight, Princess."

She carried Luna upstairs.

Tucked her into bed.

Placed the teddy bear beside her.

Pulled the blanket up to her shoulders.

Then quietly closed the door.

Downstairs...

Anastasia opened the fridge.

Took out a bottle of beer.

Popped the cap off.

Took one long drink.

"..."

"...Right."

She walked outside.

Bartholomew was still sitting perfectly still.

Glowering.

Anastasia smiled politely.

"...Mr. Bartholomew."

"...Me and you..."

"...Are going to have a little chat."

She swung the bottle.

THUNK.

It shattered over his head.

His concentration broke instantly.

Mana surged wildly through his veins.

Blood sprayed from his mouth.

His eyes rolled back.

He collapsed.

Anastasia immediately crouched beside him.

One hand pressed against his chest.

Mana flowed into his body.

Suppressing the backlash.

"...Don't die."

"...Just..."

"...Never use mana again."

She smiled pleasantly.

She managed to suppress his mana enough to keep him alive

"...Much better."

She grabbed him by the ankles.

And started dragging him toward the pub.

Thunk.

His head bounced down the first step.

Thunk.

The second.

Thunk.

The third.

"..."

"...Oops."

She didn't stop.

Deep beneath the pub...

A hidden stone cellar waited.

Ancient.

Cold.

Iron chains lined the walls.

In the centre...

A thick stone pillar.

Branded with a crimson star.

She chained Bartholomew tightly to it.

Leaning down beside his ear.

Her cheerful smile never changed.

"When our guests wake up..."

"...We'll have ourselves a lovely conversation."

She tightened the final shackle.

"And if you make even the slightest squeak..."

She gently patted his shoulder.

"...I'll sell your soul to a True Devil."

Bartholomew...

For the first time that day...

Actually felt fear.

Upstairs...

Everyone slept peacefully.

Downstairs...

Franky sat proudly on a table.

A tiny cube of cheese rested beside him.

He had somehow copied Bartholomew's meditation pose perfectly.

Little paws resting on his knees.

Eyes tightly closed.

"..."

"...Squeak..."

Nothing happened.

He opened one eye.

Looked around.

Then closed it again.

"..."

"...Squeak."

He was absolutely convinced...

He had just reached enlightenment and in one step reached the pinnacle of magic...

...If this was true, who knows, rats are confusing creatures.