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The Bystander

@blascap

The cave where the band of thrall rustlers had holed up was certainly a prime spot, tucked way back in a cliff crevice with narrow tunnels that demanded only thin explorers walking sideways, but then they’d had the bright idea to paint around the entrance with exaggerated fanged faces and badly misspelled graffiti declaring doom to all who entered. Practically begging for someone to waltz right in and see how tough the bandits truly were.

Which, judging by the amount of scuffling and screaming that resonated down the cave passages to the “holding room” where the cages sat, had apparently just happened. The two guards on duty looked up from their dice game and exchanged be-goggled glances in alarm, unsure if they should act or continue keeping an eye on their single piece of merchandise. They weren’t uncertain for long.

With perfect dramatic timing, the intruder burst through the doorway and in a blur of dusty leathers, pounced on the scag who’d stood up in surprise. There was more shouting, and a few hard thwacks since the stranger was using a long-barrelled rifle the wrong way ‘round, with the heavy wooden stock as a bludgeon. The second guard circled the fight cautiously, eyes on the nail-studded bat leaning against an empty cage. His companion landed a good sock to the gut on the skinny intruder, then finally fell when the rifle-butt slammed full force into his face with a crunch of cartilage and a crackle of goggle-lenses shattering.

“Ya think yer so tough, Raggedy Man? Yer just lucky!” snarled the last remaining bandit, hefting the bat with an old world slugger’s stance. The stranger flipped the rifle around, cocked the trigger, and fired. Down he went.

“Tough and lucky,” corrected the stranger, in a voice that was awfully high-pitched for a Raggedy Man, and then they pulled the rifle’s strap across their shoulders and knelt by the nearest carcass. Looked more like a Raggedy Woman, since they shrugged off that too-big jacket and underneath was curvature generally accepted as female-looking. The stranger pulled a shiv from one boot (half a pair of scissors with a rag tied around the handle end) and was busy for a couple minutes opening up the dead man’s belly, sorting through his gutropes, and had just started to pull out the dark quivering mass of his liver before they (or she?) finally realized one of the thrall cages was occupied.

They, or she, stared at Blas Cap in awkward silence. Well, half at Blas Cap. The stranger had one ordinary enough eye that looked straight ahead, but the other was... off. Badly off, two irises stuck together with one nearly rolled up in her head and the other pitched too far downwards to look where the other side was looking.

“Well if this isn’t my lucky day.” The mutant woman sighed, dropped the meat she was holding back into the corpse’s gut cavity, and rolled her head to the side to wipe some blood from her cheek on the bandanna around her neck.

#gore alert #i can't NOT write huge starters i just don't know how to stop myself from doing 6 paragraphs #should i tag this thread with your main blog #or with blas cap's since i know this is a sideblog