9/20/22 The Pole Fighter

 The Pole Fighter

Walking through the dark hallway, hands grasped tightly on her dual metal fighting poles, she approaches a man guarding a room.

“I’m expected,” she says deadpan to the guard. He nods and opens the door for her to enter then shuts it behind her once she has fully entered the room.

“So you actually showed up,” says a fancily dressed man sitting in the corner of the room.

“You called,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

“That I did,” he says with an eccentric tone, “You see, I’ve heard alot about you and these deadly poles of yours and I just had to see them for myself.”

The woman sighs and begins to pace around the room and wave her poles around as she speaks, “You know…every time someone has said that to me, it has never ended well for them.”

“Yes I’ve heard about the many enemies you have made, people scared of you being turned on them, that they’d like to just take you out themselves, and yet,” he clasps his hands together, “They are all still alive, aren’t they.”

“An assassin is still capable of mercy.”

“Which only fascinates me more. Why do so many people hire you to kill their foe’s if you can’t even take out your own enemies?”

“I think the better question is how I haven’t been killed yet, having so many enemies.”

“Well that’s an easy one, no one has had guts to actually take you out, but I am not like them. You play with these toys and call yourself a fighter, allow me to show you what a real sword can do,” the man says as he leans slightly to the left, revealing a sheathed sword on his hip.

Before he can even reach for his weapon, she lunges towards him, her right pole pressing deeply into his stomach causing him great discomfort. “I would think twice before threatening me, or else I may not show you the same kindness I have shown the others.” She pulls her pole back and turns her back to him.

“Like you could actually kill me with those little dull sticks,” he says mockingly.

She hears the slight sound of metal as he starts to pull his sword out of its sheath. Quickly she turns, swinging her right arm and knocking the sword out of his hand, her left hand delivering a brutal hit to his ribs. He falls to his knees in pain as she returns the right pole to his stomach, pushing it upwards, forcing the man to look at her.

“Yes, I believe I could,” she spits out harshly. Giving a strong jab to the stomach with her left pole, she pulls her right one back and smacks him square on the side of his head, knocking him out instantly. 

She throws one pole to the ground and grasps the remaining one at each end. Kneeling over the man, she holds the pole across his neck, “I could kill him, right now, one good push and he would die.”

“No,” her conscience tells her, “Let him be another lesson as to why you are so feared.”

“He would be a lesson if he was dead,” she says, annoyed with the voice in her head.

“Kill him when he comes after you,” the voice says.

“Like he’ll ever do that,” she says with a small chuckle. She retrieves her second pole and holds both in her hands as she walks out the door. The guard seems stunned, expecting she would not be walking out of there alive. She gives a small wave of her pole as she exits the building.


The End

9/20/22

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

9/21/22 Inhabitants of the Forest

  Inhabitants of the Forest The giant moose watched with its tiny human in the luscious green forest as the moon crumbled. A hand reached out in the sky and had taken hold of the moon. Harshly it squeezed, crushing the moon into tiny pieces.  The moose and the man did not move, they simply stood, staring at the whimsical sight in front of them. A slight breeze blew, waving the man’s cloak and rustling the moose's fur as the moon was crushed in the sky. The silent pair turned away and continued to walk through the woods. The moon was gone now, that was it, time to continue with life. Nothing would change for them, day and night would still come.  The forest grew a bit darker that day, no longer illuminated by the reflection of the sun. It was ok, the giant moose and little man just walked through the endless forest as they had always done; never staying in one place for too long.  This place was their home, they kept the forest as no one else would and no on...
Read more

7/24/22 Wiggly Fingers

Wiggly Fingers “Wiggly fingers, wiggly fingers, oh why won’t my fingers stop wiggling?” she breathed out. Her muscles had little minds of their own and were sending her fingers into overdrive. Wiggling back and forth, like typing on a thousand little keys in the air, her fingers would not stop. “Why won’t they stop,” she anxiously asked herself. From tapping on walls, to tables, to nothing, her fingers just kept going. Sometimes bending, sometimes straight, they couldn’t decide. Tight but still moving, curling in rhythmic ways, her hands were out of control. “Is panic causing my fingers to wiggle, or are the wiggling fingers causing the panic?” she wondered aloud. She paced around, her fingers still going. She couldn’t hold still, her moving fingers made her restless, and now her whole body wanted to be on the move. She had more control of the rest of herself, but her fingers were still off like lightning. “STOP!” she yelled, pressing her hands flat against a wall. No tapping occ...
Read more

2/27/22 Wasted Confidence

  Wasted Confidence “Hey! Leave him alone!” you shout down the street. You begin to walk faster, as you watch a poor man getting beat up by three men in dark hoodies. You run up to one of the hooded men and pry him away from the man laying on the ground. “Walk on, this ain’t none of your business,” the man says, shoving you away. “You are beating up an innocent man, I’m not just going to ignore that, so yes, it is my business,” you reply confidently. The men pause their torture of the man on the ground and begin to surround you. “I said, walk on.” You pull out a small pistol that you carry around at all times, “And I said, leave him alone.” The men back away as you point your gun towards them. You slowly walk towards the man on the ground and help him up, keeping your gun aimed at the hooded men. You sling the wounded man’s arm around your shoulder and begin backing away. The hooded men silently stare at you as you and the wounded man walk away. After you have created a g...
Read more