Mini-Grand 5108 [simul_complete]

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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“What kind of deal are we talking about here?” Arckal asked suspiciously, his hand ready to go for a weapon if it proved necessary. Mister Saturday regarded the stuntman for a moment, his eyes briefly flickering over to Reuben, Jetsam, Ywie and the scientists that flanked them.

“Be nice if we could get a little privacy roun’ here.” Saturday replied. He strode a little way away from the group and irritably Arckal followed him. Reuben awkwardly trailed a couple of steps behind them; his face betrayed a mixture of sadness and apprehension. “I guess this is the best that we’re gonna get,” he shot Reuben a glance, “fine.”

“This deal?” Arckal asked. “What are we talking about? A contest of some kind, with his life upon the line?”

“Naw,” Saturday replied dismissively, “nothin’ that dramatic.” He leaned back against the railing.

“Then what?” Arckal asked impatiently. He didn’t like this. They had been so close to getting out of here, out of this goddamned battle that he had almost been able to taste it, and then this guy showed up. The fact that he was so laid back, so relaxed when Arckal was used to high adrenaline confrontations was not helping his mood.

“You see the thing is, all your scientist friends back there,” Saturday waved his cane in their general direction, “they should all be dead. And not in some weird metaphysical ‘your presence altered their fates and kept them alive when they shoulda died’ sense of the phrase. These people have experienced death… and have somehow undied. I don’t know, I don’t much care neither. The point is that death don’t look kindly on those that ought be dead walking around.” Arckal’s hand went to grab a weapon, but quick as a flash Mister Saturday was standing in front of him, his cane lodged between his hand and the cape. “Come now Arckal, least hear me out.” Reluctantly Arckal withdrew his hand; he folded his arms and frowned.

“Well?” He asked.

“Well, I’m offerin’ you the deal of a lifetime.” Saturday replied snappily. “For a limited time only, the scientists of Neuge Research Station, Sir Franklin Crow and even Azazel Deathbringer (and he's the kind of guy I really oughta do somethin' about even if he hadn't just been eaten by a blob) they all go free with no repercussions. I’ll see to it they live out the rest of their natural lifespan as though bein’ eaten by a sentient waste disposal system never even happened.” Arckal glanced back at Reuben.

“And Reuben?” He asked warily.

“Reuben’s soul is mine.” Saturday replied. “’S a good deal if I do say so myself. You’d do well to take it.”

“What makes Reuben so special?” Arckal asked.

“Why’s it matter to you?” Saturday asked. “You don’t know this kid. He ain’t your friend, he ain’t your lover. He’s some kid you were sent here to kill. He don’t mean nothin’ to you, and if he did well that’d be a very sorry state of affairs.” He turned to Reuben. “No offense Winston, but you’re a mess; nothin’ but a whinging whining little brat pining that he misses his oppressive regime, what a crock-”

“And if I refuse?” Arckal interrupted. “If I tell you you can stick your deal where the sun don’t shine?”

“Then we foyt I guess.” Saturday replied. “You’d like that I know. You’re all about foyting. This time though you’d be fighting death itself. I don’t think that’s a battle you can win.” Arckal and Saturday regarded one another critically. “A battle you probably can’t win at any rate. Do you really feel confident enough to put all of their lives on the line?” He gestured once again to the nervous crowd of scientists who were excitedly chattering away about recent experiences. Some had even started studying Azazel, attempting to isolate that which gave him his immortality. Arckal stared at the fancily dressed man before him, for once struck with indecision. Life was normally so simple for him. Fight the bad guys save the day. This was different and he didn’t know what to do.

“Okay.” Reuben said. Arckal turned and stared at the kid.

“What?!” he exclaimed. “You can’t…”

“It’s okay.” Reuben said. Though he had been excited at the prospect of returning home to his family, to the life he had before this battle began, Reuben knew it was a hopeless fantasy. It wasn’t that he’d known that this was going to happen, it wasn’t even as though he’d expected something to happen to prevent him from going home. It was the thought of arriving back home, to see the people he loved, and to try to speak to them with this awful language. He’d be marked as a speechcriminal. He’d be hunted down and taken away to the Ministry of Love, as though he was some traitor, as though he was someone who had no love for Big Brother. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t go home and he couldn’t live like this. Mister Saturday’s arrival, it was almost like a blessing. “Thank you Sunglow. Make sure everyone gets home okay.”

Arckal didn’t say anything. He saw the bleak acceptance in Reuben’s eyes and he knew that he was not going to be dissuaded. That look between the two of them said it all. He clapped a hand upon Reuben’s shoulder and wordlessly they parted. He went back to the scientists, said a few words and then headed off through the door that Saturday had entered through with the group in tow. Reuben and Saturday stood and watched as the group slowly disappeared through the door. When the last one had gone Saturday fished a pistol from his belt.

“You know Reuben, you don’t seem like much of a kid any more.” Saturday said thoughtfully. “A little late but better than nothin’ I guess.” He clicked the safety off. “Any last words?”

“I feel…” Reuben hesitated. “Plusdoublegood…? I think that’s how you say it.”

There was a couple of seconds of silence and then a thunderous bang.