for anyone who's interested i've just finished tidying up this thing so there might still be a few errors and shit. i'll have a proper look tomorrow.
Monks sang as Joe cut off his servants finger to take his ring. "Than' you, sire." Said his servant as he hurried to the bathroom.
"Monks!" Joe barked, dropping the finger on the floor and eyeing his new ring. "Sing somethin' a little more...I dunno...upbeat?"
The monks hurriedly agreed and began singing a different tune.
"That's more like it!" Joe praised, grabbing a half-peeled banana from the table and flinging it at them, laughing insanely. Suddenly his face dropped, and he apologized. "Sorry lads. Sorry. Shouldn't have done that. You carry on."
Joe leaned back on his chair and banged his armoured boots cross-legged on the table, knocking plates of food off as he did so.
"Hmm. Yeah. It's been a good day." He sighed.
"What is it, Mankrin? Can you not see I am trying to relax?" Joe answered, irritated.
"I'm sorry, sire." The scout replied, bowing his head.
There was a silence between them, filled only with the singing of terrified monks.
"Well? What is it you fucking idiot?" Joe yelled, scowling.
"A man from the desert, he approached our camp saying he was an old friend of yours. He wishes to see you." The scout informed, his head still bowed.
Joe thought for a moment, wondering what the most likely scenario would be if he did let this man in. He dragged his armoured boots off the table when he remembered something.
"I don't know how he got to us alive, he should have been harpooned the second he came within five miles of us. We did ask him but he just said he didn't see anyone." The scout aired, finally lifting his head.
"Put your head back down." Joe snapped quite forcefully, rubbing the stubble on his jawline. The scout dropped his head immediately. "Well," Joe continued, "He would do. I think I know this man. Send him in."
"Yes, sire." The scout replied and sprinted back out of the building.
In a sudden fit of anger, Joe pulled his dagger from it's sheath and threw it at the monks, who scattered. The knife bounced off the stone floor and clattered against the wall. "SING!" Joe roared, seething over their lack of endurance.
"'Ere he is, sire." A guard announced as he walked in.
Joe turned to him and looked at the man he was escorting.
"Ah!" Joe exclaimed, finger in the air and face full of joy. "You're-...hang on..." He said as he stood up, face turning serious. "Can't let these other clowns know of my business. Get out." Joe mumbled, and looked at the guard.
"...Sire." The guard begrudgingly agreed, turning on his heel and shutting the door behind him.
"Well, now that we're alone." Joe said, and then suddenly looked towards the monks. He changed posture, drew his sword and stepped over the table, knocking more food off as he went.
The monks stopped singing and begged for mercy, but they were all things Joe had heard a thousand times before. Hacking and slashing, the old monks soon met their grisly demise in a fit of bloodthirsty violence. Joe sheathed his sword, still dripping blood, and stepped over the bodies towards his guest.
“Now we're alone.” Joe amended.
“You know me” The man said.
“Of course I do! You're Harry! Heinous Harry!” Joe laughed.
“How did I lose my eye?” Harry quizzed.
“Bad slash across the face from a particularly lucky Kareel lieutenant.” Joe answered smugly.
“What about my nose?”
“You cut it off after an argument with your brother.”
“And my fingers?”
“Oh, everyone knows that one! A Dyran Dog bit them clean off while you were taking a short cut through Old Colonel's land. They're his dogs, by the way. He's an inspirational man.”
“He is. He truly is.” Harry agreed, as if reminiscing. “You know me.”
“Yes.” Joe said, trying to gauge his mood.
“Well I know you.” Harry retorted, provocatively.
“Good.” Joe replied.
“D'you wanna hear what I know?” Harry asked, clearly aggravated.
“No.” Joe said simply.
Harry calmed down immediately and just stared at Joe, there was silence between them. Joe broke it with a question.
“Anyway, now that formal pleasantries are out of the way,” He said, sitting down. “How are you doing? Or more importantly, why the fuck are you in my territory?” Joe said with an air of carelessness.
“I've gotta kill ya.” Harry answered, pulling out a jagged, serrated sword and throwing it towards Joe for inspection.
Joe caught it and examined the blade. “Good edge, nice and painful. Who wants me dead?”
“Dunno. Said his name was Franko.” Harry replied in a factual tone. “Gave me four hundred and fifty jots just for taking the job. Says I'll get another five hundred after, and I've gotta take your hands back to him. Bad choice if you ask me. I'd prefer your head, or just your eyes. Something with character.”
“Yeah, same here. About you, I mean.” Joe said, throwing the sword back to Harry.
“Exactly. They could be anyone's hands, but it's only gonna be one persons head. It's principle.” Harry said back to Joe, sheathing the jagged sword.
“I don't disagree with you, Harry.” Joe replied, standing up. “Anyway, are you gonna try and kill me or are we robbing this cunt and splittin' the money, fifty-fifty?” Joe asked.
“Nah, I'm killin' you and cuttin' off your hands.” Harry condemned.
“Fair enough, Hazza. I'll take your false eye afterwards.” Joe informed.
“Good choice.” Harry agreed, and drew his sword.
Joe drew his and sprinted towards Harry, thrusting forwards but missing his gut by inches as he dodged him and counteracted with an armoured elbow to the face, bludgeoning Joe's nose. Joe backed off, and swung his sword in the direction of Harry's head, but Harry always was a good fighter. He ducked fluently as he thrust his jagged blade underneath Joe's attack, piercing Joe's breastplate.
Joe felt the pain and backed off once again, resulting in Harry's sword slipping from his grasp and hanging from Joe's breastplate, connected by twisted barbs of metal on the edge of the blade. Joe pulled Harry's sword from the wound and wielded both.
“I'll keep Viper. I'll hang it up for display on my bedchamber wall. The girls will love it.” Joe snarled, slightly out of breath.
Harry stood there and said nothing, no weapon in hand. Joe ceased his chance and sent both swords crashing down onto Harry's shoulders. But Harry was quicker. The swords never met Harry's armour, because Harry had already pulled out his dagger and plunged it into Joe's neck. By the time Joe realized what was happening, Harry's one eye was staring into Joe's face, watching his life ebb away second by second.
Harry pushed the dagger even deeper into Joe's neck. The slender, thin sliver of metal sliced through fat and flesh, and was eventually engulfed in blood. Joe spluttered, and dropped both swords, Harry holding him up by the dagger blade.
“You see, Joe.” Harry whispered, holding his dagger deep within Joe's bloody neck. “I have no heart. I am a monster. Can you say that with me? Monster.”
Joe tried to say the word 'monster', but only gurgled and salivated more salty blood.
“You can't say it. You fucking freak.” Harry mocked venomously. “Mom always liked me more. Don't you get it? There was no reward for your death. No one wants your hands. You're an embarrassment. Who the fuck would want your filthy, scarred hands? Fucking beggar. I am the stronger species, I've evolved, learned how to survive, you're just a worthless maggot festering in his palace of shit. Fucking scum. I don't even want a trophy.” Harry ranted, and finally let the dagger blade slide from within Joe's neck. Joe slumped to the floor, a crumpled pile of blood-splattered armour, his hair matting in the pool of blood he lay in.
“Sorry, bro.” Harry said, wiping his dagger blade and sheathing it. “Mom always liked me best. You were always meant to be the stepping stone I took to another level of existence. That's all you ever were. A stepping stone.” Harry picked up his sword, Viper, and threw it into the blood surrounding Joe with a splatter. “There. I'm sure the girls will love it, just like you said.” With that Harry left the building, closing the door behind him.
Joe said nothing. Instead his dead eyes stared up into the high ceiling, where a shadow was sat in the roof space, silently watching.
“You keep thinking that, Harry. Mom always said you weren't too bright. You stupid shit. You keep thinking that.”