Kill Da Wabbit!!

[keire_ke]

I so need this out of my system. *growls* I'm beginning to think a crusade against plot bunnies wouldn't be such a bad thing. *le sigh* Rather ficletish, I don't expect more in terms of plot. Some ficlets, maybe. *goes to sleep*

I should mention that this was inspired by Merula and Joss Whedon. Thank you.

He stood at the edge of the roof, his blue eyes gazing down dispassionately. He’d followed a group of five rather nasty red demons, chasing a slender little kid across the city and into the empty dead end. The prey stopped, his back against the wall, not quite touching though, as he turned to face his attackers.

Three guesses how that would end.

 

The vampiric parts of him cried in joyful expectation of blood. The demon bits added their two cents in, at the prospect of the chunky bits. Everything else smirked and continued watching.

 

The kid did not move, not even an inch ever since the first demon entered the alley. He stood there, his eyes closed. They remained closed until the last of the gang disappeared from the street. And when they did-

 

Well, the watcher thought, there’s plenty of chunks.

 

The creatures of the night found themselves rather astounded when the vulnerable boy sprouted a pair of rather vicious looking sharp objects out of nowhere and, with the grace of a figure skater, jumped forward. The first in line didn’t get the chance to open his mouth in surprise, before his head landed in a dumpster. The second got as far as uttering a questioning ‘wh…’ The next managed to swing a Morgenstern, hook it around one of the swords and pull.

 

The weakness of this strategy occurred to him only when the kid went with the flow, twisting in mid air, and landing, the *other* sword first, on his head. So much for the brains of the operation.

 

The remaining two, following the noble traditions of their clan, paused to look at one another, then charged, with a battle cry a newborn could repeat without rehearsals. The watcher observed, in mild amusement, that the kid did not even bother to duck. He just extended both arms and waited for the opposition to do the rest.

 

He walked out of the alley as if nothing major had happened, his coppery braid swinging along with the wind, looking as if nothing on the face of the planet could make him blink.

 

“I know you’re there.” His calm voice rang across the street, and over the roofs. “If you have something to say, do it now. I have a schedule to keep.” Apparently, even strange men stalking him and perching on the roofs weren’t unusual. A shadow detached from the roof and landed in front of the young man, eliciting no response other than an arched brown. “You stalked?”

 

“I want you to kill me, Shinigami,” the shadow said, stepping into the flickering light of the lamp. With the both of them on ground level, it was obvious they were pretty much the same age and height, though the former in appearances only. The sword-wielding man cocked his head to the side.

 

“Okay. That’ll be ten million dollars. Would you like a receipt?” The blue-eyed man stared.

 

“What?”

 

“A receipt. Ten M is a lot of money, I would imagine you’d want something to show where it went,” the long-haired hunter explained, wiping assorted fluids off of his weapons.

 

“I did mention who do I want you to kill, right?”

 

“Yourself. My hearing is good, thank you.”

 

“And – why would I want a receipt?”

 

“Like I said, ten-times-ten to power six is a lot of money.”

 

“Nevertheless I feel you’re missing my point.”

 

“Look man, I can’t go around randomly killing people who ask for it. I would be busy pretty much twenty four/seven. You think those idiots in the alley got a discount charge? Sure, it wasn’t them who got the receipt, but still.”

 

“But I don’t plan on resisting!” the stalker protested. The complaint earned him a scrutinizing look.

 

“How many of the folks I killed have had any time to actually resist, huh?”

 

“Probably very few, but I won’t put up a fight at all.”

 

“Please, I have a reputation to maintain. I cannot afford killing a,” another appraising look, “high vampire for free. A charity I ain’t.”

 

“But-”

 

“Sorry. Be seeing you.” The half-breed watched the hunter leave in complete disbelief. Eventually he turned to go, before he could make a step, however, a whistle in the wind caught his attention. Extending his arm he reflexively grabbed the object sailing through the air, an object that turned out to be short, razor sharp and warm to the touch.

 

“Take good care of it, it’s one of my favourites!” Shinigami’s amused voice rang throughout the street. “It’s encrusted with silver, made especially for demon hunting. You go to the bar three alleys down, someone will give you the current wanted list. Maybe, if you’re good, you’ll earn enough soon!”

 

Moments later the street was empty again.

END.