A Selfmade Predicament

WORD COUNT: 1140

Burshile was a large man, larger than most. He stood just over seven feet, while his fatted muscle tipped the scale at four hundred pounds. As far back as he could remember he’d been bigger than the other boys of Grottsville Hollow. They used to tease him until one day, much to their dismay, he discovered his size came with natural strength and a ferocity they’d created. No one picked on him after that.

Over the years he’d managed to make a name for himself, locally at least, based on his brawling. But that was long ago. Eventually, the surrounding territories stopped sending challengers, tired of the broken shells that were returned. Life would have become dull had it not been for the good fortune of meeting Shalizar.

Shalizar was much smaller than Burshile but also a lot smarter. He’d talked to Burshile long into that first night, explaining how, if they worked together, they would become the most feared and respected men in all of Grottsville Hollow, probably even the entire territory. Burshile had liked that idea.

With Shalizar’s scheming and Burshile’s violence, it took less than a year to wrest control of the town’s seedy underbelly from the various factions and unite them under one ruler. It took even less time to obtain full influence over the local government. Money and fear solved a lot of issues.

Burshile thought back to that first conversation with Shalizar. His one true friend had made good on his promise. Everyone was afraid of him. Everyone, except for the stranger sitting across from him.

The man was lean but well muscled. His clothes were average, dirty and torn from being roughed up by the guards. His face was thin, almost hawkish, with a narrow nose and dark eyes. His hair was dark but rippled in blue hues under the torchlight. Had he been standing, Burshile guessed he’d be no taller than six feet, maybe and inch or two taller. Still short in his eyes.

“I’ll ask you again, what is your name?”

The stranger yawned, clearly bored with his current situation. “Kristof, if it’ll move this along any faster.”

Burshile couldn’t hide his surprise. He couldn’t remember a time when someone had been so dismissive with him. He decided he wasn’t amused by it.

“What does the girl mean to you?”

Kristof turned to look up at him. “Um, nothing…?”

“Bullshit.”

“If you say so.”

“I don’t recognize you and I know everyone in this town. You killed two of my men over her. Are you her brother? You don’t look much like her. A dumbshit in love perhaps?”

“Ah, nope. Just passing through town.”

“Bullshit.”

“You like that word don’t you? Listen, your men were trying to rape her.”

“She’s a whore. It’s what whores do.”

“No, she’s someone trying to make a living, like everyone else. And it was obvious getting beaten up and raped in filthy alley weren’t parts of her plan. I agreed with her, your men didn’t.”

“So you murdered two good men to protect the dignity of a stranger? You’re gonna hang for a whore? Bullshit. Who is she to you?”

“Good? Hardly. They were two fools overcompensating for their…shortcomings. You should thank me.”

Burshile snorted. “Why throw your life away for a stranger, a whore nonetheless?” That finally elicited some emotion from the man.

A ghost of amusement flickered across Kristof’s lips. “You aren’t the first to ask that. And I’ve never had a good answer for it. Everyone has some driving force in their lives, something that, for better or worse, keeps them going. I’ve got a couple, but the big one is bullying. For whatever reason, I just can’t stand bullies. Can’t say as to why though. I’ve never really been bullied myself.”

Burshile laughed. “A sense of nobility? What’s the other?”

“What?”

“The other thing that keeps you going. You said you had two.”

“Did I?” Before Burshile could react, Kristof was suddenly on his feet. Without expression or sound, he snapped forward with a fast right fist, punching Burshile in the larynx. The big man had never felt that kind of force and for a split second, his mind flickered a moment of appreciation for it. It turned to panic as quickly when he realized no matter how much he inhaled, no air was coming into his lungs.

Kristof calmly walked around the table as Burshile clawed uselessly at his throat. His hands darted around the big man, nimble fingers searching. He found the knife he knew Burshile would have. No one had bothered to put him chains. Burshile’s arrogance wouldn’t allow that kind of weakness. Having some weapons hidden on him didn’t hurt either.

Burshile stumbled and fell against the table, dropping to his knees. Kristof stepped over and placed a hand on the back of Burshile’s head, pressing it against the tabletop. He leaned forward so his lips were next to the man’s ear. “Since you asked, killing never bothered me.” He slipped the blade into the base of Burshile’s skull and like a puppet with its strings cut, the man went permanently limp.

Kristof went to work, making a detailed search of the body. He discovered another smaller knife, a hefty coin pouch and set of keys. The big man had not adorned himself with jewelry of any kind and his clothes were far too large to be of use.

Standing and stretching, he pressed an ear to the door and listened. The wood was too thick so he knelt and looked over the lock. He then quietly inspected the keys. Making a decision, he slipped it into the opening and gently twisted. It gave with a muted click. Rising quickly, he pocketed the keys and pouch. Holding a blade in each hand, he grasped the door handle and breathed out. He yanked the door wide and stepped out, eyes darting, mind gathering information. There was only one other person in the hallway, a guard standing to his immediate left. He passed one blade across the man’s throat while plunging the other up and under his breastplate. The guard died without a sound. Kristof lowered the body silently to the floor and stripped him of his valuables. Now he had four knives, a short sword with belted scabbard and more coin.

Kristof rose, tightening the belt around his waist. Even though his encounter with Burshile had been brief, he knew there was no way that man was capable of controlling so many people; he was too stupid. That meant someone else was still in charge.

“I just wanted a place to sleep," he mumbled aloud as he made his way down the hallway to some stairs. “Why do I do this to myself?” But he couldn’t stop the smile that crept at the corners of his mouth.