Das Nickle was held upside down by rope. He had a mask on his face, a knife in his gut, six nails in his hand, and a gun to his head. Surely getting out of this sticky situation ought to be easy, right?

Not for you but it was for Das.

The group of gangsters still had glints of joy in their eyes as they peered at the pendulous, hanging thief. Theyd caught him. Had it not been for the dead-end alley, they would have lost him and their seventy thousand dollars. There were four of these gangsters: the boss, a clerk, and two errand boys.

The boss had a flare in his eyes. A flare of experience. A flare of anger. To think that Das had robbed them through employment. It was a pain to think of for the boss, really.

The boss strutted over to the hanging thief by the name of Das. His strut turned into a charge and he kicked Das right to the head. After which, he shook off his shoes and scowled at the groaning bastard.

”Nice to see you again too, Mr.Brick, ” Das said under his breath.

Mr. Brick sneered. ”Ill have you ground up like beef and sold on the shelves. ”

”Listen, Mr. Brick, ” Das said, ”I can explain. I was just givin the money some sun. ”

One of the errand boys picked up a bag from the floor. ”You thought you could get away, didn ya? ”

Mr.Brick snarled, unmasking Das. Das had blonde silky hair. His eyes were bluer than the sky and hollowed and fierce. The expression he wore was peak arrogance; he dangled loosely from the ropes.

”Nobody crosses me and my money! Have you any idea what I can do with these hands? ”

”Punish me, Mr.Brick, ” Das smirked, ”punish me. ”

Mr.Brick punched him to the gut.

”Harder, daddy! Punish me! ”

Mr. Brick punched him again. Only this time with all his mustered might. Das groaned and fell to silence right then.

The clerk had a gun pointed at Das. He sighed. ”Hes another one of them youths running about the city stealin things. I just got a feelin. ”

”Nah, ” Mr.Brick said, ”this is too small a crime for them to be decadent. The thievery I see from those other youths can be compared. ”

The bald errand boy turned to the other errand boy, scolding him. ”Hey, why the ** haven you started countin the money yet? ”

The younger errand boy flinched and quickly opened the bag.

Mr. Brick snatched the clerks gun and directed it at Das upended head. ”Youve got a pretty face, let me put a hole in it. ”

”Im using one already, I needn another, Mr. Brick, ” Das smirked. ”How about you put something in it. ”

The errand boys eyes widened as boxes fell out of the bag. He retreated back and only then he looked over at his boss. ”Its …. Its not here. ”

Mr. Brick grimaced. ”What! ”

”The money, boss, ” the man snapped, ”theres none here! ”

Mr. Brick took his eyes off Das. He took his eyes off Das and it was already a horrible mistake.

”Boss, he tricked us! ”

Das reacted. Expeditious. He opened his balled fist, dropping a single nail from the five others in his hand. The nail fell and bolted upward, piercing right through Mr. Bricks forehead before he could turn to him.

”Boss! ” Snapped the errand boys in unison.

Mr. Brick collapsed, dropping to the floor with his mouth gaped like a puissant pregnancy. His gun bounced across the pitch, knocking against the clerks leather boot.

The clerk looked back at Das, who still hung from the rope, and scowled before looking down at the gun. He bent over. He picked up the gun. He turned. Too late.

Das whacked him to the head. He stumbled backward but held up his gun. He inched his finger toward the trigger. Das swept his left hand upward. The gun slipped right out of the mans hand and pitched into the air.

”Im going to ** you up, kid! ” screamed one of the errand boys, charging from behind.

A rivulet of blood ran down from Das nostril. He raised his left hand and the falling gun fell right down into it. He spun around. He shot down the attacking errand boy.

The clerk attacked from behind. Das spun around again, elbowing the clerk to his head.

The clerk stumbled backward. The clerk steadied. Das fired. As the clerk collapsed, Das tried to fire again. The gun clicked. It clicked once more..

”Ah, crap. Out of ammo. ” Das said, turning around slowly. ”How am I supposed to deal with you? ”

The last errand boy just stood there in fright, trembling. He had a family to live for and he had only just remembered it.

”I can die, ” he snapped, ”Ive got a daughter! ”

Das frowned. ”Hmmm, if only I gave a **. ” He selected a nail.

”Please, man, I wanna live … for her, ” the man cried, ”Im only in this for her, man! ”

Das dropped a nail.

”We
e dirt poor and Im in debt. I just needed money for the— ”

The nail hit the floor and bounced across the pitch at Das feet. Damn it, he thought as he wiped away the blood at his nose with the heel of his palm. He couldn kill him.

He sighed. ”Well, my friend, I guess you
e off the hook. Consider yourself a lucky man. ”

”W-what? ” The young man stuttered.

”Come on, don make me change my mind, ” Das turned around.

”Thank … thank you, ” he sighed. ”Thank you so much! ”

In the two percent metal in the mans body, Das just knew he was telling the truth. The vibrations were too bland and not vigorous in the slightest. The metallic motion of truth.

”Sir? ” The man called as Das turned around. ”Can you take me with you? ”

Das started down the alley. ”No. ”

”Pleas

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