Fic: The Worst Kind of Womanizer
She wore a red coat, but then there were so many people fitting that description that it was probably just a fashion trend. A very inconvenient one, given that it made them all suspect each other of carrying a bounty on their head, but no one had ever accused the general outlaw population of being intelligent. Which, she supposed, she was part of now, even if what she did should have been made legal long ago.
Hayley looked at the man bound before her.
“I guess they might pay me a little less of the bounty if the goods come in damaged…”
She removed her knife, shrugging.
“But the money was never very important. Now, I wonder if you’re really Vash the Stampede? I mean, there are so many different versions of what you look like, I’m tempted to think you don’t even exist.”
Placing her knife beneath the hulking cyborg’s neck, she leaned down and hissed into his ear.
“All I know is, they told me Vash the Stampede was the worst kind of womanizer. So, as I think you asked me, do you prefer death first or pleasure?”
***
The next man who wasn’t Vash the Stampede really did bring it on himself. You don’t call yourself by the name of a famous killer without preparing for his enemies to come gunning for you- and if you do, you might deserve to be put out of the misery of your own stupidity.
Then again, she might have let him live if he’d been a bit less adventurous with his hands.
Maybe it was just how he’d learned to socialize as a bandit. Maybe it was society’s fault that once a man fell outside the law, he decided he might as well take whatever women he desired, willing or not. The man might not have been born bad, and it was an interesting question for Hayley to reflect on as she washed the blood off her hands.
It would have been even more fun if Lena had joined her, but when Hayley asked her if she wanted to castrate a man, her friend had assumed she was joking.
***
Very reluctantly, Hayley came to the conclusion that if she wanted to find Vash the Stampede, she’d have to join forces with others who shared her goal. And that meant Legato.
She hated Legato. He hadn’t seemed so bad at first, even if his nihilism was a little heavy-handed. At least he was honest about the world and his place in it- or so she had thought before he betrayed her.
The man could sit there, calm as anything, and wipe out a gang that had been beating their female prisoners. He had known Hayley was there watching him, and it hadn’t bothered him a bit.
It was the ultimate treason, and she swore he’d pay for it. The bastard had taken kills that should have been hers.
***
“He leaves them alive.”
Hayley (or Little Red Riding Hood, as she’d been renamed by the other Gung-Ho Guns) looked questioningly at the Hornfreak. The man laughed, putting his arms around the two girls beside him.
“Of course he does. I don’t think Vash could kill if his life depended on it. Believes in second chances, two wrongs not making a right, all that jazz.”
When he’d put it like that, Hayley reflected that Vash sounded more pitiful than dangerous. It was a way of thinking that her parents had tried to hard to teach her, and that had always struck her as the pinnacle of idiocy. If you let the predator go, he will rape and kill again when you aren’t there to save his victim.
Such a shame. With all the power that man had, he could have saved so many people by now if he didn’t need to live by that code. Was that what Legato was trying to do- to keep feeding the Guns at him until he learned to take a life?
Hayley should have felt angry at this prospect. Instead, it gave her an idea.
Ever since she’d first heard that old bartender describe Vash as “the worst kind of womanizer”, Hayley had thought he needed to be taught a lesson. But for the first time, she knew exactly what kind of lesson that was. If he was going to kill, he’d need someone beside him who wouldn’t let him back down. That Wolfwood man they’d sent out had failed, but she wouldn’t.
As Hayley began to formulate her plan, she glanced back at the whores on the Hornfreak’s arms. It occurred to her that sex with a man who could kill you if you said no might not qualify as entirely consensual.
Sitting down beside the Hornfreak, Hayley reached for the knife in her pocket. She was glad she’d decided to follow Vash. Even if they would never meet, she’d found such interesting people along the way.
Hayley looked at the man bound before her.
“I guess they might pay me a little less of the bounty if the goods come in damaged…”
She removed her knife, shrugging.
“But the money was never very important. Now, I wonder if you’re really Vash the Stampede? I mean, there are so many different versions of what you look like, I’m tempted to think you don’t even exist.”
Placing her knife beneath the hulking cyborg’s neck, she leaned down and hissed into his ear.
“All I know is, they told me Vash the Stampede was the worst kind of womanizer. So, as I think you asked me, do you prefer death first or pleasure?”
***
The next man who wasn’t Vash the Stampede really did bring it on himself. You don’t call yourself by the name of a famous killer without preparing for his enemies to come gunning for you- and if you do, you might deserve to be put out of the misery of your own stupidity.
Then again, she might have let him live if he’d been a bit less adventurous with his hands.
Maybe it was just how he’d learned to socialize as a bandit. Maybe it was society’s fault that once a man fell outside the law, he decided he might as well take whatever women he desired, willing or not. The man might not have been born bad, and it was an interesting question for Hayley to reflect on as she washed the blood off her hands.
It would have been even more fun if Lena had joined her, but when Hayley asked her if she wanted to castrate a man, her friend had assumed she was joking.
***
Very reluctantly, Hayley came to the conclusion that if she wanted to find Vash the Stampede, she’d have to join forces with others who shared her goal. And that meant Legato.
She hated Legato. He hadn’t seemed so bad at first, even if his nihilism was a little heavy-handed. At least he was honest about the world and his place in it- or so she had thought before he betrayed her.
The man could sit there, calm as anything, and wipe out a gang that had been beating their female prisoners. He had known Hayley was there watching him, and it hadn’t bothered him a bit.
It was the ultimate treason, and she swore he’d pay for it. The bastard had taken kills that should have been hers.
***
“He leaves them alive.”
Hayley (or Little Red Riding Hood, as she’d been renamed by the other Gung-Ho Guns) looked questioningly at the Hornfreak. The man laughed, putting his arms around the two girls beside him.
“Of course he does. I don’t think Vash could kill if his life depended on it. Believes in second chances, two wrongs not making a right, all that jazz.”
When he’d put it like that, Hayley reflected that Vash sounded more pitiful than dangerous. It was a way of thinking that her parents had tried to hard to teach her, and that had always struck her as the pinnacle of idiocy. If you let the predator go, he will rape and kill again when you aren’t there to save his victim.
Such a shame. With all the power that man had, he could have saved so many people by now if he didn’t need to live by that code. Was that what Legato was trying to do- to keep feeding the Guns at him until he learned to take a life?
Hayley should have felt angry at this prospect. Instead, it gave her an idea.
Ever since she’d first heard that old bartender describe Vash as “the worst kind of womanizer”, Hayley had thought he needed to be taught a lesson. But for the first time, she knew exactly what kind of lesson that was. If he was going to kill, he’d need someone beside him who wouldn’t let him back down. That Wolfwood man they’d sent out had failed, but she wouldn’t.
As Hayley began to formulate her plan, she glanced back at the whores on the Hornfreak’s arms. It occurred to her that sex with a man who could kill you if you said no might not qualify as entirely consensual.
Sitting down beside the Hornfreak, Hayley reached for the knife in her pocket. She was glad she’d decided to follow Vash. Even if they would never meet, she’d found such interesting people along the way.