In the Name of Justice: Chapter V
It seems like ages since I last posted. I've been working on a bunch of stuff at my AO3 (nothing like a pandemic to keep the creativity going), so kind of neglected this one for a while. The story is going to deviate from the old one quite a lot in these next couple of chapters, as I really hated the way I introduced the Knights / Guardians last time.
Thanks to anyone following along!
Link to old Chapter V
Chapter V
After Hours
“Punch for a drink!” The old man stumbled between the tables, raising his tankard high above his head.
Justice had been watching him for a while now from his corner table, weaving his way through the crowded tavern while chanting the same four words over and over and waving his tankard in every face within reach.
As he passed a large table in the centre of the room, a large bald man shouted, “All right, then!” He stood up, cracked his knuckles and socked the drunkard cleanly across the cheek, knocking him to the ground. Laughter erupted around him. One of his friends dug into his pocket and threw a couple of coins at the gibbering creature on the floor.
Justice snorted and returned to his book. The story he was reading was one of his favourites, about a girl who set out to fight a wolf, only to end up falling in love. For some reason though, he just couldn't concentrate on the words. After another sentence had flown over his head, he flicked to the inside cover, where a short dedication had been scribbled:
Happy Birthday, and keep reading!
Julius
Justice couldn't help but smile at the memory. Julius had gifted him the book on his twelfth birthday, back when he was still learning to read and write. He'd spent most days of his adolescence when he couldn't sleep flicking through books, or copying passages by memory to improve his spelling. After all, Julius had told him, literacy was the single most useful skill a person could learn, and while Justice admitted it came in handy, there were plenty of things he found far more practical in his daily life.
He'd tried to avoid thinking about Julius too much over the past few days, a particularly difficult task when there was little else to do to fill the long, lonely hours spent walking from village to village. Now though, on his third night away from home, he found his thoughts wouldn't leave him.
Things hadn't always been tense between them. In fact, most of the memories Justice held of the man who had essentially raised him were positive ones. Then Julius had relocated to Vokul to work for the crown, and Justice hadn't seen him since.
The sound of cheering drew Justice's attention to the table in the middle of the room as a bar worker in an apron set a tray of drinks on the table. There were five of them including the bald man, three men and two women, all young and hardy-looking. Probably manual workers from one of the nearby villages. One of the men grabbed the bar worker by the wrist and pulled her towards him.
“What time do you finish?” he slurred.
The woman gave a strained smile and tried to jerk her hand away, but the man wouldn't let her. Justice tensed.
“Whatever time you leave, I finish an hour after,” she said.
“Maybe I'll just sleep here, then.”
Leaning in close, the woman said, “Maybe I'll throw you in the dump at the back with all the other rubbish left here after hours.”
A jeer rose up from the man's friends and a few nearby drinkers. His face reddening, the man loosened his grip, allowing the woman to pull her hand free and return to the bar. He turned his head slightly and caught Justice's gaze.
“You think something's funny?” he shouted. “Why don't you stare some more?”
Justice lowered his eyes to his book. If there was something he'd learnt over the years, it was that drunks would fight over a piece of shit in the road if given a chance.
Within moments, the man's shadow was falling over his table. “Stare all you like, arsehole. We can go all night.”
Justice glanced up at the man. He was about the same height as him, but a little stockier, with a red beard that reached to his collar. The stink of alcohol clung to him. Justice sighed and snapped his book shut. “Not in the mood.” He stood up from his chair and made to walk past, but the man grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back.
A small crowd was forming behind the drunk, the bald man and one of the women come to back him up. Justice scanned the room. Almost every pair of eyes was turned in their direction.
“Get out of the way,” he growled.
The bearded man narrowed his eyes. “Make me.”
Justice ground his teeth together behind his lips. He could have lunged for the man and torn his throat out before anyone realised what was happening, but it wasn't worth giving himself away for. He shrugged and walked the other way around the table, making sure to give the group as wide a berth as he could. Anger boiled under his skin, but he kept his breathing steady, his eyes straight ahead. The weight of the room's eyes on his back was almost tangible.
“Punch for a drink?”
Justice looked down to see the old man sat at a table by his side. A stream of dried blood ran from his nose, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He held up his empty tankard, a hopeful look in his eyes.
Overcome by equal parts disgust and pity, Justice shook his head and started walking again, faster this time. He reached the door, threw it open and slammed it shut behind him.
*
The man watched the arc of his piss splash in the mud. He sniffed sharply and wiped at his beard with the back of his hand. He reeked of stale beer.
Swaying slightly, he tied up his trousers. The glow from the tavern windows lit the clearing he stood in with a soft orange light. He'd asked his friends to stay inside, though it was well after hours, so the landlady had probably kicked them all out. He hoped they'd have the common sense to wait for him out front. In his state, he could barely find his own cock, let alone his front door.
Something rustled in the bushes nearby. The man turned and peered into the undergrowth, but spotted nothing. He grunted to himself. One often saw little animals running around after dark. He didn't mind foxes and badgers, but rats he couldn't stand. It was their worm tails that got to him. Shivering, he hurried over to the door and tried the handle. Locked. He'd only been outside for a couple of minutes. It looked like he'd have to go the wrong way around, fighting his way through the bushes that grew at the side of the tavern to get to the front.
The air shifted behind him. Then a hand grabbed him by the back of the collar and slammed him face-first into the wall. Summoning all his strength, the man pushed against the wall with both hands and turned to face his attacker. The face he saw before him took his breath away.
“You!”
Justice's mind burned with animal desire as he pinned his victim against the wall. A hand covered his mouth and slammed his head into the bricks, exposing the side of his throat. Justice lowered his head and bit down, and then the blood was flowing like running water.
It was as if a fire had been extinguished inside him. As the hot blood filled his mouth, Justice closed his eyes and leaned in further. He could feel the man's heartbeat as if it were his own, deafening at first, then weakening second by second until it was no more than the a flutter, like the wings of a dying butterfly.
He lifted his head, breaking the embrace. The man stood slouched against the wall. Arms that had thumped against Justice's back just seconds ago now hung useless at his side. Justice pulled back a step and watched as the man collapsed to the floor like a marionette without its strings.
Somewhere nearby, a woman was shouting a name.
Panic hit Justice. The voice came from the front of the pub, but it was moving closer. He only had a few seconds to get away from this place. He considered leaving the body where it was, but decided against it. If the body was hidden, he'd have more time to flee, even if it was just a minute or two.
Hooking his arms underneath the man, Justice dragged him to the nearby bushes and dumped him between the leaves. With the blood inside him, his head felt clearer, as if an itch that had been bothering him for hours had finally been scratched. Normally, he'd take time to dress the body up a little bit, open the throat with his knife to make it look like the victim had been robbed, but of course, he was out of time tonight. He'd just have to take the risk.
After making sure that the body was covered properly by the bushes, Justice turned and ran into the forest. By the time he heard the scream, he was too far away to care.
Thanks to anyone following along!
Link to old Chapter V
Chapter V
After Hours
“Punch for a drink!” The old man stumbled between the tables, raising his tankard high above his head.
Justice had been watching him for a while now from his corner table, weaving his way through the crowded tavern while chanting the same four words over and over and waving his tankard in every face within reach.
As he passed a large table in the centre of the room, a large bald man shouted, “All right, then!” He stood up, cracked his knuckles and socked the drunkard cleanly across the cheek, knocking him to the ground. Laughter erupted around him. One of his friends dug into his pocket and threw a couple of coins at the gibbering creature on the floor.
Justice snorted and returned to his book. The story he was reading was one of his favourites, about a girl who set out to fight a wolf, only to end up falling in love. For some reason though, he just couldn't concentrate on the words. After another sentence had flown over his head, he flicked to the inside cover, where a short dedication had been scribbled:
Happy Birthday, and keep reading!
Julius
Justice couldn't help but smile at the memory. Julius had gifted him the book on his twelfth birthday, back when he was still learning to read and write. He'd spent most days of his adolescence when he couldn't sleep flicking through books, or copying passages by memory to improve his spelling. After all, Julius had told him, literacy was the single most useful skill a person could learn, and while Justice admitted it came in handy, there were plenty of things he found far more practical in his daily life.
He'd tried to avoid thinking about Julius too much over the past few days, a particularly difficult task when there was little else to do to fill the long, lonely hours spent walking from village to village. Now though, on his third night away from home, he found his thoughts wouldn't leave him.
Things hadn't always been tense between them. In fact, most of the memories Justice held of the man who had essentially raised him were positive ones. Then Julius had relocated to Vokul to work for the crown, and Justice hadn't seen him since.
The sound of cheering drew Justice's attention to the table in the middle of the room as a bar worker in an apron set a tray of drinks on the table. There were five of them including the bald man, three men and two women, all young and hardy-looking. Probably manual workers from one of the nearby villages. One of the men grabbed the bar worker by the wrist and pulled her towards him.
“What time do you finish?” he slurred.
The woman gave a strained smile and tried to jerk her hand away, but the man wouldn't let her. Justice tensed.
“Whatever time you leave, I finish an hour after,” she said.
“Maybe I'll just sleep here, then.”
Leaning in close, the woman said, “Maybe I'll throw you in the dump at the back with all the other rubbish left here after hours.”
A jeer rose up from the man's friends and a few nearby drinkers. His face reddening, the man loosened his grip, allowing the woman to pull her hand free and return to the bar. He turned his head slightly and caught Justice's gaze.
“You think something's funny?” he shouted. “Why don't you stare some more?”
Justice lowered his eyes to his book. If there was something he'd learnt over the years, it was that drunks would fight over a piece of shit in the road if given a chance.
Within moments, the man's shadow was falling over his table. “Stare all you like, arsehole. We can go all night.”
Justice glanced up at the man. He was about the same height as him, but a little stockier, with a red beard that reached to his collar. The stink of alcohol clung to him. Justice sighed and snapped his book shut. “Not in the mood.” He stood up from his chair and made to walk past, but the man grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back.
A small crowd was forming behind the drunk, the bald man and one of the women come to back him up. Justice scanned the room. Almost every pair of eyes was turned in their direction.
“Get out of the way,” he growled.
The bearded man narrowed his eyes. “Make me.”
Justice ground his teeth together behind his lips. He could have lunged for the man and torn his throat out before anyone realised what was happening, but it wasn't worth giving himself away for. He shrugged and walked the other way around the table, making sure to give the group as wide a berth as he could. Anger boiled under his skin, but he kept his breathing steady, his eyes straight ahead. The weight of the room's eyes on his back was almost tangible.
“Punch for a drink?”
Justice looked down to see the old man sat at a table by his side. A stream of dried blood ran from his nose, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He held up his empty tankard, a hopeful look in his eyes.
Overcome by equal parts disgust and pity, Justice shook his head and started walking again, faster this time. He reached the door, threw it open and slammed it shut behind him.
*
The man watched the arc of his piss splash in the mud. He sniffed sharply and wiped at his beard with the back of his hand. He reeked of stale beer.
Swaying slightly, he tied up his trousers. The glow from the tavern windows lit the clearing he stood in with a soft orange light. He'd asked his friends to stay inside, though it was well after hours, so the landlady had probably kicked them all out. He hoped they'd have the common sense to wait for him out front. In his state, he could barely find his own cock, let alone his front door.
Something rustled in the bushes nearby. The man turned and peered into the undergrowth, but spotted nothing. He grunted to himself. One often saw little animals running around after dark. He didn't mind foxes and badgers, but rats he couldn't stand. It was their worm tails that got to him. Shivering, he hurried over to the door and tried the handle. Locked. He'd only been outside for a couple of minutes. It looked like he'd have to go the wrong way around, fighting his way through the bushes that grew at the side of the tavern to get to the front.
The air shifted behind him. Then a hand grabbed him by the back of the collar and slammed him face-first into the wall. Summoning all his strength, the man pushed against the wall with both hands and turned to face his attacker. The face he saw before him took his breath away.
“You!”
Justice's mind burned with animal desire as he pinned his victim against the wall. A hand covered his mouth and slammed his head into the bricks, exposing the side of his throat. Justice lowered his head and bit down, and then the blood was flowing like running water.
It was as if a fire had been extinguished inside him. As the hot blood filled his mouth, Justice closed his eyes and leaned in further. He could feel the man's heartbeat as if it were his own, deafening at first, then weakening second by second until it was no more than the a flutter, like the wings of a dying butterfly.
He lifted his head, breaking the embrace. The man stood slouched against the wall. Arms that had thumped against Justice's back just seconds ago now hung useless at his side. Justice pulled back a step and watched as the man collapsed to the floor like a marionette without its strings.
Somewhere nearby, a woman was shouting a name.
Panic hit Justice. The voice came from the front of the pub, but it was moving closer. He only had a few seconds to get away from this place. He considered leaving the body where it was, but decided against it. If the body was hidden, he'd have more time to flee, even if it was just a minute or two.
Hooking his arms underneath the man, Justice dragged him to the nearby bushes and dumped him between the leaves. With the blood inside him, his head felt clearer, as if an itch that had been bothering him for hours had finally been scratched. Normally, he'd take time to dress the body up a little bit, open the throat with his knife to make it look like the victim had been robbed, but of course, he was out of time tonight. He'd just have to take the risk.
After making sure that the body was covered properly by the bushes, Justice turned and ran into the forest. By the time he heard the scream, he was too far away to care.