“Ship to starboard!” the cry pierced through the general noise. The lookout, who was a small man with a beakish sort of face, leaned over the edge of his perch up the mast, and added: “Aye, it looks like a rich one!”
The ship lurched, and the old bird near fell over the side onto the deck ten foot below him, but he held his purchase and repeated the cry from first principles, in case any of the crew had not yet heard him.
Chapter
A Twisted Game of Cat and Cat: Chapter Four
Geist didn’t have a plan of his own to take down Hardin. He had the germ of an idea, maybe. The guy didn’t like to get his own hands dirty, clearly. It was a bad job to let some pack of amateurs do the hard part and just reap the rewards. Not against the rules, mind. Just frowned upon, unless you did it with exceptional style or hypnotism or something like that, although gimmicks were also generally considered gauche at best and a major risk of exposure at worst. He had once known an assassin who used as the basis of his contracts a series of stage magic old standards. All well and good, until you run out of the good ones. There’s only so many “saw-a-lady-in-half”s you can pull before you have to start resorting to embarrassing gags like “pulling a Black Mamba out of a hat,” which bring the whole tone of the profession down. The Astounding Malvolio hadn’t lasted long after that…
The Deadman’s Finger: Chapter Four
Matches snapped beneath Hawks as he fell like a cat with a lead weight on its back. Luckily the floor was also formed of dank earth which cushioned his fall. He got up, briefly wondered if the fall hadn’t rendered him blind, then grabbed the tails of his overcoat which were hanging in front of his face and flipped them back over his head. There was a faint, acrid smell in the air which he couldn’t identify, and an iron-y taste settled on his tongue. He stumbled about in the darkness, bashing his shin on something metal that bounced away. Cursing, he ceased his explorations and allowed his eyes to become acclimated to the darkness. He wished he had been more careful with the matches…
The Deadman’s Finger: Chapter Three
The first thing the book called for was a straight knife. A margin-note by Laroux indicated that “bread knife is right out”. Hawks opened his second desk-drawer on the left side and removed a short, very sharp knife from a plate of dinner that he was keeping in there for later. It looked like it would do, although it was substantially less vicious than the knife illustrated in the book…
The Deadman’s Finger: Chapter Two
Hawks vaulted the fence easily and touched feet to slab in the backyard. Most of it was concreted over, save for a stretch at the far end that had been torn up and left as bare dirt. The door this side had enough space, so he squared up to it and then kicked just to the right of the handle, smashing the lock and sending a jarring jolt up his leg in retaliation. Limping inside, Hawks saw filthy bootprints criss-crossing the kitchen which he now entered into. His moment of respite would soon be over, and he grabbed a kitchen knife from the block. It sat easily in his hand; he had fought with many kinds of blade in his short life, but knife-fighting would always be his home turf…
The Black Gateway: Chapter Four
“These friends of yours sound very interesting,” Apollo said. “I’m almost excited to meet them. I’m sure they’ll make better company than you and your attack dogs.”
“Don’t be so flippant, Miss Ridley. I’m sure you will find that I – and my attack dogs – will take on more positive qualities in your memory. Rest assured our friends are very excited to meet you.” He leaned in close, so that Apollo could hear the uncanny sussuration of his breath escaping via means unknown…
The Black Gateway: Chapter Three
It was midnight. Mina trained her spyglass on the roof opposite. The wooden trapdoor opened and a figure in a dark cloak came up the ladder. This was all normal enough. The tall figure was completely anonymous in the dark shadows. Mina wrapped her own cloak about her and opened the shutter of the window, perching on the sill for a second before leaping into open space…
The Black Gateway: Chapter Two
Apollo spun to face the assassin, her cloak flying off her body and settling on the countertop, hooked on the crossbow bolt. The lithe figure was already turning to spring away, when Apollo threw out her arm and, with a flick of her wrist, sent something spinning after the assassin.
The barbed metal bolas expanded in the air and wrapped itself around the assassin’s legs, high-tensile wire binding them together. The assassin twisted in mid-air, clutching, trying to free them, but it was too late…
The Black Gateway: Chapter One
Apollo kicked off from one of the wooden beams that framed the teahouse and grabbed hold of the slats on the roof of the stall opposite, pulling herself up easily. As she swung her leg up, there was a tearing sound, which she ignored.
Running over the wooden roofs of the stalls, a figure clad in billowing robes. He moved with incredible precision, stepping the incredible distances from beam to beam as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Slung across his back, Apollo recognised the steel curve of a crossbow…
The War Machine: Chapter Four
The little wooden shack stood sideways to the road that Whisper rode along. When she saw it, she pulled Silk over to the side and walked her up to the shack. This was where she would put things into action. If everything went to plan, nobody would go home empty-handed tonight.
Inside the shack was a table and one chair, as well as a simple straw bed. Whisper laid the War-Machine’s case carefully on the table and sat down on the bed, feeling the prickling ends of the straw on her hands. She had hours before the handover would come, and she didn’t know when the last time she had slept was…
The Write Stuff 