The Anger of Zelos

Vince crouched in the bush for well over an hour. He was shivering in the cold of the night, jumping at the slightest of noise. For a boy so young this was terrifying. To have some random man attack his Dad, then be told that they have to get away. He went from watching Tv two hours ago to crouching in a bush.

Eventually the door to one of the buildings opened, Vince sqweaked with glee as he saw his father look out the door and scan the street. He waved in the general direction of Vince, who jumped up and almost danced to his father.

"There you are." Garson said scooping the boy in his arms. He wore a warm smile on his usually gruff face and seemed in a happier mood than usual. "Mustaro is going to help us, now Vince we are going to go inside and you will treat Mustaro with the utmost respect ok."

Vince nodded with excitment.

"Remember your Please and thankyous." Garson went on in this manner as the pair turned and entered the house.


"You let them get away?"

"Yes, yes I did sir."

Zelos sat back in his massive armchair. His fingers rapped against the desk as he stared intently at Stan. The huge man, as large as a tree trunk with the brains to match, was sweating and shuffling. Zelos raised his eyebrows as he sucked a drag out of his cigar.

"The money?" Zelos asked already knowing the answer. Stan shook his head.

"I see. So you attacked a target unsolicited, let him get away, got wounded by a boy and lost me one million?"

Stan said nothing, he had a tear streaming down his left cheek. Zelos sighed and opened the drawer to his desk.

"Anything to say for yourself?"

"I was just." Stan began, he gave up straight away realising the futility of his efforts. He shook his head, keeping his head low. As if he was a child being scolded by his father.

"Fine." Zelos said. He stood up straight and raised his pistol.


Stan was left a wimpering wreck on the floor. Both knee caps had been shot and his good shoulder was also shot. Zelos rang the bell on his desk as he placed the gun back in the drawer.

"You live this time Stan. If you ever screw up so badly again that will be your head." Zelos growled, his eyes were fixed on the crumbled form. If Stan was looking he would have seen the fierce madness behind the eyes of his attacker. The fury in his eyes whirled and twisted, a crawling chaos that none could fathom.

Composing himself he sat back down. His study door opened and two men entered. They stepped in and, having nodded to Zelos, began collecting the man and removing him from the chamber.

"Stan, I want Garson's head in three days. This is your contract now. Do not fail me." Zelos said as they left. He sat back, once again in the queit, in the shadows. He took out his pocket book again and began to scribble in it.

The End

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