Chapter 2

"Do not patronise me," he warned quietly, authority in his voice.

"ha ha, is that a threat?" fear flitted briefly across Woods' face.

"Ok, then let's make this clearer," as if bored, Brakken held up his cobra handle walking stick and pressed a trigger. Slowly, he released a gun with the cobra handle, already cocked and made of brass. Brakked pointed it at Wood.

"Ok, my mother died at child birth and I killed my father, and I would have no problems with disposing of you unless you have something to say?" Wood faltered.

"Er, um, as if... as if you'd shoot me, it probably hasn't got any bullets," he laughed nervously, hope clinging to his face.

"Really?" Mocked Brakken, "shall we test that then?" Wood was paralysed with fear, "no?" still no movement, "fine," he pointed the gun at Woods forehead and put his finger on the trigger,

"NO!" yelled the barman, "Brakken, you do this and you'll be off to prison, you don't want that!" he advised in desperation.

"Unless I shoot you all and run away," he mused heartlessly.

Whilst distracted, Wood grabbed the gun pointing it at Brakken.

"Well, well, well, looks like the barrells been turned, doesn't it," smiled Wood, relieved.

"Wood don't-"

"ha ha ha," Brakken laughed, feigning worry and putting his hands in the air he said, "oh you've really got me now... go on...shoot!" he challenged, "well? what are you waiting for?"

Wood pressed the trigger.
The gun clicked.

"You know, you were right, the gun probably didn't have any bullets in it," he cackled.

Brakked pressed a second trigger and a long silver blade appeared from the end of the cane.

"So, the empty gun and the silver blade, who will win?" he pondered sarcastically, his finger on his chin.

Woods smile instantly wiped from his face, as he held the empty gun foolishly.

"but you're not going to die yet, you're going to help me," Brakked commanded.

"With what?" muttered Wood, mirthlessly.

"Can't tell you that now can I?" Brakken stated as if talking to a four year old, "not yet."

Wordlessly, Brakken handed the barman money for a room and dragged Wood with him.

"Who knows, maybe we'll find friends in each other yet," brakken laughed, "Wood and Brakken," the smile vanished, "but probably not."

The End

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