The Guest

Four AM.

Byran sat on his living room couch. He turned a bottle cap-sized object over in his hand. He found the metal object attached to a chain in the man's pocket. His gaze flickered periodically to the body on the floor.

Dragging the man into his apartment had been a pain. He'd stumbled on several empty beer cans and knocked over numerous alcohol bottles while tending to the man's wounds.

After shedding his bloodied clothes, he'd changed into his basic workman outfit.

Now, he watched the man with suspicion. He fingered the glock resting on his left knee. The other hand fiddled with the metal object.

The roughly bandaged chest rose and fell with each breath.

A subtle shift.

"Are you conscious?"

The man cracked open his undressed eye.

"Can you sit up?"

"Yes... I think so..."

The raspy response dissolved into wracking coughs.

"Good, then get out."

Byran watched the man with expressionless, wary eyes.

The man observed Byran.

He turned the metal capsule over.

The man took a shaky breath.

"Been a while... since ya held one... eh?"

Byran's hand froze mid-movement.

He was silent. He hadn't realized he'd been manipulating the small object.

"That was... Lenn's".

In that moment time stood still.

When Byran regained himself he found his knee on the man's throat.

"Who are you?!"

His eyes were wild.

The man stared. He made no move to answer.

Byran pressed down harder.

"Who?!"

The man strained for breath. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His wound reopened.

Byran removed his knee and stepped back. His glock at the ready.

The man coughed at the sudden rush of air.

"Well? Speak! Who are you?!"

The man's eyes glimmered with humour.

"Impatient are we?"

"Yes."

Byran placed pressure on his windpipe with his boot.

"Why did you come here?"

The door crashed open.

Byran turned his sights on the new guest.

The man was dressed in a suit, with slicked-back hair. Glasses completed the classic corporate look.

"Who the hell are y-?"

A light shone from the intruder's pocket.

"Shit!"

Byran ran. He single-handedly vaulted over the kitchen bar as it exploded into shrapnel.

"Don't point that silly toy at me, boy."

His ears rang from the blast. He dropped his gun to the floor. It was useless here.

Why is an Enforcer here?

His breath sped up.

Dammit!

He faintly heard the intruder address the prone man.

"You caused me a lot of trouble. I trust you'll come quietly this time."

Calm down. Calm down. He doesn't see you as a threat.

He had been in hiding for years. Engaging now would alert them to his existence.

Why did he come to me?

Regardless, he had to do something. Enforcer's weren't known to leave witnesses. However, he still had the element of surprise, he could escape.

His hand clenched around the metal object.

Lenn...

He slowed his breathing with precision born from years of practice.

He focused.

He could see his best friend clearly. He envisioned Lenn. He remembered their childhood. The adventure. The mischief. The pain. The laughter.

He could feel Lenn's strong back against his own, prepared for battle.

He watched Lenn charge into the fray. Saw the powerful swing of his weighted broadsword obliterate the enemy in a blaze of light.

He saw the look of fear on Lenn's face as he fell into the abyss.

The metal in his hand shone. His consciousness flowed through the elements calling out the familiar shape of Lenn's weapon.

He had one shot.

Byran leapt back over the counter. He swung the sword over his head, into the apartment floor.

The building screamed as the apartment was torn in half.

It all happened in a matter of seconds.

The enforcer jumped back. Shock visible in his eyes.

Byran maintained eye-contact with the suited man. He knew that an enforcer would not engage a dangerous unknown element.

Jumping into the coming shock wave, he snatched up the body of the limp man.

He rode the aftermath of the slash high into the air.

The small capsule turned to lay again comfortably in his palm. It was always challenging wielding another's weapon. It couldn't be maintained for long.

He shifted the air around his feet to gain purchase mid-air.

He kicked off of the solid air. He propelled himself higher and further from the enforcer.

Byran huffed with effort. He was really out of shape.

"Hey you. You're a mercenary right?"

No answer. The man was unconscious.

"You'd better not die old man. You owe me a new apartment."