The two hands of the Devil

Chapter 4 – Revealing the Plan

Miss Fortune was throwing a sequence of furious glares at her companion. Never, never she had been so humiliated and insulted. And now, she had also to act as if fearing that pathetic figure of a sheriff. The woman-gunner was boiling hot with rage and wasn’t waiting much more thant the moment in which the two of them were going to be closed down in the same cell, so that she could grab him by the ears and scream at him all of her frustrations.

Still, under the rage she felt in her, she knew that Warmonger had to have some kind of plan. It just wasn’t possible that a man who had exterminated an entire city only for the fault of one man, which dog had done his business near Warmonger, and hadn’t wanted to say sorry, was now surrendering to that two cents sheriff? No, it just wasn't possible.

Still, she decided within herself maliciously, that he now could forget to get close to her for at least one month. Afterall, she hadn’t his problem, so.

Lost in thoughts she hadn’t even notice of being already inside the Sheriff office, a rough but strong building in stone. As soon as they were there Wyatt Urrp began once again with laughing and complimenting himself until, he ordered them to take off any weapons they had on them if they wanted to avoid a physical search.

And in a specific case also an intimate search.

“Come on, put down your weapon and leave them on that table. Slowly, my boys sometimes are trigger happy.”

Miss Fortune was the first to move, taking out two golden revolver from the belt at her hips, leaving them on the requested table. Then she extracted a double barreled sawed off shotgun, taking it off from a special holster at the base of her spine.

Already she began moving when she felt the gun of Chupacabra Bill pointed at her head, suggesting her to check better. With a nasty smile on her face, Miss Fortune was forced to also two small daggers from her stiletto boots, adding them to the pile.
Satisfied at last, the deputies escorted her roughly in one of the cells, leaveing her there as they concentrated their firepower on the figure of Warmonger.

“Your turn now, Beast. Empty your pockets.”


The giant didn’t wait, letting his portable howitzer fall on the table, breaking it and letting fly a veritable cloud of splinters. After that, under the stupefied and terrorized stares of the deputies and sheriff both, soon followed a small arm-minigun, with incorporated cartridges, a pair of automated shotguns with their drum loaders, taken from custom made holsters on his legs, two small skorpio machineguns, attached on his chest to two bandoleers of frag grenades, which were left on the pile shortly after.

Almost everyone in the room was mesmerized by the small mountain of firepower that was literally obscuring the remains of the broken table and, even worse was their stupor when the bandit began to take out from his back what everyon had thought being a huge bag, revealing instead a heavy flame thrower.

“There you go. If now, would you be so kind and open the cell where you’ve left my partner… ”

“And where do you think you are? At the Grand Hotel?” spat the most sordid of the three deputies, the one known as Rotten Teeth.

“First. I don’t need a gun to kill each and all of you. Second, do you really want to see me angry again?”


A moment later, Warmonger was in the very same cell as Miss Fortune, while the police officer and his mena were partying for their luck in capturing such a big bounty put of those two. The woman turned toward the giant with an angry glare.

“Warmy? What the hell were you thinking? Why you wanted to be arrested by these foolish idiots?”

Before she could even finish, the giant posed one of his finger on her lips, muting her.

“A fighting could have risked the life of the man I must question. The man I was seeking for months, I may add. The last one to have seen alive the target requested by my Master”

“And…and this guy is here!?”

Warmonger didn’t answer, as he moved against the stone wall that separated their cell from the others, only to crash through it as if it had been paper, opening a large enough fissure so to move through it without the need to crouch. Without any wait he moved on, bringing down walls until he wasn’t at the last cell of that block.

Miss Fortune turned her gaze toward those fools that had arrested them. As she had imagined they were now lying on the floor, deeply asleep while, from the bottle of whiskey they had drank from a slimy white paste oozed out. She grinned mischievously at that, her plan hadn0t backfired after all. While those morons were stunned in seeing the sheer quantity of weapons her partner had on himself, she had quickly managed to sneak a couple of tablets of sleeping powder inside the only open bottle on one of the desks in the office.

“Good night, Assholes. When you’ll wake up you will rue the moment you tried to rape me.

Now, Warmy? Who exactly are you searching fo…?”

“Tom “FishHead” Tucker. I’m searching for you from a long time.”

Warmonger had finally reached the last cell, finding himself face to face with an oldster in tatty rags, covered in dirt and with a long beard, one that had been candid white at some point…maybe.

The old man turned toward the giant, looking at him with maliciously cunning eyes, before turning himself ninety degrees to his left, starting to speak to the emptiness.

“I know not who you are…And I have no nothing to tell you”

The oldster spoke with an absurd acute voice, while spitting around at each and every word. The woman could only moan in desperation as she covered her face with her hands.

“Old timer? We’re right here…No, the other side…I said your other side…Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

“Let him be, Miss Fortune. FishHead doesn’t need to see me to know what I require.
You see, Tom, my Master is really disturbed by your lack of faith.

With your failure, a certain someone has gone missing.”

“What? Your mattress has been stormed by fishes? What the hell does that mean?”

Miss Fortune growled as her hands curled up into fists, prey of frustration. She motioned forward to say something but the giant beside her moved first.

“Tsk. You should have been an actor, Tom. A lot less trouble that way. I’m searching for TimJimBoe. Tell me where he is.”

The old man suddenly lost all of his color, as he slowly turned toward the colossal man, finding him staring down into his eyes.

“N-No…No, please…He’ll kill me if I speak…”

“And if you don’t I’ll skin you first…and then I’ll eat you alive. One piece at the time. What do you say, Miss Fortune? Would you prefer some stew or some Barbecue?”

The woman, turning green at the gills, weakly shook her head no, only to hide behind a wall to barf away her disgust.

“Oh God…Oh Lord! You’re..! You’re the..!”

As FishHead began speaking, quickly Warmonger interrupted him, closing his hand on the old man fragile neck, bringing his face close to his own.

“Where is he? WHERE?”

“Alright…A-Alright! He..He went in hiding…in…in Ashen Valley. They…They said you wouldn’t have ever gone there on your own…”

“Uhr…Ahr Ahr Ahr….Do you believe that I’m alone now, Tom? Now…What to do with you?”

“W-Wait! You said…”

“I’ve promised you to skin you alive if you didn’t speak.
I’ve never said anything about you getting out of here alive.”

Meanwhile, Miss Fortune, helping herself with her lock-picks, carefully hidden where no man should get his hands without her permission, managed to open up one of the barred doors and get out of those cells.

Slowly, for she still felt sick at the idea of eating someone, she managed to get back to the main office and began re-arming herself, kicking away the still sleeping forms of the sheriff and their deputies. She had just finished when the huge figure of Warmonger appeared beside her, scaring her shitless as her hearth almost jumped out of her throat.

“Fuck!” Warmy! As big as you are how can you move so silently? You gave me an heart attack, you know that? Oh god…Only this was missing to make this my perfect day. Now then, what…what do you want to do of these idiots…and of the old man?”

“Old man? Which old man?”

“The guy you met before? Mr. TunaHead or something…”

“Oh, FishHead. Well, if you like, I’ve kept some of him for a later snack. If you get hungry we could divide…”

Miss Fortune felt her stomach lurch as it tried to expel a non-existent dinner out of her throat.

“N-No…No,thanks…I don’t think I’ll ever be that hungry…”

“Umpf. You don’t know what your missing.

Anyway, these others aren’t important. We can do of them, whatever we want…You tell me what do you want to do with them, after all…you’re the victim here.

I personally would say we can torture them and then mince them slowly slowly, limb by limb.”

The woman couldn’t avoid to seek support against a wall as she remembered the times when they were trying to rob a bank and she had found his partner covered in blood as the guards and bystanders corpses were spread over a large area around him, a piece here and another there.

Sure, Warmonger, or Warmy as she had nicknamed him, was a loyal friend and an even better lover but…he seemed to have only one drive in his mind.

Killing.

And generally, the more bloodier he became, the happier he was.


Sometime she asked herself how could she still be following him, why did she kept staying with him knowing the extermination he so loved to do. And every time she realized that, even though he was the biggest, cruelest, merciless man she had ever seen…he was also the most tender lover she had ever been with, without considering that with him by her side she knew all the troubles of her old life wouldn’t have disturbed her.

With a breath of resignation she didn’t answer and, ignoring him, she went out of the office, leaving her partner looking around dumbfounded.

“What? What did I say?

Oh well. Sorry boys but I fear that time is against me and I cannot do a precise job here. You shall be content of playing with a little fire.”




When the afternoon was changing into evening, the two figures of Warmonger and Miss Fortune galloped away toward the desert while, behind them the city of Nounville burned, prey of the flames.

Screams of pain and agony from its inhabitants rose behind them like an hellish ode to the destructive fury of the giant.