Keith III

Keith stood a little straighter at the mention of his job. He was a hired gun by trade, and he took pride in his work. He specialized in “retrieval” services, which mostly involved the theft of a previously stolen good, and often included a large count of bodily harm to any in his way. On rare occasion, he was asked to participate in other forms of mercenary work. Currently ranked number two in the business, he lagged behind just one person: his boss.

Kayleen giggled. “Awww, Keith, are you worried?” Keith could see her face now, the smug bitch…oh how he wished to surpass her, to be the number one mercenary on the market. People would bow to him as they passed, tributes would be paid on site, and nubile women would throw themselves at his feet!

But no. He would not have that. Not now. Now when his lively hood was dependent on the whim of his boss. Who also happened to be his lover.

The growl that rasped out of his throat was indistinguishable from that of a mountain bear. “Give. Me. My. Fscking. JOB,” he ground out, each word harsher than the last.

Kayleen tittered and cooed soothingly at Keith, her tone soft and gentle. “Baby, please, don’t worry. Leenie has it all here for you, ok? Just come home safe and whole this time,” now her voice was slightly worried. Keith brushed it off.

It wasn’t his fault he came home with a hole punched thru his shoulder a month ago. Besides, the other guy’s head was now on his trophy wall, the grotesque mutation of a snake’s skull tacked up after being stripped of the flesh. Freaking Lance-Deferes, always combing their damnable death magyks with martial arts. Nothing cured a Lance-Defere like decapitation though. Shame they never new before they were dead.

“I hadn’t planned on it,” he began in his normal tone, “But now, I think I’ll let whatever fell beastie awaits me to slice me to ribbons.” He grinned to himself, satisfied in his assholery. He wasn’t prepared for the choked sob that came back through the phone.

“Ho-ho-ho-how c-c-could you say that?!” Kayleen was beyond upset. “How co-could you joke about something like that?”

The lump in Keith’s throat was uncharacteristic, to say the least. His utter confusion at Kayleen’s worry shone through with his next sentence. “Leenie…I…I was just kidding,” he couldn’t believe his ears when she bawled openly into the phone at that. Now he knew something was definitely wrong. Kayleen was not a girly girl. Hell, most times she was hardly a girl. As far as he knew, he was her first lover.

“Leenie, what’s wrong,” came the hushed question.

Kayleen coughed and laughed a little. “Well, you dope, there’s a reason I want you home safe and whole. Or should I say we?” 

Keith II

Keith sighed under his breath, rolled his amber eyes, and half-grinned. "Kayleen, get to the point please? I just slaughtered..." he paused to look over the scene around him once more, "thirty-odd men and boys, all of which were vying for the chance to rescue this chick from the horrible fate which seems to befall all young maidens in towers." Here he gnashed his teeth violently and his toned grew irked. "So, if it is possible for you to skip the niceties for once, then please, by all means skip them and tell my WHY I am here?" 

The voice remained silent for a while, then a while longer. Keith almost hung up when the voice spoke up once more. "I um...I'm sorry for not giving you the purpose of this mission before hand, Keith. I was instructed not to unless it was certain you would be the one left standing to complete the job." The keen of metal sliding 'cross metal stood out. "Since you have picked up your phone, and reported the death of those 'thirty-odd men and boys', it is now safe to assume that you will complete your task and retrieve that which you were sent for."

Keith

Keith looked upon the mighty tower standing before him and couldn’t help but touch the pendant on his neckchain nervously. Surely he was the one most suited to this challenge, defeating and destroying all the competition before him. 

He looked around at the battlefield on which he stood, the bodies of his foes and competitors strewn about. Some of them looked almost peaceful, with smiles on their faces and their bodies carefully laid down as if they were sleeping; others were close to being in pieces, the limbs and torsos, even some heads, just hanging by a mere flap of skin or a few unbroken tendons, their bodies violated and savagely ripped. 

The latter set of bodies looked so ravaged, it was almost as though several large animals had torn into them and tugged until satisfied. The skies above Keith were clouded with ravens, the raucous cries accompanied by the artificially mixed and high-pitched ringing from Keith's pocket. 

"Hello," Keith's uncharacteristically deep voice answered in a bored tone.

"Ah, Keith," the voice came out squeaky and small through the reciever. "Glad to hear you're still alive, my friend."

"Mm," was all that came out of his mouth.

"Aaaiya....so cold, eh, Keith," the tiny voice responded jovially. "Well, I guess it can't be helped, what with sending you on these insane missions all the time. I mean, c'mon, defeating a veritable horde of men so as to save one measly life?" The voice paused, and giggled. "That might be a bit much for me to give you now, no?"