HeroMachine Character Portrait Creator

The Shadow smiled at hearing those words from behind the van. Betrayal was an art, he thought to himself. Faked char marks next to a UV lamp, originally used to harden a villain’s skin, were waiting to be found in his old quarters. Mike was sure to be whacked any minute now. Soon, in a neighboring town, he’d be disguised as a regular person, selling those tubular snacks that are . . . REMARKABLY bad for everyone. And laughing, laughing at the money they PAID him to do it to them. Freedom was GRAND!

THE END

It WAS all shortly. Tony’s men were waiting in the van on the street when Granite walked out, casting a very long, oddly-shaped shadow, turned, and walked back in, looking all around confusedly. Tony’s man Chuck nodded. “They’s lookin’ to see if we’s heah, yet. Call Tony, Sam. We’re about to go in. Nobody left.”

ETS: Djinn And Tony, Part 14

Basher needed a drink. He was confused. Well, he was usually confused, but this made less sense than normal. “You want me to tell Granite to open the door, step out, turn around, and come back in? Why?”
The Shadow was hopping from pillar shadow to pillar shadow across the lobby. He felt nervous and most undignified. “It’s symbolic. I believe that you could become the Leader’s next butler. To do that, you will not be doorman anymore. You must be authoritative.”
“AuTHORitative. That’s like, pushy?”
“LIKE pushy. But more stern and quiet. You’ve seen the Leader talk quietly, haven’t you?”
“Yes?” Basher looked a lot less certain of this than he did a moment ago.
The Shadow darted a glance at the clock. “If you get this job, you will no longer be at risk for punishment at failure for away missions.” He spun around. “Careful with that, Troll! It has to be shipped tomorrow. The shipping company will pick it up off the back loading dock like the last several packages. I don’t need you to check it; I packed it myself. Go on, then! Well, Basher?”
Basher had finished thinking. He straightened. He smiled, showing all five of his teeth. “Will-that-be-all?”

Mike spun the dial of the safe remarkably quickly. He pulled out a little bottle in a gallon Ziploc baggie. It was ancient, hand-blown green glass with gilt edges, some fake rubies, and some damaged Arabian letters on the front of it. No one knew why it said ‘Dangerous’ on it in Arabic. Mike took the baggie by a corner and swung it at the safe door. It shattered in the baggie. He tossed it into the Shadow’s pitch-black hands. He blinked and the Shadow was no longer in the room. Mike hadn’t heard a thing. He froze for a moment, considering. Then he rolled his eyes. “Carpet,” he muttered. He walked to the bar opposite the safe and made a drink.

Mike groaned. “No vengeance either way, right? Get out, then.”
The Shadow’s eyes sprung open, stark white with surprise and irritation. “That’s what Tony asked for, but it’s too late. It would take me longer than an hour just to pack. Feeding my ‘delusions’ as YOU call them is a difficult thing! I have all these stretchy black garments in special laundry preparations. My makeup laboratory is a lot to pack up, too. And let’s not forget I have to walk from shadow to shadow. Besides, I would have to take EVERY shard of glass, if you even broke the bottle to free me! It’s just too late. You have to kill me.”
Mike stood. He turned to a picture on the wall. He tossed it aside to reveal a safe. “You will now promise me you WILL be packed and out the front door in fifty-eight minutes, with or without whatever is yours. You may call me and ask that the rest be brought out to you at our mutual convenience. Promise me now.”
The Shadow stood, startled. He felt the same compunction as usual. Wary of some trick, he nodded. “I promise.”