Dirk Slander: Man with a Mission :: Short Story Stories Essays

Dirk Slander: Man with a Mission "Move your slag Princess!" The henchmen shouted at Princess Bithics, pushing her roughly with the end of his gun. The princess stumbled up the step in front of her and banged her knee on the ground. Dirk Slander struggled in his bonds to move toward her, but his captor tightened the grip on Dirk's neck, and punched Dirk in the back to quite him down. "None of that." A scratchy voice whispered in his ear. The man's hot breath floated over Dirk's shoulder and assaulted his nose; it smelled of old wine and rotten eggs. "You be a good boy Mr. Slander, or I tell Randolph there to give your Princess the once over." The man punched Dirk in the back again to make his point. Dirk gritted his teeth and grunted, but didn't cry out. Relaxing a bit, he allowed himself to be pulled back from the princess. She staggered to her feet, tentatively tested the bruised knee, and continued up the stone steps, now walking with a small limp. Dirk had no doubts she was in pain. Sweat beaded around her temples, causing her fine black bangs to stick to her forehead. Dirt was smeared on her cheeks, and blood from her bottom lip trailed off the corner of her mouth down her small but determined chin. She looked nothing like the Princess of Casmir, in fact Dirk would have thought her a different girl entirely if her eyes still didn't hold that radiating icy glare. Dirk had to admire her spirit; most women would be a bubbling mass of emotion by now. The princess had moxy, no doubt about it. "How much of the treasure did Gorgonzola promise you?" Dirk asked the man behind him, keeping one eye on the princess. "He promised me enough, don't you worry about that." Bree answered, and jabbed Dirk with the end of his pistol. Dirk grunted again, but managed to keep his footing. "Watching you die is all the payment I need." "You really think Gorgonzola is going to split with you? What's to stop him from double crossing you the way he double crossed us?" Dirk asked. While he talked, he tested his bonds. He hoped Bree couldn't see him struggling in the darkening twilight. "Mr. Slander I never trust anyone." Bree said, his voice sounded bored and tired. "Which is why I'm the one with the gun and you're the one marching to your death.