Death By Cream

Nero hits the streets in his new ride, a little harder than intended....

Death By Cream

I

Spring rain blessed Bayside, with the many denizens of the bustling city moving slower that night on account of the drastic weather. What had been a light shower turned into a storm. Although denizens such as water elementals assured their friends that “it was just rain”, the lightning strikes from the surrounding black skies out in No-Man’s-Lands silenced these protests. More guards than usual patroled the city walls, not risking the chance of monsters taking advantage of the opportunity. The majority of the population either kept indoors or pretended not to be afraid of the fickle weather the planet Itsa was known for.

Only two fools stood arguing in the rain that night in Bayside.

“Explain to me how this isn’t street legal?” Nero hissed, motioning open palms towards his small vehicle. At first glance, it looked an awful lot like an ice cream cart that had been redesigned to seat a denizen. That’s because it was an ice cream cart. At least, in its former occupation. The Bayside Guard, a plump dwarf who was bald as a baby, hid beneath their umbrella hat used to shield his already waterlogged uniform, clutching a citation pad in their hand.

“I somehow doubt that, sir,” the officer of the law huffed. He fished around his wet uniform for a pen, dribbling a stream of water onto their stomach when they tilted their head forward in order to peak inside their vest pocket. Although the royal blue outfit was made of enchanted ballistic fibers, Nero found himself hoping that the metal shoulder pads would rust, watching with seething frustration as the officer began scribbling down on the citation pad.

“I have my Bayside Vehicle License,” Nero tried to explain, talking with his hands as his frustrations began to boil in the rain. At the name “Bayside”, the officer paused writing. With a cold, dead-serious stare, the clean face of the bald dwarf seemed to shine with some frivolous and over-inflated sense of public service.

“Sir….” the officer grunted. “Transvollia has many laws in place that this fine city nation may be represented properly. Not only will I have to write you a citation for driving a vehicle that is clearly not street legal, but I will also be citing you for Misrepresentation Of State.”

Nero placed his hands through his soaked, black hair. He tugged.

“Everybody calls this place Bayside, you dip!” Nero sizzled, his pale blue eyes ablaze with the magic energy coursing through him. A special friend of his had been working with him on channeling his magic, though the drawbacks were apparent in that moment. Violet flames licked Nero’s shoulders, dancing and eating away any droplets unfortunate enough to land in his vicinity.

“That’s another citation,” the officer said, writing out his third ticket. “Provoking an officer.”

“You’re provoking me you a*****e!” Nero screamed, the flames bursting from his being. Like a bonfire, Nero’s body became a beacon of purple light. The violet flames confined itself into a pillar of fire that surrounded Nero.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you that arguing with an officer is a bad idea?” the Transvollian guard spat, not phased by the light display Nero had put on. The human drenched in purple flame blinked; Nero came back to his senses, with the flames dying down.

“I….” Nero coughed, trying to pull his energy back to him. “I’m sorry…..”

Nero let the flame die out, with his own internal fire dwindling. The officer finished writing his citations, handing a small stack to Nero. There were about eight of them, all getting wet from the downpour. Nero stuffed the citations into his jacket, looking back to the vehicle he stood beside.

Raindrops ran along the domed, translucent protective cover over his custom ride. The name Death By Cream was written against the red bodied ride adorned with thick, second-hand tires Nero was able to score at a discount. His eyes ran along the side, then glanced back to the officer, who was getting back into their tiny two-seated car. It looked like a sedan cut in half, somehow retaining it’s balance only on three wheels. A royal blue and brilliant gold light fluttered from the officer lights on top of the mini car, that slowly drove away.

Before the officer did, however, they checked their backseat, as if ensuring something was still there. Once satisfied, the dwarf guard drove off.

With his head hung low, Nero grabbed the handle of the push cart ice cream trolley he had turned into a potentially valuable asset. As he pushed his ride along in the rain, three frog-folk children were seen jumping in the various puddles along the cobblestone street, with their mother yelling at them to get back inside as Nero pushed his way along.

Nero didn’t necessarily blame her. If he was in her shoes, he probably would have assumed worse of a human in dark clothes, pushing an ice cream cart with the name “Death By Cream” on the side of it. His face cringed a little, wondering if the name had been a mistake. Then he chuckled to himself. It was funny, and not meant to be taken seriously.

That…. And it was more true than one would assume at first glance.

Again, Nero found himself rubber necking to the right of his cart, then to the left, wondering how the officer missed such an obvious thing. Anyone with working eyes could see the sides of the cart now had opening doors. Large ones, on each side. Under normal circumstances, nothing would be in there other than perhaps pedals, a motor, and Nero’s backside. But even living in a world of magic, people forgot to think magically. For once in his life, Nero was thankful for this. The officer probably would have lost his mind if he knew about the-

Nero’s train of thought was derailed by the sight of blue and gold lights shimmering in the distance. At first, Nero assumed the guard was returning to offer yet another ticket. But the officer was now backtracking down the road. Nero could see the fear in his wide, bloodshot eyes. The guard in the mini car was accelerating.

“Whoa, Whoa, WHOA!” Nero screamed, having to leap backwards as the three-wheeled vehicle zipped down the street. Nero shook his head, tossing his hands in the air.

“Oh, so this a*****e can just do whatever he-”

A sedan covered in black, rusted metal flew by, every inch covered in spikes.

An SUV flew past Nero on the street, having a mounted gun on the hood.

And then another, being a white truck with a mounted gun on the back.

“Yeeeaaa~” was all Nero managed to catch from the denizen who clutched the gun in the bed of the truck.

It took a solid four seconds for Nero to realize what was going on, with his mouth opening.

“Oooooh….” Nero nodded. Then, an idea hit him. Nero looked to the heavens above, making a heart with his hands. “Thank you!” He rushed to his cart, then paused before popping open the hood. He again looked to the heavens. “Oh, and make sure I don’t die, please. That would suck.”

Nero looked down, seeing a family of frog-folk standing inside their home, huddled by the window, staring at Nero.

“Right,” he muttered to himself. “Focus.”

He popped the top, leaping inside. Closing it, Nero could hear the rain hit the top, soon to be drowned out by the noise of the magic engine firing up. Reaching forward to a panel of switches, Nero began flipping one here and one there, soon with the Death By Cream extending out its wheels for better control. Two panels on the back of the cart opened, with metal exhausts extending. Once again violet flames met the streets of Bayside, firing out the back of the cart as Nero skid 180 degrees, flooring the pedal. The two front, thick wheels bucked upward as Nero flew down the street, hands gripping the steering wheel as he drove off to the rescue.

II

Like a story from the Old World, angels and demons flew among the sky. However, unlike the Old World, these denizens worked together to ensure live coverage ensued. Celestial denizens alike flapped their wings, holding cameras above the streets, witnessing the live news footage for themselves. Various small news outlets tried to take advantage of this breaking story by sending their own denizens who were able and brave enough to traverse the ink-black skies.

The celestial denizens who were associated with the major news networks spent half of their manpower casting spells to protect their camera operators, with the other half attempting to get a good angle on the speeding vehicles zooming through the streets. What was thought to be a quick pursuit turned into a lengthy display of carnage shown on every active entertainment screen in Bayside.

There was a collective of 1,787 written complaints from children and parents alike, expressing their frustrations towards TLS (Transvoilla Local Station) for cutting out in the middle of the new episode of Princess Unicorn Girl for, what many wrote was, “a criminal offense” for not telling them how the episode ended.

Clover normally didn’t watch the news. It was too depressing. But sometimes, having a show on made the experience of working in solitude more bearable. It was lonely being a sorceress who worked from home sometimes. Especially when her best friend hadn’t texted her back. The elf checked her phone for the twenty-third time before finally tossing it on the other side of her couch, having given up hope on a project that had consumed most of her week.

She crossed her thin legs, curled in her cartoon themed unicorn robe, a spell book in hand. Her eyes moved through the various notes she had added to the sides of the page. Trying to reconstruct a spell lost to the sands of time was no easy task. But she was good at what she did. And was paid well, too. But even if she had the luxury of having the life she wanted, the hours were long. And although she loved the work she did, Clover’s social life took a loss. It was hard to keep up with friends. It was impossible to even consider being in a committed relationship; it wouldn’t be fair to either partner.

There was a special human in her life though. They considered each other good friends.

Good friends who happened to physically appreciate one another just as they did emotionally.

Nero was a good guy. Maybe a little immature at times, but his heart was in the right place. Clover’s eyes were set on her entertainment screen resting on its carved wooden stand. She was only half watching, really. Half watching, half reading, half glancing at her phone on the other end of the couch, and half thinking about Nero.

They were supposed to hang out that night. He’d told her he had something “f*****g awesome” to show her, and he had spent an entire week working on. Even during their magic lessons (just another excuse for Clover to see him, if she was being honest with herself), he made life…. Better. He listened. He was genuinely encouraging of her profession. He would always do his best to make time for her, even as busy as his life was.

Clover shook her head, caught within her own mind. She reached up, releasing her golden hair from it’s bun, letting it fall over her shoulders. Her golden eyes began to leak with tears as she considered that maybe he just didn’t want to talk to her. He had that right. Everyone did. Clover had to admit she herself was terrible at texting people back, or even making a phone call. Maybe Nero was tired of always feeling like he lead the conversation?

Princess Unicorn Girl was on screen, animated with golden lights shining in her eyes during a scene where her friend, Chonki the mouse, offered her a piece of glowing cake. Every so often, the show would animate Princess Unicorn Girl’s eyes to shine gold with excitement. Nero had once laughed about how Princess Unicorn Girl’s eyes looked like Clover’s when she was excited about something. It was on one of the many nights he had stayed over, while under the influence of two beers and too much THC.

A tear ran down her cheek.

The episode vanished in an instant, with a live broadcast cutting onto screen.

“Denizens of bayside, we are LIVE, on the scene of what is an active chase between vehicles. Lock your doors, stay inside, and use protective magic if you have it; I’ve never seen anything like this. I- Oh WHOA!

Clover’s jaw dropped, seeing footage of the smallest little car she had ever seen, zooming through the Civil District on the north-east quadrant of the city. The name of the district was misleading, considering it was anything but civil. One of the seediest places in the entire city, filled with dilapidated homes made of wood and metal. It was also filled with warehouses, pubs, gambling halls, sex clubs, and any other place you could imagine getting stabbed at three in the morning. Crime always happened in the Civil District. But Clover found it impossible to look away.

Behind the mini car was a normal looking one, a big black one, and a truck with a horse-folk on the back of it. They wore a white, dirty tank top, flipping off one of the angels who was seen holding a camera in frame. It cut to the angel’s footage who had received the middle finger, getting a good view of the three cars chasing the little one.

Then…. There was that f*****g ice cream cart.

And Nero’s face, zoomed in on frame, hunched forward in what appeared to be his surprise, for the whole city of Bayside to see.

“Hang on a second, I think I know that guy,” the announcer spoke. “Yeah, that’s a local Mercenary!”

“Oh gods….” Clover shook. She stood, not knowing why she stood in the first place. “Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods….”

In the corner of her room rest her working alter, which had been cleared after a long night of incantation for the project she was working on. Clover rushed, her Unicorn Girl robe bouncing with her body as she fumbled for the corner of her alter. She lightly began to scoot it along the carpeted floor of her living room, bumping it into an obsidian statue of an Old World deity that happily rested beside her entertainment setup.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Anubis!” Clover squeaked, giving the large carved statue of the deity a kiss on the head before continuing to scoot her alter. She set it before the TV, soon rushing off to find candles. With a handful of supplies, she poured them onto the working alter, doing her best to get what she needed organized.

“Nero, I’m gonna kill you if you get yourself killed….” she huffed to herself, trying to reclaim her focus. As she prepared her ceremonial magic, Clover’s eyes caught the screen one last time before she placed herself into a trance.

The words Death By Cream were on the side of the cart that Nero drove, with the current feed seeming to focus on that, right when Clover had to get serious about her work.

It took every ounce of will she had not to laugh, keeping her focus.

“Of course he would name it that,” was the final thought Clover allowed before she began to channel her magic.

III

Music played inside the dome of the Death By Cream as Nero bobbed his head along to his set playlist playing through his phone, which was mounted by a magic holder near the side of his steering wheel for easy access. He continued to follow the suspects. His thumbs tapped the steering wheel as he zoomed along the street, keeping his focus on the road rather than opening fire.

The horse-folk on the turret hadn’t opened fire yet, so Nero followed suit. But the chase continued, soon with the rules of engagement changing.

Along the long road the officer who ticketed him continued to race, Nero could see the tiny mini car with the lights still flashing blue and gold. Other officers were starting to arrive on the scene, with armored sedans of royal blue and gold flashing their matching lights as they rounded the Civil District.

But that didn’t seem to stop the pursuers.

“Let’s par-tay!” the horse-folk in the tank top shouted, his green cargo pants fluttering in the wind at their current speed. His voice was loud enough to carry all the way to Nero, even behind the dome and hum of the motor.

The little car popped up into the air when the front accidentally hit the curb, the dwarf officer so panicked he couldn’t seem to drive in a straight line. He edged onto the sidewalk, with the black sedan right behind. The two cars drove along the wide sidewalk lined with empty stalls and tables set up by denizens throwing dice, all obliterated by the front of the small mini car that seemed to be fueled by the gods themselves.

The speed in which it accelerated in order to escape was impressive, skirting around the corner to another street in the hopes of salvation.

Three sedans pulled onto the street, trying to block the street as the cars continued to barrel forward. One of the officers, an owl-folk who looked like they’d been up for days, began speaking over the loud speaker.

“Stop your vehicles NOW!” The officer demanded.

The line of cars was smashed through by the sedan with the spikes, with a shimmer of gold magic surrounding the car upon impact. It acted like it drove through a bug instead of armor plated vehicles.

Nero’s eyes widened, seeing the crimson pools draining from what was left of the cars that had been launched into the side of a warehouse. He zoomed by, still on the tail of the now killers. With this, Nero flipped another switch on the panel board.

From each side of the Death By Cream doors opened. Two massive, cycling machine guns extended, from a space that shouldn’t have been possible. But with magic and dimensional storage, all things are possible, as Nero had discovered from the mechanic he paid to turn his ice cream cart into a hot rod. His thumbs pressed the buttons on each side of the wheel, with the guns beginning to spin.

Bullets tore into the truck, with the gunner on the back turning into red paste before he could yeehaw ever again. Rain and lead mixed, with steam from the heat of the guns leaving a trail behind the Death By Cream. The cart rattled as Nero continued to hold down the buttons, a burst of rainbow flames exploding as .50 caliber rounds tore through what was sure to be its magic engine. Like a ball of raving light, what remained of truck tumbled along the side of the street, crashing around a light pole.

The sedan with spikes and the SUV with the mounted gun stayed close behind the mini patrol car, whose driver continued to drive with panic throughout the seedy district. Nero began to catch up, catching the sight of the cars taking a hard left, driving the outer loop freeway that lined the protective wall of the city, as well as connected each district.

The Transvollia Loop was empty, aside from those involved with the pursuit. The Transvollian Guards had done their best to block the road that lead from cobble stone to the copper highway that consisted of the loop. Nero watched as the mini car slipped past the barricade of cars, which were only to be crushed like the last ones by the sedan with spikes.

Nero followed, trying to keep up as his tires met the magic copper road of the freeway. The magic of copper freeway made the traction better, even in the rain. Although Nero had never intended to take the Death By Cream on the Transvollia Loop, he was certain the engine could keep up.

The four open lanes of the freeway were showered in flashing lights. The storm above continued to rage, with lighting striking the skies in its wrath. A small army of guard cars were joined in pursuit of the suspects, accompanied by Nero’s cart. As Nero led the pack, he fiddled with the panel of switches, trying to get a better lock on the SUV he was nearing. As he flipped a switch, his saw the SUV open it’s back.

Two horse-folk with rifles opened fire.

A bullet tore through the dome, making Nero swerve. He felt something wet running down the side of his neck, reaching with his fingers to find that it was his own blood. The bullet came mere inches from being a fatal shot, only grazing him. As he tried to keep steady, another bullet tore into a tire, popping it.

Nero’s ride went flying in a spiral….

Soaring through the air….

Time seemed to crawl by as Nero saw the world spin around him. The top of the dome of Death By Cream opened. His body went flying. As time continued to drip by, Nero found himself confused as his limp body was flung from the cart. He blinked his eyes, still floating through the air, with time itself moving at the speed of a lazy sloth-folk on holiday.

Even the rain moved like molasses as it fell to the copper road of the Transvollia Loop. Nero watched as his body flew past the lanes, with a blooming explosion emerging from the cart as it finally burst into a rainbow of flames. In horror, caught in what seemed like a new reality, Nero reached out his hand, moving his lips.

“MMMMmmmmyyyyyy baaaaaabyyyy!” Nero cried as time drug its feet.

Nero felt his body smash through the glass of a car window as time resumed

IV

Officer Guboy clenched his sharp teeth as he watched the b******s tear their way through yet another line of cars. In all his years as a Transvollia guard, he had never seen a car tear through another vehicle like a knife through butter. Magic, like always, was assisting criminals. Mason forced himself to save political lectures for his next letter to the Transvollian Counsil, assuming he would survive that long. He raced behind the other officers, who seemed to be following someone who was helping.

Clearly, it had to have been a mercenary. Nobody else would have been caught dead driving a stupid go-kart with guns. Like protocol stated, the officers had remained their distance, letting the unknown mercenary take the lead. Mason continued his way up the copper ramp of the Transvollia Loop, his car bouncing a little when the magic took hold of his wheels.

As he sped along the open highway that circled the city, Mason Guboy continued to hold the steering wheel of his car with a death grip. Some of the officers seemed to be losing patience with the mercenary, trying to move around the side in order to get an angle on the suspects. Also feeling concerned about following along, Mason wanted to put this to an end.

He sped up behind another officer, who was following the chain of cars trying to move past the strange ice cream cart car. Mason found himself a few lanes removed from the mercenary trying to aim their mounted guns at the SUV. He couldn’t help but turn to look at that stupid-

Mason let out a curse when he saw the SUV open the back, with gunfire pelting the cart. Within what felt like less than a second, he let out another curse, far louder than the last, when his passenger side window shattered.

There was a human in a drenched wool jacket, black jeans, and a black balistic vest. Adorned in darkness, this human with matching, messy hair sat on their back, half of their body still sticking out of the car window. Somehow, the glass has shattered perfectly, without a cut on him. However, the human appeared dazed and confused as to how they had gotten in the car.

“What the f**k?!” Mason hollered.

“Uh….” Nero blinked, feet still being pelted by the storm outside, the wind resistance against his legs taking a tole on his spine. “This is weird.”

He pulled himself in, apologizing when his elbow bumped into Mason’s snout.

“How the f**k did you get in here?” Mason yelled once more.

“They blew up my f*****g ride!” Nero yelled, pointing at the SUV. “I dunno what happened other than that, but somebody out there is keeping me alive.”

Nero looked up to the skies, seeing all the cameras.

“Oh, dude, we’re on the news!”

“Yeah, you think?!” Officer Guboy barked.

“Cool markings by the way,” Nero mentioned, pointing at the dog-folks fur. “Kinda looks like those Old World German Shepards.”

“Do you always talk this much when you’re thrown through a window?” Mason screamed in his face. “This is an active crime!”

“Yeah, I know!” Nero hollered back, reaching for his sidearm on his hip. “I’m well aware of that! And for your information, I talk as much as I like, whether I’m thrown through a window or not!”

“Driving around a f*****g ice cream cart on wheels, no less!” the officer hollered. “Look, son, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but- HEY!”

Nero began to open fire, with a green laser honing in on his targets. A bullet tore through one of the rifle denizens in the back of the SUV, with their body tumbling onto the copper loop. At such a high speed, the horse-folk body bounced a little before it was struck by an officers car. Nero continued to fire, sitting on the broken door window, holding on to the handle inside.

“You sons of b*****s destroyed my ride!” Nero screamed, rain and wind pelting his eyes. Squinting, Nero bagged another body, firing a round clean through their heart. The dead horse-folk clung to their wound as they fell back into the SUV, writhing in pain in the back as the driver swerved. As an officer attempted to slam into the side of the SUV with their car, the dying denizen went flying from the back, presumably dying on impact when their skull met copper at such a high speed.

The SUV lost a lot of ground was starting to swerve a little more as officers tried to box it in.

Nero pulled back into the car, eyes completely shut.

“The hell are you doing, son?” Mason barked once more, feeling his heart rate spike.

“I couldn’t see s**t.” Nero coughed, trying to clean his wet face with an even more wet coat arm. His wool coat only doused his face with even more water, making Nero cough.

“By the gods, kid,” Mason scoffed, tossing him paper napkins from an unused drink holder. “How did you managed to get those shots if you couldn’t see.”

Nero wiped his face with a handful of napkins, blinking his eyes open.

“Wait, I hit them?” Nero sounded surprised. “Well, that worked out then. I was just pissed and wanted them to know it.”

“So you climbed up on the door and-” Mason stopped himself. “You know what, this day is already weird enough as is, and normally I wouldn’t insult a civilian-”

“Mercenary,” Nero corrected, but was over spoken.

“-but that is possibly the dumbest s**t I’ve ever seen a human do.”

“Says the guy who looks like he sticks his head out of the car every chance he gets,” Nero hissed back, reloading his pistol. He exchanged magazines from the front of his best, also opening a side pouch container for a home brew potion. He downed it, as the officer gripped the wheel of his car even tighter, still in hot pursuit of the remaining car chasing his fellow officer.”

“Oh, nice,” Mason scoffed, staying close behind two other officers who were inches closer to the spiked sedan. “Real classy. You’re a real piece of work, you know that, stranger?”

“I’ve already argued with one guard today, I’ll argue with another,” Nero warned, training his aim with both hands as he pushed back in his seat. “Keep this thing steady and I might be able to-”

Mason, swerved the car a little to the right, making Nero jerk. The human turned to the dog-folk, glaring.

“If you honestly think you can hit the driver in that thing, this far away, you really do have the intelligence of a human.”

“Okay, wow,” Nero scoffed, lowering his weapon, hearing the siren of the mini car down the freeway still blaring their alarm. “So you guys really are racist, huh?”

“Says the race that turned Earth into Itsa,” Mason belted out, moving closer to the spiked black car. The remaining car kept their focus on the mini, despite the SUV still being boxed in by other officers, now nowhere to be seen on the highway.

Nero’s jaw dropped.

“Too far, man,” Nero said in disbelief. “Too far.”

“Don’t call me man,” Mason barked, getting even closer to the spiked car.

“Okay, how about a*s sniffer!” Nero remarked, taking aim at the sedan again. Mason withheld his brewing insults, wheels still spinning along the copper freeway.

“Be advised,” someone over the car radio spoke “We have apprehended the suspect in the SUV.”

“At least there’s some good news,” Mason grumbled, mere feet away from the spiked car by this point.

“Keep her steady!” Nero hollered, firing rounds at the driver side window of the spiked sedan. The black beast of a car swerved to the left towards them, with Mason forced to swerve away. The sedan kept its distance, with the little mini car still hauling a*s down the freeway. The little lights of the mini car fluttered their colors, with the siren still crying out to the night for help.

“I don’t think I can risk getting any closer, son,” Mason explained, keeping his eyes half on the road and half on the target. “He hits us, we’re as good as dead.”

The freeway, only going counterclockwise through the city, seemed to be a dead end for the driver chasing the dwarf in the mini car. A small army of police cars tailed behind the scene, with Officer Guboy and Nero in the thick of it. Nero held onto the handle by the top of his door, trying to steady himself as he fired a bullet at the back of the black, spiked sedan.

It did a whole lot of nothing.

“S**t!” Mason yelled, seeing the mini try to exit off the freeway. They had made it all the way to the Vampire District on the north-west part of the city. Sure enough, the same play repeated itself. The mini managed to slip by the line of cars trying to block the exit, only to be smashed through by the suspect. Mason cursed for the hundredth time that night, following the wreckage and tire marks of the vehicle.

“Who the hell did this officer piss off?” Mason speculated, having to make a sharp turn to avoid hitting a light post.

“If you met him, you’d understand,” Nero huffed, reloading another fresh magazine into his laser-sighted pistol.

“The f**k does that even mean?”

“Just drive!” Nero yelled.

Mason skid his car along the off ramp of the copper freeway, with the magic traction letting go of his wheels. Once again on cobblestone streets, Mason kept his sights locked onto the back of the black sedan, refusing to take his eyes off the narrow streets of the high-end space within the city.

But mistakes were made.

The mini car took a wrong turn, finding themselves driving right towards a brick wall. They stopped their car, with a handful of flying camera operators still filming the action. As the mini car tried to turn around, it came face to face with the black sedan as it revved its engine down the dead end road.

“Oh, that’s probably not good at all,” Nero mentioned, seeing this as they turned the corner. Mason slammed on the breaks, seeing his fellow officer wearing an umbrella hat fall out of the passenger side door, scrambling towards one of the alleys. His mini was crushed like an empty tin can, with the black sedan smashing it into the wall. The sedan itself seemed fine, but the car stopped.

Mason and Nero pulled out of their ride, both with pistols drawn as they hid behind the doors of the guard car.

“LET ME SEE THOSE HANDS!” Mason barked through the storm. Lightning struck the distant skies as he made his demands. Nero held his stance, keeping his finger on the trigger.

The car doors opened. Slowly, four denizen exited the car. Their hands raised in the air.

Three of the four horse-folk who pulled out were dressed in black suits. The one that appeared to be the leader of their little operation was dressed in a red one. His mane of hair was pulled back into a pony tail. Under normal conditions, perhaps Nero would have made a joke in light of the stressful situation. But instead he found himself fighting the natural instinct to open fire at the a******s responsible for destroying his ride. Officer Guboy had daggers in his eyes, showing his teeth.

“On your knees, now!” Mason demanded.

“I’m afraid that isn’t going to be an option,” the horse-folk in the red suit chuckled, hands raised with his men still. “This is all one big misunderstanding.”

“Was it a misunderstanding when you blew up my f*****g ride?!” Nero yelled.

“Enough,” Mason spat at his unexpected (and unwanted) human companion. “We don’t need this escalating anymore than it-- where the hell are you going?”

Nero began stomping forward in the rain, gun still in hand. The horse-folk in the red suit continued to speak as Nero marched down the road towards them.

The horse denizen continued to speak, Nero still marching.

“Get back here, right NOW!” Mason yelled to Nero.

“You might want to listen to the officer,” the big bad boss in the red suit added. “I have many powerful-”

Nero kept eye contact with the leader, interrupting him by firing a bullet into his knee.

He screamed.

As the other horse-folk in black suits considered defending their boss, Nero shoved his still hot pistol beneath the neck of one of them that tried making a move for his gun. Nero looked the denizen dead in the eye, as if begging him to give the human a reason to blow horse brains all over cobblestone. Officers were quick to rush to the scene, with the horse-folks in black suits being detained by other officers. The leader of the band of horse-folks was still on the wet cobblestone street, with their only comfort being the rain pelting them from above as they rolled about on the ground in terrible agony.

“YOU SHOT MY F*****G LEG!”

“I have shot your face!” Nero threatened, straddling on top of the horse-folk bleeding all over the street. “You know how much that thing cost?! I was gonna show my best-”

Nero stopped.

“Best friend….” Nero finished, looking up to the cameras.

Every single on of them were on him.

He was supposed to be meeting with Clover. That was the entire reason he drove the Death By Cream in the first place.

Nero pulled off of the horse-denizen, who seemed like they could breathe a little more with Nero’s gun out of their face. But in a rush of anger, Nero turned, giving a hard kick to their ribs. Then another. And another.

“You f*****g piece of s**t!” Nero screamed. “You ruined everything! EVERYTHING!”

“That’s enough, son, he’s done,” Mason told him, pulling Nero away. “We’re done. It’s over.”

V

Clover kept the working alter in front of the entertainment screen, watching the news footage being played on repeat. Her work had been successful. The last scene of the footage was of Nero, screaming something as he kicked a denizen who caused the mess in the ribs. Repeatedly. The news casters were rambling on about speculations. Clover didn’t care what they thought, she wanted to know what happened to Nero.

She had called him a dozen times since the feed was cut. Still no answer.

The news anchors kept babbling.

“….when in reality this is an issue of ethics,” the vampire on screen spoke. His face looked extra white. Probably the makeup department, Clover considered.

“Ethics?” a fire elemental flamed from the other side of the table. “A career criminal tries to steal an artifact from the back of an a Transvollian Guards car, and this is about ethics?!”

“I think we need to agree rather than disagree,” a large bear-folk woman spoke, lifting her hands to both angered guests of the segment. “I think we can both agree that was happened tonight was a BAD thing.”

Clover rolled her eyes, unable to help but change the channel. All she was able to ascertain was an officer picked the wrong car to drive that morning, with some mysterious artifact stashed in their car. As for how it got there, and who was responsible for what, there was no telling. Just needless violence that had seeped its way into Bayside.

There was a knock at her door.

Like a stoned cheetah-folk expecting a pizza delivery, Clover ran to the door, throwing it open.

Before her was the saddest, most pathetic looking human she had ever seen in her life.

In his hands was all the remained of his surprise: the siding of his cart after it had exploded. Standing behind Nero was a dog-folk guard who looked conflicted, standing behind, holding his hands in front of him.

Nero had been crying. A lot, according to how red his eyes were, and how much he sniffled. She had never known Nero to cry ever since they met. This was a human who had been shot at, gnawed on by rats, beaten up by various thugs, with a longer list of injuries he had overcome and shrugged off. But the emotional hell Nero expressed upon his face, sniveling as he held what remained of his surprise, was almost too hard to look at.

Nero looked up at her, with snot on his face.

“My phone blewed up,” Nero struggled, bursting into another fit of crying. Saying “blewed up” might not have been intentional for Nero, but his emotional state didn’t bother working with refined Common. There was a general understanding that Nero’s phone went up in flames with everything else in his ice cream hot rod.

Not caring how soaked and dirty Nero was after a long day, Clover pulled him to her, hugging Nero tight, even as he held what remained of his ride.

“It’s okay,” she told him, rubbing his back through his wet wool coat. “I was so worried about you….”

“I thought you were never going to talk to me again!” Nero sobbed into her chest. “I swear, I was gonna call you, but then some dickhead told me it my ride wasn’t street legal, and then those guys started chasing the dickhead, then it was all-” Nero started making noises, trying to imitate both explosions and lightning. “-and then, and then, and-”

Nero couldn’t finish before sobbing even harder.

“They shot the tire, and it all went-” again, Nero tried to explain his story by using sounds, but Clover cut him off with a kiss on the lips. He seemed to settle after that. Nero cringed a little, seeing Clover wince at the taste of his lips.

“I’m so gross right now, I’m sorry,” Nero sniffled. “You never got to see my new ride….”

“I saw it on the news,” Clover assured him, the elf giving him a little kiss on the forehead. It wasn’t much better. “How about you go take a shower and I’ll see if I have any of your old clothes you left here.”

“Thank you, officer a*s sniffer….” Nero mentioned before trudging through the front door, making his way down the hall towards her bathroom.

“I don’t think he was referring to you,” Mason Guboy spoke, getting Clover’s attention. The elf and the dog-folk stood on opposite sides of the doorway into her home, but Clover offered to invite the guard inside for a while. He politely declined.

“I gotta get home to the wife and kids,” Mason told her. “I just offered to give the poor human a ride. The fact that he lived through tonight is a testament in itself. I take it you saw the news?”

“Sorry about your car window,” Clover mentioned, casually glancing over her shoulder to one of the many candles lit on the working alter. The officer looked over to where she was looking, then to the TV. He smiled a little. On the side of every candle was Nero’s name, written in ink as black as the skies that night.

“You really care about him, huh?” the officer laughed, scratching behind his own ear. “Ain’t that something….”

“We’re just friends,” Clover assured, giving a forced smile. “You see, I work too much to-”

The officer waved his hand, as if telling her she didn’t need to explain.

“Look,” the officer laughed. “He’s not in trouble, he’s alive, and he did a good thing tonight. Maybe he could have avoided firing a live round into the suspects leg, but-”

“Mother f****r had it comin!” Nero shouted from down the hall, with the bathroom door open. It was soon closed, with the shower turning on. The officer put a hand on his snout, holding it closed so laughter didn’t slip out.

“He really is a good denizen,” Clover said to the officer. Mason, in response, sighed.

“That’s why its so frustrating,” the officer said. “Turns out this human has a bit of a reputation for being a relatable mercenary in Bayside. And I’m glad he’s got friends to watch his back like you did.”

Clover looked once more to the candles she had lit, clearing her throat when she looked to Officer Guboy.

“I wasn’t expecting the magic to throw him through your car window,” Clover clarified.

“I’m kinda glad it did,” the officer chuckled. “Hell of a human to meet. You have yourself a good night, ma’am.”

As they said their goodbyes, Clover closed the door, with a smile on her face.

“Cloooooover….” Nero hollered from the bathroom.

“Yes, Nero?” she shouted back.

“You know that silly, stupid show we like to watch when we’re trashed?”

“Yeah?”

There was a silent pause from within the bathroom, with the shower still running.

“Can I stay the night?” Nero called out from the bathroom, sounding sheepish about his request.

“You had an officer drop you off here and you didn’t think I was going to let you?” Clover giggled, moving closer to the bathroom. She crossed her arms, smiling, leaning against the side of the wall by the door.

“…. I can walk home….” Nero mentioned.

“After you ignored me all day?”

“I didn’t mean for my phone to explode inside the car!” Nero protested.

“I’m f*****g with you, Nero.”

There was another pause.

“Speaking of which….” Nero started.

“I’ll grab some wine,” Clover smiled, giddy as could be as she hurried off to grab glasses.

Later reports suggest that there was no artifact of any kind in the mini car that had been chased that night, with the surviving suspects confessing that they had been working off of bad information. Although as to their leader, the officer involved, and what kind of artifact could have been worth such trouble, no additional information has been released to the public at this time.

There was, however, a noise complaint made in the Vampire distinct. Although the posh district was known for conflated complaints, the report stated loud noises coming from the house where a respected elf sorceress lived. An officer who had been reported dropping off the human mercenary known as Nero returned to the source of the noise complaint, responded to said complaint, only to report on record:

“I really didn’t need to that.”

signed, Guard, Rank Officer, Mason E. Guboy

Author's Note

This story is loosely weaved with the others in this "book" project. If you're curious to know more about Nero, Bayside, and the strange world it takes place in, check out the other stories. Each sequential chapter weaves together a larger tale, though each story can be read on their own independently. Read "An Introduction" within this book for more details.

Reviews

[living lavender]

i don't think i smiled or laughed with any other chapter as much as i did with this one.
"Says the guy who looks like he sticks his head out of the car every chance he gets."
nearly died when i read that line. lol. so good. from start to finish.

can't wait for the next chapter. {no rush.}

[Kane Hagwood]

I'm both excited and relieved you enjoyed this little installment. Not gonna lie, I worried I made it too long, but I had so much fun writing it, I couldn't help but commit to it and put it out there. I'm hoping to write something a little shorter next time. And then, I have plans for more "dirty" chapters. Like, completely optional stories, but only a handful of deviants would be able to find them haha.

Thank you, Lav!