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flywolfwriting · 6 months ago

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Throw Me in the Deep End - BONUS!

The votes were in and here's the confrontation from Alastor's point of view! I originally posted it with a reblog of the poll, but decided it would be better on its own.

Here ya go!

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Alastor leaned on the stool, one foot still on the ground and the other on the footrest, and waited for the man to pluck up the courage to approach him. One arm rested on the clubtop, fingertips tapping the side of his glass of rye. “What have you told him?”

Husker glanced up. “Nothin’,” he said.

Alastor hummed, considering his drink and watching the far end of the club from the corner of his eye. The other man was far less subtle. Finally he threw back whatever was in his glass and joined them.

“Let me buy you a drink?” he said.

Alastor slowly turned on his stool to look him up and down. He was short, barely reaching Alastor’s shoulders, and while he looked a mess, the way he held himself suggested it was an act. Alastor knew better, too; he knew exactly who this man was and why he was interested in him. “Mmm, I think not,” he said with a condescending smile. He finished his rye and stood to leave.

The man flushed. “I want to see Charlie,” he said, and Alastor froze.

His smile sharpened as he turned back around. “What did you say?”

The man lifted his chin. His eyes gleamed in triumph. “Charlie,” he said. “My daughter.”

Husker attempted to subtly slide away but a quick glare from his employer pinned him in place. He began scrubbing at a glass.

Alastor returned to the bar but didn’t sit, instead looming over the smaller man. “And how, pray tell, do you know my daughter?”

Lucifer’s face pulled into a scowling grimace. “I can recognize my own child, even if it’s been nearly a decade since you kidnapped her.”

“I did no such thing,” Alastor said smoothly, still smiling, “though I wonder what your intentions are, if you’ve been staking out a club to see her again.”

Something flickered over his face. “I was waiting for you, actually.”

“What led you to believe I would come back?”

Lucifer tilted his head toward Husker. “He said you’re his boss. Of course you’d come back eventually.”

Alastor looked up at Husker, his smile shifting into something more dangerous. “Did he now,” he said, almost sweetly. The bartender didn’t look up from the glass he was polishing, but Alastor could see sweat beading on his brow.

“I want to know how you came to have her, and I want her back,” Lucifer said, and when Alastor returned his gaze to him he looked uncomfortable, glancing between him and Husker. He had to commend the smaller man; despite his obvious nerves his voice remained steady.

“She’s mine,” Alastor purred, leaning down to speak directly into Lucifer’s so as to not be overheard, “and if I catch you anywhere near my daughter I will cut out your liver and make you eat it.”

When he stood upright again he was still wearing that easy smile, and Lucifer had gone pale and trembled slightly, but defiant rage smoldered in his eyes and there was a stubborn set to his jaw.

“I’d say it was a pleasure, but I’d be lying,” Alastor said, turning once again to leave. “Husker, I expect you at the house tonight.”

He received a grunt of assent.

This time he was not called back as he walked away.

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Beginning | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

#throw me in the deep end #bonus content #Hazbin hotel #hazbin Alastor #hazbin lucifer #confrontation #different pov #flywolfwriting #radioapple #fanfic #my fic #please don't repost to another site

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bunnybearblogs · 1 year ago

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The Bank Robbery

Alan Third Person POV

Alan had always loved action movies. Ever since he was a little boy he would watch every new action movie that came out with his father. He loved the strong and cool protagonist that always saved the day. One of his favorites was Die Hard. He would imagine himself as Bruce Willis crawling through the vents in the Nakatomi Plaza or as Matt Damon fighting off Treadstone operatives with only a pen. His role models included figures like Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris, and Liam Neeson.

It was no surprise to his parents when he begged for karate lessons at age ten- only to stop attending when he was thirteen. In high school he took up parkour with a group of friends. They would be found nearly everyday after school and on weekends running around downtown jumping across rails and flipping over small flights of stairs. His dream was to be a stuntman or maybe a cop. A CSI or FBI agent was cool too.

However, currently, Alan works in the stocking and unloading department at the local Walmart. He never quite got around to applying for the police academy and getting jobs as a stuntman were harder than he thought. He’ll definitely get around to achieving his dreams… someday. With his hero complex, it would serve as no surprise to those that knew Alan that when he somehow found himself in the middle of a bank robbery that he actually felt a bit of a thrill.

It was a quite normal Saturday morning at the bank. Alan stood in line with countless others waiting for a teller to open and conduct their business. There were only two tellers working this morning and seven people including Alan waiting to make deposits. There was an older couple with gray hair at one teller, taking forever since they both forgot their reading glasses and couldn’t hear worth a damn it seemed. At the other teller stood a frazzled looking mother in a server uniform trying to deposit some of her tip money while keeping her toddler wrangled. Alan was third in line, right behind a man in a business suit and a woman drinking a Starbucks coffee while scrolling through her phone. Behind him was another mother with her teenage daughter. Alan overheard that the girl would be opening her first checking account. How fun.

The quite normal Saturday morning turned quite abnormal in the span of a couple minutes. No one saw them come in, but they did notice once the guns came out and demands to get on the ground were yelled. The mothers were the quickest to move. The mother with the toddler had her child in her arms in seconds flat and was cowering against a wall, using her body to shield her kid. The other mother was huddled on the ground off to the side, clinging to her teenage daughter. Alan and the two people in front of him had gotten down where they stood while the older couple sunk down into some nearby chairs. Come on, they’re old, if they got down on the ground it would take forever to get them back up.

Alan could feel the blood rushing through his veins and pounding in his ears. Nothing ever happened on this side of town. Not really. So this sudden robbery was quite the surprise. This was the kind of thing you heard about on the news! It was only two men, one quite bulky with muscle and the other more on the scrawny side. Both were wearing those ridiculous ski masks that you always saw in movies or T.V. shows. Looking to the tellers, Alan saw that they looked fairly calm for people who had a gun trained on them. Perhaps they were trained for this sort of scenario?

The two robbers began demanding money from the tellers. Whatever they had in their tills. Was there a silent panic button under the desks like in the movies? Did one of them already press it? Alan eyed the two robbers. The bigger one was focused on the tellers and getting them to put money in the duffle bag he carried. Scrawny man was watching everyone else in the bank, making sure none of them moved or tried anything funny like making a phone call. If he moved quick enough, he could knock the scrawny guy out and use his gun against that bigger guy. Isn’t that what they do in the movies? Alan had seen it dozens of times before and he vaguely recalled the moves for disarming someone from his days in karate. It had to be like riding a bike, the muscle memory would kick in right? (Note to the readers, it does not.)

Alan began mentally planning his course of attack and hyping himself up. The woman with the Starbucks must have seen something in his eyes and figured out what he was going to do. She shook her head and tried to silently warn him not to do anything. But Alan was sure in his thinking. This could be his chance to be a hero. Get his name in the papers. Maybe it could even lead to one of his dream jobs! So, resolute, Alan readied himself to be the hero.

As Scrawny paced by, looking away from Alan at the mother and daughter duo, Alan leapt to his feet and reached for the gun. The sudden movement caught Scrawny off-guard and he let out a startled yell as Alan rammed a shoulder into the guy’s arm. Alan fumbled while trying to wrestle the gun away from Scrawny and the comotion drew the attention of the bigger guy. There were several screams and yells from the other patrons of the bank as they scrambled for cover. No one wanted to be the one to get hit with a stray bullet when the gun went off during their wrestling match.

Alan couldn’t hear much past the blood roaring in his ears and so didn’t pay much mind when Big Guy yelled at him to stop. Big Guy couldn’t shoot at Alan without possibly hitting his partner who was still wrestling with him. Alan quickly realized his muscle memory wouldn’t be kicking in and just went off instinct. He bit down on Scrawny’s hand until he released the gun. Scrawny staggered backwards, holding his bleeding hand. Alan fumbled to hold the gun correctly now that he was in possession of it. Meanwhile Big Guy was taking aim at Alan now that his partner was separated from Alan.

There was a series of shots heard. Alan wasn’t sure who fired first or if he even shot at all. He only remembered hearing two nearly simultaneous shots, the screams of everyone in the bank, then feeling the impact of something hitting him in the lower right part of his abdomen. It took a few seconds for the reality of what happened to register and his brain to process it. Big Guy had shot him. Alan expected it to hurt a lot more. In movies they were always writhing on the ground in pain.

Once the shock of the initial hit did pass, Alan felt a fierce burning pain in his abdomen where the bullet entered and tore through him. He stumbled back a step before he found himself on the ground. Alan became acutely aware of the sounds around him. The toddler was wailing, the teenager was hyperventilating, there was someone else groaning, and in the distance Alan could hear sirens approaching.

“You know, you’re incredibly foolish.” Alan focused on where those words were coming from. It was the Starbucks woman. She looked exacerbated and more than a little tense. Kneeling next to him, she used someone’s jacket to press down on his wound. It stung like a bitch. Alan hissed out in pain but the woman kept pressure.

“What about those guys?” Alan’s words sounded a bit slurred to his own ears.

“I shot the big one. Little one is cuffed.” Her words didn’t make sense. She shot Big Guy? Alan looked over the woman, trying to believe her words. There, attached to her belt was a shiny badge. Next to that on her hip was a holster for her gun. She was a detective. That was certainly a twist of events.

“Now just lay still. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes. Looks like you’re going to be okay.” Alan nodded mutely. He certainly didn’t feel okay. “Also, for future reference, don’t try that T.V. cowboy shit again. Just let the professionals handle it.”

First Person POV

Just this last errand at the bank and I get to go home. It had been a long week at the precinct and I was ready to not worry about homicides and burglaries for the next few days. I took a sip of my coffee and scrolled through my social media to pass the time. The elderly couple at teller one was taking a while. It must be so hard getting old and having your vision and hearing fade. Meanwhile at teller two that mother looked stressed beyond her limits dealing with her rambunctious toddler. I sent up a silent thank you to whoever was listening that I didn’t have any children to stress me out. My job does that enough.

“Everybody don’t move! Get on the ground!” The sudden yell nearly made me drop my Starbucks cup. That would have been a true crime. I carefully lowered myself to the floor as I eyed the two gunmen who entered. One about six foot two, likely about 200-220 lbs, muscular build, caucasian, tattoo of a skull on his right hand. The other five-five, maybe 180 lbs, also caucasian, scrawny build, tattoo on his neck. Both wearing dark clothes and black ski masks.

I filed all this away for the report and statement I would have to make later. For now, best to just let them take the money and let them leave. It was the smartest option. The tellers would have already buzzed the silent alarm and dispatch would be sending a squadron of cars to this location. The robbers wouldn’t be getting far. So long as there’s no immediate threat to the lives of one of the other bank goers then it’ll be fine.

Good thing I had my gun and badge with me even though I’m off-duty. I had nearly left them both at home but something told me to have them on me today. Always listen to your gut. That’s what my granddad always said.

I took a look at the others. The older couple were sitting in chairs across the room. The woman’s hands were shaking and her husband seemed to be trying to silently comfort her. In the corner behind me was the mother with the toddler. She had the child cradled to her, quietly shushing the toddler and rocking slightly to keep them calm. The business man that was in front of me looked ready to shit himself. The teenager was near hyperventilating while her mom held her quietly. Now for this last guy.

Wait… why does he look like he’s about to do something stupid? I could see a foolish determination in his eyes as he watched the smaller of the two robbers pace around the floor. Oh no, don’t tell me he’s thinking of being some sort of hero. He’s just going to get himself killed. I managed to catch his eye and started shaking my head. Don’t move. Just stay down. I tried to mouth to him but that just seemed to spur him on. Well shit. This guy is either brave or foolish. Probably both. I shifted my weight to my feet as subtly as I could. I had a feeling shit was about to hit the fan soon.

Honestly, sometimes I hate being right. Shit did hit the fan. The young guy jumped up at the smaller robber and began trying to wrestle the gun out of his hands. This wouldn’t end well. I tried keeping an eye on both the two wrestling for the gun and the bigger robber who’s attention was drawn by the commotion. I watched as the young guy bit into the robber’s hand and finally win the wrestle for the gun. The bigger robber was now aiming his gun at Mr. Hero and I knew it was time to act.

Just as the robber was about to fire, I popped up as I drew my gun and squeezed the trigger. Two shots went off. Mine and the robber’s. My shot landed in the leftside of his chest. The bigger guy went down. So did Mr. Hero. Seems he got hit. The smaller guy panicked and attempted to run before seeing I had my gun trained on him. In just a few moments I had him cuffed and on the ground. Time to deal with our little Hero over here.

“You know, you’re incredibly foolish.” I walk over to the downed man and quickly assess the situation. One shot to the lower abdomen, can’t tell if there is an exit wound. I slip off my jacket and ball it up before pressing firmly over the bullet wound. The guy let out a hiss of pain, but at least he was conscious.

“What about those guys?” His words were a bit slurred but that could just be because of the shock and pain.

“I shot the big one. Little one is cuffed. Now just lay still. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes. Looks like you’re going to be okay.” I figured it was a good sign if he was awake and able to speak. I could already hear the sirens getting closer. They would be here within moments and officers would take over the scene. Paramedics would see to this guy and the bigger robber.

“Also, for future reference, don’t try that T.V. cowboy shit again. Just let the professionals handle it.”

#short story #fiction #short fiction #creative writing #Different POV

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