These Vignettes

To be stared down by a looming giant is one thing, to be completely unable to read his facial expressions is another. He stares intently into his captor’s soul, as if he could read all the crimes that hide behind a mask. Claiming Nab was scared is baseless, but certainly uncomfortable? Sure. 

The man cocks his head, leaning in to squint closely at his attire. 

“Seriously gon’ wear that?” The tone was accusatory, some of the harshest criticism come from the stupidest of people. 

“What? I don’t fucking see you changing,” he shoots back.

“Don’t got other clothes t’ change into,” the man blinks, “these are work clothes.”

“Then so are mine!”

“Tha’s fair,” the lanky figure reels back, gripping onto something on his shoulder. His gaze was so empty, Nab could only dream to rival it. 

“Why are you here anyways, if I needed help I would’ve asked,” Nab was playing offense and defense with that question, hoping to poke some sort of reaction out of this guy. At least be entertaining. 

“I’m clean up,” the pale man mutters, “you do your thing and I’ll do mine.”

“Where’s the spectacle in that? This work is an art, you know,” just anything to egg him on, god just give him something to work with here, “that room is about to become a beautiful canvas.”

“That ain’t what boss ordered,” he simply retorts, “you wanted a place ‘ere, you play by the rules.”

The man leans against the wall, peering into the window, squinting hard. It’s the first time Nab has gotten a proper look at him. Deep eye bags, three scars on his face, massive ones down his neck. Then, there it is, the first hint of emotion. His teeth bare themselves, his stare growing cold and angry, his brow furrowing.

“You do your thing, I’ll do mine,” the man growls. 

“Are you two girls done fucking arguing yet,” the irritating voice of Mark grated on Nab’s ears, even earning a hiss from his ‘friend’ as he winced. 

“I’m just waitin’ on ‘im.”

“Clearly.”

“Shut up.”

“You first.”

Nab’s tall escort rolled his eyes, grinding his teeth. It’s the first time he could notice the missing incisors in the rows. His head falls back and he rolls on his neck for a moment, nails digging at his own skin, scraping down. 

“Stop doing that,” Mark ordered through the radio, “you’re doing the stupid thing you do.”

The instant those words register in this man’s head, he squeezes on his neck, instinctively choking himself. Then relaxes, refocusing his attention on Nab. 

“Ya check the bag?”

“No. I don’t need anything b—“ Pathetically, he tried to argue with this brick wall, it was no wonder he would immediately be shot down.

“Get the bag,” he demands. 

Nab grumbles, turning from the door, eyes a large duffel bag. It’s not particularly full, sitting limp and frail upon the floor. 

“What’s the big deal anyways,” he absentmindedly puzzles, scooping up the bag and beginning to open it. 

“You really haven’t gotten the whole initiation thing through your thick skull, huh,” Mark returns once again.

“I suppose I don’t see what the big deal is. My skills should’ve spoken for… for… them…” The cocky attitude fades, he can feel everything drain from his heart. 

“You see it? Good.”

The other man looms right behind Nab, he can feel his cold presence and hollow eyes staring down, watching ever so closely. 

“I don’t know what you think you are, or what you think to gain from this group,” Mark’s disgust is palpable, yet every word he said felt taunting, “because you’re not sneaky. You’re not clever. You’re a complete idiot. You have 7 minutes before he gets home due to all your fucking nonsense. Take the bat.”

Nab’s captor grasps his hand, guiding him to the handle, barely recognizing that he was trembling as he was guiding Nab. 

“Don’t fight it, buddy,” it’s the first time he’s spoken with any sincerity, “Boss’s orders.”

Clutching tightly, Nab swiftly spins on his heels, full force swinging onto this fucker with all he can muster. Were it anyone else, the damage could’ve been severe. But this haunting man telegraphed that swing long ago, having already taken a step back, letting the breeze wash over him. 

And he smiled, faintly giggling. 

“Get in there.”