Not your average 9 to 5.

So, it's been a while since I posted anything, and that's mainly down to the fact that A: my hard drive's still out of action, and B: I've not really had much time to myself recently since starting my new job, but I have had a few ideas here and there. These ideas have been a bit random to say the least, coming in the form of objects or phrases rather than plothooks or storylines, and just fitting a story around said thoughts. The following is one of those thoughts, the opening speach was stuck in my head for days and so I had to figure something out around it. Here's hoping something more will develop.

“Coffee, black, and sweet. And a woman, black. I don’t care if she’s sweet.”

Horatio cocked a brow and smirked at the attending waiter before waving him away. He turned his gaze to the man sat across from him. Samuel gave a tut as his eyes moved around the room, observing the numerous dancers in various states of undress and the groups of unwashed, uncivilised, leering men drooling over them as they writhed around poles, chairs, or even each other.

“What’s the matter, never seen a place like this before?” Horatio asked,

“No, I’ve seen enough. It’s the clientele that disgust me.” Samuel adjusted his tie and rested his clasped hands upon the table, “Why did you call me here?”

“Business, of course.”

“I understand that. What I meant was, why here of all places?”

A corseted woman, braided hair hanging down to her shoulders and swaying in time with her hips as she walked, made her way to their table and set down a large cup of coffee before moving to sit on Horatio’s lap and nuzzling his neck. He smiled and ran a hand over her ebony skin before taking a long look over her, “Why? Isn’t it obvious? I’m hungry!”

Without another word, he moved his lips to her own neck and licked it gently before grinning and glancing to Samuel. Horatio’s canines extended and sunk into the soft flesh of the woman, dark blood trickling from the two wounds. The woman gasped, but soon shifted from shock to pleasure as the sensation fully washed over her. Samuel had seen Horatio feed before, and it still unsettled him.

“Fine. What job is it this ti-“

Horatio raised a hand to silence Samuel whilst he finished his ‘meal’, “All in good time lad.” He licked the woman’s neck once more, sealing the two small puncture wounds. The woman stood and Horatio placed a fifty pound note into her stocking, slapping her rear as she left. He chuckled and glanced back to Samuel, “I love dining out, there’s always such a fine selection of exotic cuisine. I had a Chinese the other night that-“

“Enough! The job. What is it?” Samuel heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his chestnut hair, neatening it behind his ears before adjusting his tie once more.

“Alright, relax lad, I’m just having some fun.” He set a briefcase on the table and slid it over to Samuel. Opening it, he found files on several individuals. Samuel looked up at Horatio, an eyebrow raised inquisitively,

“This is more than usual.”

“And your pay will be more than usual too, don’t worry.”

“Did you have a deadline in mind?”

“Before Christmas would be nice, saves me buying extra cards.”

“Geez, I’d hate to see your naughty list then.” Samuel closed the briefcase and stood, taking it with him. He gave Horatio a respectful nod and fastened the buttons on his suit jacket, “Usual protocol, half up front. I’ll contact you when it’s finished.”

“That’s why I like you Sammy, you get results. You don’t ask questions. You’re open minded.”

“I’m running hit jobs for a vampire, I have to be...” he turned and left, glad to have the pounding bass and the panting masses of hound-like men behind him. Horatio was a dick, a lousy bloodsucking dick, but he paid well, and that was all that mattered to Samuel.

He walked down the crowded street and looked up and the sky. It was a cloudy night, with not a star to be seen, and just the faintest hint of the moon from behind its vaporous cloak. There was a chill on the air that was very uncharacteristic of July, but then, Samuel mused, this was Birmingham. He found himself an empty bus stop and sat down, glancing into the briefcase once more; six files, six targets. Knowing Horatio, they probably weren’t all Creepers either. He chuckled to himself. Samuel had coined that term when he first branched into this line of work, ‘Creeper’, as in something not natural, or likely to be considered creepy. It was a coverall phrase for every supernatural bug, beasty and bewilderment that he’d come across, all of the nasties from folklore and media; vampires, werewolves, ghosts, goblins, you name it, Samuel had probably met one.

He was what they referred to as an Oddman, a Fixer of sorts; he was a guy who got things done for those who would much prefer to stay out of the mortal eye. An errand boy for the creatures told about to children to give them nightmares. He still hadn’t figured out how to describe it on his C.V.

So there we have it, more from Samuel soon I hope. I already have a lot of ideas bubbling around about where I want to take him etc.

Enjoy!

Peace out and much love,

Craiggy.