
Peter Race battles a werewolf in a strange world.
Rated: Fiction M - English - Chapters: 4 - Words: 2,885 - Published: 04-28-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3017740
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Chapter I: I meet a Goddess
In my job I meet some interesting people. Out of all the people that I met Rayna Kinsley stands out in my mind as being the most interesting. She worked part time at a convenience store. Rayna was fairly short, kinda chunky with huge breasts, and long stringy brown hair. I was in my office installing a new display case. I had recently killed a twelfth level vampire and he left behind his top hat when he turned to dust.
I was just brushing the top hat off with a horsehair brush when my very pregnant secretary came into my room.
"Your three o' clock appointment is here, Peter." She spoke while rubbing her bloated belly.
"Ok, send her on in."
And that was how Rayna Kinsley walked into my life.
"Greeting, Mr. Race. I have heard so much about you. Now that I see you, I know that you are more than capable of killing the werewolf that's been terrorizing my people."
Her voice was intriguing, for it didn't match her sloppy appearance. Her shirt was a size too tight, making her breasts look like footballs. And those pants were baggy enough to make a rap star proud.
"Killing a werewolf is so simple that I only charge five hundred dollars."
Rayna laughed sweetly. Her voice was angelic – there was no other way to describe it.
"Mr. Race, I am willing to pay five pounds in solid gold."
Gold that explained it. The woman sitting in front of me was a witch. Only the magical ones deal in gold. The precious metal was hard to convert into cash in this dimension, but in others it was the only form of money used.
I looked at the name on my desk and looked Miss Kinsley in the eyes.
"Well, that's a lot of loot. It tells me a lot about you, too."
A smile crossed Miss Kinsley's face: "Do tell, Mr. Race, let's see if you're half as good as your reputation."
"You are a witch or a sorceress and the werewolf that you want me to kill for you is immensely powerful. Have no fear though. You see that top hat in that display case over there?"
She turned her head and let out a sweet little laugh – there was a musical quality to that laugh.
"The top hat of Donovan O' Brien. I met him about three hundred years ago, in London I believe. I know this may come as a shock to you, but you'll wrong, Sherlock. I am a goddess and the werewolf is pretty weak by your standards, but powerful by my people's standards. The price is high, because of where you will have to go. It is better if you come to my place, it will be easier for me to show you than to explain it. Of course, you will be free to back out of the job once you know the details."
She smiled, got up, and walked out the door with me following her. Sarah looked up from her paperwork and I just shrugged my shoulders as I passed her desk.
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