The deed was done. The reassuring sound of a body thumping on the floor confirmed what didn't need confirming.

He wiped off stale alcohol from his hands on his leather pants, frowning as he did. The ghoul he had just tossed out had been covered in beer, after Ahzrukhal smashed a full bottle over his head. The reason?... he didn't know, nor did he care. It had not been the first time and more then likley not the last the man would give some drunk ghoul a concussion.

Charon had not been paying attention when the 'accident' occurred and only when his employer yelled for his assistance did he turn his attention to the scene. It was, now that he thought of it, rather amusing. Considering what he had for entertainment these days it was probably the funniest fuckin' thing he'd seen all month.

No sooner had the deed been done and he began to settled back into his corner did Ahzrukhal give him the 'come here' gesture with one finger. The slimy ghoul's elbow was on the bar, leaning into the dirty counter with eyes suspiciously on the door. For some reason the gesture alone instilled a feeling of utter disgust in him. His 'employer' was nothing less then the epitome of sleeze and moral degradation. He couldn't look any worse.

Though despite these feeling of hatred he trudged up to his employer, standing in front of the 'now' empty bar. Ahzrukhal didn't look at him as he began to speak.

"Got somethin' I need you to take care of for me." The ghoul still looked at the door. His bony fingers began to drum on the counter passively.

Charon for the first time registered that the bar was empty. The whole place.

Getting rusty...

He looked back at his employer. Something was up..and not every day bullshit either it seemed. If Charon still had a prominent brow line it would have arched as his interest peaked. The ghoul before him seemed keene on not being over heard, or caught talking about what ever he was about to order him to do for that matter.

"It's going to take you out of Underworld for a few weeks… or a month." Ahzrukhal gave him a weird eye, looking him up and down with a shrug. "It's been so long I don't even remember how well you fared outside.." The ghoul began to snicker.

This was common when dealing with him in 'conversation'. The 'evil bastard' always seemed to find something humorous about Charon's situation as his obedient pawn. He glared at the ghoul, watching him quit down. His shoulders bobbed with the remnants of a silent laugh.

Asshole...needs a few teeth pulled…

It had been over 60 years that Charon had spent cooped up in the Ninth Circle with him. With the 'evil bastard'…..

"You remember that sweet young 'smoothskin' right? "

He knew which one he was speaking about. Not the other female 'smoothskin' whom had arrived a few weeks ago, but the 'too clean' vault girl. The one that had been at the end of every sexual comment Ahzrukhal made. He remember her, though... how could he forget...

"Yes…how could I forget." Charon spoke with disinterest, where as Ahzrukhal spoke of her like a starving man speaks about a juicy steak.

"Well, she's got a little something I want..ha ha...Something I know a very rich man wants..too….." the ghoul trailed off, his hand touching his chin. He rubbed it with raised eyes, looking especially greasy in that moment. No doubt, sick thoughts of the girl and him were swirling around in that rotted brain of his.

He knew already, the reason Ahzrukhal wanted her. The past few months, off and on, he had been slipping in sexual innuendos when the Radio mentioned her name. It was well known that he wanted her under the bar with his dick in her mouth. In fact the whole of Underworld may have known his intentions towards the 'smoothskin'. It was quit disgusting actually..

He even went as far as to suggest Charon was a fag for not wanting to...'get up on that' as he put it. It had been over a hundred years since Charon had fucked a woman and after the first 10 years it wasn't such a big deal anymore. He couldn't give two shits either way at this point. A warm gun was his happiness. Ahzrukhal on the other hand, seemed just as eager as any man to 'wet his whistle', wether it was consensual or not.

"Looks like you already know what I mean, don't you..", it wasn't a question but Charon nodded anyways. The sleazy ghoul grinned, brown rotten teeth looking even more grotesque behind his twisted lips. The ghoul truly looked like a zombie then.

"When?" Immediately after he spoke a 'customer' walked in.

"Tonight…" Ahzrukhal spoke looking at the customer, giving off an even bigger grin when the Underworld resident sank down in a stool to the left of Charon. "What can I get you...friend?" He ignored Charon, placing a forearm on the bar and tending to the 'soon to be drunk' who looked just as happy as any other poor sap in Underworld.

With little to no sound of annoyance, Charon eased his way back to 'his' corner. The sound of his employers 'banter' became less audible as he began to slip into a almost alternate state of consciousness. It was a skill he had honed over the decades to drown out the useless words he spewed forth. As the sound of Ahzrukhal dealing drugs began to dim he pictured the face of the 'smoothskin'. He imagined her face bloody and bruised, tears falling down her face. Despite his celibacy he still had a weakness for women.

A small part of him almost hoped that he wouldn't even make it to her. Maybe he would die getting there, or even more ironic, she would kill him when he attempted to kidnap her. Maybe death would be a welcome treat in the end... Either way his conscious was doing good on not letting his mind rest. In a few hours, when Ahzrukhal debriefed him, he would be on his way.

Despite all the reasons he had to feel pity and hatred for the 'smoothskin' he was now beginning to feel remorse. Hell, he had not even done anything yet and he was already grieving. The feeling wasn't foreign to him, but he was slightly surprised that he felt the way he did for a stupid dame like her.

Broad better be made of steel..

He grouched. If she was as 'god-like' as Three Dog and his radio made her out to be then she should be able to hold up her own. At least she ought to be able to. Once he was given the order he wouldn't be able to hold back one bit when it came time to detain her.

In the midst of the busy hours, between noon and eight, Charon stood peacefully in the yellow drenched corner. Back when the 'smoothskin' first came around here she attempted to engage him in conversation. He remembered it, surprisingly, as if it were yesterday. She came in looking truly beaten. After a few drinks she had sauntered up to him, giving him a interested look. He was used to it. He was a giant compared to the rest of the patrons and no doubt she was curious of that.

He smirked, thinking back to her.

The first words she spoke to him were directed towards the poor condition of his shotgun. Before she could continue he interjected, telling her off in his own way. Her persistence at first was 'cute'. It didn't take too long for it to turned down right loathsome. He growled at her then, pushing her off on Ahzrukhal, refusing to speak to her.

That was the last time she spoke to him. He got one more stare from her before she left but that was all. Two minutes later and he began to feel...drained? He couldn't thinking of a proper word to describe the sinking feeling he got. At the time he figured he was just caught off guard by her attention. That feeling slowly turned to a dull ache. It formed in the bottom of his stomach sank down further...

For the first time in twenty years he'd found a reason to 'beat his meat', and 'beat' it he did. After the 'boss' retired for sleep he found himself in one of the shitty bathroom stalls, whacking himself off to the thought of her. It was the last time he had really thought of her though... After he came in his hand the shame and embarrassment seemed to keep her locked out of his mind. It was a one time fluke it seemed, since then he hadn't had an urge to give himself any relief.

The last drunk was shutting the door behind him. The bar was empty, at least for the moment. The look Azrukhal gave him was enough for his legs to start moving. He again trudged to the bar, fingertips on the counter.

"Take these.." he placed about 50 caps on the counter in a little ratty pouch. "...if you run into any 'problems'...see to it that you use these for an emergency." The ghoul before him sneered as he also laid a box of shotgun shells beside the caps.

"I expect you back in three weeks, with the floozy..." his smile turned more lecherous, if that were possible as he finally made eye contact with Charon.

"You get her back in good shape and maybe you can have a taste...you seem like you need a morale booster as of late."

Charon held his tongue in between his teeth.

You need a taste of some lead mother fucker...not pussy..

"A little pussy will brighten any man's day..." Ahzrukhal stared at his 'slave', almost daring him to make a rebuttal, "...wouldn't you agree?"

The 'evil bastard' needed, despite the fact already being known, to remind him in every way, big or small, that he had no say or sway in any matter. He was to obey and smile while obeying. The 'evil bastard' 'ruled' with an iron fist.

"Whole heartedly..." the words felt sticky coming out of his throat and he remained silent afterwards, placing the caps in one pocket and the shells in another. At this moment he couldn't wait to just get the hell out of the goddamn bar. It would be a welcome treat to be far away from his employer, even if the end result of his absence meant coming back, with a innocent 'package'. It was selfish, but in the end the result would be the same, so why should he feel guilty for wanting to get this done and over with…..?

He stood still, staring at the half empty whiskey bottles on the shelves behind Ahzrukhal's head.

"Well…! get the fuck out and don't come back until you nabbed that bitch!" the ghoul growled and began filling up a glass of whiskey.

Charon glared at the poor excuse for a man. The ghoul began drinking his drink, acting as if he had already left. Slowly he began his leave, trying to seem as unenthusiastic about leaving as he could muster.

"One more thing…", he heard him drawl.

Charon could imagine him swirling the contents of his drink around as he spoke, "…..if I find out you've 'touched' her…without...'my' say-so...I'll kill you." The words held malice, but they were also quit calm and calculated. No doubt he would indeed kill him..

"Understood…" he spoke with nearly the same tone as his 'employer'. The ghoul didn't seem to mind, he heard the clink of glasses.

This bar would not be missed.

With a final wave of distress he opened the doors and left the dirty ghoul to tend to his bar.

Review if you'd like. Tried to re-work the grammar, but I think I'll be getting a beta.

So... what do you think? Not that same old, 'FLW owns Charon' situation. Hopefully its successful.