Zorro?

[nadriel.livejournal.com]

It was another night in London. And for the most part, things proceeded as per normal for the night. That is to say, in this world of darkness, it was not a night to be alone in the wrong place.

Sam Mason had had a long and tiring day at work, having to work late to fix what his manager had screwed up but wouldn't take the blame for- or stick around to fix. He took the same route home that he always did, not accounting for the fact that it was now well after dark.

Which is why he now found himself at knifepoint in front of a pair of would-be muggers.

Unfortunately, from the slightly unfocussed look and ranting from one of them, he wasn't sure if handing over all his money would be enough. Sam was becoming increasingly worried about important things like his continued existence. Then he, and his tormentors, realised they weren't alone in the alley.

Close to the entrance, having somehow walked in without being noticed, was a very strange individual. Dressed in a silk shirt with ruffs, a velvet jacket, and what Sam would have recognised as breeches had he been more attentive in history lessons, was a pale figure, whose other distinguishing features were the neatly trimmed beard and what looked like a Zorro mask on his face.

He spoke, in slightly accented English, apparently directed at the two thugs:

"My apologies, but I cannot help but notice that you appear intent upon sin, and in an uncouth manner as well. I fear you have not considered the repercussion upon your immortal souls..."

After a moment where everyone else was too stunned to respond, one of the thugs turned to this figure, and unleashed a stream of invective that promised only harm to him, punctuated by waving his knife in a suggestive fashion.

To this the stranger was quick to respond, a frown creasing his features as he seemed to overcome a mental struggle.

"Senor, I cannot abide rudeness, particularly piled upon sin. I think you are too enamoured of that flimsy blade you wield, and thus I shall divest you of both the blade and two of your fingers for your rudeness..."

Sam watched as the first thug started to say something derogatory, then fell back in sudden shock as a sword seemed to materialise in the strangers hand. True to his promise, with a quick gesture of the sword the stranger divested him of both knife and fingers.

Whilst distracted by the sudden screams of agony from the first thug, Sam was still alert enough to watch as the second one rushed the stranger, holding his knife low in an attempt to eviscerate him.

But this too was doomed to failure as an ornate knife appeared in the strangers other hand. With a flourish, the second thug was disarmed and had the stranger's knife at his throat.

"Your sins are not yet mortal- I advise you both to go away and find a better life to live- for if I see you again I shall bring the Lord's punishment for the unrepentant sinner upon you both", proclaimed the stranger.

The two thugs fled in terror, and Sam turned to thank his rescuer. It was then, without the immediate fear of death or pain distracting him, that he realised there was something horribly wrong about the man in front of him.

As if realising this, the stranger bowed slightly to him.

"I am sorry, senor, that you would have to meet a damned soul such as me. It would be best for you, I think, if you were to forget me, and go away to lead a godly life. Then you would have little fear of meeting me again in less pleasant circumstances."

With a bow, the stranger turned and walked away, and Sam headed home, determined to do whatever necessary to never have to meet any of the people (or whatever he was) ever again...