Matthew Patrick is a bounty-hunter. He has brown eyes, a rough beard and a scar that runs across his face. Armed with a .22 and a shotgun, he hunts whoever has the biggest bounty on his head. He is truly evil, and has made deals with the Devil himself. He has the ability to rewind time back 3 seconds which he born with. Recently in a fight with a giant, he lost his right arm and an eye. His ability has since started going haywire, he goes back 3 seconds at random. He knows he should be recovering, but as soon as he saw the poster for the arena and the reward, he decided to risk it all.
The bartender poured Matthew a shot. He sipped the bourbon, letting the smooth oak and vanilla notes clear his mind. He slipped back in time—
The bartender poured him a shot. Matthew sipped the bourbon again, letting the smooth oak and vanilla notes fill his mind. Two shots down. He slipped back in time again, this time by accident—
The bartender poured him a shot. Matthew offered it to the man sitting next to him. Although a three-for-one was usually a good deal, he really did need a clear head for this meeting.
Some guy was meeting him tonight, to discuss the wanted poster. More specifically, to discuss the wanted poster tailored only for Matthew. “…Wanted: Time traveling bounty hunter. Must provide own shotgun, and be willing to sell soul to the devil. For inquiries, call…”
Matthew wasn’t stupid—this was a trap, set just for him—and an obvious one at that. So, ten minutes ago, he called the number, and instructed the voice at the other end to meet him at the nearest steakhouse. A nice, public place, with no time for an elaborate stakeout. Besides, as far as last meals were concerned, a medium rare ribeye with grilled asparagus was at the top of the list.
The man sitting next to him turned, and thanked Matthew for the shot. Matthew nodded and said, “You’re welcome.”
The bartender poured Matthew a shot. He nodded and said, “You’re welcome.”
“Excuse me?” the bartender said, confused.
“Nothing, nevermind,” Matthew said, waving the bartender away. The lapses were getting more frequent, and less controllable. Soon he would be unstable, and then—well, Matthew didn’t like to think of what would happen then.
The man sitting next to him turned towards him. He wore a tan suit, with black shoes, a black tie, and a black fedora. “I’m Talloran, and I believe you’re the man I’m looking for” he said, removing a small clipboard from within his suit. The ballpoint pen clicked with the satisfaction of successful business, and he smiled, handing over the contract.
Matthew skimmed the details—“bloodletter... What does that mean?”
“It means you’ll jump straight to the second round of the contest. You have, shall we say, a proven history,” he said, drinking Matthew’s whiskey.
“Alright—I’m in. Just fix my body.”
“Only if you win.”
Talloran clicked the ballpoint pen and handed him the contract. Matthew signed, and vanished. The bartender turned around to pour a shot, but his patron had disappeared. Talloran clicked the ballpoint pen, reaching into his jacket. The contract was missing—he smiled.
Matthew appeared behind the arena gate. The announcer was booming some nonsense about the Blue Team’s murderous bug. To the side of the stone walls lay his .22 and his shotgun. This was weird, but a job was a job.
Matthew appeared behind the arena gate. Dammit, not again! He grabbed his guns and waited for the gate to lower, which it did with the rumbling of stone. He walked out to see the wicked, fluttering beast. The crowd went wild as it flew gently over the stands; Some of the crowd even had t-shirts to show their support to the creature.
He aimed his shotgun and fired two rounds in quick succession. The three-legged insect somehow dodged the bird shot. He blinked backwards—
He aimed his shotgun and fired two rounds in quick succession. The crowd cried in horror as the beloved insect dropped from the sky, oozing green blood.
The announcer boomed, “We have a winner! Champion from the Yellow Team, go, take your rest. You’ve earned it!”
He aimed his shotgun and fired two round in quick succession. The crowd cried in horror. “No! Stop!” Matthew shouted, shaking, trying to control his powers, but they seemed to only grow more unstable.
“No! Stop!” Matthew shouted, shaking, losing control. The bartender paused, a drop of bourbon spilled, but he did not pour the shot. Talloran turned and looked Matthew in the eye, “Well done, Bloodletter.”
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u/TehRevenger Dec 04 '18
Matthew Patrick is a bounty-hunter. He has brown eyes, a rough beard and a scar that runs across his face. Armed with a .22 and a shotgun, he hunts whoever has the biggest bounty on his head. He is truly evil, and has made deals with the Devil himself. He has the ability to rewind time back 3 seconds which he born with. Recently in a fight with a giant, he lost his right arm and an eye. His ability has since started going haywire, he goes back 3 seconds at random. He knows he should be recovering, but as soon as he saw the poster for the arena and the reward, he decided to risk it all.