The New Flesh

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Rex Miles pushed the manhole cover off and was instantly grabbed by two large men that looked like professional wrestlers. They pulled him up and stood him in front of Edgar Plump. A whale of man nicknamed Plump the Lump.

“Mr. Miles,” Edgar said, smiling with ample, pale lips. “You’ve disappointed me. A great assassin as yourself should’ve known that I would have cameras set up throughout that sewer system. When you’ve pissed off as many people as I have, you can never be too careful.” He nodded at the two men and ordered, “Get his gun, boys. I know that the son-of-a-bitch has got one.”

One of the men patted Rex down and produced a small, sleek black revolver.

Edgar Plump waddled over and took the gun. Then turned to Rex and stood face-to-face with him. Rex could smell the combination of bourbon and chicken wings on Edgar’s breath as he said, “Now, Mr. Miles, please tell me who wants to kill me?”

“Why does it matter, Mr. Plump?” Rex shrugged his broad shoulders.

“You’re going to be dead in a matter of minutes anyway.”

Edgar let out a strained, wheezy chuckle. “Is that so?” he asked, rolling his eyes and pointing the revolver at Rex. “Because it looks like to me that you are the one in trouble.” He raised his thin eyebrows. “Not me.”

Rex smiled like a predator eyeing his prey. “I like the position that I am in,” he said, crinkling his brow. “I’ve already been paid to kill you.”

“By who?” Edgar huffed, waddling around in circles shaking his greasy, dark head.

“By someone that wants you dead,” Rex answered hastily. He pulled a small knife from his sleeve with breakneck speed, and stabbed one of the men in the temple. Then slit the other man’s throat. They fell to the ground as Edgar Plump’s pale-brown eyes widened. He raised the revolver with a trembling, thick hand.

“Mr. Miles,” Edgar gasped, cocking the hammer back on the gun, “stop or I’ll kill ya!” He wiped the sweat off of his brow with his free hand and took a moment to think. “Maybe we can make a deal?” he said, swallowing the huge lump that rested in his throat. “I’m always looking for people to do my dirty work,” he paused and looked at his dead bodyguards, “and it appears that I have two openings available.”

“Sorry, Mr. Plump,” Rex began, looking down the barrel of his own gun, “but my current job is to kill you, and a dead man can only write cold checks.”

“But I’m the one with the gun,” Edgar shook the gun.

“I know,” Rex nodded. “But with a nickname like Plump the Lump, I am sure that you don’t know how to use it.” An evil smile curled Rex’s lips.

“I’ll show you!” Edgar hissed, pulling the trigger.


The gun clicked. Edgar looked at it with immense dismay. He aimed the gun again and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Rex stood there looking bored. He straightened a wrinkled in his black jacket, and popped his knuckles. “The gun is empty, Mr. Plump. And in a matter of minutes so will your head.”

Edgar bit at his bottom lip and pulled the trigger again.

Click. Click. Click!

Edgar let out a exhausted sigh. “Are you sure that we can’t work out a deal? I have money, Mr. Miles, and lots of it!” He grinned sheepishly.

Rex didn’t say anything. He walked back over to the manhole cover and flipped it over. There was his favorite gun, a nine-millimeter Beretta, duct-taped to the inner housing. He yanked the Beretta free, and turned around in time to see Edgar Plump charging at him like a bull. Rex stepped aside as Edgar fell into the manhole opening. His hefty body lodged in the hole like he was a human drain plug.

Rex cocked an eyebrow. “You’re making this too easy.”

“Wait!” Edgar yelled. “You wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man… would ya?”

Rex raised the gun. “I would,” He pulled the trigger. “And I did. That’s just the way a life of an assassin is, Mr. Plump. You meet some interesting people then… you blow their fucking head off.”

"Plump the Lump"
Copyright: © 2009 Chad Case

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Chad Case lives in Lawrenceburg, Kentucky, with his wife, Melissa. He enjoys writing short horror fiction in his spare time. To date his works have been published on MicroHorror.com, The New Flesh Blogzine, Flashes In The Dark, and in the anthology: Toe Tags.