01. Lure / Bob the Skull
Title: Ghoulies and Ghosties
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 01. Lure
Word Count: 808
Rating: PG (language)
Summary: Harry has help getting rid of an unwanted guest.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
"You've pissed off the wrong people this time, Dresden." The enforcer punctuated his statement with a very nasty grin. "I'm here to make sure it don't happen no more."
Harry winced at the mangled English. Since he was wearing his shield bracelet, he wasn't especially concerned by the very shiny gun in his opponent's ham-like fist. What did concern him was that Moose the Mangler was twice his weight and had a street reputation for breaking bones first then asking questions later.
"I gotta hand it to ya, though," admitted Moose. "You got da Boss believing this shit is real."
"Oh?" said Harry conversationally, his gaze flicking almost imperceptibly to the hockey stick resting in the corner behind the gunman. "What shit would that be?"
"This mumbo jumbo wizard crap." Moose waved his free hand at the candles and other trappings in the shop front.
The magical paraphernalia lying about was more window dressing than anything Harry really needed for his work. Most of it was the sort of thing that clients expected to see when they consulted a wizard for the first time. It was the Dresden family first rule of magic, handed down to him by his father: always give the audience what it wanted.
Moose, apparently, wasn't buying. "How'd ya do it? Mirrors? Computers?"
Harry put on his best 'clueless, who-me?' expression. "Do what?"
"Don't fuck with me," snapped Moose, jabbing the gun at Dresden for emphasis. "I ain't no stupid yokel. The spooky stuff. All the woo-woo shit that's got da Boss sleeping with the fucking light on. How'd ya do it?"
"Oh, that spooky stuff!" exclaimed Harry, with overdramatic understanding. "I did it with that." He nodded toward the desk that acted as the sole barrier between them.
Moose glanced down. A skull grinned back.
"What?"
"That."
"That thing?" Moose's heavy brows beetled into a stormy frown. "You're shitting me."
"Not at all. It's a very sophisticated artifact. You'd be surprised what it can do."
Moose snorted. "I've seen better Halloween props at K-mart," he said, clamping a meaty hand on the dry cranium.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"Yeah? Well, you ain't me." Moose grabbed the skull from the desk and picked it up, giving it a good hard shake. He didn't hear anything rattling inside nor any indication that it was other than what it appeared to be. "So what is it? Some kinda remote control?" He peered into the empty eye sockets. "How d'ya turn it on?"
"Seriously. You don't want me to do that. The terror could kill you-"
"I'm da one with the gun," snapped Moose. "And I said turn the fucking thing ON!"
"Alright," said Harry with martyred surrender. "But don't say I didn't warn you. Now, Bob!"
The eye sockets suddenly came alive with a hellish red light as a sepulchral voice from within intoned, "As You Command."
"What the-?!" Moose dropped the skull back onto the desk and turned his gun on it.
Orange and black flame flared and flew outward, startling Moose into backpedaling. It swirled around him with dizzying speed then erupted into a vision out of nightmare! Rapidly growing in size, the phantasm solidified into a tattered shroud of black so deep it swallowed the room's ambient light. Ragged sleeves and skeletal hands shimmered into existence, the bony claws clacking. Most terrifying of all was the deep cowl that concealed a featureless face made of churning darkness. A sudden, bone-chilling cold enveloped Moose, cutting to the very marrow like a knife of ice. The apparition rose to hover over the gunman, darkness surrounding it like a living thing as the bony fingers reached to grasp him.
"Get away!" yelled Moose, backing away from the apparition. "Dresden! Call it off! Get it away from me!"
"Gladly," said Harry, and extended his hand. It took little effort to command the hockey stick forward. It smacked Moose solidly on the back of the head, dropping him to the floor like a felled tree. The obstruction gone, the staff obediently continued its journey to it's master's hand.
Harry grinned his satisfaction. "And the rest is silence."
The phantasm in the air hovered over the fallen enforcer, then incongruously said in Bob's cultured voice, "Out cold." The black cowl turned to regard Harry. "You should have no trouble gift wrapping him for Lieutenant Murphy."
"Good work, Bob."
"Your humble servant." With a shimmer of orange, the phantom image shifted into Bob's true form. "I've been wanting to try that one out for some time," he admitted as he brushed imaginary dust from his spectral sleeve.
"It was pretty impressive," admitted Harry. "That was no Ghost of Christmas Future. What was it?"
"A Dementor. Book three, I believe."
"I don't remember them being that scary in the book."
"Why, thank you."
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 01. Lure
Word Count: 808
Rating: PG (language)
Summary: Harry has help getting rid of an unwanted guest.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
"You've pissed off the wrong people this time, Dresden." The enforcer punctuated his statement with a very nasty grin. "I'm here to make sure it don't happen no more."
Harry winced at the mangled English. Since he was wearing his shield bracelet, he wasn't especially concerned by the very shiny gun in his opponent's ham-like fist. What did concern him was that Moose the Mangler was twice his weight and had a street reputation for breaking bones first then asking questions later.
"I gotta hand it to ya, though," admitted Moose. "You got da Boss believing this shit is real."
"Oh?" said Harry conversationally, his gaze flicking almost imperceptibly to the hockey stick resting in the corner behind the gunman. "What shit would that be?"
"This mumbo jumbo wizard crap." Moose waved his free hand at the candles and other trappings in the shop front.
The magical paraphernalia lying about was more window dressing than anything Harry really needed for his work. Most of it was the sort of thing that clients expected to see when they consulted a wizard for the first time. It was the Dresden family first rule of magic, handed down to him by his father: always give the audience what it wanted.
Moose, apparently, wasn't buying. "How'd ya do it? Mirrors? Computers?"
Harry put on his best 'clueless, who-me?' expression. "Do what?"
"Don't fuck with me," snapped Moose, jabbing the gun at Dresden for emphasis. "I ain't no stupid yokel. The spooky stuff. All the woo-woo shit that's got da Boss sleeping with the fucking light on. How'd ya do it?"
"Oh, that spooky stuff!" exclaimed Harry, with overdramatic understanding. "I did it with that." He nodded toward the desk that acted as the sole barrier between them.
Moose glanced down. A skull grinned back.
"What?"
"That."
"That thing?" Moose's heavy brows beetled into a stormy frown. "You're shitting me."
"Not at all. It's a very sophisticated artifact. You'd be surprised what it can do."
Moose snorted. "I've seen better Halloween props at K-mart," he said, clamping a meaty hand on the dry cranium.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"Yeah? Well, you ain't me." Moose grabbed the skull from the desk and picked it up, giving it a good hard shake. He didn't hear anything rattling inside nor any indication that it was other than what it appeared to be. "So what is it? Some kinda remote control?" He peered into the empty eye sockets. "How d'ya turn it on?"
"Seriously. You don't want me to do that. The terror could kill you-"
"I'm da one with the gun," snapped Moose. "And I said turn the fucking thing ON!"
"Alright," said Harry with martyred surrender. "But don't say I didn't warn you. Now, Bob!"
The eye sockets suddenly came alive with a hellish red light as a sepulchral voice from within intoned, "As You Command."
"What the-?!" Moose dropped the skull back onto the desk and turned his gun on it.
Orange and black flame flared and flew outward, startling Moose into backpedaling. It swirled around him with dizzying speed then erupted into a vision out of nightmare! Rapidly growing in size, the phantasm solidified into a tattered shroud of black so deep it swallowed the room's ambient light. Ragged sleeves and skeletal hands shimmered into existence, the bony claws clacking. Most terrifying of all was the deep cowl that concealed a featureless face made of churning darkness. A sudden, bone-chilling cold enveloped Moose, cutting to the very marrow like a knife of ice. The apparition rose to hover over the gunman, darkness surrounding it like a living thing as the bony fingers reached to grasp him.
"Get away!" yelled Moose, backing away from the apparition. "Dresden! Call it off! Get it away from me!"
"Gladly," said Harry, and extended his hand. It took little effort to command the hockey stick forward. It smacked Moose solidly on the back of the head, dropping him to the floor like a felled tree. The obstruction gone, the staff obediently continued its journey to it's master's hand.
Harry grinned his satisfaction. "And the rest is silence."
The phantasm in the air hovered over the fallen enforcer, then incongruously said in Bob's cultured voice, "Out cold." The black cowl turned to regard Harry. "You should have no trouble gift wrapping him for Lieutenant Murphy."
"Good work, Bob."
"Your humble servant." With a shimmer of orange, the phantom image shifted into Bob's true form. "I've been wanting to try that one out for some time," he admitted as he brushed imaginary dust from his spectral sleeve.
"It was pretty impressive," admitted Harry. "That was no Ghost of Christmas Future. What was it?"
"A Dementor. Book three, I believe."
"I don't remember them being that scary in the book."
"Why, thank you."