Stats: Written: 4/15/18; Prompt: The Modern Typewriter; Time: 30 min. max – N/A

Prompt: “No point having a gun without someone who knows how to use it.”

“You’re not a gun.” The villain caught the front of their shirt. “I don’t know what you’re used to, but I didn’t hire you to be a mindless weapon. That what you want to be for me?”

The lackey startled. It had never occurred that they had the option of being anything other than the muscle, the cannon fodder. A moment passed, two – stunned.

The villain raised their brows and a gleam entered their eyes. “You’re right though, darling. I do know exactly what to do with you. Go home and think about it.”

His head hung low, dirt stuck under his nails and knuckles bleeding.

Sighing, his mentor turned from the boy, ignoring his tattered clothes and the obvious iron-salt mixture in the air.

“There’s more work to be done. I expected as much.” His gaze cut to the boy’s form. “A lot of work.” He couldn’t help the disappointment that filled him. He half expected a more stoic child, not one that trembled as the boy did now.

But… he had been prepared for this. He could work with it.

“What now?” The boy kept his gaze firmly down.

“More training, of course. Time as well. I need to be familiar with your advantages and disadvantages if I’m to deploy you properly.”

“I guess there’s no point in having a gun without someone who knows how to use it.”

“You’re not a gun.” His mentor moved around the desk with such a speed, the kid didn’t have time to step back before the front of his shirt was grabbed by a fist. He gulped at the sight of barely controlled rage in the man’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve been through but I didn’t take you in to be a mindless a weapon. Is that what you want?” His voice began to rise. “To be inhuman? Useful when needed? A waste of space when not?”

His words startled the boy. Before, it was obvious that they needed a tool. He never thought much would change. That being here than there would be different.

A moment of silence passed, the man pulling his emotions back under control and evening his breaths. The kid’s shirt had been released, space put between them. Rage filled eyes turned back to their casual, calculated smugness.

“I do know exactly what to do with you. Eat your dinner and go to bed on time. We can talk more in the morning.”