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Petharic vs Petra

The atmosphere inside the Gangplank took on a deathly calm; a calm so thick and dense it even seemed to muffle the hustling and bustling street sounds out on Clockhaven’s main thoroughfare.   

 “Is he expired?” asked Miss Buxombottom, and though she spoke in the breathiest of whispers, somehow still managed to convey a near uncontained level of excitement.

 “Yes,” said Petharic, removing his hand from Emerson’s throat. The tall dark-haired man then gripped Emerson’s shirt by the lapels and tore the garment down the centre. He pressed his ear against Emerson’s bared chest, listening for any hint of a heartbeat.

 “Builder bless me, I think I might swoon,” said Miss Buxombottom, the back of her left hand pressed firmly against her forehead.

Once satisfied that Emerson Lighthouse was well and truly dead, Petharic placed the palm of his right hand against the centre of Emerson’s chest. Quickly, almost violently, he began to thrust downward, then again and again, continuing to pump at one second intervals, thirty compressions interspersed with two breaths blown directly into the dead man’s mouth. Petharic repeated this pattern with metronomic regularity. So enthralled was Miss Buxombottom by this brazen display, she failed to notice the entrance of the preteen girl with a Louisville slugger resting upon her shoulder.

“HOLY CRIPES!” Petra Flax exclaimed, the horrific scene momentarily freezing her in her tracks. On one side of the room, a dead man lay face down in a pool of blood; on the other side a stranger appeared to be performing a heinous act upon an obviously drunk Emerson Lighthouse; and all the while, Mr. Underby’s personal secretary just stood there and watched with a wicked smile on her face.

“CUT IT OUT, YA BIG CREEP!” Petra hollered, charging straight for Petharic; she then put the Louisville Slugger into action, swinging for the fences.  Petharic had been about to reach for the Cooper Pocket Revolver which he’d left on the floor while resuscitating Emerson, when Petra’s swing connected, shattering his right elbow.

“If you think I’m gonna just stand around while you take advantage of Mr. Lighthouse’s early morning inebriation, think again, buster! Scram! Take your gimpy arm and your grown-up games elsewhere! The Gangplank’s a family establishment!” To emphasize her point, Petra raised the bat, readying herself to swing again if need be.

Petharic shifted his weight and grabbed the discarded gun with his left hand, bringing it up and around, drawing a direct line on  Petra before she could take a step closer. “Lower the bat and go stand in the corner,” Petharic rasped. “Lighthouse is going to survive.” Petra held her stance a moment longer before relenting with an insulting jaw thrust in Petharic’s direction. “Cripes, what’s with this town today?” she muttered, taking a few steps back. “First the massacre at the Mnemonics Institute, now this.”

“What did you say?” Despite the pain of the broken arm, Petharic’s question was direct and focused. He rose and began to stride directly toward Petra. The girl raised her bat again and took a defensive stance. “Listen buster, I’ll whack your other arm to give you a matchin’ set of meat sacks iffen you take even one more step step in this direction. I just came lookin for Squire Pinhead. Apparently he’s still got friends at the Mnemonics Institute, hard as him havin friends at all is ta believe. Apparently a buncha them brothers got themselves killed ta death in some nutty attack just a few minutes ago.”

Without another word, Petharic dropped Miss Buxombottom’s Cooper Pocket Revolver on the nearest table and ran for the door.


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  1. Avariel Falcon Avariel Falcon April 14, 2016

    *ponders ghostly Mr Lighthouse for the briefest of moments before flickering to another seemingly random location*

    • Emerson Lighthouse Emerson Lighthouse April 14, 2016


      “So what was it liked after you, you know, snuffed it?” Petra asked.

       Emerson took a long draw off his pipe as he pondered. “I had this dream, it was really vivid. I was sitting on a park bench with Avariel Falcon, sharing a super-sized cherry cola and feeding a dozen or so clockwork pigeons from a bag of pink, candied popcorn. But—and here is where it get’s a little weird—I looked around and realized the park Avariel and I were in was merely the head of a pin.”

       Petra looked over at Miss Buxombottom who answered the girl’s questioning look with a sad shake of the head.

      Emerson, oblivious to their concern continued, “Then these angels started dancing—”

      “Angels! Cripes, how many?” Petra jumped in. “I could win a bet with that information.”

      “I never pay attention to those technicalities,” Emerson sighed.  He shook his pipe then realized it was spent. “Well, time to go anyway, before Underby gets here. You should come along Petra. I’m going to reheat one of Mrs. Sawyer’s apple pies. I’ve been eating well the last couple of months.”


  2. Garnet Psaltery Garnet Psaltery April 14, 2016

    This will not do; we can’t have the nice people dying all over the place, even if they do get resuscitated or pop in and out like a miniature electrical storm.  *sniffs and reaches for the comfort cocoa*

    • Nyanka Jinx Nyanka Jinx April 15, 2016

      I agree, Miss Psaltery. This Petharic fellow must be out of his mind.

      Tell me, is this man always so violent and unpredictable? I swear, people like that are a menace to society.

      – Dr. Henry Jekyll

      • Beryl Strifeclaw Beryl Strifeclaw April 15, 2016

        *Very quietly roots for Petharic while munching vole on a stick* 

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