Shattered Ladder 1-27 (Patreon)

The air around him tasted like still-made sharp and fear.The first was in his hand, a cup half-empty with the clear hard liquor as he let the bottom click on top of his desk. The second… the second had good reason to fill the room.

Either way, it was a good mix.

A mix just as familiar as the room he spent a good chunk of his time in.The ugly space he called an office was carved out of the guts of a derelict cargo container and shoved into the side of a building, dark corrugated walls rattling every other hour as condensation wept down the metal like the sweat of hard-working men. Grendel sat behind his desk, leaning forward on a throne of rust and power that used to serve as the solid engine block of a pre-War hauler. 

The cold metal was a familiar comfort under his thick forearms, its pitted parts biting into his skin. Stripped, polished, sanded off, and dragged up forty flights of stairs by men who were either dead or broken, the desk was the only thing in the room that didn’t shake when the lev-tracks roared past outside. Stil, he doubted he would have minded his old desk raw all that much anyway. He was a ‘scraper of a man and liked to think he was built of the same dense, unforgiving material as the thing.

He knew his men felt the same whenever they saw him, his presence filling any room and sucking the air right out of it.

The neon above the door flickered. KAMI-RAMEN.

Stolen from a noodle stall three districts over, it had been around him a good year before he hit two ticks. His first ever snatch at nine years old and it still worked too. Hell, he made sure of that. Even buzzing loud as it did these days, he liked the noise of it. 

It kept him sharp and it made other people twitch.

Like the three scut-heaps standing in front of him right now.

Ren. Jax. Pike.

Grendel didn’t bother looking at their faces, not like he would remember them anyway. Each one of them was new to him, the same as the sight of him was new to them. Three street-soldiers talking with the big man up top? If they could think straight, he’d be surprised.

No, their faces meant nothing to him, which is why Grendel’s dark eyes stayed fixed on their hands. Jax’s shook like the walls did, fingers twitching at his sides like he was fighting off stack-flies. Pike was gripping his own belt so hard, it was biting into his skin like cuffs. And Ren…Grendel’s gaze slid over the crude cast on Ren’s arm; scrap-metal banding and duct-tape the clear example of some sump-doc’s work, quick and dirty. 

Ren was a mess.

If his arm wasn’t bad enough, the face was another pile of shit to add to it. Purple swelling shut one eye completely, a split lip dark and thick enough that Grendel knew it had been weeping blood freely. 

The others were whatever, but that walking pile of battered meat and bruised flesh standing there in his colors and staring back at him… pathetic.

“So…”

The word hung in the room.

Grendel let it hang.

No need to shout or scream. Shouting was for weak men who needed volume to announce themselves and make space. Weak men and his brother.

Grendel Wrax didn’t need volume, though. As he put his cup down, one thick hand reached out to his right, knuckles scarred like old lug nuts, and closed around the sphere on his desk. 

Polished to a mirror’s shine every single day by his own hand, the chrome ball bearing was the size of a smaller man’s fist. Scavenged from some old machine like his desk, it was heavy and cool.

Perfect to roll.

And he did.

Thump. From left hand.

To right hand.The rhythm was a comfort, like the buzzing of his sign, something perfect to drown out the hitching rattle that came with every breath from Ren.“Explain.” The word was gravel against concrete as he finally continued. “Go slow. Make me understand.”

Jax and Pike said nothing, both looking at each other as Ren swallowed a mouthful of air, the sound thick and heavy. “B-boss, we… we had ‘em.”The boss blinked slow, waiting for the beaten man to continue. “We h-had ‘em.” Ren repeated himself, thick voice thickened just a bit more as he spoke through a swollen jaw. The man was a big one, but he spoke slow, unsure of himself like one of the single-tick runts begging for gray outside. “Cornered ‘im. Dead in the shop.”

“Know that.” Grendel didn’t look up from the ball bearing in his hands as he passed it between them. “Your leash been said all this, passed it up-chain three days back. Simple collect. Kid owes us. You take his gear simple math.”

He stopped the ball in his left hand, fingers gripping tight as he palmed it. “But math got… messy.” Dark eyes looked up, staring at Ren and no one else. “Came back empty. Came back broke. Came back broken.”

Ren flinched, other hand going to his cast.

“H-he… he had help, I’m telling you, boss.” The words tripped over each other as fast as Ren pushed them out, the man going for whatever he could now.. “Two kids, j-just came outta nowhere! A girl, bright hair, yellow. And… and the other one. Southblood.”

Grendel’s hand went still, fingertips stopping the squeeze.

Southblood.

The report about Kree, same day as Ren and his pack of idiots. 

His little sister’s runt who’d packed up with Rax’s crew, like his wasn’t good enough. Kid got his jaw busted open, said some skinny Southblood runt in green had dropped him with a backhand. Grendel had laughed then, called it scrap-talk even as Rax got in his face. 

He’d thought his brother was loud as ever, pissed for nothing. Kree was a soft one, always had been. Probably let a little boy get a lucky shot and spun a story to cover the shame. Nothing to think about.

At least, that’s what he thought then.

But now…

“Same kid?” Grendel’s voice dropped. 

“Y-yes, boss! Same kid.” The man nodded, jerky motion quick even as every second of it looked like it hurt. “He was… fast-fast. Hit hard too.”Grendel leaned back, chair groaning as the engine block didn’t. A glitchtech. A girl. A ghost.

Three runts, all of them younger than Kree. 

And three of his collectors — Jax, Pike Ren — men who broke bones for breakfast and collected limbs for lunch, shaking like some vat-meat still growing.

Grendel let out a breath through his nose, a sharp exhale. “Lost the coin.”The statement was just that, all facts and nothing else. “Beat by runts.”He looked at Jax, the fattest of the three flinching. 

Looked at Pike, the thinnest one looking down.

“Made crew look like rust.” His voice was soft as he stood up. “My name. My street.”The chair scraped, metal shrieking on metal as he pushed it back. Grendel walked around his desk, weight settling on his heels as he finally came to a stop right in front of Ren.Copper, sweat, and the scent of old piss was the sour smell that coated the man, Grendel not even flinching at it as he placed a hand on Ren’s good shoulder. It was a heavy grip, yes, but as gentle as Grendel could give.

“What we learn today?”Ren shook his head, eyes wide and whites showing. “…boss, please… won’t… w-won’t.” The animal knew. The animal always knew before the man did. “Won’t happen again, swear on everything, swear on the Tower, swear on ev-”“What.” Grendel repeated the word. “Did. We. Learn?”

Ren jerked, the man’s mouth opening as his whole body flinched. “...don’t fuck with your money…?”Grendel smiled, steel teeth flashing in the dim light of his office. “Wrong.”He swung.

No wind-up, no grunt, just torque from the hip and a snap from the shoulder.

His right hand kept Ren still and unmoving even as the chrome sphere blurred in, the sound of a melon dropped from a ‘scraper filling the office.

The impact caved the side of his skull in, bone shattering inward and brain matter going everywhere as a spray of red painted the wall behind him and both his friends. Neither of them made a noise, the both of them barely even breathing as they knew better than to even take a step.

Good.The boss looked at the chrome ball in his hand, thick clots of blood and a few clumps of hair clinging to the once-polished surface. With a sigh, he wiped it off on Ren’s black shirt; slow and careful, left to right.

As Grendel let go of his shoulder, Ren dropped straight down, the man long-dead before he ever touched the floor.

“Learned.” Grendel blinked at each man once as he rumbled the words. “Don’t make me look weak.”He walked back around to his desk, only pausing to carefully place the sphere back in its spot on his desk. “And… don’t fuck with my money.”

He sat down, his office chair groaning as it accepted him back. “Now, get the mess out. Recycle it. Sump-rats gotta eat too.”Jax and Pike moved without another word, scrambling and tripping over each other to take any excuse to leave. Both grabbed a leg each, dragging the boy toward the door as they did their best not to look at the other half or the long wet streak of red left behind.

“Jax…”The man froze, holding a left foot.Grendel folded his hands on the cold metal of the desk. “Find them.”He leaned forward, steel teeth showing again. “Find glitchtech. Find girl.” His dark eyes narrowed. “Find Southblood. Bring them. All. Want… conversation.”

Jax nodded, head bobbing like a toy, and joined Pike in dragging the dead weight out into the hall.

The door clicked shut.