Flash: Punch a Nazi

Photo by BENCE BOROS on Unsplash

“They’re back.” Rick had his back to the door as he whispered low enough no one beyond the bar could hear thanks to the additional enchantments the owner had added after the incident last week.

Drawing a deep draft for a half-giant, I glanced toward the door where the new bouncing staff held up their hands trying to deescalate the situation. Four to one wasn’t good odds. “Tats,” I spat, darkening my skin further, drawing up my hair into elaborate braids. “Take care the Pix’s top, could you?” I jumped over the bar and slid down the other side. “I got some lessons to teach.”

“Sure thing. Should I let the boss know?”

“Not going to matter.” I didn’t have the patience to be polite and play by human rules. My long stride ate the distance between the bar and the door.

“Look man, your club ain’t allowed here anymore since you guys broke sanctuary last week.” The fae bouncer kept their hands visible. Even wearing their male aspect, the winter Seelie was over a foot shorter than the lead vampire.

“Whatcha gonna do about it, fairy?” The vampire crowded the bouncer toward the wall, confident the three jackets he came in with would guard his back.

I scented with my tongue. The groupie vampires had been turned in the past month, and the were of the group had at most three moons since being bit. The lead vampire pushed a decade but wasn’t the sire of the babes. Smith really needed to clean up his coven or I would clean it for him. With an egg to consider, all unnecessary dangers in my territory needed to be eradicated soon.

“They are going to let me take care of it.” I crossed my arms over the black cropped shirt the wait staff used as a uniform. I shifted my mobility from the human appearing glamour to normal flight, then I pulled some extra weight from the plane where I stored my excess. Just six percent should be enough; it wasn’t like my present body presentation could handle more than that, especially since I restored the shape to slimmer version for work.

The vampire didn’t even turn around at my words, foolishly thinking after a measly decade and a nip of the teeth he now qualified as an apex predator. Cockily, he held out a heavily tattooed arm with a finger up. “One fucking minute doll and I will get to you.”

“Nah.” I grabbed the finger and pulled it down, along with the muscular arm, then yanked him toward me. The vamp had been a weight lifter in life, and at over seven foot, he weighed a meager three hundred pounds. I had moved 1,500 pounds of extra mass from my main form.

He moved, I didn’t.

I dead-palmed the punch he threw as he turned, wrapping my fingers around it.

His eyes grew round, before narrowing at the negroid features I had started wearing since Massey agreed to be my egg carrier. He tried to yank his hand away from my grip, and I let him succeed. I watched as his bigoted brain downplayed my danger because of the color of my skin and the shape of my nose, and maybe even the size of my breasts. Supremists often came with a side of misogyny.

“Fuckin’ cunt.” He gripped and ungripped his hand, testing the mobility.

“Tell you want, let’s do a one-punch contest. You win, we serve you. Hell, I’ll even buy the first two rounds. I win, y’all leave and never come back.” I spread my arms. “I’ll even let you go first.” I smiled with teeth showing, maintaining full human appearance. The expression didn’t seem to faze the gang members, but the crazy grin made the bouncer take a step back. Fae understood crazy. I nodded to Seelie. “Just hold up the line for a couple minutes if you can, this won’t take long.”

“You got that right.” The lead vampire growled. “It won’t take long at all.”

“You agree? You tats leave and don’t come back, ever, if I win?” I carefully adjust my stance to make it look like I was bracing for a punch. Looking like you are walking while you are actually flying isn’t the easiest thing, but I had plenty of practice in a variety of forms and glamours.

“Yeah, sure.”

He blinked as the magic covenant slid into place.

“Sanctuary grounds. Don’t make contracts you don’t want enforced.” I smirked. The regulars quickly learned never to stiff a bill or skimp on a promised tip. Roderiguez didn’t run tabs. “Be sure to make the first punch count.”

“Oh, I will, bitch.” The huge undead took a step and swung hard. The power of his punch pushed him back a few steps, and he curled around his hand.

I was disappointed when I didn’t hear bones crunch. “You pulled your punch, that was stupid.” I moved to close the gap. “My turn.”

“Jump her.” The elder grunted at the younger vampires. But they weren’t his spawn, so they had the option to back off, which they took. I memorized their faces. Smart vampires made good neighbors, if they remembered to be smart and not try to be clever. Only the werewolf responded, transforming to full lycan shape and leaped at me. Either the lead vampire had were- control, a common enough ability, or the furry hungered for a pack and answered to an alpha orders. Hurting him would be like kicking a chained puppy. I backhand him gently into the babes. The two younglings grabbed him and hold him back.

To control the slap, I had turned toward the werewolf. The owner of Bar None frowned on killing customers, even unwanted ones.

The pack leader used what he thought was a distraction to jump at my back at vampire speed. At a mere decade, his speed was a joke. I easily spun, brought across just a minuscule portion of my talons into this form, and punched through his chest, holding his black heart hostage, before he understood what happened.

“That wasn’t part of the agreement. Ordering the fledging like that. It was to be you and I.” I stared up at him, letting a bit of my golden lizard pupils shine through my human appearance, and curled back my lips. “You broke Sanctuary.”

I squeezed my fist closed, then dropped the decaying corpse on the ground.

Wiping the blood turning into dust over my bare stomach, I turn to the remaining tats and jackets. “You were part of the agreement. You understand that right?”

The two vampires nodded their heads vigorously. The transformed wolf growled groggily, his broken jaw healing with audible snaps.

“Don’t come back. Let the rest of the gang know too.”

I dropped my chin to stare into the vampires’ black eyes, breaking the common-sense rule of never making eye contact with vampires. They were too young for it to matter. The werewolf tilted his neck, exposing his throat.

“You come in while I’m here, anyone with your colors, and I will remove you.” I kicked the shrinking dust pile to indicate how I would remove them. I taught lessons but only once. Supernaturals either had a learning curve or they didn’t. “Got it?”

They nodded.


The three children rushed out the door.

“Alphin, do a better job and sweep up this mess.”

“No problem. Sure thing.” The fae stumbled over their words. “On it.”

I turned around, forgetting for a moment to make it look like I wasn’t flying, the spin raised me an inch or so off the floor. Sighing, seeing about half the customers with their eyes wide staring at me, comparing the rumors of what they heard about last week against what they just witnessed, I shunted my talons and weight back to the other side and landed on the floor light enough not to crack the tiles. “What?” I asked the crowd, “Boss said no more tats. We are a Sanctuary. Anyone got a problem with that?”

People shook their heads and dropped their heads to their drinks.

“Remember to treat your waitresses with respect, because if you think I’m scary, you should see an annoyed witch.”

The wait staff chuckled at that one, all of them apprentices of the owner, a thousand-year-old wizard capable of maintaining a Sanctuary in a large metropolitan area, and one of the few being on the planet who remembered what it is like to hunt dragons. Some of the regulars joined in the laughter. By the time I made it across the club to slide across the silver-trimmed bar, conversations were restarting around the room.

(words 1,449; first published 1/19/2024)