To Me, It Was a Tuesday

Okay, some of you may want to strangle me for this, but I don't really have any more Keller and Kathy scenes for you. I have a lot of random tiny scenes, but not enough to post on here. Sorry about that! What I do have is this random one-shot I wrote for one of my favorite characters- Dzherri Kalasky.
There is this blog I really enjoy getting writing prompts from. It's called For All Your Writerly Needs! on Tumblr. (Some things are not appropriate on there- the author is not a Christian and though he/she does put up some great posts, there are some not good ones there, too. Use discretion if you go to the site.) One of the things this author posts are really fun character questions. I've done a couple of them, highlighting different characters and writing scenes about them. I thought I'd share a couple of those, too.

This one is about Dzherri, a former Russian (ha, I don't have any attachment to my Russian characters or anything...) ambassador. He was kind of a crime boss back in the day, until his untimely "death." At least everyone thought he had died. Of course he didn't, and this scene takes place twenty years later.

Oh, here's a photo of Dzherri. This was drawn by my friend Rachel M. Isn't it amazing? This is why I don't draw a lot, because I have two sisters and two friends who are professional artists.

Alright, here is the scene!

To Me, It Was A Tuesday

Write a scene where your Antagonist is ambushed by a person claiming to be seeking revenge. Does this Antagonist remember this person?

Dzherri stalked back to his office, angry thoughts swirling around in his head. I have to deal with her sometime, he decided. Not an easy choice, but she’s losing her usefulness. Why do I even keep her around? He’d have to talk to Sebastian about it.

As he approached the large cubical he’d had built in the warehouse- he paused. A strange sort of feeling came over him, something he hadn’t felt for a very long time. This feels like Star Wars, he mused, somewhat comically.

There- he wasn’t just imagining something, he actually had heard a noise.

Dzherri withdrew the small pistol he carried in the breast pocket of his coat. “Who’s there?” he demanded.

Silence.

Calculated. He took the safety off his weapon and cocked it. This was beginning to get to him, he didn’t like suspense. Never did, never would. “I will ask you again, who’s there?”

Again, nothing.

He scanned every nook and cranny with a sharp, almost panicked eye. Could it be that Cameron was playing a joke on him? If he was he’d regret it, Dzherri was going to shoot the first thing he saw move.

And there it was…

Bang! Dzherri fired the weapon and heard a squeal, then rolled his eyes as a rat dropped dead from behind an oil barrel. “Stupid rodent,” he muttered.

Perhaps he’d overreacted. It was only a rat, not a threat. But that strange, tingle sensation was still crawling up his spine, and he decided against pocketing his weapon.

He walked forward and took one more look around the building. No, there wasn’t anyone there. He’d created the whole scenario in his head. Getting paranoid in your old age, Kalasky, he growled to himself.

Dzherri had no sooner put the safety back on his firearm when out of nowhere a strong force landed on top of him, knocking him to the ground. His gun flung from his hand and landed several feet away from him.

Though he was in his early sixties, Dzherri still had his quick reflexes. Within a millisecond he’d flipped over and flung his assailant a good five feet away. He leapt to his feet and tried to dive for his weapon, but his attacker was quick and kicked it to the corner.

“Don’t even try.”

Dzherri stared, then frowned as he stared up at the blade in the young girl’s hand. A girl who was probably no older than ten.

She had brown hair and brown eyes, but she looked oddly familiar.

“Are you one of my gophers?” Dzherri asked, slowly rising up and mockingly putting his hands in the air. “Because I will have Cameron hunt you down once you rob me.”

She shook her head, her brown eyes inflamed as she pointed the large rapier at him. The sword was a good two sizes too big for her, but she didn’t seem to care. Her eyes were filled with glee, and her mouth was turned up in a triumphant smile.

“I’ve always imagined myself doing this,” said she, taking a step forward.

Dzherri narrowed his eyes. “Dumb ambitions, m’dear,” he snapped. “You do realize I have to kill you now?” He stepped forward, directly in the range of the deadly weapon. Ah, she hesitated. She hadn’t thought this all out. “Who are you?”

She still seemed a bit unsure of herself, but retained her confident demeanor and held her stance. “You don’t know? Why, I would have thought the way you’ve tracked my mother you’d know everything by now.”

“Look, I can’t remember every person I offended or tried to kill,” Dzherri sighed. “And I certainly don’t remember you. Former diplomat’s daughter, perhaps? Or one of my cohorts that I had to have eliminated?”

Now she seemed to be enjoying herself, at least in his incompetent memory. “You really don’t know, do you?” she snickered.

It annoyed him how confident this child was. A mere child! Why was he letting himself stoop to her level? He could easily pull a dropkick and wrist bend to get the weapon out of her hand.

Simple, he was curious. And it could be fun to let herself build up a false sense of control and then rip it away from her.

“I do not remember you,” he stated flatly. “Probably because you’re so minor in the big scheme of things that I merely sent an assassin to kill your mother or whoever you’re extracting revenge for.”

“You never succeeded in killing my mother,” she proclaimed.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because you tried to kill her.”
Dzherri cocked his head a bit and raised an eyebrow. “You’re getting revenge for your mother whom I didn’t succeeded in killing because…?”
“Because you’re still threatening her life!” she said, exasperated. “You seriously don’t know who I’m talking about?”
“No.”
Dzherri barely flinched when she threw the sword to him. He caught it easily, and happened to glance at the handle.
This can’t be happening. It couldn’t be. 
But it was. He knew this handle. He knew the feel of the rapier, the weight and curves in the handle. This was his sword.
The one he’d lost on the river…
For the first time, Dzherri chuckled, doing a one-eighty with the sword and studying the handle. “You must be Emilia’s daughter,” he snickered.
“I am,” she said, withdrawing another sword he’d noted rested in her sheath. 
“What is your name, child?” he said in an almost pleasant tone. 
She readied her blade and announced in great glamour, “I am Missy.”
“Missy what?”
At this, Missy blinked. “Uhh, just Missy.”
“Missy is not a name,” Dzherri stated.
“Well it’s my name, for your information!” She retorted. “Missy Clarkston.”
“And you really plan on dueling me?”
Missy nodded, but her eyes shifted for a split-second. Nervous, unsure of herself. This would be a piece of cake.

“Well, Missy,” said he in a mocking tone, taking a swordsman stance. “Are you ready?”

Hope you enjoyed! Here's a fun fact of the day- Dzherri was my very first Russian character ever. He has gone through several name changes- first he was the "Wolf", a mob boss. Then he was Anthony Higgins. He later became Ulaurrie and finally he got his full name- Dzherri Alexandr Kalasky. Dzherri is pronounced Jill-e-at and means Jerry in Russian. Though Dzherri has changed names several times, he still hasn't beaten the record of the most name changes in my archives. Jeager Reichmann, a Nazi Colonel, wins that record. His name went from Oberst, Kazam, Vogel, a couple others I don't remember and then Jeager.
What did you think of this clip? Would you like to learn more about Dzherri? (I have literally over a hundred pages penned about him. He's one of my favorite characters.) How many names have your characters gone through?