Disclaimers:
This short story uses characters and situations created by Rob Tapert and Sam Rami of Renisance Pictures.  It is an homage, not intended to benefit me in any material way, or to harm their or USA studio's intelectual property.  The story contains depictions of violence, and refrence to sexual violence, oh, and some very bad spelling and grammar.  (Our protaganist is a man of limited education)  If you enjoy the story, please take a moment to let me know.

Nalius was having a very good day.

He'd risen at the crack of noon, as usual, with a brisk splash of water from the barman's bucket.  A couple of rousing kicks to his ribs, and he was up and about.  Leaving the tavern to open for the day's business, and himself off for another day as one of the Chancellor's elite jailers.

With plenty of time before his shift, Nalius had time to take care of some personal business.  He made his way to the docks, where some beggars of his acquaintance were intimidated enough by his soiled, and rumpled uniform to part with most of their meagre earnings for the day.  With this stake, he proceeded to a gaming establishment, intent on raising his fortunes.  As it turned out, the dealer was some new kid, who didn't know a card from his own arse, and Nalius was able to use almost all of his repitoir of card tricks to build a respectable pile of coppers in front of him.  Naturally, when the pit boss started giveing him the eye, he beat feet outa there.

Now that his pockets were lined, it was back to the tavern, for a mid-afternoon pick-me-up, and something to eat.  The greasy stew with the bits of yellow stuff was up to the establishment's usual standards, so he had another belt to help himself keep it down, and after that, another just seemed like the thing to do ...

When he showed up for his shift at the prison he saw that jerk Malachi stumbling off towards the inn sporting a be-yo-tiful shiner.

"Prolly someone got sick of Mr. Perfect tellin' 'em what tae do."  Thought the little man,  " 'e tinks 'es so good since 'e made watch corporal, ah 'mbere when dat kid worked fer me 'ere in da cells. 'Bout time 'e got 'is."

When Nalius reported to the captain of the guard, and braced to attention for his briefing, his eyes were drawn to the cap'n's tunic.  There he saw mud, yes mud on the sumbitch's uniform.  After all the reports, all the punishment duty, all the times his pay had been suspended, the cap'n hisself had violated the uniform code!  Next time he got caught with his tunic rumpled, or didn't have time to shave, or whatever piddly little shite, he'd have something to say, yes he would, next time...

The Cap'n was going on about some sort of trouble they'd had in town today, something about a prisoner he was supposed to keep a close eye on.  Nalius wasn't really paying much attention, his stew was trying to come back on him.  Besides, how much trouble could one prisoner be?

Nalius was particularly happy when he saw the new prisoner in cell two.  The cap'n had said to watch her, and her surely would.  She'd been worked over pretty good, but he could see that she was some looker under the dirt and bruises.  Later on in the shift, Nalius could have a little fun.  She had been manacled to the back wall of the cell, like they did with dangerous prisoners, or the ones they wanted to teach a lesson to.   She was probably some whore who had ticked off the chancellor.  It happened every now and then, when some slut wouldn't do what the chancellor wanted.   Funny eyes tho...

Nalius was settled behind his rickety little desk, his secret stash of wine safely hidden away, trying to ignore the drunk in #5,  (why for zeussake did every hadesbedamned drunk think he was Orpheus) , when a couple of  those uppity watch guys dragged in a little blonde bit 'o fluff.

"Nalius!  Git over 'ere.  Got a pretty one for ya this time."

"Aye sir, Right here!  What c'n I do fer ye sir!"

"Just lock her up 'till morning.  The charge is public disturbance."

The blonde was muttering something about not being drunk, while the other watchman held her up, and looking around like she was trying to remember where she was.  The little jailer  scurried over to his desk to find the scrolls for minor offences, chuckling under his breath at his good fortune.  This was too good!  Two pretty little things in one night, life just didn't get better than this!

By the time Nalius finished the scrollwork, and got rid of the watch pansies, the slag was standing, more or less on her own, and staring past him at cell 2.  That wasn't right.  She was suposed to be looking at Nalius, trembling in fear, begging for mercy, stuff like that.  Nalius looked behind him, and saw the prisoners blue eyes a'starin right back at the little blonde.

Finally the little chickie looked back at him and her eyes filled with something like the fear he was used to.  She rushed over to him and clutched at his tunic.

"Oh please sir, I'm sorry for what I did, but please don't put me in there with that!"

Nalius' response was an insightful "Huh?"

"That ... that ... woman, I heard them speak of her in the square, please kind sir, I couln't bear it."

At this Nalius, not wanting to repeat himself, just stared at the young girl.  She dropped her voice, as if speaking of something horrible.

"She does ... things ... to girls like me."

With growning understanding Nalius replied, "Um ..."

The blonde spoke more slowly.

"She has unnatural lusts, which she slakes on the bodies of young innocent girls."

This really confused Nalius.  He knew what lust was, he knew lust very well, but it had always seemed the most natural thing in the world to him.  His brow furrowed as an idea began to beat against the outside of his skull, demanding entrance.

"Just look at her"

Nalius looked back at cell #2 and found the prisoner with her funny eyes fixed on the little bint at his side.  He knew that look, it was the look that a rat got when it saw cheese, the look a cat got when it saw a rat, and the look he got when a tavern wench had had too much to drink. The idea entered his skull, and burst upon his consciousness in a blaze of lechery.  A smile oozed across the weasly little man's face as he considered the possibilities.

"I tink we needs tae find out a little more 'bout dese 'tings' cutie."

"No!!  Oh Gods No!!"

The little spitfire was struggling as Nalius dragged her towards the cell door.  All the time the blue-eyed pervert was staring at the little one's body.  Fumbling with his keys, Nalius managed to get the door open one handed, and started into the cell.  The blonde really didn't want to come with him, she latched onto the bars with both hands and held on for dear life.  The jailer got a good hold with both hands, set his feet, and started hauling back.  Pull, and pull, and just one more should do it ...

He caught a glimpse of links before his eyes, and his throat closed up.  His hands flew up and yanked at the chain which was wrapped tightly around his throat.  The blonde, being released, let go of the bars, and reached for the keys on his belt.

The last thing he saw before blacking out was the dark prisoner leaning forward over his shoulder to share a passionate kiss with a suddenly very willing blonde.

Nalius woke to a familiar bucket of cold water, and sighed with relief.  Things were back to normal.

"Must've been one'a them there dreams or summat."

He opened his eyes, expecting to see his old friend the barkeep.

The Cap'n, Malachai, and the Chancellor didn't look happy.  He tried to jump to attention, and realized why his hands were behind him, they were chained there, and he was ... Ah Zeus .. he was naked.

This day wasn't starting out to be a good one.