//------------------------------//
// Prologue 
// Story: Portals: Beyond The Pail (Book 5 In The Portals Series) 
// by The Derpy Doctor 
//------------------------------//

	Blast looked up to see twelve disturbing-looking men. All of them glared at him with distasteful looks.
Another man in crutches finally made his way into the room. Blast recognized him as the man he had fought about a month ago. The man’s eye twitched as he arrived.
“Why didn’t you kill him already?” came the man.
Silence was his response until one man gained the nerve to step forward and speak.
“We thought you would like to do the honors. You were the man he injured. You also hired all of us to get him. He’s yours to kill.”
The man smiled weakly as if to acknowledge that it was a true observation.
He drew a gun and pointed it at the stallion’s head.
“Last words?” he offered.
“If you would please allow, I would like my last words to be an answered question.”
The man rolled his eyes.
“Fine.”
Blast responded, “Of the assassins you hired, which ones are here?” His voice came out shaky and worried.
“What?” asked the man as he stared blankly in search of a reason for asking something so off-subject from a regular last few words.
“Of the assassins you hired, which ones are here?” he came, even shakier.
The man turned around and counted each of the men that surrounded him.
He finished counting and glared at the unicorn. “It’s not an unreasonable question.” He thought to himself.
“All of them,” was the final response of the angry human.
It was music to Blast’s ears.
He glared up at the cripple: more smug than blaming.
“All of them?” he spoke, his mouth curling over mostly the right side as he was finally going to finish off the conflict with one swift movement.
Blast’s lips curled into a crooked smile, before he attacked with his signature move. He placed the Blizzard ability of his bomb underneath the 	chair he was sitting on, gave Bellus a wink and teleported out of the building and down the block some ways. Looking back on the scene, he heard the sound of the bullet Bellus was shooting go right through the back of the chair that he had just gotten out of. With the struggle of having so many enemies all “going swiftly into that good night,” He trotted down the street as the small, cluttered room became no more than a shattered mess of humans and rubble.
“All of them,” Blast said to himself, as he stepped into the portal archway, “all of them are gone.”