Even though it was dark and a dusty window separated the two of us, I could tell that he was heavily muscled. He wore a bandanna and sunglasses on his head, and a black biker's jacket.
"Hey!" He roared.
He punched through the window with one hand and grabbed my ankle, throwing me into the room with one pull. I bled from cuts on the glass, but the man who towered above me appeared to be unharmed.
Why didn't Sugar Rush kick in? Had I already maxed it out?
"I asked you a question." His voice was deep and gravelly.
I looked around to me to try to get a sense of who I was dealing with. It was cluttered with empty bottles of cola and pizza boxes. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the room, which was smaller than the one I stayed at. It had only one bed, but there were too many clothes lying about for there only to be this one person staying here.
"I—I'm sorry," I stammered. "I was only trying to get down to the second floor."
"What's wrong with the elevator?"
"It's not working."
"And why is that!?" He yelled as he cracked his knuckles.
"You think I had something to do with it?"
"Would I be wrong?" He cracked his other set of knuckles. "On my way back from my cola run I ran into a lot of people, but none of them were moving. And now here you are, moving."
"You're moving, too!"
"That's my Sugar! Take a peek, you've never seen anything like it!"
He made a camera button gesture with his hand over his eye, as if to prompt me to contact the Hotel's daemon.
"Okay, um. Hey, Princess?"
He moved like lightning and flashed a punch that launched the back of my head into the floor.
"What the hell did you just call me, pretty boy!?"
"Princess!" I yelled in panic, still seeking help.
I took another punch to the face. I could tell that the sensation of pain and my tolerance for it was dulled, but this was still rough. If I could reach out to Princess, I could see the Sugar level of the guy I was dealing with or at least get an idea of what his ability was or why he escaped being crunched along with everyone else.
"Call me that one more time, pretty boy!" He put on a pair of brass knuckles.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry! Hell, I'm sorry! It's her name! Her name, not yours, I promise!"
"What do you mean her name?"
"The... the daemon, right? The one that runs the Hotel? Magically speaking?"
He immediately stopped fiddling with the brass knuckles.
"The... the daemon..."
"Yes."
"She told you her name..."
"Yes."
Then something completely unexpected happened.
His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the ground, his eyes buried in his hands.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
"What's... what's the matter, man?" I was just grateful that he seemed to be done punching me in the face for the moment.
"I have been begging for her name for years..."
"She doesn't tell everyone her name?"
"Only the Sugar Daddies she believes in...."
"That's rough, buddy."
"I don't need any of your sass!"
He stood up quickly and violently. He put a boot to my chest and pressed down, taking the air out of my lungs. "I don't know what you did, but I know you didn't do it on purpose, which makes you powerful, but stupid, and that makes you dangerous. A bad combination for anybody who's trying to be the next Sugar Patriarch. Tell me, man. Is that what you're trying to do?"
I don't know why I said what I said. I still didn't have a clear idea of who the Sugar Patriarch was. I didn't know what he did, what he was supposed to do, or what the requirements were for becoming him. Only that he was important, political, and that having a lot of Sugar helped. But from the moment I heard the name, I felt a pull. If I had thought longer, I would have answered differently, in deference to my life, but at the time, the trueness of what I did say mixed with the urgings of integrity and honor to override any early objection.
"Yes. I am going to be the new Sugar Patriarch."
The man in the bandanna roared with laughter.
"This is cute, but someone is going to get hurt," the guy said. "I've got to nip this in the bud before you do any more damage. From now on, it's my sworn duty to prevent you from ever becoming the Sugar Patriarch. Do you understand that, guy? And I might as well take care of the whole thing now."
"What are you going to do, kill me!? I'm trying to fix my mistake!"
"I'm going to bet that killing you will fix the problem."
I grimaced. "You at least going to let me stand up first?"
"Fine," he said, spitting on the ground. "Now, do a read on me."
"You going to punch me again?"
"Nah, we're done playing."
"Fine. Hey, Princess!"
"Yes?" she said with a yawn from a place in the air, and based on the guy's reaction, it seemed like he was able to hear it, too. "Oh, hello Matterhorn."
"Hello... Mistress."
"Give me a status report on... Matterhorn, please, Princess," I said.
"Here."
The now familiar blue screen popped up before my face, this time with Matterhorn's information.
=================
Subject: M-47204
Name: Matthew Matterhorn
Sugar Levels: 100^
Sugar Babies: Three
- Torque
- Lockjaw
- Ironbound
Known Abilities: Caramelization, Escape Artist
=================
"Only 100?"
You could hear a pin drop in the room.
"... excuse me? What do you think you're working with?"
"My Sugar levels right now say twenty-five hundred, but usually the level is at forty-nine hundred. Bridgid told me it could get higher than that, though, now that I've been through the Shower."
"You are lying to me!"
He punched a hole to the wall on his right.
"You are a lying dirtbag! You're just mad because you're jealous at how high my levels are compared to yours!"
"Did you... did you do a check on me?"
His arm was still in the hole in the wall. "No."
"Do it," I said confidently.
"... Mistress. Status report on this dude. Please."
"Here."
=================
Subject: R-01917
Name: Theodore MacBride
Sugar Levels: 3,000^
Sugar Babies: None
Known Abilities: Sugar Rush
=================
"This is impossible."
"Afraid not, Matterhorn," Princess said.
"I just beat the ever-living shit out of him, and I'm about to do it again! How can this weakling have a Sugar level of three thousand!?"
"Three thousand?" I asked. "My levels are going back up!"
"Enough of this! Get wrecked."
He charged at me, and despite my earlier confidence I still felt like a deer in the headlights against what was definitely a huge a very capable man wanting to kill me.
Before he could go through with his intent, however, Bridgid burst through the window, face wiped off and dress back on and a sword in one hand, with which she pointed at Matterhorn's chest from a position between me and him.
"I'm not letting you get away with me saving you," she said. "But you're new to this body. And you provided a generous helping of Sugar earlier, so consider this a bonus lesson. Now, keep your piss in your pants, please. I don't want a poor performance casting aspersions on the Sisters' name."
"Bridgid?" Matterhorn whined.
"It's time to back down."