Dusting his thumb on the powdered concrete floor, Niz checked the white powder between his fingers. His eyes gleamed dull and yet he continued through the bare vast room. The powder dusted his black coat's tails as he stood up and sighed.
"Drugs."
He said to no one in particular, for no reason other than to just say it out loud. Inspecting more of the empty room, he found nothing of note that would aid his journey. Disappointed, he climbed back the rickety stairs into the open area. Walking a couple steps away from the derelict building, he turned back and just looked it over from top to bottom.
Pulling a picture out of his pocket, he inspected the picture and the building before him. Both were the exact same, except the one standing before him looked like it had been through the end of the world. Shattered windows, missing paint and bricks, not to mention the choking air of disownment hung heavy all around this derelict place. He sighed as he put the picture back into his pocket, a trip made in vain. He had done a lot to ensure he wouldn't have empty hopes throughout his life and yet, here he was again, hoping things would be easier than spoon feeding a hole.
Lost in thought of his next step, Niz didn't see a black van speed all the way up to his side. It came to a screeching halt before him, making him flinch. He immediately stepped a good distance away but the passengers quickly exited, black ski masks adorning their faces, which he assumed to be ugly as all fuck underneath just because he could. They moved with blinding speed as one moved to grab his hands, which Niz quickly shot away with a well-placed punch to the jaw. The masked man fell to the floor with a heavy groan and some other guy quickly punched Niz in the face.
"Grab his hands! Bag his head!"
His jaw tingled and numbed as his wrists were quickly grabbed by another and tied with what he assumed to be cable ties.
With much difficulty, the masked uglies managed to put Niz into the van.
"He's in!"
Said one of them as they all got in and drove off, leaving behind a shaken but still moving group of onlookers to go about their days.
The ride in the van was bumpy and rudely wakeful. Niz did better and stayed silent as one of the men tended to his partner's nose, which was caked in red. It took him awhile for the bleeding to stop and when it did, he stood up to strike Niz over the face but Niz moved his head down, making the masked man miss and hit the wall of the van. Yelping in pain, he grabbed at his hand and sat back down, some other person smacking the back of his head and calling him stupid. Niz smiled under his black bag and turned his focus to his breath, feeling all he could feel, the turning of the van, the shifts in bumpiness as the asphalt road gave way to a dirt track and the dwindling levels of traffic noise.
Soon, the van had come to a halt as two men grabbed Niz. the doors swung open and they roughly threw him out. Niz fell flat to the ground. He got up on his knees and one of them kicked his back, making him roll over. Niz was then grabbed and shoved up into a brisk walk. He could hear a door be banged open and one of them ushering the rest to quicken the pace. The sounds of the open sky were suddenly muted as he passed through the door into whatever place they took him.
Throughout the entire time, Niz wasn't afraid for his life. Not for a single moment actually. The ugly men had subjected themselves to much trouble to bring him here, first with the van and then the onlookers, not to mention him fighting back 'playfully'. By know, he had already put two and two together. He investigated a building that was home to a drug operation and the moment he exited, the whole van-bag thing played out. He was surprised at their haste in doing so as well. Fear of things could be a factor, which he chalked up for future use.
They shoved him into a chair and tied him with rope again. Soon, one of them ripped the black cloth off his head, exposing him to a harsh white light. Squinting in the face of the light, Niz sighed and slowly let himself acclimate to the intensity of it.
"Rot away, rat."
By the time he is done dealing with the light, the door shuts behind him and he finds himself utterly alone in the room. Straining to hear, he listens to the sounds of the van doors being closed and the ignition sputtering before a screech and the van peeled out.
"Kidnapped."
Niz sighed out loud. He looked around and then at his seat. Noticing the rope, he grinned. His legs weren't tied.
"Hehehe, kidnapped buuuut not a kid."
-----
Medea laid lazily on her blue bed, staring up at the lit ceiling. It had been a day since she confronted her "friends". She sighed, knowing she wasn't the only one that had this happen to her. Her stomach churned thinking over how it all could have gone worse.
Sitting up and shaking her head to stop her thoughts, she got off the bed and just looked around her room, the one sanctuary she had. From past the walls, she heard the muffled voice of shouting. She knew that it was going to be bad, putting two boys and a gaming console together and yet, her foster parents decided otherwise. She groaned, her head going into her hands. Taking in some deep breaths, she fell back onto the bed. Her breathing was completely the focus of her concentration, her thoughts slowly fading away into blankness, soon to be replaced with nothingness.
Meditation.
The entire room peeled away in her mind, replaced by nothingness. Learning meditation was just something that she chanced upon one random day, back in the orphanage. A fellow looking for someone had been waiting for a very long time at the receptionist's desk and she observed him doing absolutely nothing. For a while, she thought he was sleeping on the bench.
Present day, she had gone on multiple internet-dives and had enough resources and info to meditate. It was the one thing amongst very few others that let her feel at peace in her skin whenever her mind refused to be at ease. She had long since made up her mind to join some classes as well but hadn't gotten around to it, which she now wanted to beat herself over.
Lunch was long since over and she'd done her part in the clean up. Wondering what to do next, Medea looked out the window at the still blue sky and the setting sun, taking in a deep breath. Thoughts of the day when that brown-eyed blonde had showed up at her doorstep flashed through for a second or two. A myriad of thoughts had crossed her mind, first of which being she would die in a minute, second of which being she would be hurt in a second. Then, he said that he wanted answers to some questions and she was the only one he could think of to turn to, she felt weirded out even more. Mentioning Niz… Even now, her spine goes cold at the thought of the look in his eyes.
She was lucky. Very lucky and she knew it. There was very little keeping her on the safe side- the 'more alive than dead' side. Even then, she wondered often how long would she be alive for and even if she was alive, would she remain sane?
Thoughts like these would plague her for long hours since that day in the alley. Meditation has been helping but there's only so much it could do when she remains utterly powerless. She swore up and down that she would join classes as soon as she can.
"Dead or alive… no difference now."
Medea sighed, resigned to her thoughts and the sanctuary of her room, the shouting from the other room clearly carrying over as footsteps climbed the stairs. There was the sound of a door opening and then relative silence.
She heard the protests of the arguing boys and then she heard the console being powered down. Grumbling and whines overtook the atmosphere but they were quickly replaced with begrudged footsteps. Soon enough, there was a knock on her door.
"Come in."
The door opened a crack and then some more. A figure leaned in, her brown eyes searching the room for a moment before landing on the lying Medea. A smile overtook her pale face as she spoke in a comforting tone,
"Hey, sorry about the noise, it took me a moment to deal with it, how are you?"
"I'm good, thanks for that."
Medea answered nonchalantly. Her foster mother looked at her quizzically. Something seemed amiss, she couldn't pin it though. She inquired,
"Are you sure?"
Medea glanced at her again before looking someplace else, not wanting to look into her eyes,
"Yeah, why?"
She looked at Medea, concerned now but still, ever patient. She knew how much it took to get someone to just talk and she would much rather not force it out of her lest she be counterproductive to her goals. Calmly now, she spoke clearly,
"Well… just a feeling."
"Uh huh."
Turning to leave, she was almost out the door when she decided on a different course of action. Whipping around to face Medea again, she spoke,
"You wanna go somewhere? Today's my cheat day, we could go… places!"
"Hmmm."
Medea replied absently.
"You don't have to if you don't want to."
Medea glanced back up and replied,
"Oh nothing like that, I could use a day out."
"Then?"
"I was just thinking…"
"About?"
Medea hesitated for a big moment. All of her wanted to just spill everything there and then, about Niz, about that alley, about the drugs, the friends, the late visit from a "friend", everything.
But she didn't.
"...Nothing in particular, I'll get ready now."
Her foster mum flashed her a beaming smile and chirped while heading down to get ready herself,
"Okay! Be in the car by 20!"
"Will be!"
And with that, Medea sighed. She should've said something. Anything at all and yet,
'Nothing in particular… '
-----
Creaking loudly, the door swung open as a couple men entered, waking Niz from his slumber. It took him a couple moments to orient himself but once he was, he spoke, chipper as ever,
"Hey there fellas. How's your day going? Mine's shit, I got tied up and thrown into a va-"
Thud.
One of the men landed a punch to Niz' face, rudely disrupting his opening up of his day.
"Cut the crap, cop fucker." He spat.
Niz chuckled, finding the puncher hilariously funny. The leader of these men, he supposed, was the one that stood before him, arms crossed over his bullish chest. Finding it within him to continue talking, Niz replied nicely,
"Well that's news to me. I haven't gotten my dick wet in awhile."
Before the punch-crazy one could bring his fist again, the leader spoke up, his tone demanding all of focus to himself,
"Who sent you?"
Chuckling once more, Niz felt that he could be as funny as he wanted and they would listen.
"Definitely no cop I've fucked. Last one was this chick a while ago. In the trunk of a SUV. Pretty fun, if you'd ask me."
The leader uncrossed his arms and took less than five steps to cross the holding room and reach Niz to grab his seat. Leaning it back a bit, he stared into and through his eyes. Speaking straight without a hint of bullshit,
"Who. Sent. You?"
Silence surrounded the people. None moved, eyes trained on Niz. Niz did nothing but stare back, looking deep in thought to the other observers. They thought he would crack in just another couple moments and spill.
And then he laughed. He laughed and laughed, only the sound of his one chilling laugh filling the bare room, cutting past the stare of all.
"He's a loon… we're wasting our time."
They shuffled around, two of the men heading for the door, bated breaths leaving their lungs. A sense of calm washed over their tense beings. A justified false sense of security. And then Niz stopped laughing.
"A fucking cop? Really? Hehehehe, always with the tunnel vision, didn't think you'd be found out, did you?"
Everyone froze in place, still as ice, all sense of safety blown away from their wings. The puncher, forehead slick with sweat, quickly panicked with,
"Do you think it's the bo-"
Another one cut him off before he could finish,
"No way. Too dumb to go after us."
The apparent leader of the group stepped away from the chair and waved his hand once. Everyone shut up and he spoke,
"That's enough. Board him."
Niz interjected feigning annoyance at their antics, "Board what board? Tell ya what, I'm the one that's bored here."
The puncher hesitated while pulling out the bag they brought Niz' head in.
"What if he's a cop?"
Niz spoke up before anyone could respond,
"A cop, a fed, your boss's man, same reason to go after you."
Looking back at Niz, the leader asked calmly,
"That is?"
Matter-of-factly, Niz responded,
"You lot are in hiding. Spooked. Your boss is unaware of your deeds… or is he?"
Scoffing, he turned around, waving at his men to move out.
"As if- a he?"
Everyone became silent again. They collectively came to the same conclusion.
Niz was bullshitting them.
Niz realized something was up. He cursed himself. Should've used 'they'. A split second decision was to be made. He either remained an entertaining fool to them and possibly do something to stay alive or become an immediate threat requiring to be dealt with.
"Alright, ya got me. I'm not adopted, I'm not your boss's guy either. Just a scavenger looking to make some cash and your drug dungeon was just a shot in the dark."
Silence, once more.
Punctured by a deep laugh.
This time, it was the leader's turn. He laughed so loud, it reversed in everyone's bones, making them laugh as well.
Just a couple moments ago, they were convinced they had lost their privileges to live and now, it was just a phony! A trickster out to trick them. Just their lucky day. They were keeling over, clutching their sides in laughter and relief.
It is at this point in time, everyone should know that each individual is with a talent and a flaw. More often than not, the talent and the flaw would be the sides of a coin. A coin ever so rarely flipped but when flipped, leads to that one moment that the one kissed by Lady Luck will think back upon as that one moment that will forever define them, as the survivor or the forgotten.
Niz' talent of this moment and moments prior and moments after remain his impeccably sharp tongue. His flaw of the past, the present and the near future also would be his sharp tongue's unwillingness to stop on the dot, even when his life depends on it.
And this… would be one of the many many many moments where Niz is supposed to look back upon and think, 'maybe if I'd kept quiet, things would've been different' but no. Niz won't look back on this moment. It's far too boring for him. The entire charade is boring. He simply wanted to check out the place, hit another place and then be back home for dinner and a call to his assistant but noooo, he just had to get himself nabbed and tortured through such boredom.
Niz refused to shut up.
"Hehehe, do you really think I, a cop, would know-"
Clearly annoyed at Niz' existence, the leader groaned in frustration and turned around,
"Know what, that you're the son of the whore I fucked a week ago?"
Slipping the frayed knot he had untied and loosely tied again, Niz calmly responded with,
"How rude of you to interrupt."
The leader slapped Niz across the face, his cheek turning a bright red
"What does lanky old scavenger 'you' know?"
Niz sighed, the rope now being held in his hands, still unseen.
"You took all the attention in the room from this vulture ."
"What?"
In the next couple moments, Niz moved his hands and legs in a wonderful harmony. A harmony in which the rope quickly leapt to the leader's neck before his eyes could fully open and a harmony in which his legs were split aside as Niz stood up and gracefully swung himself around him, the rope crossing its ends.
Realization hit the leader first but by then, none had even comprehended what had come to pass.
Pulling on the rope hard, Niz put him in a chokehold that threatened to snap his neck off. The disarray the men were in, from the shuffling to the stepping towards the door… all of it played well as Niz had thought.
They let their guard down.
Bending from his back, Niz lifted the bullish man off of his feet and into the air, legs swinging wildly. At this point in time, the ones watching were now aware of what was happening and they had begun to shout and pull at their guns.
Niz just twisted one way and pushed his back with enough of his might to send the choke-prone fool into his other man. Propelled just enough, Niz stepped forward into another man, gun drawn just enough for Niz to grab his hand and aim it somewhere else.
BANG
Gun went off, trail of smoke following after. Puncher was left with a hole in his throat, a gurgling overtaking him. Niz' other hand had already jammed a thumb into the shooter's eyes, squishing the left one into a bloody mess and the shooter into a screaming one.
The gun left his hand pretty swiftly after. Another bullet from it fired at the one by the door, his gun raised to eye level. Niz hit him once in the chest and then once more in the head, all the while circling around the bleeding mess and taking momentary cover behind him, holding him into place.
It didn't take much longer for the next bullet to ring, only this time, it came from the man at the door. He hit his own guy in the chest. Once, twice and then no more.
Niz felt the guy go limp and immediately fired a shot by the door, making the enemy flinch.
The leader gasped for air while the man he crashed into scrambled for his gun.
Niz let go of the mess of a man and raised the gun to see the sights. He fired a clean shot that rang out, hitting the scrambling one in one ear and most likely out the other, given the sight that followed.
He fired a warning shot to make the last one with the gun flinch again as he rushed up to him and punched him in the liver. It was quick. The man doubled over, unprepared for the hit and Niz kicked him in the head. He kicked him over and over, the man screaming out in pain as Niz drew blood from his face and scalp, clumping his hair and covering the floor.
Throughout the entire episode, Niz had a muted look on his face. There didn't seem to be much of any emotion in his expression or actions. Just unadulterated hunger for bloodlust and Niz was desperate to feed it.
A sickening crack resounded out. He had cracked the skull.
Not enough.
Niz bent down and picked him up, listening to him painfully plead for his life.
Snap.
Niz snapped his neck at a uniquely odd angle. It was a cross between a diagonal and straight up and back. He found the angle a little bit funny but there was still someone to deal with.
Then the mobile rang, bringing his attention to the leader on his knees, getting up.
Niz raised his gun and pulled the trigger to a damning click, no gunshot. No bullets. The leader looked around, taking in the bloodied sight. It was only just a moment of carelessness… the moment that damned them all. His thoughts were racing, to his work and his betrayal, to his need for work and his choice to betray… all of it caught up to him, in this one damned moment.
He smiled. Nothing else he wanted to do now but just accept the consequences.
"Pick up the damn phone!"
He looked up at Niz, glaring in annoyance at him, different gun pointing at him. It… the phone was ringing. "Boss" was calling.
"Pick it up, jackass!"
Click.
"...Yeah?"
A familiar voice spoke through, her voice dripping with damnation now instead of the trust he was familiar with ,
"The one thing, huh?"
He chuckled. Out of guilt or because it just happened, he didn't know. He didn't care either. Especially not for the fact that his situation had no favor for him now. Not anymore.
"Yeah. Pretty much it."
A short pause filled the phone.
"Get here."
Niz interjected immediately, grabbing the phone from him,
"Come get him. Some backroad warehouse."
"What is-"
Niz ended the call and looked to the man who couldn't meet his eyes for some reason. He seemed lost in thought.
"She sounds hot, I'm taking her number."
The man looked up at Niz, his face twisting in confusion. He sighed, thinking to himself how foolish he was.
"Go ahead, not like any of… not like you'll live to talk about it."
"So the same as you."
The same as everyone else, nothing special… about betrayal. It is made to happen.
-----
At the register sat a blonde young man, fiddling with a pair of coffee beans he had pocketed from the kitchen. He twiddled them around his nimble fingers, aimless in their regard. It had been a slow day and Nora had left a while ago. The manager hadn't come in today. Now, he had to get out the books and make some entries too.
Ryan sighed, shoulders slumped. It gets real boring without people but then again, without people is where he started.
The phone rang, the beans slipping from his grip. He sighed and picked up the call.
"Uncle Poe's Cafe, how may I be of service?"
there was a short pause as the caller registered the information for a minute. Ryan wasn't sure of what was happening.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end from a tired yet alive woman responded,
"Hi yes, this is the University Hospital. A patient was admitted into our care and the billing number given to us was this one."
"A patient?"
Ryan inquired quizzically. This was the first he had heard of any such thing. He knew of Poe's wife and all but not of hospital admissions.
"This is the young man who came in with the stabbing victim, yes?"
Ryan was utterly confused and unprepared for this.
"Uhh… no? You may have the wrong number?"
"But this card-"
The voice cut off as sounds of rapid fumbling about were heard. Ryan inquired cautiously,
"Hello?"
The woman sighed as she responded with,
"I'm terribly sorry, I found the right number, it was on the other side of the card."
"Oh. That's alright- wait hold on, I think you mean my... coworker?"
Ryan's train of thought immediately jumped rails as his curiosity took the better of him. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best.
"I… guess?"
He sighed in relief. Putting his phone on speaker, he immediately began to fumble with the handset checking through his call logs, thinking of a specific date and time. At the same time, he responded nonchalantly with,
"Look, that's alright, Jake just got off the phone telling me about it. I could confirm the number for you, he has a bad habit of messing up the last two digits."
The woman on the other end seemed curious and would much rather not waste her time placing a dead call so she said,
"Oh really? Well thank you then, some good out of this call."
Landing on the date and time, a single fitting log, Ryan spoke of in agreement and asked,
"So the number you have is?"
"Nine-four-five…"
Checking the first three digits, he found them to match.
"Nine-four-five, that is correct."
She continued reading off of the cafe card,
"Seven-seven-six."
"That is… right as well."
Another match.
"What are the remaining digits?"
Ryan did not expect her to question his story. He panicked as he checked the log once again, his mouth having dried up since the fourth digit onwards,
"Two-two-one, is that right?"
There was a long pause as the Ryan crossed his fingers, hoping for a positive outcome.
"Yes, that's what's here."
He sighed to himself, his mind racing. Even on the spot, he managed to get out relatively successfully. He remembered he was on call and ended the co-worker track with,
"Great! You have the right number."
The woman breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she was smart to withhold the most important info. She mentally patted herself on the back as Ryan ended the call with,
"Thank you, have a good day."
She responded in like,
"Thank you too, have a good day."
He placed the phone down, his hands clammy and sweaty. He just lied to a stranger for no apparent reason whatever, not to mention he made Niz to be a cafe worker instead of… whatever he was. It took a couple of seconds of deep breaths for him to calm down.
A stabbing victim and Niz. Another thing that just made the mystery more intriguing and deeper.
He checked the clock on the wall and then stood up to flip the sign. Doing that, he trudged back to the office and brought out a book, his mind present completely elsewhere. His fingers were flipping through the brittle-ish papers but his thoughts only tried to make sense of the whens and the whys and the hows of this situation he just became aware of. Whether Niz was responsible and to what extent, whether he was a danger to people like he had been thinking, what could he himself do about it and before he knew it, he had long been turning blank pages. Sighing, he went back to the proper one and grabbed a pen off the desk. The monitor beeped on once Ryan repeatedly tapped the spacebar. Navigating with his free hand, he clicked a couple times and before much longer, today's file was up and ready.
Straight from the register, there was a list of each item and its sales. On the service side, this was a breeze to handle but the inventory logging was a pain doing alone.
Deciding on doing one half of all that work properly, he began to write it all out by hand. The manager had a thing for keeping this stuff on paper as well as on a file, much to the annoyance of Ryan. If it already existed and was complete in one place, why even do anymore than that?
He never answered that but insisted on the existence of a paper trail for every day the cafe was open and every day the cafe was closed.
He continued writing it all out and then put the pen away, powered down the PC and shut the book.
His thoughts kept jumping back and forth but ultimately, he decided now was no time to deal with it. Instead, he stood up and walked out the office, placing his apron on the hook and grabbing the keys. Walking out to the dining area, he did one last look around at the empty tables and the deepening blue sky. Shutting the doors tight, he drew the blinds and locked it twice. Ensuring it wouldn't budge, he set out the back, grabbing his backpack on the way.
Walking out into the chilly atmosphere, chills ran through his spine, making him shiver. He tightened the backpack to him and began the walk home, thinking about how long it takes to walk all the way home.
'A bike would be nice.'