Work has been kicking my ass! But, here's Chapter Three!
Sorry for the slow start but trust me, it will get good. Can't give you guys too much at once or I'll just be spoiling you.
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Enjoy, my lovelies!
Chapter Three: Haunted
The gang member stumbled back with a grunt as my foot connected with his chest and then I landed another blow with the bat he had tried to use against me. The impact with his head instantly knocked him unconscious. His limp body fell to the ground with a heavy thud. I tossed the bat on top of him and turned to face the remaining five men dressed in black. Their faces were covered with bandanas and low brimmed hats to hide their identities from the cameras of the jewellery store they had just finished breaking into and robbing. We were standing in the alleyway a block away and I was the only thing standing in their way of freedom.
"Get outta the way!" one of the robbers shouted angrily from behind his mask.
I grinned. "Make me," I replied in my deep, gruff voice.
Challenge accepted, apparently. Two of them lunged forward at me and I was moving without even thinking. It was all muscle memory by that point in time. I dodged the first fist to land a blow against the attacker's side. He stumbled and the second attacker swung. I quickly ducked and kicked his legs out from underneath him. The loud crack of my fist connecting with his face echoed through the alleyway and his body went limp.
Two out of six.
The three attackers who hadn't moved yet decided it was their turn. I reached over to grab the lid off a metal garbage can beside me. I didn't think they still made metal garbage cans. Seemed strange but it was there. I blocked the first attack with the lid and then used it to strike the attacker.
Three out of six.
The second attacker tried to get me from the side. I ducked and grabbed the handle of the lid to hold it like a shield against my arm. I swung backwards, using my entire body as momentum to slam the lid against the attacker who stumbled and slammed against the wall of the building.
Four out of six.
The third attacker kicked the lid out of my hand and then landed a blow to my stomach. I curled in on myself as I stepped back and blocked the next kick aimed for my head. "Ah!" I screamed as something sharp pierced my arm. It wasn't long, but it dug into the flesh and I could feel it scrape against my bone. The attacker in front of me kicked again. I stopped his leg and threw him into his partner. They both went down with a loud grunt. I grabbed the knife that stuck out from my arm and slowly removed it. Pain shot through my body with something else that instantly dulled the sensation. Adrenaline. The knife clattered against the ground and I panted heavily. Anger boiled my blood as I watched the robbers get up from the ground. They faced me and both lunged forward at the same time.
Snap! An elbow bent backwards with a loud scream.
Five out of six.
Crack! A knee kicked in from the side.
Both attackers were on the ground writhing in pain and I had to blink a few times. I had been lost in a haze of limbs and fury and was slowly drifting back to reality. I looked around the area and scoffed.
Six out of six.
"I guess the workout regiments are actually paying off," I said with a grin as I stepped over the unconscious bodies to grab the bags full of stolen jewellery that had been dropped at the mouth of the alley. "It was a pleasure, boys, but unfortunately, you couldn't quite pass the test."
I stepped out of the alleyway to make my way down the sidewalk back towards the jewellery store. I was a building away when the first police car came screeching to a halt. The officer quickly sprang from the driver's side, weapon drawn and ready with the barrel pointed directly at me. She had long, brown hair thrown up into a high ponytail and intense eyes.
"Stop right there!" she shouted, finger ready on the trigger.
I did as she said. The bags were heavy in the hand attached to my uninjured arm. I tossed them forward slightly and the woman's eyebrows slowly furrowed together as she looked down at them and then quickly back up at me.
I rolled my eyes. "It's all there. Plus, there's six guys in an alley just down the street ready to be taken to the hospital in handcuffs. You might want to hurry. I don't know how long they'll stay down for," I explained and then turned to head towards the gap between the jewellery store and the building next to it.
"Hold on!" the officer shouted. I stopped with a sharp sigh. "Vigilantism is a crime, Mysterion. I—I have to take you in."
I threw my head back with a slow inhale through my nose. Dealing with the police was starting to get annoying. They were like a fly that would keep buzzing around your head no matter how many times you'd swat it away. They never posed any real threat. They were pretty useless, but fuck were they annoying as all hell to avoid. I let my head fall to the side to look at the woman who stiffened her shoulders.
"Then do it," I taunted the woman and she swallowed noticeably. "I've been running around these streets for a year now and no one's even come close to catching me. Which means, the entire Denver police department is completely incompetent, or you all don't want to catch me because you know I'm doing some fucking good for this city," I explained and the officer blinked. I hit a nerve somewhere, but I wanted to hear which one straight from her. "So, which is it, officer? Because I'd really like to know. Incompetence or admiration?"
The high-pitched sirens of the incoming police cars grew louder from the distance. My heart was racing but I kept my stoic expression as I stared at the police officer. She stared back at me, her gun still pointed at me. She was a stubborn one but I could see the gears grinding in her head. She rolled her shoulders and let out a loud sigh when the sirens were getting dangerously close. She dropped her weapon and slid it back into the holster on her hip. I finally breathed but didn't drop my stiff stance.
"Get the hell out of here, Mysterion, before my backup shows up and we have no choice," the officer ordered in a flat voice.
I grinned and ducked into the alley before the police cars whipped around the corner to join their partner.
"Well, that could have gone a hell of a lot worst," Stan's voice snapped in my ear. I rolled my eyes as I climbed up the fire escape to the top of the building. "She could have arrested you and then what the hell would you have done?"
I reached the top of the ladder and started to jog across the rooftop. My morning runs with Stan were really paying off. I had a lot more stamina than I did before we started. It also gave me more strength when I fought.
"She wasn't going to arrest me," I replied.
We were speaking through the small device lodged in my ear. Something Kyle bought off the internet. It was some sort of high-frequency walkie talkie that was usually used by military or something. I asked Kyle how much it cost him and he just shrugged his shoulders as he made a loud, incoherent noise. It had a range all over Denver and Kyle got four. One for each of us and an extra one just in case. I was skeptical about it at first but it was actually a good idea. When Kyle and Stan were home, they could keep an eye on the news and social media and tell me if anything was going on somewhere I didn't know about. It made me a hell of a lot more efficient, even if I had to deal with obsessive nagging occasionally. Plus, if I got into trouble and needed them to find me, they were easy enough to reach rather than using my phone and risking it being taken by someone.
"You don't know that," Stan answered, his mouth full of something crunchy.
"What the hell are you eating?" I asked and vaulted over the rise that divided two rooftops connected to each other.
"Popcorn. I'm watching a movie," Stan answered and threw more food into his mouth. I could hear the loud crunching. "Morgan. It's pretty fucked up, dude."
"You're watching that without me!" I snapped. "Dick! I told you I wanted to see it."
"You always say you want to watch a movie so we stay up until you get back from patrol, put it on, and you fall asleep within the first half hour," Stan explained and I opened my mouth to reply but he kept talking. "You can try to say that I'm wrong, but you know that I'm right. No matter how stubborn you are, you know I'm right, so just don't say anything."
I closed my mouth and chuckled. "Damn, Stanley, what's got your panties in a bunch tonight?" I asked.
"Work was fucked up tonight. Some guy beat his kid's dog for barking too much," he explained and I slowed down to stop at the edge of a roof.
"Dude, that's fucked up," I replied, my eyebrows furrowed together.
"Yeah, the dog's okay though. He had a broken leg and some internal bleeding, but he's okay now," Stan said and I could hear the strain in his voice. "It was just—."
"Fucked up," I finished for him and he hummed in agreement.
I had taken a few steps back before getting a running start to leap from the roof and grab onto the metal scaffolding along the side of the building that couldn't be accessed from the ground. I slammed against the metal with a loud grunt and sighed.
"You alright?" Stan asked worriedly.
I chuckled and lifted myself over the railing to start climbing the stairs. "I'm fine. Nothing I haven't done before," I said smugly and Stan scoffed. "Where's Kyle? Shouldn't he be home by now?"
"He messaged me like two hours ago saying he was going out for drinks with some of his study peers. I guess he's still drinking," Stan explained and shoved more popcorn into his mouth.
"I don't know how he does it. It's July and he's tutoring. During the summer you're supposed to relax from school but he decides to integrate himself into more school," I noted and Stan sighed loudly. "I don't get it."
"He needed a second job from the bookstore," he explained. "They couldn't give him enough hours, tutoring pays well, and Kyle can pick his hours. It's a pretty good gig. He gets to teach a bunch of numbskulls and gets paid an ass load for it."
I stopped climbing the stairs for a moment to hold onto the railings and narrowed my eyes. "I—I don't think you're allowed to say that while you're taking about him, Stanley," I mentioned.
"What? Say wha—?" he started to ask but stopped himself to groan loudly in disgust. I grinned wickedly and continued up the stairs. "Fuck you, Kenny. I wasn't even thinking."
"I know, that's what makes it so funny," I replied and climbed over the short wall.
"You're an asshole and I hate you," Stan growled but I didn't respond. "Kenny?" he asked. "Kenny, did you fall off a rooftop finally? Oh, please tell me you fell off a rooftop," he said with a chuckle that didn't last long. "Okay, seriously dude, don't—."
"Ah!" I screamed as I leaned over the top of the couch.
"Holy fuck!" Stan shrieked and popcorn flew all over the place. I didn't hold back the eruption of laughter that exploded from me. "Dammit Kenny, don't do that!" Stan yelled, paused his movie and grabbed a hand full of popcorn to throw it at me.
"Hey, don't waste food," I said between heavy breaths and popped a kernel into my mouth.
"You can eat them all off the floor then since it's your fault," he snapped and set the bowl down next to him on the couch. "I hate you so much."
"I'm aware, but can you hate me and patch up my arm at the same time?" I asked with a wide, toothy grin.
Stan exhaled and his face fell into an unamused expression. "What did you do this time?" he asked.
"Got stabbed," I answered and moved my arm to show the wound. "It's just my arm. Doesn't even really hurt, but I'm bleeding quite a bit. Will you kiss it better?"
Stan rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the couch. "Come on, idiot," he said and led the way up the stairs to the bathroom.
I released my cape from my neck to hang it on the back of the door as Stan rummaged through the cupboards for the first aid kit. I carefully removed my shirt over my head and examined the hole in the fabric. "Awe man, I have to sew this thing again," I groaned and dropped the shirt in the sink before I hopped up on to the vanity.
"If you stopped getting stabbed, you wouldn't have to sew up your costume so much and I wouldn't have to sew you up so much," Stan explained and stood with the first aid kit in his hands.
"But then we wouldn't have these wonderful bonding moments I enjoy so much," I replied with a wide grin.
Stan frowned. "You stab yourself on purpose, don't you? Just to make me do this," he asked suspiciously.
I wiggled my eyebrows at him and he set the kit down beside me as I laughed. "Imagine if I did. That would make me a complete lunatic," I said and Stan opened the kit to grab the first thing he always grabbed: alcohol swab.
"You are a complete lunatic," Stan stood in front of me to say. Even on the vanity, I wasn't as tall as him. We were almost the same height, but not quite. I think it was his hair.
I hummed as I rocked my head back and forth. "Yeah, I guess you're—ouch! Holy shit!" Stan laughed. The pain came from the alcohol swab pressed to my wound. It always caught me by surprise how fucking much it stung. "Dammit, Stanley, give a guy a little warning next time."
"Don't be such a baby," Stan replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Revenge? Is that what this is?" I asked and hissed when Stan pressed into the wound again.
He nodded quickly. "Abso-fucking-lutely," he answered smugly.
I groaned as Stan finished cleaning the wound. It may have sucked, but nothing was worst than the needle and thread that Stan pulled from the kit. He was better at it all since we first started. He would say that working at the animal hospital made him better for helping me, but I think it was the other way around. I held on tightly to the edge of the vanity as the needle poked through my skin. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep myself from screaming. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as the first few times. I was pretty sure I was becoming resilient to pain. Was that a good thing? Probably not.
"Good thing is, the knife missed your snake," Stan spoke up after a long stretch of silence in my pain.
I hummed in response, unable to actually make out any words in my situation.
He was referring to the tattoo that wrapped around my right arm. The end of the tail of the snake started just below my elbow. The body wrapped around my upper arm and the head ended just below my collarbone. I had tattoos all along both arms but my snake was the largest one. Stan had a few just on his left arm. A small owl on his wrist. A compass on his forearm. A strange symbol he said symbolized good luck just below his shoulder. And the word REX just beside the symbol. We had gradually accumulated the tattoos since we moved to Denver. Each time one of us wanted a tattoo, the other went and got one too. Kyle wasn't into tattoos, but we did manage to convince him to get the two piercings on his right eyebrow when we had enough alcohol in him. He was pissed when he woke up the next day, but he quickly got over it when he realized it didn't look that bad.
"I'm almost done, just one more time," Stan said and I groaned loudly as the needle poked through my skin for the final time. He tied up the thread, bandaged the wound, and examined his handy work with a small smile. "Not bad if I say so myself," he said proudly.
"Thank you, Doctor Marsh," I sang with a wide grin.
"You know, I kind of like the way that sounds," he beamed proudly.
"Do I get a lollipop for being a good little boy?" I asked with a seductive voice that made Stan instantly frown.
"Why do you have to ruin it every single time?" he asked with a sigh.
I chuckled but it was cut off when we heard the main door downstairs open and then slam shut followed by a soft thud. Stan and I looked at each other with confused expressions. "Is that Kyle?" I asked. Stan shrugged his shoulders and opened the door to poke his head out. "Hey, Ky—!" I started to shout but was stopped when Stan quickly whipped back around to clamp his hand over my mouth. He quickly turned the light off and I could see him press his finger to his lips from the light that came from the glow of the television downstairs. My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as Stan slowly took his hand away from my mouth.
Silence passed over until I heard it. Soft moans and gasps from downstairs. I looked at Stan with wide eyes and he nodded rapidly. Footsteps moved and thumped up the stairs. Stan and I shifted so the door was only open a crack but that both of us could peek through. Kyle reached the top of the stairs first and turned as an unknown brunet wrapped a pair of long arms around him to pull him close. Their lips connected and I reached out to grab Stan's shoulder. He had to cover his mouth to stifle whatever noise was about to leap from his throat. I shook him almost violently to keep myself from making a noise loud enough to be heard a block away. Kyle and his date were handsy as they shuffled awkwardly with each other. Kyle was pressed roughly against his bedroom door across the small hallway from where we watched and he fumbled to find the doorknob as the brunet grabbed the bottom of his shirts. The door swung open. Kyle's shirts were removed and he sighed as the brunet's mouth latched onto his neck. They stepped into the darkness of Kyle's room and the door slammed shut. Awkward silence loomed in the air. Stan quietly closed the bathroom door and he sat on the floor as we both let out quiet laughter.
"Holy shit, I didn't think he had it in him," I whispered and reached over to turn on the small nightlight we all agreed to use when we moved in to make walking around in the dark easier.
"What do you think? Fellow tutor or numbskull?" Stan asked with a wide grin.
I shook my head. "Too pretty to be a tutor," I answered and we both snorted into laughter again. I was practically crying when Stan suddenly stopped laughing with a long sigh. "What—What's wrong?" I asked, stifling my laughter.
"My room is right next to his," he groaned and tilted his head back to rest it against the wall.
"Just come sleep in my room. Bring your laptop and we'll watch movies until we fall asleep," I suggested and Stan didn't refuse. So that's what we did for the night. We watched movies on his laptop until I fell asleep first and he fell asleep soon after me. We woke the next morning to warm light and a loud horn honking outside. We poked our heads out from the bedroom to look around as if we were planning some great escape from our prison cell. "Do you think he spent the entire night?"
"I didn't hear the door at all, so I think so," Stan answered.
We were quiet as we started our morning and continuously kept glancing up the stairs in anticipation of any movement. We sat at the dining table with our bowls of cereal and coffee and the television turned on low as we waited. We had barely said anything to each other. We were too focused. I lifted a spoon full of cereal up to my mouth but stopped when the floorboards creaked above. Finally. Stan and I both looked up and then at each other with wide smiles.
"Someone's up," I sang.
"Maybe they're both up," Stan replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Should we be nice or completely ruthless this morning?" I asked with my elbow on the table and my chin on my palm.
Stan lifted his mug to take a sip of his coffee. "Well, considering this is Kyle we're talking about—," he said, dragging on the last word before he took a loud sip of his drink.
"Completely fucking ruthless?" I asked.
Stan nodded quickly. "Absolutely," he answered with a whispered voice and set his mug down.
I chuckled and a door opened. We both leaned to get a good look as footsteps raced down the stairs. In the dark it was difficult to see Kyle's date properly, but in the light he was absolutely gorgeous. He had slightly tanned skin, dark brown hair, and sharp features. He was probably about my height and toned. He was struggling to get on his sweater as he fumbled for the door. He was in a panic and didn't bother to take in his surroundings before he threw open the door.
"Nice to meet you!" I shouted as he pulled the door shut behind him on the way out. "He seems nice," I turned to say to Stan who hummed lightly and slowly nodded.
Slower, softer footsteps moved next overhead. Stan and I leaned once again as Kyle made his way down the stairs. He stopped at the bottom and we both grinned wildly at him. His hair was a mess and he wore shorts with a baggy shirt. He looked like a hot mess with red marks on his neck and dark circles under his tired looking eyes. He glared, genuinely glared at us, as we smiled at him.
"If either one of you says a thing, I will rip out your tongues and feed them to you. Do you understand me?" he threatened and the seriousness in his tone was quite terrifying.
We nodded but didn't say anything. Kyle shuffled into the kitchen and I turned my head to look at Stan. He gave me a curious look as I wiggled my eyebrows at him and telepathically told him, "watch this". Kyle returned to sit across the table from me with a coffee cradled in his hands. Silence. But not for long.
"So, Kyle," I spoke up with feigned interest. Kyle looked up at me through his eyelashes, the warning look in his eyes. No matter how terrified I was of that look, I had to ignore it. I couldn't help it, I was a fucking glutton for punishment. Stan lifted his mug back to his lips, his eyes were focused intensely on me, waiting for whatever was about to come out of my mouth next. "Stan and I were thinking about participating in the rodeo and were wondering if you could give us some tips on how to ride."
Stan choked into his mug. The loud sputtering noises that came from him would have been worrisome if he weren't laughing hysterically in the process while trying to catch his breath. I tried to pinch back the smile that formed on my face but I couldn't help it as Kyle stared at me. His eyes burned hot with rage. Fucking worth it.
"I hate you so goddamn much," he growled and I shrugged my shoulders up to my ears.
"What else is new?"
~/~~~~~~~~~~~~\~
"What do you want?" Stan asked from across the table.
"I have no freaking clue. This menu is complete gibberish to me," Kyle replied next to him.
Stan set down his menu with a long, frustrated sigh. "Kenny, do you have any idea?" He asked me.
I looked at him over the top of my menu and grinned. "I have no goddamn clue," I answered.
"Why did we decide to come here? It's so sketchy," Stan explained and shifted in his seat, bumping into Kyle who was still trying to decipher the menu of broken English.
"It's something different," Kyle answered as he put his hand on Stan's shoulder to shove him away when he was spending too long leaning against him. "We need something different once in a while."
The something different was a Vietnamese restaurant a few blocks from the apartment near Cosmic Books, Kyle's work. Stan and I had stopped by near the end of his shift to bug him and grab a coffee from the barista stand. The cute blonde barista wasn't working, but a cuter brunet was. He was small and chipper, like a cross breed of the blonde barista and Kyle. I shamelessly flirted with him until his cheeks were redder than a tomato and he was fumbling with the take away cups with noticeable nervousness.
"You are literally the worst," Stan muttered into his cup as we turned away from the stand. "You'll hit on anything with two legs and a heartbeat."
"Awe, is someone jealous?" I teased as I jabbed my finger into Stan's side. He struggled to keep himself from coughing up his drink. "It's okay, Stan, no one will ever replace you. You will always have a special place in my heart as the one who I'll never have but always be connected to," I said in a jokingly seductive voice as I dragged my finger along his cheek slowly.
"Are you done?" Stan snapped and smacked my hand away.
I laughed and took a small sip of my drink. When Kyle was done his shift, we started down the street but was distracted by the sketchy looking Vietnamese restaurant. Kyle wanted to go inside. Stan protested against it. Take a wild guess as to who won that argument.
"And think about it," Kyle continued to say, finally looking up from his menu to smile at Stan. "This is how you know it's truly authentic Vietnamese cooking. Give it a chance, Stan."
"I'd give it a chance if I knew what the hell it was," Stan muttered, his cheek resting on his palm with his elbow on the table.
"Have you decided what you like to order?" The waitress asked as she approached the table. She had a slight accent I wasn't familiar with and dark, narrow eyes. She looked as if she was still in her teens, maybe seventeen or eighteen.
Stan and Kyle both looked up at me. I rolled my eyes and cleared my throat as I set the menu down. "We have absolutely no idea what we want, so maybe you could help us out? I'm thinking a soup, chicken, something spicy, and lots of noodles," I explained.
The girl smiled as she nodded enthusiastically. She bowed her head and quickly turned to shuffle towards the kitchen. "How the hell do you do that?" Kyle asked with a shake of his head.
"It's called having social skills, something you lack with anyone outside Stan and I," I explained with a grin that made Kyle flip me off from across the table.
Our waiting consisted of us folding our napkins into animals and throwing whatever we could find at each other. When we used up all of our napkins, we stole more from the nearby table which earned dark glares and soft murmurs from surrounding tables who were definitely not impressed by our shenanigans. Stan and I sat ready with our hands placed flat on the table, a stolen napkin in front of each of us.
"Ready?" Kyle asked. We had looked over the step by step guide a few times and were ready to race. We both nodded and Kyle grinned. "Go!" He shouted.
Stan and I both moved simultaneously. We each grabbed our napkins and started to fold as quickly as possible. We were earning more odd looks from the people seated at nearby tables as we grew louder. We were laughing and egging each other on with insults and unrealistic mocking of each other. Our rowdy behaviour was gaining lots of attention, and not in a good way, but that wasn't anything new for us.
"Done!" I shouted as I threw my hands up.
Kyle and Stan both looked up and laughed. "What the hell is that?" Kyle asked between heavy spouts of laughter.
"It's a swan," I answered with a proud grin.
"It does not look like a swan," Kyle explained as he shook his head.
"It kind of looks like a dick when you tilt your head," Stan explained as he did exactly that.
Kyle mimicked his friend and nodded. "Yep, it definitely looks like a dick," he agreed.
"You guys are both dicks," I said and flicked the napkin to send it flying across the table at Stan.
The doors to the kitchen swung open and the waitress approached carrying three bowls on a large tray. She set a bowl in front of each of us, bowed again, and disappeared in the kitchen. "What is it?" Kyle asked as he picked up his spoon to gently stir his soup.
"It's food, that's all you need to know," I said and shoved the first spoon full of soup into my mouth. I had no idea what it was or what was in it, but it tasted good.
"We're being watched," Stan suddenly said while looking over my shoulder as he pointed behind me with his spoon.
I turned. My spoon in my mouth pressed to my tongue as I looked over my shoulder to the table of girls in the corner. They were all staring at us as they whispered quietly to each and giggled on occasion. I continued to hold the spoon in my mouth as I grinned and winked noticeably at them. They all reacted just how I expected with high-pitched giggles and shyly looking away.
"You are fucking shameless," Kyle said in a low voice as he shook his head.
"Says the one who had a one night stand about a week ago," I turned to say to him with a crooked grin.
Kyle stopped with his spoon almost lifted to his mouth to look up at me through his eyelashes. After my comment at the table the morning after his "tutoring session", Kyle proceeded to make my life a living hell for three days straight. I deserved it, but it was still worth it. When the torment was over, Kyle finally told us what happened.
"A group of us went out for drinks, I drank a lot and so did he," Kyle explained while sitting cross legged on the couch next to me. "Carla's currently tutoring him. I had never met him before that day."
Stan and I both looked at each other to say, "Numbskull," in unison. Kyle frowned.
"Shut up, Kenny," Kyle snapped as he continued to eat his soup.
I chuckled and we continued to eat our dinner being our usual loud, obnoxious selves. I flicked the folded piece of paper that was wrapped around my utensils and it landed perfectly in the middle of Stan's plate. I smacked the table and laughed as he looked up at me with a stern expression. He rolled his eyes and suddenly shifted to look up over my shoulder. I didn't turn my head before the expensively manicured hand ran along my arm to press the folded napkin into my palm. I looked up at the girl with a pixie haircut as she smiled down at me. She was part of the table of gawking girls who passed by her on their way out of the restaurant so she could catch up to them. When they were out of view I unfolded the napkin and turned it to show Kyle and Stan who were both wide eyed with shock.
"You didn't even say anything to her and she just gives you her number?" Kyle asked with irritation in his voice.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I mean, can you blame her?" I asked with a toothy grin and tossed the napkin aside.
"You're not gonna call her?" Stan asked, his eyebrows knitted together in curiosity.
I shrugged my shoulders as I leaned back into the stiff cushions of the seat. "Too busy," I answered.
Kyle rolled his eyes noticeably. "Come on, Kenny. You haven't gone out with anyone since before graduation. It might do you some good to go out with her. Take her to a restaurant or a movie. See if she's someone you wouldn't mind taking out on a second date."
I scoffed and rolled my head to crack my neck. "I doubt she's a second date kind of girl," I explained with a crooked grin.
"How would you know? You've had a two second interaction with her that involved smiling and not saying a word to each other," Kyle explained. "You need a distraction."
"Or a release, whichever comes first," Stan said quietly with a small smile.
I lifted my hand to point at Stan while keeping my attention on Kyle. "He gets it," I said and Stan tapped the tip of his nose with the end of his spoon.
"No! Come on, that's not the point. You need to find someone to date, not to screw and leave," Kyle explained, his annoyance coming through his tone. "Kenny, you have to get over it and the only way to do that is by moving on with someone."
Tension filled the space between us. Kyle was at his breaking point and I could feel it. He knew me better than anyone when it came to my track record with dating. He was there for everything from the okay to the absolute worst. I let out a small sigh and reached over to grab the napkin to fold it and shove it into my pocket.
"Alright Kyle, I will try," I said with a soft smile that made Kyle sigh loudly in relief.
For the record, I did try. I called the number to which a very chipper voice answered and told me to meet them at a bar deep downtown. When I showed up I immediately spotted the girl sitting at the bar in a short, ruffled skirt and patterned shirt. She had a drink set in front of her and she smiled when she saw me enter. She wasn't bad to look at. She had an hourglass figure and a thin face, but there was something off. Something didn't feel right to me, but I had to try.
"I thought for a moment there that you wouldn't call," she explained as she ran her finger along the rim of her glass.
I took the bar stool next to my mystery date and ordered a drink from the bartender. "Well, that would have been silly of me, wouldn't it?" I replied with a quirky smile.
She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and lifted her glass to take a drink. "So, tell me about yourself, Ken," she said, keeping her voice low with some mystery to the tone.
I groaned internally. I was already put off by this girl. I specifically said Kenny on the phone, she was trying too hard at something different. I ignored the obvious attempt at being a mysterious flirt, especially with how bad she was at it. I had to try. I promised.
"There isn't much to tell," I replied. "Thanks," I said to the bartender as he slid my drink towards me. "Pretty normal guy with a pretty normal life."
I lifted my drink to take a sip. The girl scoffed loudly. "That's lame. Come on, I'm sure there's something," she explained with a small smile that made me scoff.
"I am Mysterion, the vigilante of the night who runs around beating up bad guys in a purple costume. I'm immortal. And I have the emotional stability of a newborn."
"I work at a garage and live with two other guys who I've been friends with since preschool. Does that count?" I asked and took a large drink of my beer.
The girl hummed as she gently rocked her head back and forth. "Not really. That's just kind of pathetic," she explained and sipped her drink.
"I'm already bored," I thought to myself.
The bar door opened and I saw the flash of yellow out of the corner of my eyes that made my chest tighten instinctively. I shifted my eyes without turning my head. The yellow hair belonged to a girl who entered with her tall, probably boyfriend by the way she was touching his arm. I didn't realize I was gritting my teeth until I felt a sharp pain in my tightened jaw.
"You're not very talkative," my so-called date explained.
"And you're not very interesting," I thought. "Talk is cheap," I replied in a flat tone before I took another large drink of my beer and shifted to face her, my hand on the back of her seat as I leaned in. "I find communication is more effective without having to speak. After all, body language makes up for most of our communication."
The smile that formed on her face was exactly what I was looking for. It didn't take much to get her right where I wanted her because I'm pretty sure she was waiting for me to get her there. Unfortunately, I broke my promise to Kyle. I tried, but not very hard. After finishing off our drinks we ended up back at her place. It was small and cluttered, but I wasn't going to stay long. Just long enough to release the tension in my shoulders and…other places.
"Seriously man?" Stan asked through the communicator in my ear. I sighed as I let my legs dangle over the edge of the rooftop I sat on. "I mean, you know me, I am all for having fun, but Kyle is going to kill you."
"It's not my fault. I tried," I replied and grinned, "for like two seconds."
"You're fucking terrible."
"That's definitely not what she said," I replied quickly and Stan groaned loudly on the other end of the transmitter.
"Are you talking to Kenny?" I heard Kyle ask from a distance on Stan's end after a door faintly shut. He had a tutoring session with one of his students and we, naturally, harassed the shit out of him about it. Needless to say, if murder was legal, Stan and I would have been dead a thousand times over.
"Say no," I snapped.
"Yep," Stan answered with a small pop of his lips at the end.
"I hate you so goddamn much," I growled angrily.
Stan chuckled. "Hang on, I just have to put down my stuff," Kyle's voice came through faintly.
"Do not tell him," I said and pushed myself up to my feet to stand with my toes hanging over the edge of the roof. I had the biggest urge to stretch my arms out at my sides and lean forward until I felt completely weightless.
"He's gonna find out, regardless if I tell him or not," Stan said, keeping his voice low. Kyle must have still been nearby. "It's just gonna be a hell of a lot funnier if I tell him."
"Stan, I swear to fucking—."
"So, how was your date?" Kyle asked, his voice clear from putting his own earpiece in.
I could practically hear Stan's smug grin on the other end. "It was—uh—good," I answered and closed my eyes. That wouldn't have been convincing enough to make a toddler believe me.
"Good? That's all you got? Good? Come on, there's got to be—," Kyle stopped himself and the silence hung heavy. Stan was trying hard to hold back his laughter. "Dammit, Kenny, you slept with her, didn't you?"
Stan snorted. "I think that's a record," he said with a small chuckle.
"Shut up, Stan," I snapped. My head quickly whipped around at the sound of someone screaming but it quickly turned into hysterical, drunk laughter from the girl who stumbled out of the nightclub with what I assumed was a group of her friends.
"Kenny, what happened to finding someone to date? Getting to know them on levels other than the physical one?" Kyle asked, his tone full of annoyance and disappointment.
"I did get to know her," I said and Kyle made a small noise. "I got to know real quick that she's a boring person and not at all someone who I want to see again. And she used to do gymnastics. She didn't tell me that, but I could definitely tell."
Stan snorted. "Fucking savage," he said before he chuckled.
It was Kyle's turn to snap at him. "You were told to shut up, Stan."
"Look, Kyle," I started to say as I moved back from the edge of the rooftop, "I know why you're so focused, but I'm not about to start dating random people just for the fun of it."
"Yeah, screwing them and leaving is a much better idea," Stan interrupted. "Much healthier way of coping."
"I swear, I will come over there, Stanley," Kyle said in a warning tone that made Stan laugh nervously.
"You unfortunately can't force love, Kyle. That's why one night stands were created," I said with a proud grin.
"You should know better than anyone, player," Stan took his chance to say in a low voice.
"That's it, you son of a—!" Kyle shouted but was cut off by a loud, girlish shriek from Stan followed by a lot of clattering and scuffling. I rolled my eyes with a long sigh.
"Help!" A panicked scream suddenly echoed from nearby and was not followed up with laughter. I quickly spun around and the voice screamed again, "Please, help me! Someone!"
"Break time's over," I said before I clicked off my earpiece and dashed across the rooftop.
The screams were coming from nearby in an alleyway between a boutique and office building. I started at a distance to charge full speed towards the hooded figure who had a man pinned against the wall of the boutique. I slammed full force into the hooded figure. They didn't stand a chance against my momentum. They slammed against the ground and I quickly stepped over them to strike my fist into their face. Instant knock out.
"Are you alright?" I asked as I turned to face the victim.
He leaned forward and nodded. I couldn't see his face in the dark and his body was shaking. I took a step forward, arm stretched out to touch his shoulder but stopped when I saw the dark object in his hand. A dark looming feeling behind me made my spine tingle. I quickly spun around and was met with two other figures. I sighed loudly and shook my head.
"Don't you guys get tired of this game?" I asked with an exasperated tone.
It wasn't anything new to be jumped by a bunch of idiots, it happened about once a week. What was new was the solid object that was pressed to the back of my head. I heard the soft click and felt a sharp chill run through my body. I had come face to face with knives, bats, and even a crowbar once or twice, but never a gun.
"Well, shit," I muttered quietly.
"Boss is gonna pay us good for bringing you to him," one of the guys in front of me said with a crooked grin.
I could feel the gun being pressed harder against the back of my head. One of the things I started to learn from my interactions was the difference between thugs and gangs. Thugs were just random morons who were out stealing or abusing people for their own personal enjoyment. Gangs were the real deal. They were out for a reason. One gang in particular I always found myself face to face with had no name but every member had a tattoo of spider webbing on their necks, just like the three guys surrounding me. The one who spoke looked strangely familiar. I think I had fought him a few times. What a small world.
"I doubt I'll be much fun for him, in all honesty," I replied. "I'm not feeling very welcoming today."
"Move or I'll put a bullet through your head," the gang member holding the gun to my head behind me growled.
"Well, that's a bit extreme, don't you think?" I asked and chuckled lightly when I was shoved forward roughly.
"We don't need you alive. If your ass is off the streets, that's all the boss cares about," the first member explained. "You've been a thorn in his side for months. He wants you gone for good."
"I don't know why. I'm a fucking treat," I replied jokingly with a wide smile.
"Can we just kill him already?" the gang member who had been staying quiet asked in a low growling voice.
I turned my head slightly. "You can try."
The gun fired next to my ear as I moved. The ringing was loud and painful, but I had to push through it. I took a step back to grab the arm of the gang member holding the gun and used all of my upper body strength to throw the man over me. His body slammed against the ground with a harsh thud and his arm snapped loudly as I twisted it painfully in a direction it wasn't meant to twist. With him out of the way I could easily take the gun from his hand and aimed it at the two other members. The weight felt strange in my hand. I had to tighten my grip around it to stop my hand from shaking. It didn't feel right.
"You're not gonna shoot us."
I grounded my teeth together. I knew with my finger on the trigger that he was right, and I couldn't hide it. "No, I'm not," I replied and took my finger away from the trigger, "but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna beat the shit out of you."
Using the weight of the gun gave me more momentum and power in my punches. The blows were hard and somewhat painful. When I was finished knocking them both unconscious on the ground, I stood with my shaking hand at my side. I could feel my knuckle bleeding underneath my glove. The small wounds stung from the sweat that formed on my skin. The weight of the gun in my hand seemed to grow suddenly and I had to drop it. It clattered against the ground and I could finally breathe properly.
I quickly spun my head around to look up. Slow clapping echoed off the walls of the buildings. Professor Chaos sat on the metal fire escape, his legs dangling over the edge as he leaned forward slightly gripping the bar underneath him.
"Chaos!" I shouted and watched as the grin slowly formed on his darkened face.
"You've been improving, Mysterion. I'm impressed," he explained and slowly began to move his legs to swing them like a child. "You've gone from a bumbling idiot to slightly better than average."
"What the hell do you want from me, Chaos?" I crossed my arms over my chest to ask.
He tilted his head back slightly as he rocked it back and forth. The light from the lamppost reached his face and it was the first time I could get a look at some of his features. A small nose and plump lips. Everything else was hidden behind his half mask and metal helmet.
"I'm not sure yet," he answered after taking a moment to think and tilted his head back forward to let the shadows take over his face again. "We'll have to see what happens," he said and tiny bolts of electricity danced around his fingers. My eyebrows furrowed together as my eyes shifted down to look at the tiny sparks. "You're a curious creature, Mysterion," Chaos said and snapped me from my shameless staring. "Not once have you asked about my abilities or seemed at all fazed by them. Most people would have ran, but not you," he explained and he had a point. I didn't even try to act surprised by it. For some reason it all just seemed right. "But then again, you've got one too, don't you?" My heart froze in my chest. How the fuck did he know? "I can feel the power radiating off you, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it is that you have. Whether you're afraid to use it, afraid to show me, or you haven't figured it out yourself, I can't figure it out."
"I don't—," I started to say but felt my voice waver in my throat a bit. I swallowed down the lump of nerves. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Professor Chaos sighed loudly. "Don't play dumb, Mysterion, you're not good at it," he said and spun around to throw his legs over the railing. "Don't worry, someday you'll have no choice. I'll find out your secret."
"Chaos," I snapped as he climbed the stairs of the fire escape.
"I was planning on having some fun tonight but I think we can wait for another night," he said with a small wave of his hand.
My hands tightened into fists and I flinched at the pain of my gloves rubbing against my wounds on my knuckles. "Chaos! Dammit! Come back here!" I screamed.
"Until next time, Mysterion. Good night," he said, ignoring my shouts to disappear over the building with a rustle of his cape caught behind him by the strong wind.
"Son of a bitch," I snapped. "Fucking psycho!"
"You're one to talk," the gang member with the broken arm groaned from the ground next to me.
"Oh, shut up," I snapped back and crossed my arms over my chest.
~/~~~~~~~~~~~~\~
My feet slapped against the pavement in quick, heavy thuds underneath me. The buildings and people blurred past me. I wasn't focused on anything except my destination and the burn in my legs. At first it was painful and made me want to scream, but I grew to enjoy the burn. It was like my adrenaline that coursed through my veins. I was addicted to the feeling of—well—feeling.
My hand touched the wall of the coffeehouse and Stan's hand was right there with me. We were both panting but my breaths were much heavier. I was getting used to the exercise, but Stan still had years of familiarity on me. It was fucking annoying.
"Not quite there, Kenny," Stan said and smacked my shoulder.
"I'm getting close," I replied between heavy breaths with my hands on my sides as I leaned back slightly.
"I'll believe that when you can say it without sounding like you're gonna keel over," Stan joked and stepped over to the door to swing it open.
It was our daily morning routine. Stan would jostle me awake, I'd groggily get changed, we'd race each other down the stairs and out the door to the coffeehouse, and then we'd sit and talk with our coffees and sometimes breakfast for an hour. We never felt bad about leaving Kyle behind because he was never awake before we got back. I wasn't a morning person, but he was the god damn devil in the mornings. Seriously, he would bite anyone's head off, no remorse. It was terrifying.
"What do you want?" Stan asked as he stood at the counter looking up at the menu.
"Same as usual," I answered.
Stan made a loud gagging sound and shook his head. "I don't know how you can stand it. It's like drinking dirt," he explained, his nose scrunched up in disgust.
"Blame Tweek, he's the one who started me on it. Plus, I don't have much of a sweet tooth. You know that," I replied.
"Next!" the barista behind the counter called out.
"Just order my damn coffee," I growled, my arms crossed over my chest as Stan stepped forward.
"What can I get you?" The barista asked.
"A large French vanilla latte and a large coffee. Black. With nothing in it. Not a single grain of sugar or drop of cream," Stan said, his voice flat with disdain. I rolled my eyes dramatically.
The barista laughed as he punched the order into his till. "A straight black coffee? That's a lot of bitterness to handle," he said with a small smile aimed towards me. A genuine smile. Thank fucking god.
"Well, I have to put up with his bitter ass so I've just adapted," I explained, gesturing towards Stan.
Stan forced out a small laugh. "Nah, actually, he can't consume too much sugar. He's already sweet enough so any more and he'll just wash away in the rain," he explained and I shot him a curious sideways glance.
The barista laughed. He seemed genuinely amused by Stan's joke but continued on with his job for a bit. Stan handed the payment over the till and turned his head to wink at me. "Your names?" The barista asked.
Stan pointed to his own chest. "Stan," he said and swung his arm to lightly smack my chest. "Kenny."
The barista's smile widened a bit. "Nice name," he said towards me.
"Funny you should say that," Stan said, his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts, "because Adrian is his favourite name."
I was confused for a moment before I looked at the name tag on the barista's apron that was engraved with the name ADRIAN. He blushed noticeably and I felt a tiny bit of pride inside me.
"Your drinks will be ready at the end," Adrian explained as he gestured towards the end of the counter.
I followed Stan with my arms crossed over my chest as he kept his hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts. We were quiet as we waited for our drinks and took a seat at a small bistro table by one of the large windows. I set my drink down on the table and couldn't help but grin at Stan as he took a small sip of his drink.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Did you just hit on him for me?" I asked teasingly.
Stan scowled. "What if I did? What's wrong with that?" He asked intensely.
I shook my head. "There's nothing wrong with it. I'm just a bit surprised. I didn't think you had that in you," I teased him.
"Look just because I'm not gay or—," he stopped and his eyebrows furrowed together in frustration.
I rolled my eyes. "Pansexual, Stan. Like a pan flute," I finished for him.
He nodded his head rapidly. "Right! Okay, I knew that! Just because I'm not that doesn't mean I don't know how to notice someone who is obviously attractive," he explained and I grinned. "Plus, we all know I'm the best one at flirting."
I leaned forward with my elbows on the table and my chin cradled in my palm. "If that's the case then how has Kyle been laid more than both of us combined in the last year?" I asked partly teasingly but I was actually curious. Kyle was a terrible flirter. He was an awkward, introverted mess, but he had game apparently.
"Pity?" Stan said after a moment of thinking. "Like how you take in a stray pet because you feel bad for it?"
I nodded rapidly. "That must be it."
Stan chuckled as he leaned forward slightly to wrap his hands around his cup. I could see the thoughts rattling around in his mind. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact he was about to get real with me. "Kyle's right. You need someone in your life to help you move on, Kenny," he said with such a real tone that I instantly felt my entire body sag with the weight of the stress. "You've been stuck in an emotional and romantic rut for so long, I think you forgot what it's like to have actual feelings for someone."
"I know what it's like to have feelings," I retaliated with furrowed eyebrows.
Stan exhaled sharply. "When was the last time you had a crush on someone? Even just a small one. Like, you see someone at the supermarket and they make your heart skip a beat or your throat go dry and you have troubles talking. When was the last time you experienced that?" He asked intensely.
I hummed lightly and then snapped my fingers. "Wait, is that the same feeling as what I feel when you step out of the bathroom after a shower with only a towel wrapped around you?" I joked.
Stan rolled his eyes. "Come on, Kenny, I'm being serious here."
"So am I. I would never joke about you in a towel, Stanley," I said with a teasing grin and winked. Stan reached over to grab the small menu and smacked me on the top of the head with it before I could react. "Ouch! Dammit Stan," I whined and rubbed my head.
"You are impossible," he mumbled and took a sip of his drink.
"Rude," I grumbled and Stan glared at me from over his cup. I stopped rubbing my head and let my hand slowly drop back onto the table. I gently tapped my finger against the table and frowned. "I know what you and Kyle are trying to tell me, Stan," I explained in a quiet voice. I had to look away from Stan's intense eyes. I opted to staring down at my hands covered in bandages over my small wounds created from my fights as well as work. I couldn't tell you how exactly I got each of them, there were so many. "I know you guys are just trying to help but…I can't just move on."
"Kenny—," Stan tried to say but I didn't let him continue.
"It's not that simple," I said and the bell above the coffeehouse door rang loudly to echo through the room. I looked up. "I feel like—," I stopped when I saw the bright morning light hit the yellow hair of the customer standing at the counter. My breath hitched in my throat and I had to swallow the lump that caught there.
I'm being haunted by ghosts. I'm fucking cursed.
