Thoughts of an Assassin
Long headed straight for his bedroom and let himself drop into his bed, weary with more than just physical exhaustion. He cuddled up on his pillow and tried to drive all thought from his head, failing in the effort. Fox's suggestions about him and Van scared him more than he wanted to admit. Before he had been certain that as long as he obeyed Van's orders he would have nothing to fear. But what if those orders included...? He couldn't even finish the sentence in his own mind, he burrowed his head under the pillow trying to make the thoughts go away. He hated to admit how afraid of Van he really was, and that aside from his rank, he was really no different than any of the others: a worthless pawn to be used at Tylon's every whim.
I don't need to be thinking about this, he told himself, getting up from the bed. I need something to calm me down... maybe a nice warm shower, and then a little drink at the bar. Yes, that will make me feel better. He started by taking off his wrist and ankle weights, thankfull that he wouldn't be needing them that day. Then he started undressing, consoling himself with the thought of a warm shower. He also figured that Alica probably knew what she was talking about. After all she knew Van better than anyone else, right? And if Van was repulsed by Fox then there was reason enough to think that he wasn't attracted to men. Although, it didn't prove that he wasn't either. He didn't really seem to be attracted to anyone for that matter, except maybe...
"Alica." the mere mention of her name made him recall what had happened earlier that evening. He hadn't really though about it since then, but what was Van's reason for sitting so close to her? Could it have been simply friendship or brotherly love the way he wrapped his arm around her back? Long made a face, revolted by the thought. Really I don't know which is worse, me and Van or Van and Alica. He decided that it could have been a platonic action, but at the same time he still felt a strange sort of suspicion eating away at him inside. Afterall Van seldom treated anyone with reguard or respect, if she was nothing more than a sister to him, wouldn't he spurn or ignore her just as he did everyone else? Even if he doesn't want her for that, he wants her for something. #318 decided.
"Enough of this!" he declared, shaking his head clear. "This day has already included much more talk about gay sex and incest than I would like to have heard in my lifetime! I wish there were some way I could completely avoid Hans!"
Meanwhile Alica Tylon and Dr. Stephen Goldberg sat facing each other at one end of a long table in the middle of the cafeteria eating their lunches. It was fairly deserted, but that was usual, most of Tylon's employees ate elsewhere. No one really knew why, perhaps because the cafeteria was located near the experimentaion lab, and no one wanted any part of that. There were also rumors about the food of course, as with all cafeterias. Stephen completely dismissed the rumors as being childish superstitions. The truth was that the food was usually very good, although it didn't always look terribly appetizing.
"I really don't know what's gotten into him lately, I do hope he hasn't offended you, Stephen." Alica apologized. "Actually it's in his nature to be somewhat short with people, but lately he's just been getting worse. I think Fox is really starting to get on his nerves, not to mention that cold."
"Well, I certainly don't blame him for being a bit edgy." Dr. Goldberg admitted. "I do think he ought to try and control his anger a little more though. Afterall you can't go around getting mad at everyone for what one person has done to you, or just because you've got a miserable cold." Alica nodded her agreement and then took another bite of her burger. In a way she was almost glad he wasn't there, especially if he was going to be in his grouchy mood again. He wasn't any fun then. "What is with this 'Fox' character anyway? And why would anyone chose to call themselves a name like that?"
"Beats me." she shrugged. "He's a transvestite, he may as well call himself 'the lovely bishie' for all I care, it's a feminine thing I guess."
"I see..." he trailed off, not wishing to continue that discussion. "So what is with him and that other man?"
"Long? Well, Fox finds him attractive, and he doesn't return the sentiment at all... in fact he's getting pretty homophobic over it I think."
"But why be attracted to someone who finds you repulsive?"
"I have no idea. Fox has always been weird that way. Afterall he was already with Busuzima, who certainly didn't show him any respect at all. And he's liked my brother Van for a long time, hell, who doesn't find his power attractive? Well, you know I sure don't, but... anyway... Who knows why he's going after Long? Maybe he enjoys going after people who despise him, maybe he's desperate, or maybe he's just lonely after dumping Busuzima. I really could care less."
"Me too." a voice from behind her agreed. She turned her head to see Long walking towards her, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup on it. She noticed that his hair was down, and slightly damp, but besides that he looked as he usually did. He sat down next to her at the table and unfolded a napkin, setting it on his lap. Then he started stirring his soup, waiting for it to cool down a bit.
"I thought you weren't coming?" Alica complained. "And what's with the hair?"
"I changed my mind, and I just got out of the shower."
"There's a such thing called a blow drier." she reminded.
"Blow drying really isn't good for your hair, you know?"
"Just don't let Fox catch you with your hair down like that..."
"I don't mean to." he replied, spooning some of the soup into his mouth. There was an akward moment of silence as Stephen and Alica watched him eating the soup. They both wondered why he was there. Neither were surprised that he simply invited himself to their table, but they were still a bit offended. Who does he think he is to come waltzing in here like that? Alica wondered. Well, he is the top assassin, and he was invited to lunch with us, but still... He finished the spoonful of soup, taking his time to swallow it. Then he had to sneeze and blow his nose again. "Uh... I realize that my behavior earlier might have a bit rude." he apologized.
"But you didn't come here just to apologize to us, did you? What do you want?"
"Very perceptive, Alica." he admitted, snickering. "Well... I should have expected that you would catch on. I want something that I can't get for myself out here."
"And what prey tell is that?"
"Just a little drink, but if I've heard correctly you have to be of a certain age and have some kind of identification card in order to get it. I have neither."
"Yes, 21 is the age requirement, you're not 21 yet?"
"I'm one year shy I'm afraid."
"Well, I'm obviously not over 21 myself, so... Oh! So you want Stephen to buy some alcohol for you?"
"In a nuttshell, yes. What do you think, Stephen?"
"I think it's not usually a good idea to drink while you've got a cold." he replied.
"Aw, but I need something to numb the pain." #318 begged.
"He, heh... Nice try, but it only works that way if you pour it on an open wound, and not if you drink it. Unless you drink too much, which I wouldn't suggest either."
"Come on Steve. Just a six pack of beer or maybe a little bottle of wine. I've got the money and you've got the experience. I'll even buy you a bottle of your favorite poison if you like, what do you say?"
"I say: don't call me Steve. I've already told you I prefer Stephen, that's not so hard to say, is it? Really I'm not insisting you call me Dr. Goldberg or anything, the least you could do in the way of respect for your elder is call me Stephen."
"Alright then, Stephen. How about it? I think a little drink would do us all some good. Sit back, relax, lossen up for awhile... forget for a moment the stresses of working for a monsterous company like Tylon! So, why don't the three of us buy a little alcohol then then go kick back in my dorm for a bit?"
"I'm not really a big drinker myself." Alica objected.
"Actually that sounds appealing to me." Stephen agreed. "However I've got to go back to work soon, maybe after I'm done... I could probably use a break by then."
"Very well." Long agreed. "And you don't have to join us, Alica. No one's going to force you to. It can just be the two of us men, right Stephen?
"I think all that's sneezing's starting to kill off your brain cells if you think I'm gonna let you two drink alone." she replied. "Afterall there's got to be one sober person in the group, right?"
"I won't get too drunk." Dr. Goldberg assured her. "But a little buzz would be nice."
"I'm not planning on getting wasted either." Singh Long added. "Just a little drink or two."
"Anyway, I really ought to be going now." Stephen said, checking his watch. "Back to work as usual... If you're going to be in your dorm then I'll just come knock on your door when you're ready, Long."
"Don't forget me either." Alica reminded. The doctor nodded and rose from the table, then he dumped the remainder of his lunch into the nearest trash can and left the cafeteria.
"Sounds like it's going to be fun, don't you think?" Long asked.
"I think you're a moocher. Really, that performance was terrible."
"Perhaps so, but I got what I wanted didn't I? At least I won't have to go to all the trouble of finding someone to make me a fake ID, although if I'm going to stay here very long then I probably should."
"You don't care about anyone but yourself." she complained.
"Who else should I care about, hm? You? Well I do care about you, but you already knew that. So don't ask silly questions that you already know the answers to."
"You're an egotistical maniac."
"That's me."
"And you're not at all ashamed?"
"Why should I be? Caring for few people besides myself is the only thing that keeps me alive and sane in this horrible line of work." He stirred his soup a bit and sipped another spoonfull or two while Alica contemplated the matter.
"I guess you're right." she agreed.
"If I cared about all people like you do, then I would also end up saving other people's lives and risking my own. Not to mention the lives of those whom I protect. I cannot afford to care about people." he explained.
"And you think I should be that same way? You think I shouldn't risk my own neck to save the people I'm sent to kill?" she asked. He ignored her in favor of sipping up some more soup, hoping that ahe would realize that the answer was obvious. "You do, don't you? But I don't have anyone else to protect or worry about like you do. The only reason I'm killing in the first place is to preserve my own worthless life. I need to take the risk and save people if I can. Otherwise I'll go insane."
"Alica, you're going to become insane sooner or later anyway in this line of work, everyone does. Just look at Fox, Bakuryu, and Greg if you want an example."
"Oh? And won't you also go insane eventually as well? Or do you think you are the one exception?"
"I have a plan." #318 revealed. "I'm going to get out of this one day, I'll just leave it all behind me."
"How are you going to do that? Van will kill your family if you leave."
"Not if he can't find them."
"What do you mean?"
"Much of my income as an assassin is saved up in a bank account. Once I have enough money to support my mother and sister for the rest of their lives I will take them and go into hiding. No one can stop me if I act quickly enough, not even Van, and I know of places where we will never be found. They can kill my father while I'm gone if they like, I really don't care. Of course, my mother and sister might not like it, but there's no way I'm saving his @$$. Not after what he put me through."
"Where can you hide from Van, Long? We have branches all over the world. Tylon is everywhere, and he will find you."
"There are places." was his aloof reply. "But I'm not telling you. Not because I don't trust you, you understand? But because you will be certinaly be questioned after I'm gone. You are a poor liar, Alica Tylon."
"I'm going to have to work on that." she muttered.
"Oh, look! You've got your hair down!" cried a high-pitched femine voice that could only belong to Fox.
"Oh, no." Long groaned, jumping from his seat.
"Going to run again?" Alica assumed.
"I'm in no mood to put up with him today." he explained, starting off towards the door.
"Where are you going my lovely little bishie?" Fox called, running towards them with a lunch tray balanced in his hands. Long dashed out of the room and towards the stairs. Fox ran after him a bit, but when he got to Alica's table he stopped. "Aw... how come all the pretty ones always get away?"
"If I were you I'd leave him alone, Hans." Alica advised. To her surprise Fox sighed and sat down across from her at the table.
"I think I'd rather finish my lunch then chase him anyway." the transvestite agreed, taking a bite out of his sandwitch.
"Why are you after him in the first place? Can't you see that he doesn't like you?"
"But I'm so lonely. Ever since Busu cheated on me, I feel so worthless!"
"That doesn't mean that you've gotta go chasing down people who don't want you."
"But no one does want me." Hans sniffled. Alica considered taking her lunch somewhere else in order to avoid him, but then she realized that she actually pitied him a bit. Anyway it would be rude for her to simply leave, so she resumed eating her lunch. They ate in silence for a few minutes, each a bit uncomfortable and wary of the other's presence, both secretly wondering why the other was still there. Fox glanced up at her with a questioning look in his eyes once or twice, but rather than speak to him she ignored the look. Finally she finished her meal and got up to leave. "Alica..."
"Yes?"
"Could you just... put in a good word for me, with Long?"
"I'm sorry Hans, but he's never going to be interested in you. You should just accept that."
"But I like him!"
"Fox, seriously, you ought to try and be more realistic. Find someone who appreciates you for who you are (if such a person exists). Quit running after people who despise you." That said she turned and left, hoping that he would consider her words. First I scold Long a bit and now give some advice to Hans... What am I, the company's counselor? she wondered. At least Stephen seems to be mature enough not to need it... She thought about dropping by his dorm for a moment, but then realized that he would be working. Guess I'd better leave him alone.
Long ran all the way up to him room once more, dashing through his door and locking it behind him. Then he leaned against the back of the door, waiting for the dreaded sound of pursuit. He listened carefully for any sounds outside his door, trying to control his breathing in order to hear. After a few minutes his breathing calmed down, but still he heard nothing. He stood there a bit longer, wondering what could possibly keep his stalker, and then realized that Hans must have given up this time.
"What a relief." he muttered to himself. He wondered what could have kept Hans from following him, almost daring to hope that the feminine man was losing interest in him. Probably not, he thought. As much as I might hope for it, it is hardly probable. He sighed and walked into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. As he poured the water into his kettle and set it on the stove he wondered what he was going to do with the rest of the day. Usually he used most of his time planning his assignments, playing them out in head head before time. He would go over them meticulously, assuring himself that once he took action everything would go well. But today there was no assignment, which gave him nothing to do but think.
He sat down on the couch for a moment while waiting for the water to boil. He thought about turning on the TV, but discarded the idea almost immediately. Much of what was on would be news about last night's killing, and anything else usually failed to hold his interest. He found most TV shows boring and dull, the news was all he watched anymore. He could remember a time when he was younger and enjoyed watching a few shows, but his interest in them had only been a fleeting thing. All the action, horros, fantasy, romance and game shows were absolutely unnecessary in his eyes. Reality shows had caught his interest once, but after a short while their novelty wore off. He watched a comedy show now and then, but found that he was no longer in possession of even the slightest sense of humor, besides the humor he found at the torment of his targets.
The kettle whistled, interrupting his thoughts. He quickly got up and poured himself a cup, steeping his tea for a minute and stirring in a tiny bit of sugar. All of life is such a futile attempt at happiness, he thought. There is nothing to believe in anymore, and nothing to hold on to, except... the people you love. He took a comforting sip of his tea, savoring it's warmth and bitter-sweet taste as he sat down in his recliner. The thought of being able to save his family used to comfort him as well, but lately it had little effect against his guilt at his own actions. I have already been doing this far too long, he complained. But there was no one to complain to except himself.
He felt as though he were sinking into a bottomless black pit, falling endlessly, unable to free himself from the darkness that consumed him. He could almost feel the emotional pain, as though it were a physical ache within his heart. A bit more of him died each time he took the life of another. The pain was becoming too much to bear, and sometimes he wondered if it would ever end. He remembered all too well how it had started, his first kill quickly followed by the second, third and fourth. And so began an endless succession of deaths caused by him. The truth was that he had no idea exactly how many people he had killed, he never counted them of course. The one thing knew was that had been thousands, the end of it still nowhere in sight.
He sighed and set his tea cup down on the coffe table. The expression on his face was one of solemn hatered for his predicament. His eyes were as empty and soulless as if they were made of glass, and cold as ice, betraying no part of his inner torment. His mouth an emotionless line across his face, denying it's self of the slightest expression of feeling. It was the countenace of a man who had worn so many different grimaces of pain that he had exhausted his ability to do so. He coud no more wear a face lined with pain than he could smile with happiness. Even his laughter, which had once been full of life and joy, was now reduced to nothing more than a deep, empty outlet for air.
I need help. he admitted, grabbing his cup of tea and taking another sip. He reminded himself that there was no way he could leave, not now. Now untill he could assure himself that his family would be safe. But how much more of his lifestyle could he stand? How much more self-induces torture would he have to inflict before it was finally time to put an end to it all? If I don't get out of this soon I am going to go insane, he anticipated. But I must wait. For now all I need is something to calm myself down, something other than a simple cup of tea. He momentarilly considered going back to the cigarettes, but quickly disguarded the idea. Such filthy things...
Oddly enough it was his work that usually calmed him down. He hardly understood why himself. Perhaps it was the fact that planning out his killings occupied his thoughts, keeping him from remembering the pain. But the reason that he hated to admit to most of all, was that taking his anger out on his targets was also becoming a source of comfort to him. Irionic, he thought. That the very cause of my pain, is also the easiest way for me to release it. But it did feel good to hit something, to strike out in anger, even if it couldn't be at the people responsible for it. He found that he desired it, so much that he wished that Van had given him an assignment that day. Anything to take out his anger and keep him from thinking about who he was.
He abruptly decided that sitting around in his dorm wasn't going to accomplish anything. He finished his tea and took the cup back to the kitchen, rinsing it out and setting it in the sink. Then he headed straight for the door, unlocked it, walked through it and locked it again on his way out. He walked down the empty hallway, headed for the elevator. He was going out. He didn't know where he was going, his destination was irrelevant. He had to do something, go somewhere, anywhere to get away from himself. He paused for a moment in front of Alica's door, thinking that maybe she could help. Then he shrugged the idea off. Alica has enough problems of her own, she doesn't need to share in mine.
So he walked on to the elevator, took it down to the parking lot, and jumped into his car, starting the ignition at once and starting off. He drove aimlessly around the city streets for several minutes, only becoming nervous and apprehensive. He felt almost as if eyes were watching him, but whenever he looked there was nothing. Then he remembered the news program from earlier that day, people would be looking for him. Ugh, what am I doing? he thought. This was a very bad idea. He immediately turned around and drove straight back towards Tylon, parking his car in it's usual spot. He stood next to it for a moment, refusing to return to his dorm, but unable to leave the building.
Then he reluctantly started back towards the elevator, wondering what he was going to do. He wanted to get out, but knew that it would be dangerous to do so. Do the city police know anything about my car? he wondered. They could have his license plate number for all he knew, and they certainly had his physical description. So what could he do? He certainly couldn't go walked about on the street during the day, that would be even stupider than driving around in his car. What if I wore some kind of disguise? he wondered. He hated to think of changing his appearance in any way, but he was desperate to leave. In any case they will certainly recognise me in this, he reminded himself, looking down at his uniform.
After re-entering his dorm he went straight to his bedroom and took off all but his underclothes, then started searching through his drawers. There wasn't really much there to begin with, and he reminded himself that he really ought to buy some more clothes soon, but then again he would be recognized. Goddamnit. he griped. I just had to let that woman see me, didn't I? Curse the bitch! Oh well, it is my own fault... I even stayed to chat with her, really brilliant aren't I? After completeing a search of his drawers he found that he had brought nothing other than the formal Chinese clothing he usually wore, which would make him a dead giveaway on the streets. You are hopeless Long, he scolded himself. Completely hopeless. So he did the only thing he could do under the circumstances, he curled up on his bed and fell asleep.
I don't need to be thinking about this, he told himself, getting up from the bed. I need something to calm me down... maybe a nice warm shower, and then a little drink at the bar. Yes, that will make me feel better. He started by taking off his wrist and ankle weights, thankfull that he wouldn't be needing them that day. Then he started undressing, consoling himself with the thought of a warm shower. He also figured that Alica probably knew what she was talking about. After all she knew Van better than anyone else, right? And if Van was repulsed by Fox then there was reason enough to think that he wasn't attracted to men. Although, it didn't prove that he wasn't either. He didn't really seem to be attracted to anyone for that matter, except maybe...
"Alica." the mere mention of her name made him recall what had happened earlier that evening. He hadn't really though about it since then, but what was Van's reason for sitting so close to her? Could it have been simply friendship or brotherly love the way he wrapped his arm around her back? Long made a face, revolted by the thought. Really I don't know which is worse, me and Van or Van and Alica. He decided that it could have been a platonic action, but at the same time he still felt a strange sort of suspicion eating away at him inside. Afterall Van seldom treated anyone with reguard or respect, if she was nothing more than a sister to him, wouldn't he spurn or ignore her just as he did everyone else? Even if he doesn't want her for that, he wants her for something. #318 decided.
"Enough of this!" he declared, shaking his head clear. "This day has already included much more talk about gay sex and incest than I would like to have heard in my lifetime! I wish there were some way I could completely avoid Hans!"
Meanwhile Alica Tylon and Dr. Stephen Goldberg sat facing each other at one end of a long table in the middle of the cafeteria eating their lunches. It was fairly deserted, but that was usual, most of Tylon's employees ate elsewhere. No one really knew why, perhaps because the cafeteria was located near the experimentaion lab, and no one wanted any part of that. There were also rumors about the food of course, as with all cafeterias. Stephen completely dismissed the rumors as being childish superstitions. The truth was that the food was usually very good, although it didn't always look terribly appetizing.
"I really don't know what's gotten into him lately, I do hope he hasn't offended you, Stephen." Alica apologized. "Actually it's in his nature to be somewhat short with people, but lately he's just been getting worse. I think Fox is really starting to get on his nerves, not to mention that cold."
"Well, I certainly don't blame him for being a bit edgy." Dr. Goldberg admitted. "I do think he ought to try and control his anger a little more though. Afterall you can't go around getting mad at everyone for what one person has done to you, or just because you've got a miserable cold." Alica nodded her agreement and then took another bite of her burger. In a way she was almost glad he wasn't there, especially if he was going to be in his grouchy mood again. He wasn't any fun then. "What is with this 'Fox' character anyway? And why would anyone chose to call themselves a name like that?"
"Beats me." she shrugged. "He's a transvestite, he may as well call himself 'the lovely bishie' for all I care, it's a feminine thing I guess."
"I see..." he trailed off, not wishing to continue that discussion. "So what is with him and that other man?"
"Long? Well, Fox finds him attractive, and he doesn't return the sentiment at all... in fact he's getting pretty homophobic over it I think."
"But why be attracted to someone who finds you repulsive?"
"I have no idea. Fox has always been weird that way. Afterall he was already with Busuzima, who certainly didn't show him any respect at all. And he's liked my brother Van for a long time, hell, who doesn't find his power attractive? Well, you know I sure don't, but... anyway... Who knows why he's going after Long? Maybe he enjoys going after people who despise him, maybe he's desperate, or maybe he's just lonely after dumping Busuzima. I really could care less."
"Me too." a voice from behind her agreed. She turned her head to see Long walking towards her, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup on it. She noticed that his hair was down, and slightly damp, but besides that he looked as he usually did. He sat down next to her at the table and unfolded a napkin, setting it on his lap. Then he started stirring his soup, waiting for it to cool down a bit.
"I thought you weren't coming?" Alica complained. "And what's with the hair?"
"I changed my mind, and I just got out of the shower."
"There's a such thing called a blow drier." she reminded.
"Blow drying really isn't good for your hair, you know?"
"Just don't let Fox catch you with your hair down like that..."
"I don't mean to." he replied, spooning some of the soup into his mouth. There was an akward moment of silence as Stephen and Alica watched him eating the soup. They both wondered why he was there. Neither were surprised that he simply invited himself to their table, but they were still a bit offended. Who does he think he is to come waltzing in here like that? Alica wondered. Well, he is the top assassin, and he was invited to lunch with us, but still... He finished the spoonful of soup, taking his time to swallow it. Then he had to sneeze and blow his nose again. "Uh... I realize that my behavior earlier might have a bit rude." he apologized.
"But you didn't come here just to apologize to us, did you? What do you want?"
"Very perceptive, Alica." he admitted, snickering. "Well... I should have expected that you would catch on. I want something that I can't get for myself out here."
"And what prey tell is that?"
"Just a little drink, but if I've heard correctly you have to be of a certain age and have some kind of identification card in order to get it. I have neither."
"Yes, 21 is the age requirement, you're not 21 yet?"
"I'm one year shy I'm afraid."
"Well, I'm obviously not over 21 myself, so... Oh! So you want Stephen to buy some alcohol for you?"
"In a nuttshell, yes. What do you think, Stephen?"
"I think it's not usually a good idea to drink while you've got a cold." he replied.
"Aw, but I need something to numb the pain." #318 begged.
"He, heh... Nice try, but it only works that way if you pour it on an open wound, and not if you drink it. Unless you drink too much, which I wouldn't suggest either."
"Come on Steve. Just a six pack of beer or maybe a little bottle of wine. I've got the money and you've got the experience. I'll even buy you a bottle of your favorite poison if you like, what do you say?"
"I say: don't call me Steve. I've already told you I prefer Stephen, that's not so hard to say, is it? Really I'm not insisting you call me Dr. Goldberg or anything, the least you could do in the way of respect for your elder is call me Stephen."
"Alright then, Stephen. How about it? I think a little drink would do us all some good. Sit back, relax, lossen up for awhile... forget for a moment the stresses of working for a monsterous company like Tylon! So, why don't the three of us buy a little alcohol then then go kick back in my dorm for a bit?"
"I'm not really a big drinker myself." Alica objected.
"Actually that sounds appealing to me." Stephen agreed. "However I've got to go back to work soon, maybe after I'm done... I could probably use a break by then."
"Very well." Long agreed. "And you don't have to join us, Alica. No one's going to force you to. It can just be the two of us men, right Stephen?
"I think all that's sneezing's starting to kill off your brain cells if you think I'm gonna let you two drink alone." she replied. "Afterall there's got to be one sober person in the group, right?"
"I won't get too drunk." Dr. Goldberg assured her. "But a little buzz would be nice."
"I'm not planning on getting wasted either." Singh Long added. "Just a little drink or two."
"Anyway, I really ought to be going now." Stephen said, checking his watch. "Back to work as usual... If you're going to be in your dorm then I'll just come knock on your door when you're ready, Long."
"Don't forget me either." Alica reminded. The doctor nodded and rose from the table, then he dumped the remainder of his lunch into the nearest trash can and left the cafeteria.
"Sounds like it's going to be fun, don't you think?" Long asked.
"I think you're a moocher. Really, that performance was terrible."
"Perhaps so, but I got what I wanted didn't I? At least I won't have to go to all the trouble of finding someone to make me a fake ID, although if I'm going to stay here very long then I probably should."
"You don't care about anyone but yourself." she complained.
"Who else should I care about, hm? You? Well I do care about you, but you already knew that. So don't ask silly questions that you already know the answers to."
"You're an egotistical maniac."
"That's me."
"And you're not at all ashamed?"
"Why should I be? Caring for few people besides myself is the only thing that keeps me alive and sane in this horrible line of work." He stirred his soup a bit and sipped another spoonfull or two while Alica contemplated the matter.
"I guess you're right." she agreed.
"If I cared about all people like you do, then I would also end up saving other people's lives and risking my own. Not to mention the lives of those whom I protect. I cannot afford to care about people." he explained.
"And you think I should be that same way? You think I shouldn't risk my own neck to save the people I'm sent to kill?" she asked. He ignored her in favor of sipping up some more soup, hoping that ahe would realize that the answer was obvious. "You do, don't you? But I don't have anyone else to protect or worry about like you do. The only reason I'm killing in the first place is to preserve my own worthless life. I need to take the risk and save people if I can. Otherwise I'll go insane."
"Alica, you're going to become insane sooner or later anyway in this line of work, everyone does. Just look at Fox, Bakuryu, and Greg if you want an example."
"Oh? And won't you also go insane eventually as well? Or do you think you are the one exception?"
"I have a plan." #318 revealed. "I'm going to get out of this one day, I'll just leave it all behind me."
"How are you going to do that? Van will kill your family if you leave."
"Not if he can't find them."
"What do you mean?"
"Much of my income as an assassin is saved up in a bank account. Once I have enough money to support my mother and sister for the rest of their lives I will take them and go into hiding. No one can stop me if I act quickly enough, not even Van, and I know of places where we will never be found. They can kill my father while I'm gone if they like, I really don't care. Of course, my mother and sister might not like it, but there's no way I'm saving his @$$. Not after what he put me through."
"Where can you hide from Van, Long? We have branches all over the world. Tylon is everywhere, and he will find you."
"There are places." was his aloof reply. "But I'm not telling you. Not because I don't trust you, you understand? But because you will be certinaly be questioned after I'm gone. You are a poor liar, Alica Tylon."
"I'm going to have to work on that." she muttered.
"Oh, look! You've got your hair down!" cried a high-pitched femine voice that could only belong to Fox.
"Oh, no." Long groaned, jumping from his seat.
"Going to run again?" Alica assumed.
"I'm in no mood to put up with him today." he explained, starting off towards the door.
"Where are you going my lovely little bishie?" Fox called, running towards them with a lunch tray balanced in his hands. Long dashed out of the room and towards the stairs. Fox ran after him a bit, but when he got to Alica's table he stopped. "Aw... how come all the pretty ones always get away?"
"If I were you I'd leave him alone, Hans." Alica advised. To her surprise Fox sighed and sat down across from her at the table.
"I think I'd rather finish my lunch then chase him anyway." the transvestite agreed, taking a bite out of his sandwitch.
"Why are you after him in the first place? Can't you see that he doesn't like you?"
"But I'm so lonely. Ever since Busu cheated on me, I feel so worthless!"
"That doesn't mean that you've gotta go chasing down people who don't want you."
"But no one does want me." Hans sniffled. Alica considered taking her lunch somewhere else in order to avoid him, but then she realized that she actually pitied him a bit. Anyway it would be rude for her to simply leave, so she resumed eating her lunch. They ate in silence for a few minutes, each a bit uncomfortable and wary of the other's presence, both secretly wondering why the other was still there. Fox glanced up at her with a questioning look in his eyes once or twice, but rather than speak to him she ignored the look. Finally she finished her meal and got up to leave. "Alica..."
"Yes?"
"Could you just... put in a good word for me, with Long?"
"I'm sorry Hans, but he's never going to be interested in you. You should just accept that."
"But I like him!"
"Fox, seriously, you ought to try and be more realistic. Find someone who appreciates you for who you are (if such a person exists). Quit running after people who despise you." That said she turned and left, hoping that he would consider her words. First I scold Long a bit and now give some advice to Hans... What am I, the company's counselor? she wondered. At least Stephen seems to be mature enough not to need it... She thought about dropping by his dorm for a moment, but then realized that he would be working. Guess I'd better leave him alone.
Long ran all the way up to him room once more, dashing through his door and locking it behind him. Then he leaned against the back of the door, waiting for the dreaded sound of pursuit. He listened carefully for any sounds outside his door, trying to control his breathing in order to hear. After a few minutes his breathing calmed down, but still he heard nothing. He stood there a bit longer, wondering what could possibly keep his stalker, and then realized that Hans must have given up this time.
"What a relief." he muttered to himself. He wondered what could have kept Hans from following him, almost daring to hope that the feminine man was losing interest in him. Probably not, he thought. As much as I might hope for it, it is hardly probable. He sighed and walked into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. As he poured the water into his kettle and set it on the stove he wondered what he was going to do with the rest of the day. Usually he used most of his time planning his assignments, playing them out in head head before time. He would go over them meticulously, assuring himself that once he took action everything would go well. But today there was no assignment, which gave him nothing to do but think.
He sat down on the couch for a moment while waiting for the water to boil. He thought about turning on the TV, but discarded the idea almost immediately. Much of what was on would be news about last night's killing, and anything else usually failed to hold his interest. He found most TV shows boring and dull, the news was all he watched anymore. He could remember a time when he was younger and enjoyed watching a few shows, but his interest in them had only been a fleeting thing. All the action, horros, fantasy, romance and game shows were absolutely unnecessary in his eyes. Reality shows had caught his interest once, but after a short while their novelty wore off. He watched a comedy show now and then, but found that he was no longer in possession of even the slightest sense of humor, besides the humor he found at the torment of his targets.
The kettle whistled, interrupting his thoughts. He quickly got up and poured himself a cup, steeping his tea for a minute and stirring in a tiny bit of sugar. All of life is such a futile attempt at happiness, he thought. There is nothing to believe in anymore, and nothing to hold on to, except... the people you love. He took a comforting sip of his tea, savoring it's warmth and bitter-sweet taste as he sat down in his recliner. The thought of being able to save his family used to comfort him as well, but lately it had little effect against his guilt at his own actions. I have already been doing this far too long, he complained. But there was no one to complain to except himself.
He felt as though he were sinking into a bottomless black pit, falling endlessly, unable to free himself from the darkness that consumed him. He could almost feel the emotional pain, as though it were a physical ache within his heart. A bit more of him died each time he took the life of another. The pain was becoming too much to bear, and sometimes he wondered if it would ever end. He remembered all too well how it had started, his first kill quickly followed by the second, third and fourth. And so began an endless succession of deaths caused by him. The truth was that he had no idea exactly how many people he had killed, he never counted them of course. The one thing knew was that had been thousands, the end of it still nowhere in sight.
He sighed and set his tea cup down on the coffe table. The expression on his face was one of solemn hatered for his predicament. His eyes were as empty and soulless as if they were made of glass, and cold as ice, betraying no part of his inner torment. His mouth an emotionless line across his face, denying it's self of the slightest expression of feeling. It was the countenace of a man who had worn so many different grimaces of pain that he had exhausted his ability to do so. He coud no more wear a face lined with pain than he could smile with happiness. Even his laughter, which had once been full of life and joy, was now reduced to nothing more than a deep, empty outlet for air.
I need help. he admitted, grabbing his cup of tea and taking another sip. He reminded himself that there was no way he could leave, not now. Now untill he could assure himself that his family would be safe. But how much more of his lifestyle could he stand? How much more self-induces torture would he have to inflict before it was finally time to put an end to it all? If I don't get out of this soon I am going to go insane, he anticipated. But I must wait. For now all I need is something to calm myself down, something other than a simple cup of tea. He momentarilly considered going back to the cigarettes, but quickly disguarded the idea. Such filthy things...
Oddly enough it was his work that usually calmed him down. He hardly understood why himself. Perhaps it was the fact that planning out his killings occupied his thoughts, keeping him from remembering the pain. But the reason that he hated to admit to most of all, was that taking his anger out on his targets was also becoming a source of comfort to him. Irionic, he thought. That the very cause of my pain, is also the easiest way for me to release it. But it did feel good to hit something, to strike out in anger, even if it couldn't be at the people responsible for it. He found that he desired it, so much that he wished that Van had given him an assignment that day. Anything to take out his anger and keep him from thinking about who he was.
He abruptly decided that sitting around in his dorm wasn't going to accomplish anything. He finished his tea and took the cup back to the kitchen, rinsing it out and setting it in the sink. Then he headed straight for the door, unlocked it, walked through it and locked it again on his way out. He walked down the empty hallway, headed for the elevator. He was going out. He didn't know where he was going, his destination was irrelevant. He had to do something, go somewhere, anywhere to get away from himself. He paused for a moment in front of Alica's door, thinking that maybe she could help. Then he shrugged the idea off. Alica has enough problems of her own, she doesn't need to share in mine.
So he walked on to the elevator, took it down to the parking lot, and jumped into his car, starting the ignition at once and starting off. He drove aimlessly around the city streets for several minutes, only becoming nervous and apprehensive. He felt almost as if eyes were watching him, but whenever he looked there was nothing. Then he remembered the news program from earlier that day, people would be looking for him. Ugh, what am I doing? he thought. This was a very bad idea. He immediately turned around and drove straight back towards Tylon, parking his car in it's usual spot. He stood next to it for a moment, refusing to return to his dorm, but unable to leave the building.
Then he reluctantly started back towards the elevator, wondering what he was going to do. He wanted to get out, but knew that it would be dangerous to do so. Do the city police know anything about my car? he wondered. They could have his license plate number for all he knew, and they certainly had his physical description. So what could he do? He certainly couldn't go walked about on the street during the day, that would be even stupider than driving around in his car. What if I wore some kind of disguise? he wondered. He hated to think of changing his appearance in any way, but he was desperate to leave. In any case they will certainly recognise me in this, he reminded himself, looking down at his uniform.
After re-entering his dorm he went straight to his bedroom and took off all but his underclothes, then started searching through his drawers. There wasn't really much there to begin with, and he reminded himself that he really ought to buy some more clothes soon, but then again he would be recognized. Goddamnit. he griped. I just had to let that woman see me, didn't I? Curse the bitch! Oh well, it is my own fault... I even stayed to chat with her, really brilliant aren't I? After completeing a search of his drawers he found that he had brought nothing other than the formal Chinese clothing he usually wore, which would make him a dead giveaway on the streets. You are hopeless Long, he scolded himself. Completely hopeless. So he did the only thing he could do under the circumstances, he curled up on his bed and fell asleep.