II

One minute Chino's apartment was vacant. Most of his belongings lay in their boxes, opened, but not yet unpacked. Clutter was abound, yet restricted to only the sides and corners of the rooms. All the lights were off. A queer breeze swept through the room, even though all doors and windows were closed. Then all, of a sudden, with a feint glow about him... Chino appeared out of thin air.

He panted, and caught his breath, as he lumbered over to the kitchen. He poured himself a tall glass of apple juice. His brow glistened with sweat, and held his hair to it, forcing him to brush it back with his hand. Chino collapsed down into a seat at his kitchen table. He went to take another sip of juice, but his coat sleeve caught something. He noticed that it was shredded into sections from his elbow down. Frustrated, he withdrew a makeup compact from his pocket, and reflected upon himself.

He was handsome, but not devastatingly so. A Puerto Rican, he was also of a complexion that he could pass for just about any ethnicity along the Mediterranean, in the Middle Eastern or even Pacific Islander. His eyes were big, brown, and intense. His nose and cheeks were a tad large, his lips were thin, and his jawline was strong. His hands had many slashing scars on them, his knuckles were badly calloused as though pads had been infused over the skin, but his hands were also those of an artist - long fingers, bony, classically shaped with no overextentions or deviations from common range of flexibility.

His mind sauntered about in his dark kitchen. His keen ears picked up a moan from nowhere. He looked around, but the sound had come from truth the wall. He brushed it off, but a minute later, there was another one. Definitely a woman's moan. Chino rolled his eyes. This was not what he needed right now. As he left the kitchen to elude the sexual symphony that was tuning up, he heard bedsprings start to work themselves up as well. The kitchen wall must have also been his nextdoor neighbor's bedroom. As he went down his hallway, away from the kitchen, he hoped that meant he wouldn't be able to hear anymore from his room. Given his gift of hearing, he knew that wasn't a sure bet. Chino turned on the TV to drown out the sounds.

There was little of interest in the news. Local politicians in scandals, companies laying off workers, and of course - crime. Chino threw off his ruined coat, and stood in only his black slacks and sneakers, and went bottom's up on his beverage. His physique was rippled enough to stand out even in an martial arts "B" movie. Under his bronze skin, it seemed there was hardly an ounce of fat on him. His chest, shoulders and arms were quite developed, and there was no sign of a belly around his six-pack. There were, however, more scars. Some of them small, some of them over an inch wide. There were a great deal of them around his forearms, around the area where the coat was shredded. He also donned a golden chain and plain cross around his neck. It tickled him as he drank, as it was a bit tangled. In undoing it, he thought about God, and said a little prayer silently.

"God, I know given the choices I make, this next request seems a little... hypocritical. But if you could help me out in that department, I'd really appreciate it. It's felt like ages since I've been with a woman, and I'm trying my best to fight these urges and show some restraint. Please take the reminder away. Please let me remain calm, pure, and uncomplicated... for a while longer. Thanks. Amen."

Chino never met God, or Gaia, or Allah or whomever. But he couldn't shake the notion that sometimes, he had a sense of humor, and simply enjoyed laughing at people. It was a comforting thought, both as a sign that the world wasn't really as screwed up as Chino thought it was, and it helped him deal with the fact that the music of his neighbors love making would not let him sleep. He discovered this while brushing his teeth, as he could still hear them feintly from the bathroom, and he knew that trying to sleep through that would only peak his sense of hearing, and stir him up inside.

When he returned to his bedroom, a story of interest accompanied the newscast back from commercial break.

"And now, a Channel 6 exclusive. A grizzly murder scene has left a local neighborhood devastated and police baffled. A 25 year old woman was found dead, her badly body mutilated in a back alley behind the 24-7 convenience store on Forsythe and Main. She was discovered by a 24-7 employee. Police are not yet commenting on whether this death is related to the three other apparent homicides in the past two weeks, but sources close to Channel 6 tell us that the extreme damage done to the victims, and the M.E.'s inabilty to explain it is a common thread linking all the crimes, and is the only substantial lead they have. The funeral for Eunice Hickenbottom, the third of the four victims, is tomorrow at St. Agatha's Church."

Chino sighed, and hung his head. Then he hurled the plastic drinking tumbler down the hall. "Goddammit"!