Darkness… infinite darkness was everything that surrounded my surroundings, creating an agonizing atmosphere and totally devoid of any form of life. I felt myself floating, wandering in that dark void as if I had no weight, simply unable to move any part of my body other than my eyes.
The air ... was the strangest thing. There was a breeze ... but not a normal breeze. It was like something ... very fast, and very heavy was circling me, causing this strong breeze. Which just made the experience even more disturbing. Soon… the breeze was accompanied by the sound of a sharp metallic slide, which was followed by a shrill sound of machines working.
I moved my eyes in all directions, trying to locate the source of these strange sounds. But all I could see was that darkness. But soon, a dull thud sounded, plunging the entire dark environment into silence once again. And I finally found the source of the noise.
Because it was right in front of me.
I couldn't see it, there was nothing visible to tell me it was there, but ... I just felt it. I felt that covered by the darkness, right in front of me, was something looking at me. It was a strange feeling ... to know that there is something looking almost through you, but not being able to see what.
The crimson red light burst from the darkness, being the only source of light in that dark place. And looking at that light, I saw that it was actually pairs of eyes that were staring at me.
A strange humming sound, which became more and more acute, took over my hearing, becoming an unbearable sound that seemed to be trying to enter my brain through the eardrums. With no control over my own movements, all I managed to do was stare into the bright crimson eyes as I felt my whole head being crushed by the torturous sound.
6:00 a.m. January 27, 2182, three weeks since waking.
A steady beep sound closer to me than I would like took me out of whatever bizarre scenario my mind was in when I woke up, slowly opening my eyes and closing them back with a groan when I was greeted by the hammering in my head, and the low light that was enough to make my eyes hurt.
"I hate Mondays."
Hitting the headboard in hopes of turning off a non-existent alarm clock, mentally slapping myself when I remembered that the alarm was coming from my omni tool. Gathering the little courage I still had, I forced my eyes to open again, this time keeping them open when I reluctantly lifted my head from the very inviting pillow.
"Hell…" I groaned, taking the pill bottle from my pocket and swallowing the medicine with a sip from the glass of water I had left beside the bed.
Not feeling exactly patient today, I decided not to wait for the medicine to take effect and just staggered towards the bathroom, regardless of the unbearable pain in my head or how sensible my eyes are.
Okay, a summary of what happened is that a man needs his own space. After saving enough of my money, I decided that I could no longer live in the workshop, so I am living in a hotel that I can only describe as decadent. In times of need even the devil eats a fly, and I don't exactly care about luxury as long as I have somewhere to sleep.
And as for the past few weeks ... they served to consolidate what has surely become my new routine. Which consists of waking up early, walking to work, and repairing skycars from customers that may change from complete assholes to people who just want their car fixed. Occasionally me and the guys would pay Kratus a visit and he would welcome us with as many drinks as we can ingest before passing out. Apparently the old krogan's desire to get us drunk was as big as his people's shared passion for fighting.
It's not exactly a glamorous and healthy liver routine, but it has become part of my life. Besides, it's fun, so sue me.
But not everything is perfect. The coordinates on my omni tool still don't tell me anything, as well as my memories that seem increasingly distant and impossible to reach. As if the pile of doubts and unanswered questions I have with me were not enough, the headaches went from being a little annoying to something to be treated. It became more and more intense and unbearable each day, always accompanied by strange nightmares during the night. This gradually became something I couldn't ignore, especially when I found myself needing to double the dose of pills.
Mental note for later: get more medicine from Dr. T'zena. And preferably do a full checkout.
Spitting out the water used to dissolve toothpaste residues in the sink, I briefly contemplated my face, now free of bruises in the mirror, before leaving the bathroom. Going to where I left my black cuban collar short sleeve shirt. Wearing it and leaving my room without ceremony.
And then being greeted by the smell of smoke and pollution strong enough to make my already tired expression turn into a complete frown. This is ... the smell of a blown fuse. What the fuck are they doing this time?
A quick look to my left showed me that there was a skycar on fire on the sidewalk. Several shots could be heard and the krogan wearing red armor with the Blood Pack emblem chasing two batarians only confirmed that it would be a busy morning.
Another day on the edge between hell and earth, where you can see carnage and mercenaries doing public executions every day if you leave the house at the right time. Heheh...
I hate this place.
Shaking my head, I started to make my way to my workplace not so far from the hotel, but far enough from the screams of struggle and suffering that were filling the air from all over the district. Bastard butchers.
One thing I quickly noticed was the presence of the Blood Pack on the planet. According to Harris, they not only have a powerful influence on the planet, they are also the dominant faction since they use Chalkhos as their base for drug crops. result: you could always see some bloody battle scenario going on between the mercenary group and the smaller gangs if you live near one of the districts that border their territories.
Which is my case, much to the dismay of my sanity.
Forcing my mind to ignore the pleading screams echoing in the area nearby and the headache kicking my brain, I walked away from this city of god-style scene as fast as I could.
Another day in Chalkhos I guess.
Say it was a relief to finally get far enough away from my district to not hear the sounds of carnage anymore would be an understatement. But nothing is free, and the discomfort of being forced to hear the screams of the victims of the Blood Pack is replaced by the feeling of having to constantly look over your shoulder.
The street near the markets where the workshop was located did not become more welcoming after three weeks, in fact it got worse. I witnessed at least three robberies and one open-air homicide. Gang murder proved to be as common as clawball matches. Yes, you heard me right. Clawball. Mass effect universe apparently has his version of hockey or whatever is it. I wasn't paying attention to Drerk's explanation.
Looks like I'm not a big fan of sports
One positive thing was that the looks at least diminished. Not that it helped exactly, but at least I didn't feel like a guy wearing clothes at a nudist party anymore.
Or something close to that.
"So we set fire to the whole place! I would like to be there to see that old crap's face, this will teach him a lesson." I looked lazily in the direction of an alley next to a restaurant to my right, where three human teenagers and a batarian were leaving.
The boys were black, asian and calcasian, had a shaved head and a kind of red and black tattoo that formed a kind of web that circled the right side of their faces. The batarian did not have the same marks, but the small red detail on the jacket's shoulders told me that there was the same symbol on the back of the garment.
You don't have to be a genius to know that these guys are gang members. I think the only way would be more obvious if there was a neon sign over their heads written: gang here. Or if they approached you with a "hello, how are you? We are a gang." It is quite obvious.
"This is how it is, you live in our territory and will pay like everyone else. Otherwise, we will-"
The strange sudden interruption in the usual bullshit speech made me look in their direction again, showed me that they had noticed me and were staring at me with the strangest and most malicious of smiles as they passed.
What the… ok, that's the part they steal from me or try to kill me isn't it? Fuck…
Even nervous, I continued on my way, keeping them in my line of vision without looking directly. I expected an attempted theft, or maybe something else. But they kept walking without taking that malicious smile off their faces. It wasn't until they left that I heard one of them start laughing at what seemed to be my expense.
Ok… was there something on my face, or did my life get so fucking complicated that people see it when they look at me and laugh?
Or maybe they're just idiots, who cares? As long as they stay in their own space, I don't give a shit what they do or how they react by any means.
I put that aside when I reached the entrance to the workshop that was practically becoming a second home for me. Incredible, what should have been the source of answers three weeks ago, is now not only a means of livelihood but also the only place that makes my mind forget where I am.
And that can also blow my ears with this dammed fucking music! The songs of hegemony ... are something that can be fun if managed correctly, and strangely familiar to the point of being disturbing. It looks like a cross between Alexandrov ensemble's red army choir and ride of valkyries. A combination of communism and opera in the morning, more stranger impossible. I think it would only be more stranger if their flag was red with horizontal stripes.
"Hey dude!" I called in the direction of the batarian too immersed in his own work to hear me. "DRERK!"
He just kept working on the circuits, the music too much for him to hear. Know what? To hell with it. He would do the same to me if I played Breaking Benjamin, which I found to have a certain love, in the workshop. Grabbing a nearby spanner, I unceremoniously throw it at his head.
"WHAT THE HELL?" He growled loudly enough to be heard between the music, turning and glaring at me. I just gestured to his omni tool.
"Give me a good reason for not kicking your ass here and now for that." He said, rubbing the back of his neck and cutting off the music. Giving me the most dangerous look I've ever seen of him. Ok… bad move with the spanner, time to proceed calmly.
"Because it would take a lot of time and energy, energy that you could be using to fix it there." I looked at the skycar behind him in a quick analysis. "Burned circuits?"
"Melted. Overload followed by an incineration grenade. It dropped the shields, burned the hull and completely melted the circuits." He replied, flexing his fingers. Okay, I'm swimming in dangerous waters here.
"VIP customer?" I asked, keeping my expression impassive. Showing nervousness will only motivate him to go ahead, let's extend this and calm the beast.
Or run if he decides to take the torch.
"The defalco family." He sighed, returning to the skycar. Okay, out of danger. Although I'm sure he'll take it out later.
"That explains the shields." I picked up signs of change around the workshop with a quick look. "What have you been doing around the place?"
"These are speakers. It wasn't very busy when I arrived, so I decided to work on something different to killing time." He replied without taking his eyes off what he was doing. "Some music during the shift is good for relaxing."
"Sure, if you're a fan of the Soviet Union." I chuckled. "Harris's going to kick your ass for messing up."
"Nah. He's not going to show up here."
"Meaning?" I asked, grabbing my work coveralls and starting to dress. Not showing up at work never seemed like his style. It is as if a shark stopped swimming, simply very strange and doesn't happen.
"He called me in the middle of the night, said he had problems with his place or something. It's just you and me today."
"Right…" "So we set fire to the whole place! I would like to be there to see that old crap's face…"
No, no fucking way it's possible. It may just be a coincidence. Things like burning someone's place is one of several cases that are routine here. The chances of them talking about Harris are one in a million
Although the smile they gave me ...
No, not even screwing! They were just idiots. That's it, idiots with a sense of imaginary superiority.
"Kane, if I'm going to have to put up with you alone today, at least move your ass and help me with this stuff." Drerk said, pulling me out of my thoughts. Okay, I have a job to do and pondering about something that may not even have happened is not going to help.
"And here I'm thinking that my winning personality had finally made me grow on you." I chuckle, going over to the skycar he was working on.
"The only thing that has grown is the amount of curses I use whenever I wake up in the morning and remember that I have to work with you." He looked at me, and suddenly grinned. "And your black eye."
"My eye? ..." The answer came in the form of a fist that connected with my left eye, causing me to fall on my back on the floor. Ok… it was sooner than I expected….
"This answer your question."
I just groaned, holding my now sore eye and trying to ignore the headache that comes again when I hit the floor. Note for things to be learned about batarians: bastards are great boxers.
"Look… I think this is the best we can do." I said, looking at the vehicle now at least functional.
"Not enough." Drerk grunted, his three eyes looking so intently at the car that it looked like he was trying to improve the skycar with just mental strength.
"Come on, we replaced the circuits and installed a better shield generator." Least the best we had available. "What else can we do?"
He raised his hand to his chin, looking at the skycar thoughtfully. "I was thinking of adding armor to the hull. Who knows, maybe to do the same with the glass."
"Okay, and since when do we have the budget or the resources to do this?"
That was enough for the thoughtful expression to be replaced by one of defeat and almost hurt. "You have a point."
"Yeah yeah." I reached into my overalls pocket, opening the bottle and swallowing two pills when the pain started to return. My headache is just uncomfortable enough that I don't even care to get a glass of water. What is two pills without water when you have a drill in your brain?
"From your face, I don't think the headache is gone yet."
"Yeah, really wasn't." I replied, massaging the sides of my temple and keeping my eyes closed. "At least the drugs do what they promise. " As far as possible, I am beginning to think that they are losing their effect.
"You should just go to a goddamn doctor, have enough for that now. Unless you're saving up for that fornax subscription." I opened my eyes to give him the blankest look I could, even when my eyes begged me to close.
"Funny, I thought you were a fan of ... 'foreign females'." I grinned.
"A man needs to expand his horizons, and I consider myself a content man." He shrugged, giving his Batarian version an innocent look.
And other things too I bet. "Okay, just tell me what time it is, man. My eyes aren't on their best day." I said, narrowing my eyes.
"Time to change clothes to lock the place."
"Already?" I asked with a surprised look, opening my own omni tool and seeing that it was really 7:20 pm. "We really got lost in that one, didn't we?"
"That's what it looks like, although I still think the armor would make us win… an extra."
I just shook my head, starting to remove the dirty coverall. How can someone be so obsessed with cars, I have no idea.
Anyway, I have other things in mind.
"Hey Drerk, do you have Harris's address on your omni tool?" I asked the batarian now free of his service uniform just like me.
"Yes, he gave it to me in case of emergency. I'm surprised you haven't."
"Well, time to change that. Can you pass it to me?" My omni tool lit up with a beep, and I saw that he had sent me the address. "Thanks."
"No problem, just go to a fucking doctor. Or don't, you're more tolerable when you're in pain, it makes you talk less." He's snarked.
"Whatever Drerk, see you around." I shook my head, opening the omni tool and starting my journey when I left the workshop.
It may just be a coincidence, but it's still something that didn't leave my mind most of the day. Between the headaches and Drerk's obsession with skycars, this was by far the most prevalent thing. And if I don't get clean, I won't be able to sleep at night. Nightmares and pain do a good job on their own, I don't need to add extra worry.
Harris has so far been an enigma as far as his personal life is concerned. He doesn't like to talk about the past, not even when we're drunk. But regardless of not wanting to open up, the guy helped me when I was practically a stranger and this is something I will never be able to pay. So if there's a chance he needs help, I'll be the first to offer.
Not that he'll need it, it's more likely that the paranoid part of my brain is just bothering me. At least ... that's what I hope. For now, let's keep one eye on the omni tool and the other on the surrenders. I still don't want to have a knife stabbing in my back before I even get there.
"Okay, this is the place." I said to no one in particular, closing the omni tool and looking around. Harris once mentioned that he lived in an apartment, now it's just a matter of finding…
What looks like it's not exactly going to be an easy task, this fucking district seems to be entirely residential.
The district of Kaius, named after a vigilant Turian who was disemboweled and crucified in the middle of the place by Garm in person according to the extranet. A large residential area with a small park in the middle that leads to a sewer tunnel system, or what appear to be sewer tunnels.
Very quiet place. I literally haven't heard any gunshots or fighting sounds since I got here, which is a new record. Maybe that's why Harris lives here.
And speaking of Harris, trying to find his seemingly in the middle of so many homes was a problem. My eyes roamed between houses and small abandoned areas inhabited only by gangs and nothing until I finally found … the apartment. Even there's nothing noticeable to indicate that this was the place, except for something so flashy and brutal that it came to be a kind of punch directly in my face.
The apartment had been on fire.
No… Shit! This is bad…
I ran, not bothering if it would attract attention. I just ran as fast as I could, going through the unlocked door and going up the stairs as fast as I could. Although off, the sulfur smell was still in the air, a distorted warning of what I might encounter when I reached the door.
I hesitated for a moment, but gathered the courage to enter the ruined-looking apartment. I didn't get to take two steps, because something very heavy and hard hit the back of my head, making me fall face down on the singed floor.
The blow, in addition to being painful, made my brain pound and everything started to spin when the headache started hammering again, almost as bad and uncomfortable as the blow, if not more. Shit… I think I'm seeing stars.
"Ugh… did anyone write down the license plate of the truck that hit me?" I groaned, massaging my head now pulsing with pain. Who hit me?
"Damn it kid." A voice, sounding a little muffled and distant, spoke and I felt myself being put back on my feet when.
My vision was spinning, and my head felt like it was going to explode. The only thing preventing me from falling again was a hand on my arm keeping me on my feet. Following the arm, I saw who the hand belonged to and even in a dizzy state I allowed myself to feel relief when I saw my boss's aged face.
"Harris, you're fucking alive!" I said, moving away from him and leaning against the wall. Closing my eyes and massaging my temples. "Hell… what the hell…"
"What are you doing here kid?" He asked, impassive.
"You know, an apology for hitting me with an iron rod would be nice." I said, looking briefly at the rusty pipe in his hand.
"If you didn't want to be hit, you shouldn't have shown up in the first place. Now what the hell are you doing here for?"
"You know, a damn simple thanks now would be great." I snapped, more from the screaming pain in my head than anything else. "You didn't show up at the workshop so I asked Drerk for your address and came to see what the problem was. Give me a fucking break."
I expected a return, or even that he hit me again, but he just sighed before saying: "Sit down kid, I hit you hard there." He gestured to the chair incredibly intact despite the singed environment.
Without objections, I sat down. Blinking my eyes a few times until the pain became minimally tolerable. "What the hell happened here?"
"Stove problem." He replied simply, discarding the pipe and going back to what looked like cleaning utensils. "I left it on and when I came back the place was on fire. I was lucky, it could have been worse."
"Harris, even if I didn't know your normal reserved style, I would know that you're lying." I said, keeping my face serious. Before it was just suspicious, but now I'm sure. "You got in some trouble with the gang that control this district, didn't you?"
He didn't turn, just stood still. I was already formulating a whole speech when he was going to deny it. Okay, I start with the old classic "you can't do everything yourself" or do I use a line from a movie? Considering how stubborn he is, I-
"Yes."
"…." That was easier than I thought. Or maybe I could have heard it wrong. Did I hear wrong?"Harris, do you mind repeating?"
"I had a disagreement with K.O.D." he turned to look at me, arms crossed and an unreadable face. "They charge a monthly fee to everyone in the Kaius district since they took over. A monthly fee that I never paid."
"K.O.D?"
"Kings of destruction." He shrugged. "Large group, nothing close to the Blood Pack pistol but has an influence despite the ridiculous name."
"And they like to burn people's houses as far as I can see." I sawed my fists when I looked around. You could hardly tell how good the room was, it was so burnt out. "The idiots still looked me in the face and laughed, laughed while bragging about what they did as if it were something fun."
"Welcome to-"
"Not." I looked at the arson scene feeling a frown forming on my face, both from the exploding headache and from the anger. "This is not Chalkhos, this is just shit dude, dirty and smelly shit. At least there is some honor between mobsters and mercenaries, this is just entertainment for a bunch of idiots."
"Still, this is how it works. I was not surprised, living in a gang-controlled district and not paying the fee is asking for something like this to happen." He went back to the cleaning utensils and started working on the place.
"Harris, they are not going to stop with just a fire."
"Maybe."
"How much is the debt?"
He stopped what he was doing and looked back at me. An expression that was on the edge between warning and… worry I think. "Kid ... no."
"How much is the debt?" I repeated, giving him a look that made it very clear that I wouldn't let it go until he gave me a number.
"Kid, this is not your business."
"I'm going to piss you off until you give me a fucking number, even if I have to get a mattress and spend the night in that screwed-up place asking continuously until your are pissed off. "
He just sighed, clapping his face. "Look, I know what you're doing. But I already warn you that you can't pay. I gave you how much you earn, hell, I pay your damn salary kid."
I didn't move, just kept waiting with the fullest and most patient look I could give him. We stared for almost a minute until he sighed in defeat.
"Five thousand credits."
"Oh." It is not exactly little money. My scowl turned to an expression of complete anger. We give all your money or we burn your house. Greedy bastards.
"I said you couldn't afford it."
"Harris, just forget I asked. Do you want help with that?" I gestured to the cleaning utensils.
"Nah, I already hit your head with the barrel, I'm not going to ask you to do that. This old marine can still handle a little legwork. Go home, boy."
"Harris…"
"I'm serious, Kane, just leave. I prefer to do this kind of thing without an audience."
Giving up, I just nodded before I left the room, down the stairs and back on the path I used until I returned to the quiet district and started walking.
Five thousand credits ... it certainly won't end in a fire. Harris won't pay, hell, I wouldn't pay either. And these idiots won't take no for an answer. If that situation is not resolved …
"They will kill him." I sighed, rubbing my temple when the realization and pain started to be too much to bear. "They will kill him sooner or later. All because of that stupid imposed debt."
As the saying goes, doing nothing has consequences. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do, but I can guarantee that I'm not going to stand still. Opening my omni tool, I called one of the only numbers on my contact list and waited until a hoarse voice answered.
"Kane… what do you want? And if you say you missed me, I'm going to beat you, right after you stick your head in a desert hole."
I just rolled my eyes before saying, "Drerk, you've been saving up to buy that hegemony skycar made for highborn right?"
"... Was it Kratus who told you? Just because I am a mechanic with no ties to hegemony doesn't mean I can't-"
"Yes or no?" I cut him off from any unnecessary justification, the pain in my head continuing to bother me, almost as if it was getting worse by the second.
"Yes."
"How much do you already have?"
"Look Kane, we work together and we have a good time with this weird thing we have at work. But don't think that I'm going to start telling you things like-"
"Harris owes K.O.D. money. They burned his apartment for not paying the fucking tuition and will kill him if he keeps it up. So just tell me: How. Much. You. Have." I said flatly, a frown formed on my face even though I was doing a good job of ignoring the growing pain.
"Four thousand saved."
"Perfect." The expenses with the hotel and my clothes left me with about fifteen hundred."Are you going to give me your address or do you mark the place?"
"Workshop, I'll get dressed and meet you in thirty minutes."
"Right." Without further ado, I cut the call, making my way back to the market district.
"Charming place." It was the best I could think of in the absence of a better term when I found myself in front of a door at the back of an alley that was next to a food restaurant.
Between the seemingly respectable establishment that produces quality food and the disgusting streets of the planet, this place… smelled like drugs and shit. One thing Drerk was right when he gave me the address, you can't miss. Walking to the entrance, I watched the Batarian guard vomiting in the dumpsters, so busy getting his guts out that he didn't even see me reaching the door unlocked. Luck or divine providence? I like to think it was a little bit of both. Maybe things don't go south and I can get someone to see things from a more reasonable point of view.
Or so I hope. I can just end up dead trying ... no! Focus. Just go in, channel your Walter white interior and you'll be fine. They are just… drug dealers… armed drug dealers….
Fuck it.
Without wasting any more time, I took a deep breath and went through the door that closed behind me. Chances of going back? I think she was gone the moment I walked through the door. Now its all or nothing.
Hello crack house.
In addition to the low lighting, and the stench, the only things that can be detached are the totally numb addicts and the amount of dirt. For the rest, just an old building at the back of an alley that has become a… shitty den.
Okay, time to use my limited knowledge of movies and series that I vaguely remember thanks to my fucking selective amnesia. Gang bosses like… drugs, space for friends and…
Music.
Coming from the top floor, up the spiral staircase in the hall to my right I think. Walking towards the spiral staircase, and ignoring the suspicious looks of the only individuals who were not high, I made my way to where I hope it is the right direction. Please, let no one try to stab me before I get there …
"Did you lose your shit over here or something?" I looked in the direction of a turian with facial marks similar to the tattoos of the boys from morning. He was leaning against a door with music coming from inside, looking at me like he was deciding whether to steal from me or not. Why do people always look at me like that? I must consider changing my appearance if I survive this.
"I…" I cleared my throat, trying to put the least composure into my voice. Demonstrating how wet my pants are will only get me a cut throat. "I want to talk to your boss, I want to do business."
"I am my own boss human." He said dryly, looking between me and the bag I had carried over my shoulder. "But if you want to do business, it's Smith you have to talk to. He's beyond that door."
"Are you going to let me in?" I asked, trying to sound composed and impatient. Truth be told, I'm scared.
He opened the omni tool, the lock on the door changed from red to green a second later. "If you piss off someone in there, I will come in and shoot you in the head."
Swallowing discreetly, I walked to the door that rose in response to my closeness. What was clearly a conversation going on, stopped the minute I entered the room and found myself in front of bad men, who, unlike the tales of the black freighter, were not afraid of me.
God help me.
As if my heart racing, the sweat running down my forehead and the urge to run away were not enough to warn how bad this could go, my head… hurts. hurts a lot, it hurts more than it has in three whole weeks.
Even in pain and fear, I walked slowly towards the table in the center of the room where a human boy was sitting in the back, avoiding eye contact with the two batarians and the other human in their seat. Just don't look, and you'll be fine. Take it easy Mike, easy and slow. It's not like the basic rules to avoid being attacked by a dog apply here, but it made me feel better. Even though my head seems to want to explode.
"Are you Smith?" I asked, looking the dealer clearly high in the eyes, trying not to let my pain show on my face. Hell… focus, just hold on until this is over.
"The only and said king!" He smiled, revealing a mouth with black teeth that next to his tattooed face gave him a bizarre appearance. "I never saw you around here, so what, Are you looking for something to… liven things up or are you looking for problems? Because me and the boys like to solve problems."
A quick look around showed me that the other occupants of the room had grabbed their weapons and knives just to emphasize "solving problems." Great. Ok… focus.
"So, I think we will understand each other better than I thought. I'm here because I also like to solve problems, problems like the ones you and your people caused when burned my friend's house down this morning. " I said, impassive. Even though my head was hammering and my heart felt like I just ran a marathon. This, stay firm and you will succeed.
"Ah, now I remember! Smith, he is one of the employees of that old man that we taught a lesson earlier today." One of the batarians said, not even trying to disguise the fun of remembering the fact. Cross-eyed bastard.
"So, let me see if I understand." I thought Smith's black smile couldn't get any wider, I was wrong. "We burned your friend's place because he just didn't pay what he owed, and even though you know that, you get satisfaction? Either you have too many balls or you're stupid." He pulled out a predator pistol and put it on the table.
"That would be right, except for the part that I didn't come to get satisfaction, but to pay the debt that Harris Carlton owes you." I said, putting the bag on the table and opening it to reveal all the credits that Drerk and I converted into chips. "Five thousand isn't it? It's all there. You can count it if you want."
He looked at the bag impassively, then at me. His unreadable expression was replaced by a rather malicious and somber one that did not please me at all. Suddenly the pain was no longer as bad as the worry. What the hell is going on in this guy's head?
"Okay dude." He held out his hand to me. I faced it reluctantly before extending my own. However instead of a handshake, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to look him in the eye.
I didn't move, because I couldn't. The pain in my head was too strong for me to think of any form of reaction, so I just listened in silence when he started to talk.
"Five thousand? Do you really think that I or any of the guys give a shit about five thousand credits? We control the whole fucking Kaius district, five thousand it's garbage compared to what we earn. Am I right guys? "
Laughter and nod of agreement were heard behind me before he approached my ear and said: "The issue is not about money, your dear friend insulted us when he thought he could live in our territory without paying. And so, let's not just stop at the house, let's get him and give him a real hell of a beating and show him off in public and then shoot him in the head. We will do this so that everyone knows what happens when you try to insult us!" He released me, pushing me sharply away from him. The pain, and the dizziness followed by it, were so intense that I barely stood up.
"Welcome to K.O.D. Now leave and take your fucking money before I pull out that pistol and shoot you, you snob prick."
Amazed, in pain, and completely shocked, I found myself unable to do anything but do exactly what he said. Taking the bag and walking towards the exit, it felt like my headache was getting worse with every step I took.
I could literally feel the pain and unbearable pressure spreading through my brain, making my steps towards the exit slow and torturous as a way to put my epic failure to negotiate in my face. It wasn't about the money, it's about showing power and making an example. They're going to kill Harris… and what the hell did I do about it? What the hell can I do?
(You know what you have to do)
I stopped at the door, looking over my shoulder for the voice, a female and hard voice, but too muffled for me to recognize. But there was no woman in the room, what the hell….
(You know the drill, you know the procedure) I tried to move my limbs but I couldn't. I just managed to stand and listen to that voice.
(Do what you were trained to do)
What was I trained to do? What the hell does that mean?
(Do it Kane)
Do what?
(Do it Kane)
What the fuck am I supposed to do? Where the hell is that voice coming from?
(DO IT!)
The pain in my brain took on another proportion when the voice seemed to echo painfully through my head, sending a heavy pressure that seemed to be splitting my whole skull. I found myself gritting my teeth and almost crying in pain until ... it stopped.
The pain is gone. No clues or anything. I felt light.
I felt good, I felt realization, as if I were in a dream that became lucid. The words that had chanted in my head now seemed so clear when I turned to face those in the room, dropping the bag on the floor and looking directly at Smith.
"I do it."
Almost as if I were just on autopilot, I walked towards the table in the center, an action that generated a reaction from the K.O.D members in the room with batarian at the table to my right was the first to react, trying to grab my arm. What I didn't even expect was that as if by pure instinct my left fist would hit his upper pair of eyes, exposing his windpipe that I hit right after before grabbing his head between my forearm and take the pistol that he had in the back, shooting at Smith who barely had a chance at aiming on me before getting hit by a mass accelerator round.
A well-applied twist later, and the sound of the batarian's sickening crack of the now broken neck was like a cue for me to drop the dead body and focus my attention on the human and batarian survivor who trying to engage me. Using the gun I had in my hand as a makeshift club, I hit the human boy in the face and shot the batarian in the head before hitting the boy in the face again and again until he fell. This however did not stop me from lowering myself to his level, stuffing the barrel of the gun in his mouth and blowing up the back of head, spreading brain material and blood across the floor.
Door opening.
My reaction to the sound of the door opening was to spin, directing a kick that connected with the turian's jaw, sending blue blood through the air and causing the alien to tilt to the side, taking off the piston He stood up, advanced on me with exposed claws that he aimed toward my throat. I just bent down, avoiding the blow and retaliating with a punch that caught him right in the injured jaw and made him retreat. He attacked again, only for me to dodge again and hit him in the face several times until he found himself against the wall with a bloody and beaten face.
One last slow and desperate move was his final attempt at attack that I easily avoid by simply grabbing his arm inches from my face, breaking his fingers and grabbing the bangs at the same time I reached for the knife on the floor, cutting his throat before he could scream in pain, watching life leave his eyes while the exposed windpipe continued to gush blood.
He spit words in blood, trying to say something that I didn't bother to understand when I just threw it aside and walked over to the table where the last survivor was desperately trying to escape to nowhere. Lowering myself to his level, I turned Smith so that he faced me.
"Who are you?" He asked, the confidence of before totally erased, he was just afraid now.
I raised my fist and hit him in the face repeatedly. The impact went through my arm and blood started to spread on my wrist as I continued to beat. I don't know how long it lasted, I just know I didn't stop until his body was completely still and the place where his face used to be was nothing more than a bunch of bloody skin and exposed facial bones.
I pulled away from the body, taking a handkerchief from the table and cleaning my fist before discarding and leaving the room. My legs…. They were moving on their own, my mind and all the muscles on autopilot. Only when I left the place and found myself back in the alley did the realization of what I had just done hit me hard.
I looked down at my hands, now partially smeared with blood. I stood there, waiting for the feeling of wrapping in my stomach, or the guilt and all the dark and devastating feelings that my actions imply ... but none of that came. None of this came.
I just killed five people ... fuck… five people! Shit! I KILLED FIVE FUCKING PEOPLE! WHY THE HELL I AM NOT FEELING HORRIBLE ABOUT IT? WHAT'S MY DAMNING PROBLEM ?! I AM A GOODMAN KILLER AND ... WHY DON'T I FEEL GUILTY FOR THAT ?!
Hyperventilating, and almost freaking out, I collapsed against the alley wall, falling on top of garbage bags and standing still without caring. Even when the raindrops started to fall, I didn't care.
Mike Kane ... you are officially a bloody murderer. And if there is a God, I hope he will forgive me, because I don't feel a bit bad about what I just did. I don't feel bad for having just killed five living beings ...
"I forgot the damn money in there ... "
Fuck my life
And here we are. I wrote this chapter during one of my insomnia bouts, but I'm posting it again for the fourth time because the site messed up.
Kane found out that there's a lot more on him than he expected and now let's see how he deals with the fact that he now has blood on his hands and doesn't feel bad about it.
There's a reference to a 1996 action/crime in that chapter, so if you found it you'll win a coffee.
Answering Phantom0408: it occurs one year before the first mass effect. Enough time to work on some cool stuff and reach the first game.
If you like it, review. Reviews are like fuel for me, always motivated me to keep going knowing that people are enjoying it.
