Still alive, sorry it took so long, love you guys forever. Characters not Dante are mine. TLC - SunChildRay
Ut is cado
By the time I made it to my stop it was half past 4 o' clock. The still rising sun was casting its morning rays on the concrete sidewalks, brick buildings, and people. I was dead dog tired after finishing a triple shift for a prick who didn't know the value of a good employee, but despite this the pay was decent. A wad of hundreds says contently in my jean pocket. I could actually pay my rent in full this time. Humming absentmindedly I turned down Vigil Blvd. Keeping straight I eventually ran into the old, rundown factories of the once well-known area previously called the "Metal Works". It used to be a huge industrial area that catered to over twenty blocks of factories ranging from automobile assembly, clothing, straw making, etc. if it required a building the Metal Works catered to it. Pity to see it in the state it is in now.
Heaving a sigh, I made my way between two factories and climbed the steel gate between them. I only had to face left and I was looking at the Alpine bricks and ivory paint of my apartment complex. It was decent looking place built during the more prosperous days- a three story building more tall than wide; the ivory paint was peeling away, and starting to turn green with mold while the bricks on the bottom had turned black from dirt and grime. There wasn't a yard (only sidewalk) and the first floor windows had been barred. I punched my personal number code into the keypad of the front door, hearing a buzz I pushed the heavy door open. The foyer consisted of dim lighting, heavy beige curtains, and dark furniture sporting cushions with oriental patterns probably older than me. Whoever was the interior decorator they gave a solid attempt to make the place nicer but fell short of the mark… oh well; at least it didn't smell like moth balls.
In the foyer I noticed two older gentlemen playing a game of checkers whom I quickly identified.
"Mr. Fitz. Mr. Simmons." A grunt of acknowledgement came out of the throat of one of the aged men at the table, identified as Mr. Fitz.
"Oh hello Dante, you're in later than usual. Is everything alright?" The man on the other end of the table, Mr. Simmons, inquired.
"Yea, triple shift." It wasn't said rudely only made as a simple statement of fact.
"Get some rest then." And put his attention back to the game at hand.
"That's the plan…" I was about to take the elevator when I noticed the heavy padlock and no sign of a key. "Elevators out?"
"Really now? Well, let me know when it gets back in. King me, Simmons." Mr. Fitz sarcastically addressed the question while slamming down a checker piece on the opposite end of the board and arrogantly folding his arms across his chest.
Mr. Simmons and I exchanged glances for a moment before I shrugged; Mr. Simmons sighed and obeyed the command, placing one of the red pieces he had captured on top of the other. Mr. Fitz scoffed and waved his hand as a silent command to have Mr. Simmons make his next move. I was quickly forgotten as they resumed their game. I let it pass as I've been up since 7am yesterday and my day is finally coming to a close, I need to sleep. NOW. Rummaging for my keys as I walked, I went up to the stairs to the third floor, room 312, and opened my apartment.
My room was simple: A modest- sized square room that has plain curtains decorating the medium sized casement window. The floor is completely covered by a mint- colored carpet and the walls are a warm brown evocative of cocoa with a border of cream along the bottom. Despite my room facing the east, it is almost lightless, though rather high-ceilinged. The air is stale - no doubt from my opprobrious addiction to cigarettes- yet I manage to breathe without twitching my nose. This room could still use a bit of fresh air so I open my curtains and window. Warm, heavy summer air blasts from the open window dissipating the smell and allowing breathing to be more manageable. I drop my jacket on my messy bed; grabbing a cigarette from my dresser, I light one up and lean against my window.
The sun was high in the sky and looking at my clock it was 6:46 am. To my exhausted body it felt like three days had passed since I had a good meal and sleep. I put my cig on the ash tray on my window ceil and walked to my corner bathroom. A shower did well to my body soon I felt relaxed and fully clean, now it was time to eat. Taking myself to the tiny rectangle I call my kitchen, I looked in my refrigerator and found one egg and a piece of wheat toast in the freezer (yes, I put my bread in my freezer it makes it last longer until I can afford more food) taking them out then retrieving a pan I had in my cupboard I started my "Breakfast of Champions"- a fried egg, toast, and a glass of water. Now that I was feed and somewhat satisfied I crawled into bed to get some well-earned rest.
I was barely asleep for an hour before I began to dream. No… a nightmare that always starts the same – I'm in a house consumed by fire, bright colors of orange, red, and yellow eat away at brick and wood causing the house to crumble upon itself. The ceiling caving in from the heat and flames as it eats away at the titles above me. I'm bleeding, curled up in a ball holding my guts in while screaming for a mother, a brother, or a friend… someone to help me; then, he walks out of the fire holding bloodied feathers and he speaks to me yet all I hear is silence. He gives me one last forlorn look before he walks back into the fire ignoring my pleas for mercy. I reach out my hand only to grasp at flames suddenly above me the ceiling cracks. I look up with what little strength I have and-
CRASH!
The sound jolts me awake as my window is broken through- broken glass and wood fly at me from the impact of the intrusion but it's the weight on my body that pulls me out of bed. I covered my face quickly and roll over onto the floor pulling my intruder with me causing us to hit the floor with an indecent 'thump'. I quickly kick them off me and reaching in my nightstand pull out my Beretta M9 putting to the head of my invader.
"PLEASE, PLEASE! I BEG YOU! D-D- DON'T KILL ME! P-PLEASE!"
Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, I started to pay attention to the man before me. He had blonde hair and super pale skin yet what made me really raise an eyebrow were the four hours sticking out of his skull, placed parallel to each other and his arms had black markers. He had his face covered but I could see several bloody gashes across his face.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded and pointed the gun closer to his head.
"Nicolai. Please don't shoot, I was only trying to get away I promise!"
"Get away from wh-"Suddenly, He swiped at me with black claws and he would have gotten me too if I hadn't moved slightly to my left; however, just because he missed me didn't mean that my nightstand didn't take any damage. I quickly turned and found myself staring at a hole that was quickly leaking clean clothes onto the floor. "The FUCK?!"
The next one I wasn't too lucky with, the bastard got me with his attack and knocked my gun out of my hand. It slid at least ten steps away and he was still swiping at me with those black claws of his. I grabbed my floor lamp and blocked his lunge- the damn bastard snarled at me too! Using the lamp as a shield I slowly rounded to my gun keeping distance between us. He was on all fours and paced around me waiting for an opening to give him an upper hand.
But he wouldn't get one. When I finally had closed the gap enough between the gun and myself I dropped the lamp and dove for my Beretta. The bastard was fast but I was quicker, I turned around just as he lunged for my throat, I released the safety and pulled the trigger hitting him square in the right shoulder. He dropped to the floor clutching his wound then tried to make a run for the door; however I grabbed one of his horns and slammed his face into the floorboard. I was done playing games. I pulled his horn again, forcing him to stand and smashed his face into the countertop of my kitchen. I heard a satisfying crack as his nose broke on my countertop. If this 'Nicolai' believed he was having a bad day before he crashed through my window it was about to turn to shit. The gun barked in my hand as I shot off one of his horns. He screeched and whimpered like an animal as he heard his horn clatter to the floor.
"Now let's stop playing games. You're going to be honest with me and tell me why you busted through my window. Did the Tongs send you?"
"T-Tongs? I didn't, I don't!" He stammered. I shot off another horn.
He screeched even louder and started crying. "IdontknowwhothetongsareIwasjusttryingtogetawayIpr omise! I promise!" He was speaking so fast I could barely decipher what he said.
"Bullshit!" I pushed his face harder onto the countertop. "If you really wanted to get away you would have ran for the door before now instead of trying to kill me!"
"How could I? You had a g-gun pointed at my face! And I wasn't sure if you were going to shoot me so I had to move first!" … He had a point.
I heaved a sigh and put the safety back on my gun then forced him to look at me. "Alright so if you really are 'trying to get away' then WHO might I ask are you running from?"
As if a godsend, I got my answer. HE flew through my busted window- long black trench coat, black gloves and shoes, all to top it off he had a military hat with a pin in it that was all too recognizable. He landed gracefully on my bed then brushed off his uniform and stood at attention. His head turned to us and he eyed the Beretta M9 in my hand along with the kid. Slowly he reached inside his coat (I tensed up for the worst), pulling out a black wallet and flipped it open.
"Agent 0063, Third officer of S.D.R.U. and I'm here to retrieve the criminal you have in your possession and have him reprimanded… and as for you sir, I'll take you to the local police as I'm sure you are aware… it is ILLEGAL for any citizen of Limbo City to have a weapon unless they are of the law. And I'm certain you're not." There was no inflection in his voice, it was as cold as steel.
"….Fuck."
End Chapter
