*So I got a little excited about the influx of readers lately, and decided to release another chapter quickly. Or maybe I'm just hopped up on caffeine.*
MOVE
Van is lounging on his sofa, laying amongst dozens of beer cans. The creaky fan above him has the cadence down every quarter second, causing Van's eye to twitch from aggravation. He screams and throws a beer can at it. He lays back down with his knees curled up to his chest as he stares at the television.
"Bullshit amulet," he says, "don't need to be in some stupid war. I was just trying to help people. They don't want it? Screw em!"
Suddenly, the power in his apartment goes out, shrouding it in shadows, even mid-day. Van screams, then gets to his feet, flipping the light switch repeatedly.
"Now what!?" he roars.
As if answering his question, a loud knock at the door vibrates through his apartment.
Van grumbles, then stands up, stumbling to the door, feeling his way around the room. He fondles the doorknob for a moment before opening it. An older man, slightly overweight, wearing a sweater is standing before him in the doorway, his thick wire frames residing ow on the bridge of his nose. He stands up straight, standing roughly five inches shorter than Van, and clears his throat.
"Mr. Vance," he exclaims, your electricity bill was late, again. And I see that you have lost your job."
"Yeah yeah, workin' on it."
"Well, be that as it may, you are consistently late with payments, and I cannot stand for this! I will need you to leave at the end of next month…which I also expect payment for!"
Van looks baffled. "…So, I pay you in full, every time. Little late here and there, but I don't ever skip em. I help you out when I can with moving people in and out. I even fed your damn dog while you were away…and you're evicting me?"
The little man begins to sweat. "Yes, you are a delinquent, and I will not be the haven for your delinquent activities."
"I'm drinking dude…not cooking meth."
"Well…I'm sorry."
"Na, you're not. Giving me two months you said? Cool, then get the HELL out of my apartment for the next two months!"
Van slams the door in his face.
"FUCK!"
The "S" bar seems more dreary than usual. The typical crowd is scarce, with the exception of a few men in biker jackers sitting at the counter. In the corner of the counter resides Van, looking more disheveled than usual. He has a dense growth of stubble across his jaw, and his clothes are heavily wrinkled, spotted with various liquid stains. The aroma of his unwashed body repels any nearby patrons. His black eyes seem glossed over as he brings the glass of whiskey up to his lips, the liquor no longer burning his throat. The bartender walks over, and Van raises his eyes to meet hers
"Hey, listen," the woman says as she leans over the counter, "I've seen you come in here for years with that shit-eating grin of yours…but you look like shit. You alright?"
"I'm fine," says Van, "another…please."
The bartender sighs. "Alright."
She walks away. A man sits down beside Van. The television above is set to a news forecast.
The reporter on tv is speaking into a microphone. "Construction has began, attempting to rebuild after the tragic collapse of the skyscraper in Avalon weeks ago due to a structural defect."
His voice drones on as Van watches with laser focus while taking another swig of his drink. The man to his left nudges him.
"Messed up shit, right?" he asks.
Van raises an eyebrow. "Hmm?"
"Damn engineers, can't do their job. Killin buncha people."
"Yeah? Maybe it was a god damn accident…dick!" Van snaps back.
The man stands up, throwing his stool to the floor.
"Watch your mouth, you little shit!"
Van finishes his glass and stands up, bringing his face towards the man's.
"Or what, prick!?" he snarls.
Outside of the bar, in the alleyway beside its side door, the man punches Van across the jaw. The pain ripples through his face, rattling his teeth. He spits out a glob of blood, then grins. Van screams, then swings at the man, jabbing him twice in the stomach.
"You hit like a pussy!" yells the man.
"Yeah?" replies Van.
He grabs his necklace.
"Silver Bullet!"
Van's eyes ignite with white fire, and the lines race down his body. Armor slinks over his arms and body, locking into place. The light resides, leaving the Silver Bullet standing in Van's place. The man looks terrified.
"What in the…"
Before he can finish, Bullet's arm is already crushing against his neck, he rears back, then punches the man in the chest. The man's body rips through the door to the bar, tumbling through the rickety chairs and tables set up on the main dining floor. The patrons of the bar look over just in time to zip a blur of speed as Bullet zips inside and grabs the man, lifting him above his head. His arms are shaking.
"I could break you so easily," Bullet hisses, spit flying out between his teeth. "One hit would shatter your bones!"
"STOP!" screams the bartender.
Bullet looks to his right at the bartender. She is shaking and nearly in tears, terrified at Bullet. Bullet looks up at the man, who has a similar reaction. He looks around the remaining bar area. Everyone is backed against a wall, dialing 911 on their phones, or just shaking in fear. Bullet slowly lowers the man to his feet, then backs away, looking at his hands.
"I…I'm sorry…" he says, "I don't know what's going on…I don't…I'm…I gotta go!"
He disappears in a blur.
Van is stumbling along the mulch-laden track of the Avalon City Park. The overcast sky seems moments away from ripping open, pouring rain down across the city. His feet are dragging across the floor, flicking wood chips every which way. Suddenly, footsteps come stomping closer to him from behind, and Van snaps around in a panic. The woman steps aside from him, momentarily startled as she continues on her evening jog, earbuds bouncing with each step. Van has his arms up in a defensive position, and he is breathing rapidly.
"I'll never use it again," says Van, "make this go away, and I'll never transform again."
He continues walking, finally coming upon a wooden bench. He sits down slowly, the wood creaking underneath his weight. A man jogs by, his dog trotting along beside him. The dog growls as it passes Van, who instinctively grabs his necklace. The two pass by, and Van looks down at his hand, immediately releasing the amulet. He pulls his knees up to his chest, drops his face into his legs, and begins to cry. Moments pass, several sets of feet walking by before one finally walks over.
"Van?" asks a woman's voice.
Van looks up, his eyes blurry from both the tears and the sun. The face comes into view to reveal Sarah, who looks a combination of terrified and concerned.
"Sarah?" asks Van, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm…going for a walk. Well, it was nice seeing you, I'll…"
"No please!"
Van leaps to his feet. Sarah leaps backwards, startled.
"Please Sarah," begs Van, "I did some stupid shit, and now I'm trying to fix it, and everything I do is just, wrong. I try and try and try, I help one person, and accidentally hurt another one. I don't know what to do, and I need help."
Sarah bites her lip, then puts her hand on Van's shoulder.
"You really freaked me out back there…on the site. You saved my life…and I can't thank you enough…but I don't know what you did…and you've gotten yourself into a lot of trouble. You're a good guy, Van…but I can't be involved in…whatever it is you're in. Like I said before, you're too headstrong. You can't leap into situations headfirst like this. Slow down…"
"I CAN'T!" screams Van. "That building collapse recently? That was me! I messed up and killed a lot of people by mistake! All I do is think about it! All I do is remember the people…remember them crying. I did that, and I've been trying to fix it, over and over. I keep moving and moving and moving, gotta keep moving, because if I stop to think about what's happened, and what's going on, about what a failure I am, and what I've done…I don't think I'll be able to move anymore."
Van collapses into the park bench.
"Van…I wish I could help you…just know that you're not a bad person. If what you say is true…then I would do what I could to make the rest of my life worthwhile…good luck."
Sarah walks off, looking over her shoulder at Van as he once again puts his face into his hands.