AN/ So I'm not sure how to put this, but I do aplologize for the wait. Life comes up and then you have to catch up. But don't worry, I have no intention on leaving this behind. This chapter didn't want to be written, so it may come out draggish. It'll seem angry, because well, it is. Anyways, tell me what you think and all that funk :3
Part V
The rest of the month skipped by without much regret, it was now October and Lorelei was nowhere to be found, much to Ahzrukhal's disbelief. She never strayed away for more than three weeks. As he moved through Underworld he kept jerking at every corner, every misplaced sound, as if she would be there with that ever-seductive expression gracing her Pin Up face. He could practically see it, she would just saunter in like always, clad in a risque outfit she had picked up from the city ruins, her lips twisted in that thoughtful poisonous smirk. Her eyes hiding the real blistering evil in her core, and that walk she had. Ahzrukhal took a moment, staring off across the bar, his hands held neatly behind his back, the skin that was left felt clammy. He was nervous, jittery even. Worried perhaps. And all for what? A smoothskin.
He heard the gossip and payed no mind, that something had happened to her, even Three-Dog, that fool on the radio had lost any details of her deeds. The only way the barkeeper could actually keep up with her when she was away. Honestly, he was worried, where could she have gone? "Ahz.. rukhal.." A sloshy drunk voice spoke up, breaking his intense concentration. He looked to the Ghoul in front of the counter, an envelope loose in his grip. "What is this Patches?" He couldn't fathom a mail system even existing these days, who had the guts to do something like this? "It's from.. from Quinn's friend.. he dropped it off, from Lorelei.." Patches smiled, his teeth missing in places, he looked so drunk and out of it. But he knew that name was the magic word to the barkeep. Without hesitation, Ahzrukhal took the envelope and nearly tore it in two trying to get the well-penned letter out.
It took a moment for him to read it, he wasn't used to written text.
Ahzrukhal,
I hope this reached you well. I thought I'd let you know I gave a group of Ghoulies directions with the safest route to Underworld, at least five or six new customers. I hope you can keep up with them, they're alcoholics, and I think one has a Jet problem worse than Snowflake. Also, I might have a dealer for Ultra Jet, he's a sweetheart, I'm considering escorting him and his 'Guard' to Underworld for a big meeting to get acquainted. It's up to you. Oh, and I have a new battle scar, you'll love it.
P.S. Tell Charon I said hello~
Adoringly, Lorelei
He nearly screamed. Not a single hint as to where she was, nor any way he could contact her if need be. His eyes wandered as he put it away in his breast pocket, setting Patches up with something to drink. He couldn't believe it, was he seriously this irked? Was he mad? Jealous even? And how do scars even pertain to anything? Damn, he thought, women have changed since the War. Seriously, what even connected all of this in her head? Was she messing with him? He couldn't take it, he lit up a cigar despite himself and continued working, relaxing as he drew in the Nicotine. Obviously he was over thinking this. The barkeep heard breathing and he looked up to see that damn bodygaurd of his, standing in the corner. Breathing. His fucking breathing. Ahzrukhal took a heavy huff of his cigar with his hands on the counter as he pondered his thoughts. He looked away to the radio, letting the puff drape from his nostrils, one of her favorite songs coming on. How could she even think of that man, that Ghoul, why hadn't she just written him a letter. No, of course being a woman she made him the delivery boy. Being the little tick she was, just pinching his flesh and digging in deeper. Ahzrukhal tried listening to the song, the words, trying to calm his temper.
His godammn breathing, fucking Charon. Ahzrhukhal realized he was dangerously close to the filter in his cigar and stubbed it out and wioed his clammy palms on his pants. After taking a quick look see of inventory, he took to pouring a glass of Vodka for himself. Another night he was going to have to drink himself into a stupor. Another night of forceful forgetting about a woman he couldn't have. Damn. His breathing. Ahzrukhal sighed, forcing it all away. He could hear Lorelei now, calling that gargantuan man in the corner by pet names. Flirting. And then, like always, turn to back to the barkeep and tease. There was no flirting involved, ever. Never would he consider it something it wasn't even close to. Apparently, he wasn't even in the same league, which seemed impossible. Damn if I had skin.. His brows furrowed together, his body heating, the warmth stinging at his skin. His breathing again.. He took a swing of the stinging liquid, canceling out the annoyance of that damned sound in the corner of his bar.
Fuck. Smoothskins, no scratch that, just one. Just Lorelei. Ahzrukhal let his hand creep along his chin, he felt tense, he needed to relax. It wasn't always like this he knew. He had never really been jealous, never truly. He had seen it, eat people up inside. He swore he wouldn't turn into that. He never swore though, that he wouldn't become an evil vindictive scum bag. And that, was what he truly prided himself over. But now, he wasn't so sure. This burning, it was eating him alive, and he was becoming a slave to it. But what else could he do? He couldn't get piss drunk and OD. That's just shameful and low class. After all, there is no need for a permanent solution to a temporary problem. And just as Ahzrukhal had finally brought his head back to level, that breathing again.
He quelled his conscience soon enough, taking smoke breaks and swigs as necessary until he found himself outside that night. He wasn't drunk, not really. He was mildly clear headed as he looked to the moon. It was a wonder that it's the same moon he had seduced so many women under 200 years ago. They all thought it was romantic and sweet, and it could only be true love. He had known all of the tricks to the trade. Well, before the War, these days, he wasn't so sure. Needs and desires were completely backwards now, weren't they? The clouds blotted the moon for a few moments, a shining gray that made him smile and his mind wander. The damn smoothskin made her way back into his head, he could practically see her. Approaching him and taking his cigar from his lips, taking a puff and blowing a kiss before leaving with it.
Had he not been hallucinating since his initial Ghoulification, he would have suspected that she was really there. His brain must have reacted differently to the radiation. He had always been a tad bit paranoid, but since that wall of change passed, it was an unsurmountable craze. He didn't mind it at first. But that was before Lorelei, his subconsciouss had a sense of humor, showing him what he waned, what he couldn't have. Ahzrukhal shook his head, in an effort to clear hit thoughts. He tossed the burnt out butt of the cigar and stood, dusting off his slacks. Another night, marked by the presence of his image of the graceful evil. Lorelei. He opened the door, silently hoping, in the depths of his mind, that she might actually be his one day.