It was a rainy Thursday of late July. The whole world seemed like it was moving sluggishly as it sloshed through the mini lakes of dirty water on the sidewalks and roads. It was barely noon and the weather was drowning some roads and bringing a good chunk of foot traffic to a halt. The fat drops hit the windows of Jeremy's apartment relentlessly, causing Payton to turn up the TV volume slightly so he can hear the news.
Jeremy was leaning against the counter of the kitchen waiting for his and Payton's microwave lasagna to hurry up. He wasn't really paying attention to the news or anything else other than his own thoughts.
He felt dirty. His nightmares weren't getting any less painful, and he was having a least once a week. Naps at work were now dancing on thin ice due to the fear of being tormented in his dreams. Payton had stopped seeing if he was alright if he happened to scream himself awake now, but Jeremy knew he was worried. He offered to help Jeremy pay for a therapist, but Jeremy refused- Payton shouldn't have to spend money on him. Plus the whole gang member who helps kill people isn't something he wants to open up to a stranger about.
Not to mention that after that one night with Ben where he lost his stomach contents after a particularly nasty dream, he had always felt a bit of queasiness lingering within him every time Ben invited him over. Of course, alcohol made everything pleasant for a few hours, but lying awake in the darkness after Ben had fallen asleep and their clothes were scattered on the floor made Jeremy feel filthy. His body and mind were getting dirtied day by day, yet Jeremy could never find a way to stop. How disgusting.
Jeremy's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Payton gasping. Jeremy only saw the back of his head, but he knew Payton had the look of fear and was even trembling a little.
"Uh… you OK, four eyes?" Jeremy asked as he took a few steps closer to the couch.
"T-That kid, o-o-on the n-news," Payton stammered, "I-I know t-that last name! Mediano… t-that's the kid w-w-who ripped o-off M-M-Mangle's mask a-and made h-her go c-crazy. S-Shit, Fransisco's g-gonna get f-framed for it, I-I-I know i-it!"
If it made Payton swear, it definitely was serious.
"What are you…" Jeremy muttered as he saw what Payton was watching on TV. It was a news reporter with heavy eye makeup talking directly to the camera. She looked grim and serious, so she certainly wasn't talking about some inspiring story of local courage or a funny new Internet craze.
"...Police are still investigating the home to try to find any possible evidence that could help find the boy, however there has been zero leads as of now," the news anchor spoke solemnly, "The parents say they are willing to pay large rewards to anybody who can successfully help locate the whereabouts of their son."
An image of a young Hispanic boy, no older than ten or eleven, popped up on the screen while the news anchor was still talking. Accompanying the image was the caption that read, "Julien Granado Mediano, age 11, last seen 07/29 at 10:48 pm." There was also a phone number at the bottom of the screen, which Jeremy recognized as the number to the police station.
Before Jeremy could ask Payton about why they'd blame Fransisco, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Jeremy took it out and saw it was Fritz. For once, he wasn't reluctant to pick it up to hear her loud rambles. He set his phone on speaker mode.
"Hey," Jeremy said.
"Hey, you hear the news?" Fritz replied. She sounded worried. "Things have been mad crazy here."
"Wait, wait, what's going on?"
"The Medianos were just here, accusing Fransisco and Mangle of kidnapping their child. Geez, I've never heard Fransisco yell that loudly. The Medianos already have bad blood with us after their brat caused Mangle to go insane. I can kinda see why they'd accuse us, but this can be very bad. Gang wars are crazy stuff, man."
"You think either of them really did it? I didn't think Mangle can even go outside in her condition."
"I dunno, but it is a pretty big coincidence that it's the same kid that made her got bat shit crazy. But I don't think she could get there in one night without someone noticing. She's over six feet tall and wears a bunch of jewelery- someone would've had to have seen her. And Fransisco would never go to do such a deed himself; he'd get some of us to do it for him."
"True. You still at work?"
"Yeah. Damn, this is too weird to be- shit, my phone's about to die. I should've left the building by now, and Fransisco's gonna kill me for loitering if he catches me now. See you soon."
Fritz hung up immediately after she stopped talking. Jeremy felt a sense of dread fill him after hearing the news. Payton was now turned around from his position on the couch and looking up at Jeremy. He looked just as worried as Jeremy was.
The microwave dinged with completion. The rain continued to pour outside. The news anchor had moved to a new story by now.
Fransisco raked his fingers through his greasy pulled back hair. A mixture of anxiety and rage fueled his body as he paced frantically behind his desk. One little brat went missing and now the Medianos want his head and it hasn't even been a day. It Fransisco wasn't trying to cause more trouble than he was already in he'd fist fight both of them on the spot.
Ben and Purple were also in the office, Ben leaning on the bookshelf while Purple sat in one of the chairs. Both looked too afraid to say anything to Fransisco without being directly spoken to- something either of them barely ever feel. The three men were all waiting for Cheyenne to return with Maggie.
"How dare those idiots accuse me of such vile acts!" Fransisco groused as he paced, "I was their closest friend not too long ago. How dare they come into my building and accuse me of murder."
"Some people have no manners or awareness of how to be civil," Ben said under his breath.
Fransisco stopped pacing and slammed his fist on the nearby wall. "I'm a lot of things, like a murderer and a crime lord, but I would never lay my hands on a child to hurt them!" he yelled, "They want to tell the police about their deranged accusations, they better be ready for a war. Nobody tries to bite the Fonseco gang and walk out with their teeth still in their mouth!"
Ben focused his mind on something else in the room, as it was obvious talking with Fransisco made things worse. Purple was staying absolutely silent, instead just staring as the floor between his slightly spread legs.
Before Fransisco could start smashing things, Cheyenne returned with Maggie, holding the taller woman's hand as she led her inside. Maggie looked concerned, probably from overhearing Fransisco's raging from the halls. Cheyenne stayed close by her to help keep her calm. Purple raised his head to look at Maggie when she entered. Fransisco also calmed down to avoid upsetting Maggie too much due to her fragile psychological state.
"Hello, Fransisco," Maggie said, smiling wide. Cheyenne glared at Fransisco as a warning to keep down his temper. Blowing up at Maggie would not end well for any of them.
"Hello, Mang... Maggie," Fransisco replied with forced calmness, "How are you doing?"
"Oh, just splendid~! Though I heard something terrible happened, and you need to speak with me. Cheyenne told me."
"Yes, I did want to speak to you, mi querido. Now, Purple said he was visiting you last night. Is this true?"
"Why yes, he did. He brought over the most delicious sponge cake from the store and we watched I Love Lucy. It was such a grand time~"
Fransisco nodded as Maggie spoke, match her story up with Purple's alibi. "And do you know how long he stayed?" he inquired.
"Oh, I don't know. Until about midnight, maybe twelve-thirty. Time flies when you're having fun~" Maggie replied.
"It does. What did you do after that?"
"I cleaned up the kitchen and went to bed early to get my beauty rest."
"You didn't leave at all after Purple left?"
"Oh no, I was much too indecent to go out in public at that hour."
"Uh huh…" Fransisco said, then turned to Purple, "And you. You just went straight back to your apartment, yes? You've been quiet today."
"I tol' you I did," Purple defended, standing up so he can properly stand his ground, "Check th' security cameras if you hafta. I'm your mos' trusted friend, you said it yourself! Would I lie to you?!"
Everyone was quiet for a little while. Maggie jumped at Purple's snapping, in which Cheyenne held her arm tightly to keep her stable. Fransisco looked down at his desk and sighed. "No... I know you wouldn't," he said, "Everyone is dismissed. But keep quiet about this, and don't let no police search this place or Maggie's place. I'll deal with them later. We're on high alert for any suspicious activity."
Everyone in the room left in silence and headed for the apartment building. Ben lingered a bit longer than the others to wish Fransisco a good day and ask if he was okay, to which Fransisco assured him he was. Ben noticed Cheyenne lean against the wall outside of Maggie's apartment and drag her hands down her face. He went to go meet up with her.
"How are you doing?" Ben asked when he approached Cheyenne.
"Stressed as hell," Cheyenne replied, "You?"
"A bit uneasy, to be honest."
"I hope this is jus' a misunderstandin'. I don't wanna get into a gang war over this."
"We can't risk that. We don't nearly have enough manpower nor control as of now. Countless lives would be lost."
"Maybe it'll blow over soon. I won't let 'em hurt Maggie."
Ben nodded and decided to lean against the wall next to Cheyenne, but not too close so she'd give him a death stare. "It's silly, but could it be possible I'm a sleep murderer?" Ben said.
Cheyenne gave him the strangest and most confused look she could. "What?" she said with a raised eyebrow.
"I know, it's foolish. But I a little while ago I had these vivid dreams, yet they're a bit blurry on whether it was real or not."
"Explain."
"Well, I'd wake up, fully-clothed, and I'd go down to the building's basement with bread or water. I'd see these deformed… people, I think, and I remember feeling very disgusted going down there. One had purple hair and no face who I despised the most."
Cheyenne said nothing for several seconds before snickering. "That's it, you're crazy," she said sarcastically, "I'll get you to a mental ward. You're an official sleep murderer."
"See, I told you it was silly. We don't even have a basement in that building."
"Maybe you found a passage to Narnia. But I think I've dreamt about going into a cellar too. Some creature spit in my face or somethin' like that."
"Perhaps our minds are linked through our dreams. We're closer than you'd like, eh?"
"You're full of shit."
Ben chuckled and bid good day to Cheyenne before he headed for the stairwell to go to his home. How strange was it that he and Cheyenne only seemed to get along in serious times.