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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Harlequin - 1. Chapter 1

The Harlequin

Chapter 1

 

accept your place

 

I floated on waves of pain and exhaustion. I didn’t know how long I had been here. A few hours? A few days? It didn't matter. Blood trickled down my chest. Which would I die from first, blood loss or thirst? The thought made me smile.

You always knew it would end this way. At least it's honorable. A Proud Death as Thorn would say. But he was dead. Like Mother Blessing and all the rest. It took all my training to stay conscious, but the blood loss made my head swim and I couldn't focus.

I raised my head and looked into his eyes, wondering if there was any remorse whatsoever. No, he was just doing his job. He was sitting, waiting patiently. -Your father was a smart man. He did what was right, what was reasonable. You could still go you know, lead a normal life and accept your place in the Vast Machine...- He droned on, but the blackness began to dance along the edges of my vision.

-I don’t have a…- Heavy, labored breaths felt like daggers to my lungs, and my head fell forward. I wanted to say more, much more, but it was too difficult.

He started to reply, surprised I had talked at all, but the blackness swirled, and I lost consciousness.

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At the disillusioned and the lost

 

The bump in the road reminded me to pay attention. I raised my head and looked at the faces around me. At the disillusioned and the lost. They didn't realize it yet, but they were waiting for something. I was struck by something Valkyrie often repeated over the years. -Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse…- I couldn't remember the rest.

The bus was nearing my stop, so I pulled the string above me. I held my bag in one hand, adjusted the sword case around my shoulder, and walked toward the front. Through the front window I saw my destination: The California Academy of Martial Arts.

The "Academy" was a small building in an outdoor mall wedged between a laundromat and a liquor store in a questionable part of the city. I entered through a side door as always, through the laundromat, past the several jumbo dryers to the back, down the hallway and to the right where the door connecting the two businesses was located. Open the door and you’re in the locker room. There were three others in the room, two busy changing at their lockers and one leaving as I entered. It was he who smiled and nodded at me. I mirrored his motions while heading to my locker. The others seemed busy in thought for which I was thankful. I placed my bag on the bench. Taking the sword from my shoulder, I took out some tighter fitting clothes and began to change.

Valkyrie would tell me that eyes project energy. If you concentrate, you can feel it. I felt it now, someone staring at me, their eyes creating a tingling sensation running down my spine. I thought back to who was in the locker room and realized that one of the men was somebody I had never seen before. He was roughly six feet away. Tall, maybe 6’2 with blonde hair and clear completion wearing a tight fitting red shirt and jean shorts. I pretended I didn't notice his watchful eyes. He wasn’t the Tabula. If he were, I’d be dead already. Possibly a mercenary; but I had been so careful! These thoughts and more raced through my head as I pulled up my sweats, and placed both my sword and bag in the locker. Centering myself, I calmly unzipped my bag and reached for the stiletto hidden in one of the pockets, careful to block my opponent’s view of what I was doing. I guessed the distance he stood from me and concentrated on my breathing.

I gripped the stiletto tight and spun around low to the right, sweep kicking my right foot. He fell to the floor. Instantly I was on top of him, pinning his hands above his head with my left hand and holding the knife at his throat with my right. The young man was shocked at being on the ground, and frightened when my knife pressed against his jugular. But I realized I was wrong. This wasn’t some hired mercenary. This was some college student who thought telling girls he practiced martial arts would get him laid. His wide hazel eyes and shrill cry made that obvious to me as well.

I scrambled off him, offering my hand accompanied by a -Sorry. A misunderstanding. You were staring. Sorry.- And a smile.

He looked from my hand to me, and back to my hand, then slowly reached out his own. I easily pulled him from the floor, smiled, and apologized again. This time he spoke.

-It’s...okay. I...was looking at your tattoo. I’m...I’m sorry I...scared you?

I laughed.

-You were staring. I thought... It doesn‘t matter.

-Okay...- he responded.

We stood there a few more seconds, each wondering if this awkward exchange was done with when the Sifu and owner of the Academy burst through the doors.

-What the hell is going on?

I spoke first.

-Sorry, sir. A simple misunderstanding.

Hazel Eyes to my left caught on.

-Yeah, my fault actually.- He slipped me a little smile. -Everything’s fine.-.

Sifu made eye contact with each of us before letting it go.

-Fine. Whatever. But I want both of you either changed and inside or gone in two minutes.- Sifu left the locker room then and went about his business.

I nodded apologetically once more at Hazel Eyes and followed Sifu through the hallway to the main room.

The place was as expected for a Wednesday night, nearly empty. Aside from Hazel Eyes who walked in less then a minute after me, Sifu, and the man who nodded hello at me, there were three other people here. The emptiness of the place was a main reason I come here.

As its namesake suggested, it was mainly a place for martial arts, but it had a separate smaller room for boxing. It was this room I always visited. I took my regular place at the punching bag.

Setting a timer for three hours and placing it on the floor, I pressed start with my foot.

Focus. First, I let all the mindless trivial happenings around me fade. The grunts of exertion typical of any martial arts facility evaporated. Focus. What had happened earlier in the locker room with Hazel Eyes and the Sifu, what happened earlier today, earlier in the week, it all left my mind. All that remained was the singular punching bag. I made fists of my hands and beat it into submission.

It seemed sudden, but the timer on the floor was going off telling me three hours had passed. Drenched with sweat, muscles aching so deep I would feel it tomorrow, I grabbed the timer and strolled to the showers. A quick rinse, a change of clothes, and with my stuff in hand, I left the Academy to head home.

Home was a shithole. Nothing more than a place to sleep where I wouldn’t have to worry about people trying to steal things, if only because there was nothing to steal. The studio apartment consisted of a futon and blanket in the living room, a coffee maker, microwave, mini-fridge and wooden table in the kitchen, plus, a large locker in the closet, doubling for whatever was needed.

I grabbed cigarettes and lighter from my bag with one hand and let everything else fall to the floor. After lighting up, I stashed the sword under the futon and headed toward the bathroom for a real shower.

The cool water flowed over me while events of the past few months played in my head. The deaths of Shepherd and Priest, moving to my own place, the disappearance of Maya and the twins. So much has happened. So much.

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The case that changes everything

 

Two weeks later I got voicemail about a job. It would be my first as a Harlequin, thus a basic one. Investigate and protect. Valkyrie’s message gave strict instructions, and following them at the precise time led me to a secure chatroom. Here we could generally type without worry of someone reading in, which allowed me to get more details about the job.

R4VEN

Toren

Toren

R4VEN

Toren

R4VEN

Toren

After I sent the last message and logged off I thought about what Valkyrie just said. A possible Traveler. Tabula’s knowledge of the Traveler. Killing Tabula operatives. This may be the case that changes everything. Valkyrie wasn’t known for exaggerations, so for her to state that the war could still be fought, and even won by this last job... was a sobering thought. There was no hesitation. I would do it. The thought of killing those in my way didn’t scare me either. I had been trained for this.

It took a total of 43 minutes to get the package’s location via email, grab my bag and sword, find various weapons stashed around the house in case of emergencies, and strip the apartment of everything traceable to me. All the personal belongings, the books, pictures, anything and everything that would have my fingerprints on them, or anything I wouldn’t need I put into a large black duffle bag. Weapons I put in the brown cotton and leather messenger bag I always carried with me, along with its standard contents: a disposable cell phone, laptop and other small necessities. Including the emergency bag in my truck, containing a few days’ worth of clothes, toiletries, and money, I was set.

43 minutes after signing off the computer I walked out of my apartment with a large black duffle bag in one hand, a messenger bag and sword crisscrossed over both shoulders, and keys in my other hand. I threw all but the sword in the back and drove several blocks to a 24-hour grocery store. Lighter fluid my only purchase, I was again on my way.

I drove to another part of the city after deciding I was far enough away to be untraceable, threw the duffle in a dumpster, poured the lighter fluid on it, and lit a match. Watching the flames burn away all the material things from this life inspired a sadness that I quelled nearly upon inception. I turned and left. Everything I’d owned after choosing this life was in that bag. Everything after Shepherd…but now, he and it were gone.

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Mr. Wizard! I need a doctor. Now!

 

It was 4:38 in the morning by the time I got to the address Valkyrie directed me to. First, I circled the block, checking out the place. Once satisfied it didn’t look like a trap, I parked half a block away from the house. I didn’t know a name, or have a picture, but according to my GPS and Valkyrie, this was where I was supposed to be. It wasn’t a particularly nice neighborhood, but a loud confrontation would alert someone and the police would be called. Not that they couldn’t be dealt with, but it would be an unwanted hassle.

I rummaged through my bag and found my taser just in case my guest didn’t want to come along willingly. Grabbing my sword, I headed straight toward the house.

It was a simple one story, with trees in the large front yard which I was thankful for. The low hanging tree branches blocked the light from the street lamps, which meant getting in without notice from onlookers would not be an issue. If someone were looking specifically at the door, I’d be seen, but to get in would only take a second, so that would not be a problem. I took a pin from my back pocket and kneeled at the front door. The lock was so old it was open in two seconds. The door opened on its’ own and I saw darkness. I darted through the front door and closed it firmly behind me.

The moment my eyes adjusted to the darkness I knew something was wrong. The place was a disaster. Broken glass and papers all over the floor. Tables and chairs strewn about the living and dining rooms. A little light came from the open refrigerator, which had all its contents dumped onto the floor. Trash was everywhere and so were pictures, books and files. And blood. It was faint, but a trail of it led from the kitchen down the hall. At least two people had been here tonight. Fuck...

Several long strides on the balls of my feet and I was moving silently down the hall, following the trail which disappeared at the only closed door. The bedroom.

There was no light coming from underneath the door, and I was certain that no one, if anyone was still here, had heard me. I gripped the doorknob and pushed it open.

The master bedroom resembled the rest of the house, disaster. But the blood was more apparent. Not just a trail of drops anymore, no, now it was a singular connected path that entered the bathroom. It was at this moment that I heard the distant sound of sirens. I gave myself 60 seconds to get out, and I knew this was going to be tight. No longer concerned with being quiet I ran to the bathroom door and yanked it open. I felt a very familiar feeling in my gut. That all was lost. 57.

A man was lying on his stomach. His right arm bent at an impossible angle and the shredded remains of a white shirt stained red. I had no time. I had to get the man, dead or not, out of the house now. As I lifted him over my shoulder and hauled ass through the broken bedroom window, I felt the faint beat of his heart against my shoulder. I made it through the backyard while his blood seeped into my shirt. 44.

I headed to the right and a wooden fence that separated his backyard from his neighbor’s blocked my path. Without looking over it first and summoning all my strength, I threw him to the other side. He landed with a thud, but it didn’t sound like he had been hurt any worse. I hopped over and returned him to my shoulder. The sirens were loud enough to be waking people now. I prayed none would look out their windows, especially the house I was passing on my right. I ran to the other side of this house and moved from the back yard to the front as fast as possible. 23.

Reaching my truck, I threw him in the bed and started the engine. 12. I didn't want to chance turning on the headlights until I was a few blocks away, but still drove as fast as possible down the street. 3. I turned right two blocks away, and in the rear view mirror I could see the flashing lights of the police as they pulled up to surround the house. I shrugged off the nerves from almost being caught and calmed myself down. The guy in the back, if he was still alive, would need a doctor. I dug through my bag, frantically searching for my phone.

I punched in one of the few numbers I knew by heart. It rang a few times, but I knew he would be awake. Once he picked up, I immediately yelled into the phone.

-Mr. Wizard! I need a doctor. Now!

The desperation in my voice surprised me, but at least he knew this was not a joke.

-Where you at?

-Hollywood. It’s really bad, now find me someone.

-Just a sec.

I could hear the typing of a keyboard over the phone, and I prayed there was someone good enough to take care of the man in the back. I slowed down to a reasonable speed and drove down random streets while waiting for an answer.

-Mr. Wizard!

-Hold the fuck on. Shit!

-God damn you!

-Got it.- There was a quick tap of the keyboard again, and then he said -8307 Fountain!-

I clicked the phone closed, pulled a fast u-turn, and headed to Fountain Avenue. 13 minutes later I was there. The truck screeched to a halt as I hit the breaks. I heard the body in the back slam against the cab. I opened the door and ran to him.

He was moaning. Whether the result of his previous injuries or my driving, I wasn’t certain, but at least he was alive. Once again I threw him over my shoulder, this time being mindful of his broken arm, and headed toward the house.

In the doorway was a woman motioning for me to hurry. I could barely tell what she looked like but her voice barked out the commands. -Put him on the table in there, then get the water on the stove.-

I got a better look at her when I was inside and saw she was in her mid-forties. Her long flowing dark hair had been tied in a ponytail, and her clothes signified that she had been awakened for this.

She held his head as I lay him on the table as gently as possible. She went into action, removing his clothes to assess the damage he’d sustained throughout the night, and I went to the kitchen to get the water.

When I came back he was naked, and she was still checking all of his injuries while muttering under her breath. I recognized the cuts on his chest which were clean, but thankfully not to deep. A sword did that. I had no time to dwell on the strangeness of those injuries when she blurted -Tequila. It’s in the fridge.-

I went straight for the kitchen again and grabbed the cold tequila as ordered. Walking back into the living room, for the first time that night, I felt the strain of hauling his body around Hollywood. Jesus, I’m tired.

The sound of his arm being popped back into its socket snapped me from my thoughts. Now a girl of 11 or 12 was busy with wrapping his head with gauze. I looked between them working over the naked, bloody man, and saw the familial resemblance. I stood awkwardly watching for a few moments before she turned to me.

-Go ahead. You look like you could use it.- She flashed me a quick smile before getting back to work, and I let out a small laugh Did I look that terrible? before sitting down on the couch, staring at the bottle in my hand. Can’t hurt I figured, and I raised the bottle to my lips.

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covered in dirt and blood

 

I felt someone pushing me, trying to get me to wake up. I fell asleep? The light streaming through the window blinds indicated it was late morning, possibly early afternoon. I sat up and looked at the girl who shook me awake. I had no recollection of falling asleep. As I wiped the sleep from my eyes, she told me that they were done. She then took the half empty bottle of tequila from my hand and gave it to the woman sitting in a chair to my left. The doctor who worked on the man, who I assumed to be the girl’s mother, took it from her with a -Thank you, Sonora- and took an impressive swig from the bottle.

-How is he?

She gave me a tired smile, and told Sonora to go get some sleep and to forget about school today. Her face lit up, and headed to her bedroom.

-He’ll live. In pain for a while, but he’ll live.

-Thank you.

-It’s my job.

-I’m sorry I’ve kept her from going to school today. But tell her we both are very thankful.

She smiled. -She’ll like that...- Her eyes twinkled before she said -Now as for payment...-

I looked into her eyes for a moment before responding. -I can’t pay you...-

She cut me off -I was under the impression that I would be paid. I did not do all that work to not be paid.-

This time I let my voice rise -And you will be!- I calmed down for a second. -But I can’t right at this moment.-

Her eyes flared with an intense anger before I continued. -But I promise on my honor. You will be.-

She stared at me for a moment before she decided to let it go with a disgusted flick of her hands.

-Okay, okay, fine...whatever.- She took a deep breath before continuing. -I guess I’m just so wired from working on him.- At “him” she jerked her head towards the naked, bandaged man asleep on the table.

-I understand.

I hadn’t had time to get a good look at the man last night; a combination of darkness, exhaustion, and his being blood-soaked had obscured his looks, but as soon as my eyes rested on him I froze. Even with half his face wrapped in bandages, I still recognized him: Hazel Eyes.

I turned from him and spoke to the doctor -I’ll be right back.- and headed toward the door.

-Not like that you’re not.

Glancing at myself, I conceded her point. My clothes were beyond rumpled and dirty, they were covered in dirt and blood, and a number of other things they had encountered during the night.

-Um...- I began.

-I’ll get what you need from your truck while you take a shower, cause God knows you stink.- I laughed. -The both of you can have some of my son’s clothes if you want.-

I gave her my keys, letting her know I had some clothes in my bags. -There are two of them, plus a long cylindrical case. Can you get all that?-

-Got it.- She turned and headed for the door. -The shower’s over there.- she added, flicking a hand toward the hallway on my right as she walked out the door.

The shower was wonderful. The nearly scalding water caressed my body and eased the tension in my shoulders, legs, and back. I noted the wall clock read ten till 11:00. I had slept for about four-and-a-half hours, and while my body still ached from the night’s stress, my mind was clear.

Sometime during my shower, the still unnamed doctor had placed a towel on the back of the door, along with both bags and my sword. Did she...

I toweled off, changed, and met her in the living room.

-Thanks for the towel. I didn’t think about it before I got in.-

-Don’t worry about it. You didn’t hear me when I opened the door. You...seemed to really be enjoying yourself.- She smiled coyly, looking me up and down.

My face felt hot, but I recovered. -Yeah, well ... it was a long day.-

Her eyebrows perked up, and I knew this was not going to be a subject easily dismissed, but I did my best to move on.

-Anyway, how is he?

She was disappointed by the subject change but took the hint. -He shouldn’t be moved for a few days, but he’ll be awake by late this evening or tomorrow morning.-

-Is that ok? Us staying here for that long?

-Well as long as I’m…compensated accordingly...- She let her voice trail off, the implication hanging in the air for a moment before I said:

-I have enough money to compensate you, don’t worry.- I hoped she would take the hint, but this time I wasn’t that lucky.

-That’s not...

I cut her off -I know what you were referring to, but that is not how a Harlequin does business.-

She shrunk back and cast her eyes downward, embarrassed. Tending to her wounded pride not my concern, I continued.

-Now I have some other business to attend to. Keys?- It was not a question. She handed them over, eyes still lowered as she retreated to her bedroom. I left the house and drove around Hollywood wondering about what my next move would be and how best to find another place to stay.

I had done nothing noteworthy before heading back to the doctor’s house early in the evening, hoping all that foolishness was behind us.

The smell was the first thing I noticed while approaching the door, and it was definitely more pronounced as I crossed the threshold. Homemade Indian. Lining the walls from the living room to kitchen, scented candles had been lit, and she called from her place at the stove -You’re back!-

As she left the stove unattended and approached me, I regretted ever having come here. She was completely done up. No longer in a ponytail, her hair was slightly teased and resting just above her breasts. She wore an elegant black dress, high heels, and light make up. Though I considered her a beautiful woman, her charms wouldn’t work on me. For reasons I would have thought obvious, but some people were a little slow.

-I wanted to apologize for earlier today. I was horribly mistaken and I apologize. Truly.- She flashed me a coy yet innocent look before she pouted, saying -Do you forgive me?-

I hesitated, then said calmly -There is no need. It’s forgotten.-

She clapped her hands together gleefully and raced to give me a hug. Throwing her arms around my neck and simultaneously drawing my head into her breasts, she repeatedly thanked me for forgiving her. Really? This is sad. But then she bounded back into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder

-Sonora’s having a sleepover with a friend, so it’s just us tonight.- She paused for a second before adding -and him.-

-Yes, about him. I apologize, but we actually need to be going.

Her face lost all of its playful flirting but I continued -We have some private business to attend to and it was my mistake to stay in one place for so long. I apologize.-

Before she said anything else, I turned away to retrieve my things from the bathroom. My sword was hanging on a towel rack on the back of the door and I felt a surge of relief. I should not have left you here. It will not happen again. I picked it up with care and grabbed the bags hanging next to it, moving all into the living room. The doctor had retreated into her bedroom and closed the door. The light shining under it revealed she was pacing. I went about my business, hastily using my own clothes to dress the still unconscious, naked man on the living room coffee table. I then put him in the truck and left.

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The world is fucked.

 

I headed toward Sunset, knowing several by-the-hour motels, each having a reputation for not seeing its patrons and or the nature of their business. I drove to the one we were farthest from, a small squat building covered in ivy at the end of a long driveway.

Hazel Eyes was lying down in the bed of the truck, and I figured he would be fine alone for a few minutes.

The inside was as expected. A homeless person was either asleep or dead in a chair in the corner, and a fat balding man sat behind the counter, his back to me.

-How much for three days with no one to bother me?

Judging by his reaction, this was a common request, as he didn’t even turn around. The rolls of fat in the back of his head jiggled as he spoke, and I found it difficult to concentrate.

-How much you got?-

Ugh. -Here’s $500.- I said, placing the money on the counter. -I’m paying for three days, to be left alone. And I want the room at the very end of the hall on the second floor. The room was the best defensively. It had the best view of people coming and going, both those from the street and people at the motel, and, it was easy to escape from in a hurry.

Impressively, he handled the complete transaction without taking his eyes off the TV game or saying a word. Took my money, put it away, threw a key on the counter. Simple.

Just before I left I glanced at the key rack behind the counter. There were sixteen rooms, and we had room one. Besides my key, there was one other key missing. Looking at the four cars in the parking lot and noting two of them cost well over 100 grand, I wondered which door would reveal an affair underway.

Hauling Hazel Eyes from the truck, we made our way to the room. He had improved and seemed to have some awareness of his surroundings. At this point, he was barely moving his feet, but we made our way. I guided him up the stairs to our room. Though improved, he looked dead. I was reminded of a terrible movie from the 80’s but thought left my head as quickly as it entered after I guided him gently to bed.

He moaned in pain, his eyes fluttering for a moment, rolled over and was quiet. I figured he was fine. I placed the sword on the floor and went to find some clean sheets I would use to sleep on the floor. Six minutes later I was back, with not only sheets, but an escape route and some chips in case Hazel Eyes got hungry.

I took an unhurried look at him. He appeared angelic, lying in bed as he did. After rejecting fleeting improper thoughts from my mind, I booted up my laptop. By now Valkyrie would have heard news about the house she’d sent me and would be wondering what went wrong.

It took an over an hour to find her online, but once I did, she led me to another secure chatroom.

R4VEN

Toren

I didn’t get an immediate reply. She fucked me.

R4VEN

Toren

Another pause. Longer this time. Fuck.

R4VEN

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Toren

I logged off right then, in case she was attempting to track me. I had been in the chatroom for less than 30 seconds so chances of her finding me were slim. Still, I felt uneasy with the possibility that Valkyrie, my mentor, had betrayed me and the Resistance, and almost got me killed in the process. How long has she been in the pockets of the Tabula? Shepherd. Valkyrie. Who else? The room suddenly felt very small, and I felt a tightening in my chest. My breathing became labored, and I felt panicky, twitchy. Air. I need air.

I stumbled toward the door and hastily yanked it open, but the moment I stepped outside I felt better. The effects of that brief episode still lingered, but diminished now that I was outside. I stood on the balcony calming myself for 10 more minutes, until confident I was okay. Having memorized the license plate of each car in the parking lot, I returned to the room to change for a run.

Running always helped. It focused my thoughts. Focused me. My mind moved quickly through the occurrences of the last 48 hours. First, going though it all, remembering everything that had taken place. Then, assigning rankings of importance, noting questions that need asking, listing possible complications, and finally, cataloging them so I wouldn’t be bogged down by things that didn’t matter.

In the time it had taken me to be satisfied with my progress, I had run full sprint about three miles in 14 minutes. I turned around and headed back to the motel feeling better than I had in days.

When I entered the room, Hazel Eyes was stirring from his sleep. I grabbed a stiletto from my bag just in case it was needed, then waited for him to wake.

It was interesting watching the process. His eyes were barely open, but I could tell the moment when he realized he wasn’t in his house anymore, as well as the moment he remembered the attack of two nights ago. He nearly jumped up out of bed with that one. Then the pain must have hit because he wobbled, and I reached out to steady him.

-Sit down. You’re hurt.- He looked up at me with big dazed eyes, and I guided him back to the bed.

-I know this is a lot to process right now, but I need to change your bandages. Are you okay with that?

He seemed pretty out of it but was able to produce a slight nod. I worked quickly, stripping him of his shirt, and changed the bandages that wrapped around his chest as painlessly as I could. The entire time I felt his eyes on me, so much so that a shiver ran up and down my spine. When I had finished, he looked down and absently rubbed his arm. He was more aware of himself now, and he cleared his throat before he spoke.

-Why did you kidnap me?

I looked at him and resisted the urge to laugh. -I did not kidnap you, and I did not hurt you. I rescued you from certain death.-

His eyes narrowed with distrust. I opened my mouth to continue before I realized I had no idea where to start. I looked down at the floor for a moment, before beginning. -Do you remember what happened to you two nights ago? The attack?-

He grimaced and wouldn’t look at me. He met my eyes when he realized I was waiting for an answer, and he nodded. -Well that was partially my fault. I didn’t get there in time and I’m sorry.-

He looked confused.

-Look. This is all pretty new to me so I’m not even sure where to start…

He still looked confused.

 

-…Y-You’re different from most people…

His face contorted into a what the fuck? look, and I thought he might try to walk out of the room. Instead, he stared, disbelief and mistrust clearly evident on his face. I knew this may be too much for one night, but he had a right to know why his life would never be the same. I started again. -You can read people. I don’t know how it works, but you just...understand people better than anyone else.- I paused. Oh, don’t fuck this up.

-The world is fucked. The increasing terrorist attacks, countries collapsing left and right. Civilians are greedy and vain and blind. They have become the walking dead, complacent. Something is deeply wrong with the world, but you already know that.-

-There is a very small group of people who have abilities like you do. They are Travelers. They know what is wrong with the world, but they also know something much more powerful: they know how to fix it. Because you understand people, how they think and work and live, you can convince them to see light. Then there are people like me: Harlequins. We have pledged their lives to protect Travelers.-

I took a deep breath and went on. -You are a revolutionary. And the world needs is a permanent revolution. I am here to protect you so your message can be delivered.-

He cleared his throat before he spoke. -You sound like I’m the next...Jesus or something.-

I held my tongue. Jesus was definitely a Traveler and Peter his Harlequin. It was useless though, because he read me and knew what I held back.

-Are you fucking kidding me?- He got up from the bed and tried to head for the door. -This is insane and I’m going home.-

I pulled him from the door and held him still. He struggled, found that it was useless and stopped. I put my lips to his ears and spoke.

-I have trained my entire life for this. It is the truth, whether you like it or not, and there is nothing that can be done about it. My only mission is to see that you are safe, and to protect you from anything, including yourself. If you pick a fight with me you will lose.- I loosened my grip on him then let him go.

He seemed to hate me. That was fine. I could take it. But as long as his distaste for me is obvious, I might as well provide him a reason. -I would prefer if we didn’t hate each other, as we’ll be together for a while, but there are a few other things you need to know. Your old life is dead. You cannot contact anyone, not your family or friends. I‘ll get you a new identity soon, so that won‘t be a problem. And one of the most powerful organizations on the planet wants to either kill you or turn you. So,- I said with a shrug -there’s that.-

The entire time I spoke he didn’t look at me, but I knew he was listening. I figured that was enough to lay on him for the moment. I glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table, it read 8:52 pm. We stayed like that, in complete silence for over an hour, until his stomach made a loud, disgusting gurgling noise. -Hungry?- I asked. He didn't say a word, but nodded affirmatively, so we went in search of food.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cause I’m like Jesus?

 

I remembered the location of a small diner in Silverlake, where not only was the food adequate, but more importantly, they let me smoke inside. We arrived there in 20 minutes.

I requested the table in the back, the one with a view of the door and the street. We were seated by our waitress, a woman in her 30’s with dyed blonde hair and no eyebrows. She tried hard to disguise her hobble. Waiting tables ten hours a day in bad shoes could do that, would do that to a person, but she seated us without complaint, gave us menus and left.

I was looking across the table at Hazel Eyes when something occurred to me.

-I don’t know your name!-

He was startled by my sudden outburst, but with a faint smile on his lips, he said -Harlow. Harlow Evans. You?-

-Roland.

-Roland...- He said my name again to himself, testing out the foreign word on his tongue. -That’s not your real name, is it?-

I was offended, but let it pass with simply -That is not the name I was born with, but it is my real name.-

He must have heard the very slight warning in my voice because he said nothing else until we got our food.

After our food arrived, breaking our silence, he asked -Roland, how old are you?-

The question caught me off guard, but I swallowed and answered. He nearly choked on his food.

-You’re only 20! I...I thought you were older than me...

-You’re what...23? 24 maybe?

He nodded. -23, yeah. So you’re 20, almost 21, your name is Roland, and you’re gay.-

He said it like it was an afterthought, and while I never had problems accepting my sexuality, it was quite different to speak of such things so cavalierly. I met his eyes again. -Yes. As are you.-

He nodded. Now that that was out of the way and we were nearly done with our food, I anticipated he was going to start in on the questions he really wanted answered, but I stopped them before they started.

-I know you want to continue our discussion from earlier, but I ask you to refrain from talking about it until we’re somewhere more private.-

He looked around. The diner was a small place and anyone who wanted to could listen in. He nodded his agreement.

I took a cigarette from my bag, offering him one but he declined. I guess we had nothing to say to each other. I finished my cigarette while he picked at his food. Then I paid the bill, and we headed back to the motel. He must have spent the entire ride back thinking of questions because they started as soon as I shut the door.

-Okay. So I have this ability or something and I just...- he searched for the right word -get people,- without success -and because of it, some corporation wants me dead? Cause I’m like Jesus?-

I felt anger building up inside of me, low, deep in my gut, but I killed it as soon as I felt it.

-This is not some corporation, Harlow. This is The Evergreen Foundation. Otherwise known as Tabula Rasa.- I stood in front of the bed. He was sitting cross-legged with his back against the headboard, and I knew this would take a while. I paced back and forth, trying to arrive at the best way to tell him what he needed to know about The Foundation, about Travelers and Harlequins. I grabbed another cigarette when I suddenly realized the right way to tell him. The answer was surprising, even to me, but I knew it was right. I glanced at the clock. 11:45 pm. I wondered what the time would be when I finished. I took a breath, and got underway.

-My father’s name was Shepherd...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The end.

 

Slap. My eyes blurred and for a second I saw nothing. All my senses had dulled, and I felt very, very tired. The slap to my face was nothing more than a reminder that I would be dead soon, because I didn’t even feel it. The brief moment of disorientation passed, and I tried to focus my eyes. I must have been moved when I passed out because this room was larger. It was intensely white and so brightly lit it was difficult to see, but I made out two people in the corner. A woman, blonde, wearing a pointedly masculine black suit, and an older man with sunglasses with the posture of ex-military. The man in front of me was yelling.

-...your answer?

I said nothing. They wanted me to tell them where to find Harlow. They had tortured me for a week? a month? but still I did not speak. As if I knew. But even if I did know, I wouldn’t have told them. A Proud Death.

-After this there is no going back.- He lifted the gun he’d been holding at his side, and aimed at my chest. He swallowed. His arm was shaking, almost imperceptibly, but it was plain enough to him and to me. -If you do not tell me their location in three seconds, I will kill you.-

He counted down. From three to two to one to zero and still I said nothing. I stared at the man, looking him in the eye. For a split second I felt regret, not about choices I had made or the way I lived my life, but that this pathetic, effete, coward who stood before me would be the one to kill me. He did not deserve the honor. But a Proud Death it still will be. The man’s eyes opened wide in horror for a brief second, and he closed his eyes He actually fucking closed his eyes? and shot me in the chest.

They walked out of the room. I didn’t feel anger, nor regret, nor pain. All I felt in my last moments was a deep sense of hope that I had helped bring change to the world. Real, substantive change. In the end there was only that, and then, nothing.

Review it, Like it, Rep it, Star it!
Edit: 12/04/2012: Woah, it's been a long while, and I just noticed that the chatroom dialogue was missing due to a formatting issue! Wow. A whole plot point, gone in an instant. Chapter 2 will be coming when I find a reliable editor. Its been done for over a year there's no one is willing to take a look at it, and follow through on their promises to get it back to me. Sigh. Soon though. Soon.
Copyright © 2012 ashessnow; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Shit. An explosive beginning and end and an exciting story in between. If this is a taste of things to come then I can't wait to read the rest.

 

Of course this could stand as a story in it's own right but i am definitely hoping there is going to be more

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Shot. The hook, characters, beginning and mid story were suspensefully deliteful to read. The aim of any storyteller is not to simply tell a story, but to make sure the reader lives that story. In other words, the journey is nb and i am looking forward to the next destination.

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