Post by Raenius on Oct 5, 2009 10:18:34 GMT -5
The very night itself is pallid with nauseous anxiety over what’s to come. She looks at me through her cataract eyes, brought low and rubbed raw by decadence, depravity and denial. Staring at me as if begging for release or for cure. Neither of which I have any interest in providing.
I look back at my wife, who insisted on driving me to this place because I can’t be trusted. Suits me. A hip flask full of Jack the remnants of a bottle of absinthe made the journey go faster. Kathryn looks over at me, nodding, knowing full well what we think of each other and never needing to utter it. I know that she loves me, regardless of my mental state, and she knows that I’ll love her until the last angel is cold and broken.
Touching the window before I turn, I breathe deeply. I look down at the floor of the car park where tiny pieces of broken glass glitter in the moonlight and look up to see the new window shimmering with Erik standing behind it. Time to get the ball rolling. Calmly, I walk up the stairs, completely in the dark as to why the Christ I’m here, but curious none the less. Never before has my presence been requested in such a tone of voice - with such trepidation. …Or Russian, true as true.
Gliding past security, I almost want them to try to stop me or ask for ID or some kind of horseshit. But none of them do. None of them can look me in the eye.
La Boheme plays softly from the CD player behind Erik. Something that inspires more emotion within me than most things. But, at his desk, Dirge sits with a look on his face that isn’t pain. Not physical discomfort, but something else…
‘Still alive are we, hmm?’ I ask, trying to begin an inane conversation to ease his tension. He fails to reply, instead sliding a folder across his desk towards Erik who lifts it and brings it over to me. Must be nice to have this kind of butler service.
Reading what’s held within the pages, my world sours and darkens.
‘Are you fucking sure about this?’ I say, looking up. More of a rhetorical question than anything else, being that the private investigators that work for Dirge’s firm are top class. ‘Christ…’
~
Ever since I took the job of managing Raenius, my headaches have increased in intensity and regularity.
The computer screen laughs at me through its lunatic, epileptic eye as I type out my report for the Order. Mr Worthington likes to be kept appraised of the comings and goings of those that occupy the House of Red. And the Red Knight, Raenius, is a tough one to track most of the time.
Checking my Iphone, I see that I have a new email. And after I open it, it opens my mind to the possibilities and consequences of what’s held inside it.
‘Shit!’ I spit, jumping out of my chair and grabbing my car keys.
~
My agony subsides. My howling stops. The chains slide from my talons and my teeth sharpen. The weakling put my face back on.
Dirge. Boy, do I love that guy.
‘Still alive, eh?’ I say. I’m sarcastic that way. ‘Class.’
My best friend nods towards the pages in my claws. Smiling behind my face, I wonder what he’s printed out for me. And, surely, he’s fucking with me.
‘Are you fucking sure about this?’ I ask, growling. I don’t like this joke. Bad medicine.
He nods.
‘Christ…’
Slowly, with beautiful anguish and effort, Dirge stands up.
‘I’ve emailed that information to Syn as well,’ he says, groaning slightly in pain.
‘And I bet you enjoyed every fucking cocksucking moment of this, didn’t you, cuntlips?’
His head cocks to the side as he frowns. ‘I did it. You can deal with it or not, I don’t care. I didn’t do this for you. And besides,’ he says, smirking. ‘I owed the bitch.’
‘Save it,’ I reply, putting my hand up and, in disgust, taking my face back off.
I retreat to the darkness to think.
~
‘Mad as a hatter,’ whispers Raenius softly, looking out the window with his back to Nyx, who stands there nervously. ‘You know how that saying came about?’
‘…I-’
‘Back in the day, when people who made, sold and generally fannied about with head gear polished the top of their top hats, they used mercury for the job. Now, you breathe that shit in long enough and it fucks your brain up. Sending you, inexorably, into psychosis.’
‘What’re you-?’
‘The point being, that you choose. You make a choice in life, career, love, hate, anything… you live with the consequences.’
Raenius stands up and turns around to face Nyx, a cloth hanging over one half of his bestial countenance.
‘So what about you, Nyx? What is it about you that makes you exempt from this fact of life? What is it about you that places you above reproach? Because you need to share the wealth with the fucking rest of us.’
‘What the fuck are you talking about, Raenius?’
‘You orchestrated the hit on Dirge,’ a voice pipes up from behind Nyx as Syn enters the room, out of breath and walking in between the two to separate them.
The Resident Evil’s glower burns like Hellfire.
Nyx shrugs her shoulders. ‘Okay, I did it, so fucking what?’
‘He could’ve been killed!’ exclaims Syn.
‘No different than any time he enters the ring. He could blow his porch light on any given day. So could Raenius. So could Salem.’
Syn scowls. ‘You went to our enemy to fuck over an ally? Are you insane?!’
‘He’s a weak fucking link, Syn! All I did was prove it.’
‘It didn’t keep him down for long. Doesn’t that prove his worth?’
‘Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. But he needed to be tested.’
‘I got a fuckin’ test for you,’ growls Raenius, lip curled. ‘Three years ago. My best friend got raped and fucking murdered. My best friend, manager and fucking soul mate. Violated and slaughtered. Why?’
The colour drains from Nyx’s face.
‘I’ll tell you fucking why, Nyx. Because of you.’
Her jaw hits the floor. ‘Wh… what?!’
‘Cast your mind back three years and a few months, Nyx. You should, by all rights, remember a little altercation in a bar with you and two guys that wanted to take you back to their apartment and give you a “wobbly H”. You said no. They pushed the fact. You slapped one.’
‘…I…’
‘Turns out, he was a convicted felon. Convicted twice before, as it happens. Once for grievous bodily harm and once for sexual assault. This guy didn’t take too kindly to a slap in the jaw. He had his friend follow you home that night. Then, two nights later, he and three of his bum chums went round to your house to fuck you up. Guess who they found instead of you.’
‘…Oh my God…’ sighs Nyx as her mouth drops open, eyes widening in realisation.
‘Now you have to live with this. Dirge came by this information and, more than likely, wouldn’t have bothered if you hadn’t been so instrumental in fucking him up the asshole. So now you have to live with it, same as I do. Respecting this as the punishment it is, I’m not going to cut you a new arsehole or five. I’m not going to let Dirge do it either. Instead, I release you of your obligation to me,’ he says, putting his hand on her shoulder. ‘And if I ever see you again, I may rethink this clemency.’
Snapping his fingers for Syn to follow him out as he leaves, Nyx finds herself frozen to the spot, tears streaming down her face.
The last time Raenius will ever see her, she drops to her knees, weeping.
I look back at my wife, who insisted on driving me to this place because I can’t be trusted. Suits me. A hip flask full of Jack the remnants of a bottle of absinthe made the journey go faster. Kathryn looks over at me, nodding, knowing full well what we think of each other and never needing to utter it. I know that she loves me, regardless of my mental state, and she knows that I’ll love her until the last angel is cold and broken.
Touching the window before I turn, I breathe deeply. I look down at the floor of the car park where tiny pieces of broken glass glitter in the moonlight and look up to see the new window shimmering with Erik standing behind it. Time to get the ball rolling. Calmly, I walk up the stairs, completely in the dark as to why the Christ I’m here, but curious none the less. Never before has my presence been requested in such a tone of voice - with such trepidation. …Or Russian, true as true.
Gliding past security, I almost want them to try to stop me or ask for ID or some kind of horseshit. But none of them do. None of them can look me in the eye.
La Boheme plays softly from the CD player behind Erik. Something that inspires more emotion within me than most things. But, at his desk, Dirge sits with a look on his face that isn’t pain. Not physical discomfort, but something else…
‘Still alive are we, hmm?’ I ask, trying to begin an inane conversation to ease his tension. He fails to reply, instead sliding a folder across his desk towards Erik who lifts it and brings it over to me. Must be nice to have this kind of butler service.
Reading what’s held within the pages, my world sours and darkens.
‘Are you fucking sure about this?’ I say, looking up. More of a rhetorical question than anything else, being that the private investigators that work for Dirge’s firm are top class. ‘Christ…’
~
Ever since I took the job of managing Raenius, my headaches have increased in intensity and regularity.
The computer screen laughs at me through its lunatic, epileptic eye as I type out my report for the Order. Mr Worthington likes to be kept appraised of the comings and goings of those that occupy the House of Red. And the Red Knight, Raenius, is a tough one to track most of the time.
Checking my Iphone, I see that I have a new email. And after I open it, it opens my mind to the possibilities and consequences of what’s held inside it.
‘Shit!’ I spit, jumping out of my chair and grabbing my car keys.
~
My agony subsides. My howling stops. The chains slide from my talons and my teeth sharpen. The weakling put my face back on.
Dirge. Boy, do I love that guy.
‘Still alive, eh?’ I say. I’m sarcastic that way. ‘Class.’
My best friend nods towards the pages in my claws. Smiling behind my face, I wonder what he’s printed out for me. And, surely, he’s fucking with me.
‘Are you fucking sure about this?’ I ask, growling. I don’t like this joke. Bad medicine.
He nods.
‘Christ…’
Slowly, with beautiful anguish and effort, Dirge stands up.
‘I’ve emailed that information to Syn as well,’ he says, groaning slightly in pain.
‘And I bet you enjoyed every fucking cocksucking moment of this, didn’t you, cuntlips?’
His head cocks to the side as he frowns. ‘I did it. You can deal with it or not, I don’t care. I didn’t do this for you. And besides,’ he says, smirking. ‘I owed the bitch.’
‘Save it,’ I reply, putting my hand up and, in disgust, taking my face back off.
I retreat to the darkness to think.
~
‘Mad as a hatter,’ whispers Raenius softly, looking out the window with his back to Nyx, who stands there nervously. ‘You know how that saying came about?’
‘…I-’
‘Back in the day, when people who made, sold and generally fannied about with head gear polished the top of their top hats, they used mercury for the job. Now, you breathe that shit in long enough and it fucks your brain up. Sending you, inexorably, into psychosis.’
‘What’re you-?’
‘The point being, that you choose. You make a choice in life, career, love, hate, anything… you live with the consequences.’
Raenius stands up and turns around to face Nyx, a cloth hanging over one half of his bestial countenance.
‘So what about you, Nyx? What is it about you that makes you exempt from this fact of life? What is it about you that places you above reproach? Because you need to share the wealth with the fucking rest of us.’
‘What the fuck are you talking about, Raenius?’
‘You orchestrated the hit on Dirge,’ a voice pipes up from behind Nyx as Syn enters the room, out of breath and walking in between the two to separate them.
The Resident Evil’s glower burns like Hellfire.
Nyx shrugs her shoulders. ‘Okay, I did it, so fucking what?’
‘He could’ve been killed!’ exclaims Syn.
‘No different than any time he enters the ring. He could blow his porch light on any given day. So could Raenius. So could Salem.’
Syn scowls. ‘You went to our enemy to fuck over an ally? Are you insane?!’
‘He’s a weak fucking link, Syn! All I did was prove it.’
‘It didn’t keep him down for long. Doesn’t that prove his worth?’
‘Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. But he needed to be tested.’
‘I got a fuckin’ test for you,’ growls Raenius, lip curled. ‘Three years ago. My best friend got raped and fucking murdered. My best friend, manager and fucking soul mate. Violated and slaughtered. Why?’
The colour drains from Nyx’s face.
‘I’ll tell you fucking why, Nyx. Because of you.’
Her jaw hits the floor. ‘Wh… what?!’
‘Cast your mind back three years and a few months, Nyx. You should, by all rights, remember a little altercation in a bar with you and two guys that wanted to take you back to their apartment and give you a “wobbly H”. You said no. They pushed the fact. You slapped one.’
‘…I…’
‘Turns out, he was a convicted felon. Convicted twice before, as it happens. Once for grievous bodily harm and once for sexual assault. This guy didn’t take too kindly to a slap in the jaw. He had his friend follow you home that night. Then, two nights later, he and three of his bum chums went round to your house to fuck you up. Guess who they found instead of you.’
‘…Oh my God…’ sighs Nyx as her mouth drops open, eyes widening in realisation.
‘Now you have to live with this. Dirge came by this information and, more than likely, wouldn’t have bothered if you hadn’t been so instrumental in fucking him up the asshole. So now you have to live with it, same as I do. Respecting this as the punishment it is, I’m not going to cut you a new arsehole or five. I’m not going to let Dirge do it either. Instead, I release you of your obligation to me,’ he says, putting his hand on her shoulder. ‘And if I ever see you again, I may rethink this clemency.’
Snapping his fingers for Syn to follow him out as he leaves, Nyx finds herself frozen to the spot, tears streaming down her face.
The last time Raenius will ever see her, she drops to her knees, weeping.