ã€ŠCasa do Dia&#xF1;o: The Foolã€‹


 Prologue: A Fathers Message to His Children

    "I¡¯ve grown much too old for this

    Years have left and women have died

    They gave their lives for this

    It¡¯s all for you, meus fillos

    Years have left and women have died

    I¡¯m no longer strong enough

    It¡¯s all for you, meus fillos

    They gave their lives for my vision

    I¡¯m no longer strong enough

    The world will end soon enough

    They gave their lives for my visionSupport the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Things will be the way they should be

    The world will end soon enough

    So take this final gift

    Things will be the way they should be

    Boa sorte, meus fillos."

    Folding the parchment back to its original unread condition, the Eldest nodded; answering to nobody, really. Father was gone. Who knew when he''d return? Given his nature, he almost certainly will return, be it in a hundred years or a thousand years. But could she keep things afloat during that time?

    He mentioned a gift, but provided nothing with his message. What was he playing at? Leaving his children empty-handed like that? He didn''t raise a bunch of idiots, so what was this game of his? Perhaps he hid the gift in his quarters somewhere?

    Under his bed?

    In his wardrobe?

    In his desk?

    But the Eldest then heard a loud, obnoxious sound. Not from the message, mind you. Hell, this sound wasn''t even present in her home. Rather, the sound came from above. She then knew that this sound was almost directly over the entryway to her world. Somebody was knocking on the front door, but using a hammer instead of their fist.

    She wanted to be angry, but she couldn''t help but smile instead. Aha! Father hadn''t left the gift here, but elsewhere. She gathered the pieces of what she was to do. She clapped her hands, summoning her other five siblings to face her. She laughed wickedly.

    ¡°Let''s open Father''s gift, shall we?¡±

 Chapter One: To Hell With the Elderly!

    Look at these people.

    Just...look at these people.

    These people are starving themselves stupid; or so they say, anyway. I can hardly tell if they''re really hungry or if it''s the Go-Go Juice. I mean, that would explain the mad amount of vomit the good ol'' soup kitchen staff has had to mop up during the two hours we''ve been here ¡°volunteering¡±. ¡°Oh calm down,¡± Heidi told me as she poured her two-hundredth bowl of chicken soup for the day, ¡°d''ese people are hungry, cold, and sick. They don''t got anythin'' else. Homelessness is an epidemic.¡±

    No, homelessness ain''t the epidemic.

    Complacency is the real epidemic.

    And honey, you''re only feeding the virus more bacteria.

    Think about it for a hot minute, will you? These people are living on the streets. They either got canned from their top dollar banking gig or they got caught with their pants around their kneecaps, coaching their wife''s sister on her bi-weekly arm workouts. Either way, both scenarios lead to stress, which materializes into alcoholism. Suddenly their constant state of drunken euphoria ends and they realize their wife has left them, taking half of what her ex owns. Sometimes she''ll just take the whole goddamn house too, but some are lucky enough to at least keep the house until they can no longer afford to make monthly payments on it. Bring on the foreclosure and constant bickering with tax collectors. Next thing this bastard knows, they''re waking up to the foul stench of yet another piss stain bled into their cardboard heaven. Whether this came from somebody''s dog or some typical New York asshole, there''s no way to tell. All that this person knows is that they''ll be needing their fourth box this week alone.

    Now, I want you to imagine yourself as this unfortunate bozo. Ask yourself a very important question now as you toss out your soiled box and begin your search for another, cleaner cardboard shelter. At this moment in time, would you rather have a house with central heating, a roof, and a fully operational shower system? Or would you be completely fine with eating reheated soup for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every remaining day of your meaningless existence?

    You hopefully chose the house.

    If you chose the reheated soup, then I really gotta wonder if maybe your old man hit you a little too hard in the head when you were a kid.

    These people don''t need to be fed; they need the means to stop being poor and get their shit together. They need a way to overcome their drug addictions, stop jerking off to unfinished suicide notes, rekindle their lost relationships or at least create new ones¡ªgive them some kind of fucking light at the end of the tunnel, you know? But by all means, Heidi, keep stuffing their faces full of that expired soup. I''m sure they really appreciate all your hard work and generosity.

    Now, would you believe me if I said that I told her all of this? That''s right, everything you just read came straight outta my mouth. Needless to say, she didn''t appreciate my honesty in the very slightest. Then again, nobody truly appreciates honesty in its purest form. If you ever hear somebody preach about honesty being a virtue, snuff ''em right in the jaw. I do it all the time; don''t make me many friends, truth be told.

    ¡°I don''t got time to argue this with you. Go be useful and tawlk to some of our guests.¡± I rolled my eyes and turned around to do as she asked, but make no mistake; I could feel her grilling me big time. I don''t really care, though. If she knew half the shit I did in my spare time, she''d do more than just give me mean looks.

    I found a mostly empty table and occupied it. Not two minutes after taking a seat did some old timer sit his ass down right next to me. ¡°Hey, son.¡± His Jack Daniels breath came right for me like a raging bull and, before I knew it, was beating the ever loving shit out of my nostrils. I grimaced, not even giving him the satisfaction of offering up a smile. Not that he could call me out on this or anything; he quickly lost his lunch all over the table top and had to be escorted to the bathroom. The frizzy-haired volunteer who was stuck doing this gave me a sour look for not helping him myself. I gave the old bird a wink and cheeky grin in response.

    I don''t care if you''re homeless.

    I don''t care if you''re old.

    I ain''t gonna feel sorry for you when you got yourself into this mess in the first place.

    Let some flat-assed middle aged lady take care of you, instead.

    Once they were gone, I got away from the puke-covered table and went on the lookout for another place to sit. I, of course, didn''t have a whole lot of luck in this endeavor. Every table either was full, or had the overly enthusiastic elders motioning for me to sit with them. You know the type: always smiling, constantly referring to you as ¡°friend¡± even though they don''t even know you, holding their hands out at you. You typically find these creeps at churches or some other religious gatherings.

    I decided topass.

    Forgive me if I''d rather stick my dick in a toaster than have a bunch of zealots cramming Jesus down my throat.

    After six unsuccessful minutes of seat-hunting, I finally just said ¡°screw it¡± and opted to lean against a wall for the remainder of my time in this cesspool. Despite the general filth and grime of the establishment, the walls at least looked somewhat clean. Plus, standing up would help ensure that it''s harder for me to doze off in the midst of people watching. Of course, this decision proved to not be without consequence.

    For starters, the building was pretty chilly. Then again, that''s what you get for living up north. You either felt mad brick outdoors, or you felt only a little brick indoors. But brick was still brick, no matter how you measured its intensity. I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my black jean jacket, shivering quietly. But you know something? I could''ve lived with the cold if it weren''t for all the eyes.

    Looks.

    Whispers.

    Pointing.

    It didn''t take a rocket scientist to tell me that I was being observed by these assholes.

    So what about me fascinated them so much? Was it the moderately sized hole just above my right knee on my blue jeans? Were they appalled by my M?tley Cr¨¹e shirt underneath my jacket? I know how these old timers are. Anything that ain''t 1920''s jazz is considered ¡°devil''s music¡±, right? Or maybe, just maybe, they weren''t offended by my style at all. Perhaps they were just jealous of how good looking I am! I mean, I got a little pudge around the gut, but that ain''t stopped girls from wanting my phone number before. I scratched the growing scruff along my jaw, flashing the old people my best, sleaziest smirk that I could muster up.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Oh boy, the looks that gave me.

    Widened nostrils.

    Row of scowls long enough that you could make a belt or scarf out of them.

    A couple of women putting hands over their hearts, gaping like idiots.

    ¡°Goodness gracious!¡± you say?

    I think you mean, ¡°Be still my beatin¡¯ heart!¡±

    But then, another possibility occurred to me. Truth be told, I wouldn''t of even considered this one if it weren''t for the look a select few of the vagrants were giving me. They gave me looks of disgust like everyone else, sure. But these particular looks had another layer coating their initial revulsion. I could see it in their eyes. They might''ve been scowling, but those pupils of theirs were fully dilated.

    Either these cats were high as balls, or they were afraid of me.

    Oh, the look I got when this thought came to my head.

    You see, fear is often related to submission. You see it in animals all the time. Bigger animals prey on smaller animals. Smaller animals fear these bigger animals because they know they are not strong enough to take them on. The only option for them is to either run or submit, accepting their grisly fate. These old timers weren''t running or begging for another volunteer to protect them, so they clearly were reluctantly submitting to my might. Now more elders were beginning to look frightened. Like how I read their minds by looking at their faces, they could do the same with me.

    They knew I had them figured out.

    They knew I wasn''t bothered.

    And they knew that I was up to no good.

    Goddammit, how I wished Heidi was at home! Without her here to stop me, I could lose myself. I could unfasten these restraints and let loose on every motherfucker in this building. The lovely lady hiding in the inner pocket of my jacket was dying to meet these people.

    Shake their hands and kiss ''em goodbye.

    Now my hands were shaking. I needed a cigarette. I wanted to leave this place. I was no longer against the wall, but rather pacing back and forth while trapped in my own rambling thoughts.

    Don''t act like this ain''t natural. Think on it! These old timers are scared shitless of me; not because I said anything to them or because they witnessed me sock a bastard in the face or something. All I did was look at them. That was it! How many of you can say that you invoked enough control over someone where all you had to do to get your way was LOOK at them?

    People were still staring at me, I was sure of it. But I didn''t care. Fuck ''em! Fuck ''em all! Let them all watch me stew in my own brilliant thoughts. If one of them so happens to utter a single word to me about my ¡°bizarre behavior¡±, I''ll spaz so hard on their asses that the shock will rupture their frail hearts. For Christ''s sake, Heidi¡ªlet me hurt somebody!

    My pacing sped up. I''m was in a cold sweat. My breathing also got louder, though I assumed nobody could hear me over the loud chatter of the soup kitchen. My heart was pounding hard in my chest.

    I was excited.

    Too fucking excited.

    Now I was grabbing my short, black hair. The urge was making me crazy! Now I knew people heard my breathing; I heard quite a bit of gasping. Though, to be fair, I wasn''t sure if the gasping was coming from them or me. Surely not me, right? I ain''t that whack, am I?

    Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of me tripping, Heidi came running out from the kitchen. I heard somebody from afar shout something along the lines of, ¡°I don''t know what''s happening, Heidi!¡± Who it was, I wasn''t able to identify. I didn''t care nearly enough. She grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me pretty good. ¡°Genghis. Genghis! What the hell you doin''?¡±

    Oh yeah.

    I forgot to mention that.

    My name is fucking Genghis.

    Like the Mongolian warlord.

    Thank my asshole dad for that one.

    ¡°Genghis, tawlk to me!¡± No can do, Heidi. If I were to talk to you, I''d never shut up. You''d have me raving in your ear for the rest of the night. I wouldn''t sleep. You wouldn''t sleep. You''d hate me for doing that to you. You''d hate me for saying incredibly vile things to you. You''d hate me for me being me.

    I didn''t talk to her.

    I did, however, scream the word ¡°FUCK!¡± as loudly as I could.

    Yep.

    Right in the middle of the soup kitchen in which ninety percent of the guests were senior citizens.

    Likely humiliated by my actions, Heidi spit out about six ¡°I''m sorry¡±s to the guests and volunteers before grabbing my arm and dragging me outside. Once we were outside, I immediately yanked my arm away from her and whipped out my lighter and box of cigarettes. I could hear her voice, but wasn''t listening to the words coming out of her mouth. Once my smoke was lit, I paced back and forth in front of Heidi, happy to be able to breath a little easier outdoors.

    You wanna know the funny thing?

    The cold wasn''t bothering me much anymore.

    The breeze seemed to just bounce right off my flesh!

    ¡°Genghis,¡± I finally heard Heidi say quietly. I looked at her, but didn''t stop my pacing. Like the homeless people, she too had a tinge of fear in her eyes. However, her fear wasn''t mixed with repulse. Her eyes were wide, but her eyebrows were not elevated. And the corners of her mouth were straight, but threatening to curve downwards.

    Sadness.

    Mixed with fear.

    Concern.

    She held her hand out. ¡°Let''s go for a walk, Genghis.¡± Ah, so that''s what she was planning. She was hoping to calm me down from my episode. ¡°Thaaintgunwork,¡± I spat out too quickly. I was never able to properly enunciate words when I was like this. It was a pain in the ass not being able to communicate.

    She only kept holding her hand out. ¡°C''mon, let''s go for a walk. We can go to the park. You said the park always made you feel at peace. Remember?¡± Yeah, I did say that. About four years ago, but I still said that.

    ¡°N-Nuhhh,¡± I mumbled through my cigarette. She offered me a timid smile. ¡°We can get somethin'' to eat afterwords. Anywhere you want.¡± At this point, I knew I wasn''t going to be able to convince her out of this. She thought she had me mostly figured out. And honestly, she did. Though maybe it was safer to hide some things from her. You understand. ¡°Notfuckinsoup.¡±

    She giggled.

    Somehow she understood my jumbled mess of words.

    ¡°Okay, no soup. We''ll figure it out after a nice trip to the park.¡± Hesitantly, I grabbed her hand while my other hand held my smokestick. She gave me a reassuring smile before we set off towards Fulton Park. She attempted to make small talk along the way, but I said nothing.

    These thoughts inside my head? She don''t need to know a single one of ''em.

 Chapter Two: Anger is Thy Name

    So much for a peaceful walk around the park.

    About five minutes shy of reaching Fulton Park, we were stopped by an incredibly unwanted visitor. Our visitor wore blue jeans and a sweater that looked like his grandma was only a few fabrics short of knitting him a puppy-dog face on the very front. This prick was a guy that me and Heidi knew in high school by the name of Paul Sadler. Paul was born and raised in Kansas, moving to Brooklyn when his old man got hired on for a teaching gig. Fortunately for Paul, he was never one to fall into the ¡°new kid¡± trap.

    He made friends quite easily.

    He was always on the Honor Roll.

    He was in just about every school club that didn''t exclude guys from joining.

    Paul was perfect.

    A real boy scout.

    Unfortunately, me and Heidi each had totally different opinions of the sniveling bastard.

    Upon hearing him call out to her on the street, Heidi immediately let go of my hand and ran into his arms. They tenderly pressed their lips together while she ran a hand through his blonde shoulder-length mop. He hummed at her touch, wrapping an arm around her waist. By looking at the two of them, you''d think they hadn''t seen each other in years. But I knew that was bullshit and so did they. Paul made it a point to see Heidi at least once every single day. Any day where this wasn''t possible, he''d call her on the land-line and keep her on the phone for hours on end. It''s been like this now for almost five years.

    Yeah, you read that correctly.

    Five goddamn years.

    The kiss was thankfully short, but it nevertheless left them both seeing stars and me seeing red. He playfully gave her auburn ponytail a quick stroke before letting go of her. ¡°What''s good, you?¡± Heidi purred blissfully. Paul smiled wide. Her voice always made the boy scout stupid happy. He often compared her voice to a thousand angels singing a holy hymn all about peace on Earth. ¡°But those thousands of angels singing about peace are no match for the one angel standing in front me, singing her song of peace to me,¡± is a line he''s used on her about five-hundred times now; well, that I''ve heard. Who the hell knows many times he''s said it when they were alone?

    ¡°My day just got a hundred times better,¡± he chuckled. Heidi giggled like a little schoolgirl. ¡°You don''t mean that.¡± He winked at her. I ain''t talking about a proper wink a man gives a lady to let her know he wants to take her home. I''m talking about one of those long, exaggerated ¡°I know something you don''t know¡± types of winks. Like if they were in a TV sitcom and his wink was directly at the camera, followed by the live studio audience cracking up. But that didn''t matter to Heidi; she found it endearing...somehow. And this unfortunately led to a series of really...oh, just read it and you''ll see.

    ¡°You''re such a dork!¡±

    ¡°But I''m your dork, baby.¡±

    ¡°Are you only my dork?¡±

    ¡°You know it, sugarbabe!¡±

    ¡°Oh, I love you!¡±

    ¡°I love you more.¡±

    ¡°No, you!¡±

    ¡°No, you!¡±

    Did I mention already that these two have been together for five years?

    Sick of the mushfest, I pulled out my second cigarette within the hour and lit up. Like a charm, the initial smell of lit tobacco jolted the both of them out of their verbal masturbation session. Heidi had a look of guilt, like she felt bad about forgetting that I was there watching them. Paul''s look of discomfort served as bonus points for me, though. The wimp has always been nauseated by the smell of cigarette smoke.

    ¡°Hey, Genghis. Umm, do you mind?¡± Paul said, pinching his nose together to block out the smell. I cocked an eyebrow at him. What a terrific question.

    Did I mind putting out my cigarette in his presence?

    Did he mind not macking on Heidi in my presence?

    Oh, what''s that?

    He did mind?

    Then so do I, asshole.

    I blew out a cloud of smoke upwards, but it was enough to make the boy scout hack up his lungs. ¡°Genghis! Do you mind?!¡± he repeated, this time with a bit more frustration in his voice. I gave him a smirk and shrugged my shoulders. We''re outdoors, stupid. It ain''t a crime to smoke here.

    Heidi gently grabbed his arm, deciding to intervene. ¡°Don''t mind him, okay? He''s...had a rough afternoon.¡± Paul gave me a look indicating that he was curious. ¡°How rough?¡±

    Oh, here we go. The thing about Heidi is that she always feels the need to try helping me out by explaining to others my ¡°issues¡±, regardless if they ask or not. She justifies it by stating that it''s ¡°to make them understand¡±. You know, it would be one thing if she accomplished this by bluntly telling people to stay away from me when I was in the zone. But...no. I can''t get that kind of satisfaction.

    Heidi, you see, has this incredible gift for making me, a twenty-year old man with questionable interests, sound more like a two-year old that she''s trying to potty train. That ain''t even an exaggeration, you guys. She uses the same heightened pitch in her voice that people usually use to talk to babies, she uses the word ¡°accident¡± to describe something I did while I was on a roll, and tops it all off by saying the phrase, ¡°He''s gettin'' better, but sometimes he makes a little boo-boo.¡± Without proper context, people would automatically assume that she was referring to her young son who constantly shits his pants.

    Yeah, so I have that going for me.

    If you''re shaking your head and thinking, ¡°I dunno, Genghis. It can''t be that bad,¡± then why don''t you just listen to her describe the incident at the soup kitchen to Paul and make your own judgments?

    ¡°Genghis sorta had a...little accident at the soup kitchen today.¡± My palm loudly met my forehead. Do you even need to know how the rest of this conversation went? I think that statement alone is enough to prove my point! I bit my bottom lip and growled loud enough for her to hear me. Yes, Heidi, please¡ªmake it sound like I had a random bowel movement right there in the middle of the goddamn soup kitchen!

    She, of course, ignored me and continued.

    ¡°He kinda startled a bunch of people towards the end there. Mrs. Frier told me that he was actin'' funny, so I went to check it out. I found ''im pacing really fast back and fawth, breathin'' really loudly; almost sounded like he was hyperventilatin'' or somethin''!¡±

    I guess that was me gasping, then.

    Dammit.

    Paul''s eyes widened. ¡°Oh man, what happened? Did somebody say something creepy to you? There''s no shame in being scared, Genghis.¡± My hand immediately flew up, flipping him the bird. Heidi slapped my hand away. ¡°I really wish he''d tell me when he was feelin'' mad nervous. Then maybe it would be easier to avoid causin'' a big scene!¡±

    I don''t get ¡°nervous¡±, sweetheart.

    I get excited.

    Big difference.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    She put an arm around my neck. I knew the big line was coming. ¡°He''s gettin'' better, though. I can honestly say that. He''s been better at keepin'' himself in check. But sometimes he makes a boo-boo.¡± Oh honey, if only you knew.

    If only you really knew.

    She playfully jabbed my shoulder. ¡°He really had me scared! He screamed really loud when I tried to get him to tawlk to me.¡± Paul laughed. It wasn''t an ¡°Oh shit, that''s unsettling¡± kind of laugh, either. It was more like an ¡°Oh you adorable little creature; you do the darnedest things!¡± kind of laugh. He was really lucky Heidi was there.

    ¡°So I guess he was pretty scared, too!¡±

    No, I wasn''t.

    Heidi smiled. ¡°We were on our way to the park. Genghis always enjoys goin'' there. Gets him away from the chaotic city for a minute.¡± Paul smiled at her. ¡°You''re such a good sist¡ª¡± I cleared my throat loudly, attempting for the first time in the last half hour to speak. ¡°Step. Step-sister,¡± I said with a venomous tone. Paul responded with an uneasy chuckle. ¡°My mistake, buddy! It''s all okay. We all get a little anxious sometimes, right Heidi?¡±

    Fuck me; there''s this, too.

    Paul Sadler, trying to be the perfect boyfriend to Heidi, makes every attempt possible to try sucking up to her family. Once a month, he''ll come over to our apartment and spoil our fathers with gifts. He always gives her old man some kind of football memorabilia and he gives my old man some shitty present like a coffee mug or a baseball card for his collection. This simple trick of manipulation, of course, always works because both my father and Heidi''s father are drooling morons.

    And oh boy, the ways he''s tried winning me over.

    One time, Paul tried hooking me up with some girl in his third period art class. That''s right, this turd thought I needed help getting a girl despite the fact that I had way more sex than he did. ¡°You could use a girlfriend, Genghis. Love is a wonderful thing to have!¡±

    That''s so right, Paulie!

    Just ask Heidi.

    At least the girl in question was a looker. Her name was Lacy Franklin; sophomore. She looked an awful lot like Ally Sheedy from The Breakfast Club, aka the only thing about the poster that enticed me enough to go see it when it was in theaters. Anyway, it turned out this girl he wanted me to hook up with was not only in the closet, but had the hots for just about every broad on the cheer-leading squad. I promised her I''d keep her secret if she told Paul we fucked during a party once upon a time. She laughed and asked, ¡°Does it have to be good sex?¡± I shrugged and told ''er, ¡°It could either be the best fuck you ever had¡ªmade you scream like a banshee. Or I could''ve passed out after just two thrusts. I doan care.¡± I guess that answer surprised her because she kept her end of the bargain and I kept mine. And considering Paul didn''t walk up to me and offer any condolences, I''m gonna assume she spoke well of my ¡°performance¡±.

    Anyway, the point I''m trying to get across is that Paul has been pretty desperate to get on my good side. Most of the time, he tries being my best friend by complimenting me, inviting me out with him and his friends, and laughing at my snarky comments that, sixty percent of the time, are actually about him; he''s just too stupid to catch the hint.

    The worst of his attempts, however, are these.

    His attempts to relate to me.

    ¡°If you feel more comfortable talking to a fellow guy about your problems, I''m right here, champ!¡±

    Don''t you dare talk to me like you understand me, ¡°fellow guy¡±.

    The only reason you care is because you want Heidi to keep going down on you.

    I''m mentally ill; not stupid.

    ¡°I''m out,¡± I barked irritably, pulling away from Heidi. I dropped my cigarette, stamping it out. I was done hearing these two talk about me like I was some special needs case. The longer I was around them, the more aggravated I got. I needed five minutes to myself.

    I was almost on the road until she grabbed a hold of my arm. ¡°Genghis, where do you think you''re goin''?¡± I pulled my arm away from her. ¡°Across the street to that gas station. I''ll be back in a minute.¡± I continued onward, watching out for traffic. Unfortunately, the lovebirds decided to follow me like a bunch of ducklings following their mother.

    ¡°Do you need somethin''? I can get it for you, you know!¡± I rolled my eyes, breathing out an annoyed, ¡°I''m just goin'' to the bathroom, sheesh.¡± Once we reached the other side, Paul made the big statement that he was gonna go with me.

    ¡°Yeah, no you ain''t,¡± I muttered as I pushed the door to the gas station open. Heidi waited outside and he continued to follow me on his dutiful quest to make his girlfriend proud of him. ¡°I-I insist, my man! Besides, I drank a little too much coffee this morning. It''s gone through my system big ti¡ª¡±

    ¡°Go piss against the wall outside,¡± I said, navigating through people browsing through chips and candy. I could hear Paul laughing behind me. ¡°You know I can''t do that, Genghis. That would be very unlawful. Not to mention disrespectful to the establishment!¡± I bit my lip, my temper threatening to let loose on this bozo. ¡°Then you go to the bathroom; I''ll meet you outside,¡± I responded, turning around to leave. He grabbed my arm. ¡°Whoa, man! Don''t do that. What if a cop sees you?¡±

    Well, the bastard put his hands on me.

    That was all the justification I needed.

    Before Paul Sadler could say the phrase ¡°I love Heidi Leanne Boy¡±, my fist snuffed him right in the nose. He, of course, yelped like a little bitch and spun around, nearly bumping into some fat guy having trouble choosing between Cheetos and Pringles. ¡°Yo, watch it!¡± the guy spat out, not caring that a guy just got physically assaulted in public.

    Ah, gotta love Brooklyn.

    Paul turned around to face me, beginnings of blood trying to run down his nostrils. ¡°What the he¡ª¡± I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him close enough to where he could feel my breath on his face. ¡°Listen here, chump; I doan need your fuckin'' help. I just want to breathe for five mother-fuckin'' minutes without you and your woman givin'' me shit. Alright?!¡± He nodded like a bobble-head. ¡°Now be a good boy-toy and protect Heidi from the crazy New Yorkers outside.¡± With that, I pushed him hard onto the floor and turned around to enter the men''s room.

    I shoved the door open and walked in, letting the door slam loudly behind me. Without examining my surroundings, I unleashed a series of punches against the wall. ¡°Fuck all these people!¡± I growled loudly, determined to get most of my anger out of my system before facing Heidi again. I was shaking with rage.

    How dare they talk to me like I''m some kind of idiot.

    How dare Paul try to use me to impress Heidi.

    How dare Heidi love him more than life itself.

    How dare Paul move to New York in the first place!

    I kicked the nearest stall before turning around and sitting down on the ground, leaning against said stall. There was a row of about four urinals and two stalls, all of which were unoccupied. So at least I had the room to myself. Finally.

    I beat my fist against the ground a few times, but quit when my knuckles started feeling sore. I leaned my head back, trying to control my breathing. It was something I remembered from a few years back when I was forced to undergo anger management training. ¡°Relax, young man,¡± the therapist told me, ¡°try to avoid thinking of those pesky triggers. Breathe in, breathe out. Think of something that makes you happy.¡±

    The park.

    That would''ve made me feel happy had we actually gone there.

    But no; Paul had to show his ugly mug around and get Heidi''s panties love-stained.

    I positioned myself to where my knees were up, legs spread slightly. I lowered my face into my kneecaps, wrapping my arms around my head and knees. This breathing thing wasn''t working for me today. The bad thoughts just wouldn''t shut up.

    The thoughts...they never could decide what they wanted to be. Did I want settle down and start a family, or did I want to take over the world? Did I want to submit to the corporate world and get myself an honest job, or did I want to continue sticking it to the man in anyway I could? Did I want to be in love, or did I just want to be alone? No, never alone. Anything but alone. Anything.

    Please don''t cry.

    Please don''t cry.

    You''re a man; you can''t do that.

    The bathroom door opened and I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as possible. I guess the boy scout got whipped into coming back to check up on me. Well, I wasn''t about to let Paul have the satisfaction of seeing me tear up like a baby. As a matter of fact, I wasn''t gonna let him smile his way out the shit river he''s sank himself into. He can have Heidi mad at me all he wants, but I''m going to be straight with him. I''m going to let him know exactly how things are going to be for now on. I could go further, if I wanted to. I could tell him so many things that would fuck him up permanently.

    Things about me.

    Things about Heidi.

    Things about our family.

    The poor bastard wouldn''t know how to deal with any of it.

    I was ready to pop off at him the moment he said a word to me in that bathroom. However, the word never came. The door opened, footsteps came walking in, and then they stopped somewhere past me. Eventually I could hear what sounded like a fairly large zipper coming undone. I lifted my head up and turned to see what was going on.

    Somebody was occupying a urinal, but it wasn''t Paul. It was some pale-ass motherfucker with short blonde hair. He wore a jersey like the ones at my old high school, though he, himself, I didn''t recognize. Either he was new, or he was just a freshman. He was definitely younger than me, no doubt.

    And here he was today.

    In the same bathroom as me.

    Currently in a terribly vulnerable state.

    While I was itching to get my hands on someone.

    Didn''t even need to be Paul.

    ¡­

    Didn''t even need to be Paul.

    There was my smile again.

 Chapter Three: The Hunters Game

    Will it be three today?

    I slowly stood up, back against the charcoal-textured bathroom stall. My eyes remained fixated on the stranger minding his own business at his urinal. This is the way most tragic ends come in nature, ain''t it? The little harmless rabbit is just hopping along in the forest, searching for greens to eat. He ain''t doing anything wrong; he''s just minding his own business. But that don''t stop a hungry wolf on the prowl. He looks at this rabbit and thinks, ¡°Finally, a snack!¡± Next thing the rabbit knows, he''s writhing in pain, choking on his own blood.

    Well, this wolf just found himself a snack in this measly bathroom.

    Not a particularly tasty snack, but a snack nonetheless.

    Being sure to be extra stealthy, I crept up toward my little rabbit with my heels up as to avoid generating footsteps. I bit down on my lip so the sound of my breathing would be silenced. When you''re hunting, you absolutely cannot be seen or heard unless you got some kind of elaborate plan. In this scenario, I had no plan. I had no prior motive to harming this kid; he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

    As I inched closer to my victim, I shoved my hand into the inner pocket of my jacket. I dug until I felt the coldness of my concealed lady. I held on to her tight, letting her know how much I missed her. Then I gently whipped her out of the safety of my clothes. Before the world knew it, it was blessed with the ineffable beauty that was my revolver.

    .45 Colt.

    Single-Action.

    Uberti Cattleman, 1873 Model.

    Gunmetal gray barrel.

    Burgundy stock.

    We''re six years strong, and she''s never failed to turn me on immensely.

    I call her Myra.

    I finally reached my destination directly behind the kid. He didn''t hear me, or at least he didn''t act like he heard me. He just stood there, utilizing his urinal with utter serenity. He didn''t suspect a thing.

    Can you imagine that? Having such a wonderful, terrific life that you felt you could just waltz wherever you wanted and never once concern yourself with the big bad world outside? Life is just a never-ending party where everybody is always having fun. You get drunk, you laugh your ass off, dance the night away, and possibly fuck that gorgeous stranger on the other side of the room. It''s all a simple gig, right?

    But what this guy don''t know is that, even at killer parties, things ain''t all going peachy keen. While the music is blasting, a girl is getting date-raped by the ¡°nice guy¡± she met at the grocery store. While friends grind against each other on the dance floor, somebody is OD''ing on Roxanne in the upstairs bathroom. While everybody is toasting to the good times, a boy is being beaten by half a dozen guys for having darker skin than they got.

    Everybody is going to the party to have a good time, but what defines a ¡°good time¡± to certain individuals? The girl''s rapist, the crackhead''s dealer, the half a dozen racists¡ªthey''re all a special breed of human being. They''re the ones who don''t care about morals or law; the ¡°free-spirits¡±. This unfortunate bozo was about to meet one of those special breeds. It was time he be taught a valuable lesson in never trusting his surroundings.

    I put the gun to the back of his head.

    Cue the four clicks of death.

    ¡°Doan turn around.¡±

    The kid gasped loudly, tensing up rather quickly upon feeling Myra''s barrel against his head. ¡°W-W-What the¡ª¡± I butted the barrel hard against the back of his skull, jolting him forward in pain. ¡°Doan fuckin'' speak unless I tell you to.¡± He nodded quickly.

    ¡°Hand over your money bag¡ªdoan look at me when you do it.¡± He swallowed hard. ¡°M-My hands are kind of bu¡ª¡± I hit him again with Myra''s barrel, making him yelp pretty loudly. ¡°Look buddy, the first time was just a warning. This time? Strike numero uno. Now zip the fuck up and give me your wallet!¡± He immediately wrapped up his business and dug into his front left pocket. The blonde eventually held up his wallet and I snatched it from him.

    You can tell a lot about somebody''s social class by what kind of wallet they carried around. Think about it for a moment. The world is run by moola; it''s what determines our place in society. Give an imbecile seventy-million and he''s high tops, living easy. Give a genius ten dollars and he''s nothing but a street bum. Nobody cares who you are so long as you got the guap.

    So, what better way to convey the message of who you are socially than to have a wallet that compliments your lifestyle? A rich sonuvabitch will carry around a lush velvet wallet, red like the blood of his employees. Rhinestones are arranged on the front and back to spell out his initials. He likes to see people sacrifice their time and patience for the sake of him earning an extra dollar. He don''t got any problems; he just wants to go home and indulge in his fetish for fine fabrics while soaking in his jacuzzi full of green.

    A poor sonuvabitch? He''ll carry a Ziploc bag, filled with all the quarters he dug out from his couch and car seat. He didn''t bother to count all of them before he left home, but surely he has enough to order a burger and fries for lunch. People look at this guy with scorn as he pulls out his bag and slowly begins counting his change. He don''t care about status; if anything, he begs for people to look at how poor he is. Because, that way, nobody will judge him for leaving the burger joint to go shoplift a new pair of shoes for his daughter.

    This cat I was mugging carried a full-grain leather billfold with an aniline finish. This was the kind of wallet you''d see your grandpa pull out of his pocket when purchasing prune juice and a week''s worth of spaghetti noodles for his wife''s cooking. Chances were that this kid was given this wallet on his thirteenth birthday as a symbol of his ¡°becoming a man¡±. He looked at the wallet, thought it was dull to look at, but knew he didn''t have the money to go buy a more ¡°hip¡± one that would impress his grade school pals. So he kept it and never found a reason to get rid of it.

    I knew I wasn''t gonna get rich off this kid...but it wasn''t truly about the money, now was it?

    Still holding the kid at gunpoint, I opened up the wallet and looked inside. I whistled loudly at the sight before me. ¡°Wow kid, you sure you can affawd to walk around in this gas station?¡± He shook his head viciously.

    ¡°I-I don''t g-got much, but you can have it¡ªI swear! Just, please, don''t hurt me!¡± Cue yet another strike from Myra against his head. ¡°Motherfucker, did I say you could tawlk to me? That''s strike numero due now, kid. One more screw-up and you''re fuckin'' dead. Got me?!¡± Now he was sobbing something fierce. Guy sounded kinda like a little kid who got in trouble for stealing his classmate''s blue crayon. ¡°Shut up!¡± I shouted at him before closing his wallet.

    My victim started shaking hard. He continued to snivel and cry, though I could see his desperate attempts to regain his composure. His attempts showed in his mix of groaning and sobbing. I knew exactly what he was thinking at this moment in time. You could call me a mind reader, but any mouth-breather with a pair of eyes could tell you what he was thinking with some level of accuracy. This kid? He was sitting on a pretty sharp fence at the moment. He didn''t know if he was gonna leave this bathroom alive or he''d be found in a pool of his own blood by some Joe looking to drain his pipes before gassing up his ''85 Honda Civic.

    The kid had hope, though.

    He had hope that I''d suddenly see the error of my ways and let him go with only a bump on the back of his head.

    He had the hope that he''d get to go home again and eat his mom''s tuna casserole for dinner.

    And he had the hope that he''d get to go to school again and earn the Cougars another victory by making that final touchdown of the night.

    I smiled, chuckling to myself. ¡°You ain''t got enough guap for me to even floss my teeth with,¡± I said, stuffing the wallet into my inner jacket pocket. His shoulders began to relax, but I quickly fixed that by poking Myra against his skull again. Couldn''t have this bastard breathing easy, now could we? What kind of mugger would I be, then?

    I took two steps closer to him, still pressing Myra against his head. I leaned my mouth up to his ear. ¡°Tell me somethin'', kid.¡± He gasped at the sensation my breath against his flesh gave him. However, he was a good boy and didn''t speak.

    I backed away from the kid. ¡°When you woke up this mornin''...¡± I started as I began pacing back and forth, me nor Myra ever looking away from him, ¡°...when you got out of bed...when you took your mornin'' shower...¡± He swallowed hard, attempting to brace himself for whatever I was planning. ¡°...when you ate your bowl of cereal for breakfast...when you promised your mom you''d be home before it got too dark outside...¡± I stopped back where I started, poking Myra against his skull again. ¡°...did you ever think you''d end up right here? In this gas station? In this bathroom? Did you ever once wawrry that you''d have a gun pointed at your head by a stranger like me?¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    He shook his head. ¡°N-No man. No I didn''t!¡± I studied his blonde hair for a moment before asking him another question. ¡°Tell me another thing. What do you think is gonna happen to you right now?¡± He gasped again, breathing fast. ¡°W-What do I think is gonna happen to me?!¡± he parroted shrilly.

    Myra slapped him in the back of the head.

    Again.

    He cried like a bitch.

    Again.

    ¡°I''m the one askin'' the questions here, pal!¡± He sobbed for a good minute or so before shaking his head again. ¡°I-I-I don''t know!¡± I growled impatiently, not satisfied with his incredibly lazy answer. ¡°Think, kid! Use that imagination of yours! What''s the worst thing that you think could possibly happen to you right now?¡± He choked on his own breath for a second. ¡°Y-Y-You''ll shoot me?¡±

    I looked at him for a second.

    Then I smiled wide.

    That quickly turned into laughter.

    Loud laughter.

    Boy-o-boy, the sounds that came out of this chump! How I wished there were a mirror above that urinal; just to see the look of pure, unbridled horror on his face. He, somehow, managed to stiffen up more than he already was. Kid was scared shitless. He had no idea what I was up to.

    And to be honest, I didn''t either.

    ¡°You poor, innocent sonuvabitch! That''s the best you can come up with?!¡± You know, maybe it was a good thing that there wasn''t a mirror right there; the kid would''ve probably fainted looking at my face at that moment. I''m fairly certain he didn''t think this was all that funny. But me¡ªmy sides threatened to orbit into space. In fact, I nearly dropped Myra onto the floor from laughing so hard! Thankfully, I managed to catch her and reposition her before that could happen. As amusing as I found this situation to be, I knew I needed to calm down or else somebody would come in and see what the commotion was about.

    I used my free hand to hit my chest a couple times in the desperate attempt to halt my laughter.

    My breathing finally was beginning to catch up with me.

    Safe.

    ¡°Kid, there are alotta things worse than me shootin'' you.¡± I got close to him again and whispered into his ear again. ¡°I could bash your face against that urinal, break your fuckin'' teeth¡ªseverely injurin'' the roof of your mouth.¡± He gasped, but I wasn''t quite done yet.

    ¡°I could drag you to that stall over there, jam your head in the crapper, and drown the livin'' shit out of you.¡±

    ¡°I could pistol-whip your fuckin'' head until your brains are nothin'' but mush.¡±

    ¡°I could force you to your knees and make you suck my cock just before knockin'' you down, takin'' off your pants, and savagely tearin'' into your asshole until it prolapses.¡±

    That last one just about made him scream in perfectly reasonable terror. His silent craving to yell for help made me crack up again, though only for a minute this time. ¡°That''s right kid; there are things worse than death that could happen to you today!¡± Myra kissed the back of his head one more time.

    I slid my finger on the trigger and pulled.

    Click!

    No bang; I only had five rounds loaded into my baby as opposed to six.

    Helps avoid an accidental misfire.

    Gun Safety 101, kids!

    Though I''m fairly certain the poor bastard shit himself at that moment in time.

    I patted his shoulder with Myra''s barrel. ¡°But doan you wawrry kid,¡± I said as I stuffed Myra back into my jacket, ¡°I ain''t gonna do any of those things to you.¡± The kid quickly took a deep breath of relief. ¡°S-So you''re gonna let me go?!¡± I smiled wider than I should''ve. ¡°After you answer me this one last question.¡± He nodded very quickly.

    ¡°Just now, when you asked if I was gonna let you go...did I tell you to ask me a question?¡±

    If he didn''t shit himself over Russian Roulette, then he certainly shit himself here.

    ¡°I-I-I¡ªn-n-no¡ª¡±

    I stepped beside him, now looking into his scared baby-face.

    ¡°Numero tre.¡±

    In a flash, I used my body to knock the kid onto the floor. I stood over him and set my foot onto his throat. ¡°H-H-HELLLLL¡ª¡± Before he could properly scream, my foot was stomping hard into his neck.

    Three stomps in, he was choking on the little breaths he could find.

    Seven stomps in, he was spitting up red.

    Eleven stomps in, he was drowning in his own blood.

    Two more and he was done.

    After giving him three more stomps for extra measure, I stepped away from the body. I stared at my handiwork, shaking from the adrenaline rush. ¡°So it is three today,¡± I said aloud to nobody. Indeed it was.

    One.

    One now makes three.

    I knelt down and dipped my right middle and index fingers into the splotches of blood on the floor. Scooping a bit up, I raised my fingers to my mouth and licked them clean. Warm aluminum was the taste; bitter, yet somehow sweet. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I moaned quietly.

    Oh baby, I shouldn''t of done that.

    Any of that.

    And to think, all of this was Paul Sadler''s fault.

    The taste and smell of this kid''s blood drove my senses wild. My own blood was pumping in just about every area of my body. Such a beautiful rush this was. It was great to have control over somebody''s life and their death.

    Call me Lord Death.

    King Genghis the Terrible.

    The Great Khan.

    You must think I''m pretty evil at this point, don''t you? A real creep¡ªfreak of nature. Well...ten points for you; I am all of those things and more. You may be thinking, ¡°Why, Genghis? Why do you insist on playin'' God?¡±

    Honey, I ain''t ¡°playin'' God¡±.

    Playing God is easy; just kill a man. Don''t have to do much else other than that. But I''m doing so much more. To truly take a life, you must be willing to accept a new life and it''s essence. That life you take away becomes a part of you. Once you can kill your first victim and absorb his life force, you taste divinity. Once you realize your true power on this planet, you become unstoppable. Once you use that power, you become God.

    ...

    Though, in this instance, I wasn''t able to enjoy my high as long as I wanted.

    Why?

    Well...because something very fucked up happened at that moment.

    As I was in the middle of losing myself in my post-murder euphoria, something grabbed my arm. The contact jolted me out of my daze. Shit, had somebody walked in on me? Had Paul come back without me hearing? Did somebody call the cops? Was I being taken away?

    No.

    None of that.

    Something much, much worse.

 Chapter Four: Dead Man Talkin

    I''m fairly crazy.

    I got the balls to admit that to you guys.

    I can''t exactly deny it after what I had just done moments earlier.

    ...

    I always knew I was crazy...

    ...but I didn''t know I was this fucking crazy.

    Ol'' browns were like saucers at the sight before me. Sweat seeped out of my palms as my hands shook. My breathing began to come out in rapid successions, as if somebody were squeezing the life out of my lungs. My first reaction was to try pulling away, but that was easier said than done. But how? How?! How can a deadman be so fucking strong?!

    Yeah.

    You read that right.

    The motherfucker who grabbed my arm was the kid that I just killed.

    Very same one.

    For a moment I thought maybe I hadn''t done a thorough enough job at offing him, but only for a short moment. I, Genghis Dillinger Boy, am a perfectionist to the very core. I don''t just do a good job at tasks I have actual interest in doing; I do the best job. When I want to impress somebody, I make damn sure I do something that leaves them speechless. When I want to scare somebody, I rough them up until the very sight of me sends them into hysteria. When I want to kill somebody, I overkill them.

    This kid was dead.

    Dead!

    There ain''t no way I failed in killing this guy.

    No fucking way!

    Blood drooled from his mouth as he stared at me with widened eyes. His fingertips dug real hard into my arm¡ªit was more than likely going to leave a bruise. Once I realized pulling from his grip wasn''t gonna work, I allowed myself to drop to my ass. Once down, I started kicking him as hard as I could.

    Three kicks.

    Nothing.

    Four kicks.

    He ain''t making a sound; not even a grunt.

    Five kicks.

    He''s still staring holes through me.

    I finally said ¡°fuck it¡± and stopped kicking him. Instead, I opted to just try prying him off my arm by pressing my foot into his side. I wanted to shout out him, but my ability to speak had left me temporarily for the second time today. Though this time, it was over a different kind of excitement.

    You know, the kind of excited you get when a goddamn zombie attacks you!?

    After pressing and pushing as hard as I could, his hand finally let go of my arm. Catching my breath, I quickly scooted backward against the wall of the bathroom. At first, he just looked over at me as I did this. He was still lying like a stone on the tiled floor, head lying in a small puddle of his life essence.

    Then the bastard did the unthinkable.

    He stood up.

    First it was slow, raising himself up so he was kneeling. His movements reminded me of an old man trying to get out of bed to see if the garbage man had emptied the trashcan by his mailbox yet. However, as soon as he was facing my direction, he transformed from an old man to a healthy young athlete warming up to run a marathon. While staring me straight in the eye, he lunged at me.

    My heart leaped out of my chest. ¡°SHHH-IT!¡± I managed to squawk out while I reached inside my jacket. He stopped in front of me, close enough for his foot to barely graze my lower leg. I pulled Myra out and pointed her barrel right at his undead face. His facial expression, of course, didn''t change. After all, you often lose the ability to use your muscles when you''re dead.

    He did, however, emit an eardrum-damaging shriek right at me.

    I swallowed hard. Now I knew something otherworldly was happening. This was the kind of shit that happens to you when you''re on a bad acid trip. However, I didn''t use any sort of hard drugs today. I had either lost my entire grasp on reality, or God was proving to me once and for all that he was real. Which answer was more accurate...I wasn''t too sure at this point. It ain''t exactly everyday I get attacked by fucking dead people. But there was one thing I was sure about; times like this, I was incredibly grateful I still had good control over my bladder.

    I cocked Myra''s hammer and readied my finger on the trigger. The kid¡ªor rather what was left of him¡ªslowly lowered his head down a little. He was still looking at me, but I think he was trying to process the gun being pulled on him. Dead people, you know¡ªtheir brains don''t work too good anymore. Takes them a tad longer to realize something is happening.

    Before I knew it, this goddamn corpse was laughing at me.

    I shit you not.

    ¡°Go ahead and shoot, boy. I''m sure the loud bang of a .45 won''t pique anyone''s interest!¡±

    And he was a smart-ass.

    Fucking beautiful.

    ¡°Y-Yeah?¡± was all I was able to get out for the time being. Hey now, don''t you be judging me here. I may be a man of a million words, but even I can''t think of a clever response to say to things like...this thing. I''d love to see you try and drop a bad-ass one-liner on this guy. And before you say ¡°Bruce Campbell could do it, Genghis¡±, remember that that was a goddamn movie. This ain''t no fucking movie, alright?

    ¡°Aww, where''s that sharp tongue of yours now? Did you accidentally swallow it while you sampled the blood of this poor boy?¡± I uneasily cocked an eyebrow at that question. He said ¡°this poor boy¡±. Why would he say that?

    ¡°W-Who are you?¡± I croaked, desperately trying to find my voice again. He cackled loudly, mouth opening wide enough for gobs of blood to drop, splattering on the floor between my legs. ¡°A messenger, boy.¡± Messenger? What did he...oh no.

    Oh hell no.

    Don''t tell me this is some kinda divine intervention bullshit.

    Try and ¡°save me¡± from the path I''m on.

    Fuck that jazz!

    I ain''t gonna have some decaying corpse tell me how to live my life!

    I gritted my teeth at him, growling lowly. ¡°Oh, don''t you be puffing your chest out now. You''re still on the floor, shaking in those shoes of yours!¡± Make one more wiseguy comment, asshole. This trigger finger of mine was aching to get some action. Who cares if somebody reports the shooting? Cops will get their hands on me again when I''m deader than you.

    ¡°What''s your message?¡± I finally was able to say with at least a little confidence. He grinned wide, blood staining my victim''s teeth. He spoke in a casual, but firm tone. ¡°I know what''s in store for you, Genghis.¡±

    He knew my name, too.

    Fantastic.

    ¡°That is your name, is it not? Hard to believe, honestly; nobody in their own right mind would name their child after a blood-thirsty warlord.¡± Right you are, creepy zombie. My old man was never in his own right mind. ¡°You know, it''s often been said that the purpose of one''s life is often found in their name. And you, dear boy, already seem to be well on the path of living up to your name.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Glad he noticed.

    ¡°There is a place for people like you, Genghis Boy. A place where other...unique individuals...live amongst each other.¡± I snorted, nerves starting to die as the acceptance of my own psychosis shined in the horizon. ¡°Lemme guess; it''s Hell, right?¡± This made him wail in laughter once again.

    ¡°Aha! There''s that spirit you possessed earlier!¡± Once his laughter ceased, he shook his head. ¡°Not Hell, boy. That''s reserved for you once you die. You, dear child, still have plenty of years ahead of you. I''m talking about a place here in the now.¡± He waved a hand and, almost immediately, I felt a sharp ache in my forehead.

    The pain forced my eyes closed. Desperate to avoid a misfire, I slid my finger off Myra''s trigger and clutched onto her stock for dear life. My free hand practically glued itself to my hurting temples. ¡°What the hell, man?!¡± I growled through my teeth.

    I didn''t get an answer¡­

    ¡­

    ...from him.

    Though black clouded my vision, I wasn''t completely shrouded in darkness. I did see a light directly in front of me, though it wasn''t very bright. It reminded me of a deserted road. All streetlights had busted bulbs save for one that was flickering like a dying firefly in front of somebody''s house. I felt like this zombie bastard was trying to hint at something within my own mind, but at that moment the blinking light was the last thing I cared about.

    The first thing I cared about was the man with his back to me.

    I couldn''t see his face, but his clothes already told me enough about him. He wore a teal coat that cut off just under his ass. His collar was popped, covering most of the back of his neck. Snazzy guy. I''d seen coats like that that came in all sorts of colors, but teal? He sported black dress pants, though he oddly enough opted to wear matching combat boots as opposed to an overpriced pair of oxfords.

    This combination was interesting. The teal coat told me this guy wanted to show off to the world, but the boots told me that it wasn''t all for show. He wanted to stand out¡ªbe different and recognizable¡ªbut he didn''t want to get that way solely by being pretty. This guy was a fighter, willing to knock a few heads in to get his way.

    To top it all off, he wore one of those fancy black fedoras with the white middle. I ain''t talking about one of those cheap, store-bought fedoras either; I mean one of those big ones that basically every Italian gangster wears in the movies. I would say this guy had a need to shield his face from others as to keep the mystery of his character, but that would completely contradict the point of the teal coat, now wouldn''t it? Nah, this guy wasn''t afraid to show people his face. My guess? He grew up loving the old-timey gangster flicks that his old man hoarded like a junkie. Call this particular choice in fashion a homage to his youth...the few parts of his youth he actually enjoyed, anyway.

    This guy was most definitely in the mob.

    And I identified with him on so many levels that my chest hurt.

    And wouldn''t you know it¡ªbefore I could even think long enough to become obsessed with this man, he turned around to look at me.

    Guess who it was.

    Just fucking guess.

    Under the flickering spotlight inside my head, he flashed me a sly grin¡ªhandsome wink included for no extra charge. He held out a finger and motioned for me to come close. Unable to resist the charms of this sexy beast, I joined him to soak under the electric candle light. He put a hand on my shoulder and I was on Cloud Nine.

    After all, who wouldn''t fall in love with somebody as mesmerizing as Genghis Dillinger Boy?

    Yeah, don''t pretend you didn''t know that that was who I was talking about.

    I looked me in the eye, waiting for any words of wisdom I could take home from this entire experience. I know me too well, apparently; because I then smiled again and mouthed something at myself. Granted, my lips moved way too quickly for me to be able to read them. ¡°What?¡± I asked myself. I repeated the same thing again, this time a little slower. But I still didn''t catch what I was saying.

    ¡°I ain''t followin'',¡± I responded with, confused as to what I was trying to say. I repeated myself again, and this time I was able to make out the word ¡°Casa¡±...but not the rest of it. Casa...home and/or house. I apparently felt like talking to myself in Italian today. No matter, this is what my grandparents on my dad''s side of the family trained me for all those years ago; to be able to have a conversation with myself inside my head. ¡°La casa nostra?¡± I asked myself, only to be met with myself slapping¡ªerr¡ªmy...ugh.

    This shit''s too confusing.

    I''m just gonna to refer to other me as ¡°Genghis Two¡±, alright?

    Genghis Two shook his head and, this time, mouthed the phrase ¡°I ain''t tawlkin'' in Italian, jackass¡± quite clearly. Um, what did he mean ¡°I ain''t tawlkin'' in Italian¡±? Casa is an Italian word! Granted, other European languages probably use it too, but I (he/we) only know two goddamn languages. What was Genghis Two playing at? I groaned loudly and circled my hand around, signaling to him that I was sorta in a fucking hurry and wanted my goddamn answers. I love me, I swear I do; but sometimes I''m kind of a dick.

    Genghis Two sighed. ¡°Alright. Lemme say this one more time so your slow ass can comprehend. Casa...do...Dia?o.¡± I shrugged, now beginning to grill him a little. ¡°The fuck does ¡°Casa do Dia?o¡± mean?¡± He bit his bottom lip, now grilling me. ¡°Does it fuckin'' matter? It''s the only place you can go now!¡±

    Only¡ªwhat?

    ¡°What''re you tawlkin'' about?¡±

    He didn''t respond; he just grilled me for a good while before he finally vanished along with the flickering light into the darkness of my eyelids.

    My own eyes finally opened, but I wasn''t where I expected to be. Well, I mean, I was...but I wasn''t. I was still in the gas station bathroom, but I wasn''t against the wall anymore. Instead, I was now crouching down, holding a wad of bloody paper towels in my right hand. At my feet, I noticed the blood from my victim was completely absent.

    Huh, saves me the cleaning job.

    Quickly, I reached inside my jacket to see if I still had Myra on me. Luckily she was still there, but was she safe? I pulled her out and heavily inspected her. Her hammer was decocked¡ªhallujuah¡ªand, after opening up her cylinder, I saw that none of her shots had been wasted. I stuffed her back into my jacket and sighed in relief; my babygirl was okay.

    Examining my surroundings, I looked around for the freaky corpse douche to see if he was watching me from somewhere. After a moment, I found him on the can. He wasn''t moving any nor was he looking at me; he was just sitting there, still as a statue as his half-open eyes just stared off into space.

    Finally, he was dead like he should''ve been all along.

    But that serenity could only last so long when a knock suddenly sounds on the bathroom door.

    ¡°Um, G-Genghis? You okay, buddy?¡± I nearly choked at hearing Paul''s wimpy voice at the door. I quickly rushed over to the trashcan and threw the bloody paper towels away. ¡°Uh¡ªum¡ªfuck off, Paul. I''m busy!¡± Paul made the hasty response as I practically slid over to the deadman''s stall. ¡°I-I''m sorry, dude! It''s just¡ªHeidi¡ªyou know¡ªshe''s worried. You''ve been in there a while now.¡±

    Heidi.

    Should''ve known.

    ¡°Tell ''er I''ll be out in a second, alright?¡± I shouted as I got on my back, shut the stall door, and reached my hand up to turn the lock. Giving a quiet sigh of relief at the lock connecting successfully, I slid out from the stall and got back to my feet. Paul, always the doting boyfriend, didn''t give up there. ¡°I don''t think she''ll be okay with that answer, dude. She''s really worried about you! Your sister really¡ª¡±

    ¡°Step-sister, Paul,¡± I corrected impatiently, ¡°no blood relation whatsoever. Get it right.¡± I knew Paul wasn''t gonna leave me alone until I came out of that bathroom. So, to make the trip seem at least a little believable, I stepped up to the urinal the kid had used earlier and unzipped. Can''t have me spend all this time in here and then suddenly have to go at the park, right? The lovebirds would get a little too suspicious.

    And boy did I have excellent timing in making this last second decision.

    As soon as I got started, the door came open. I looked over my shoulder and, sure enough, Paul came slowly creeping in to check up on me. I immediately noticed the rolled up tissue in his left nostril. I snickered, proud of my handiwork.

    ¡°Oh, uh...oh. I-I see you are busy,¡± Paul said in response to seeing me. I raised my eyebrows at him, half shrugging. ¡°Yeah. You wanna watch or somethin''?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Um¡ªuh¡ªno, that''s okay. I''ll just, um, tell her you''re finishing up.¡± I lifted one hand up to wave him off.

    As soon as he left, I my hand returned to its original task as I let out a loud sigh of relief. ¡°Eventful¡± wouldn''t even begin to describe the day I''d had so far. Hell, I wasn''t even sure how to describe the feeling I had after all of this! Should I be worried that I''ve completely lost my mind? Should I be curious as to what this mysterious place known as Casa do Dia?o is? Where is it, even? Why ain''t I ever heard of it before? Was this place even real?

    Shit, why am I asking you? You''re probably still shitting yourselves over me killing that kid. You''re probably thinking, ¡°Genghis, you fuckin'' moron. You''re a murderer. Ain''t you at least a little wawrried that you''ll get caught?¡± Eh, the thought''s crossed my mind, sure. But, here''s the thing: I sorta stopped giving a shit about that once a fucking zombie started talking to me. Funny how that works, right?

    I needed the park now more than ever, guys. I had way too much shit speeding through my head. Perhaps a moment''s peace would be enough to get me through the remainder of the day? True, goddamn Paul will probably opt to go to the park with me and Heidi, but so what? Fuck ''im. He''s insanely irrelevant in the long scheme of things.

    Once my stream died, I gave myself two shakes before zipping back up. I walked over to the sink and ran my hands under the warm water for a moment. After turning off the sink, I grabbed a paper towel and dried my hands. Then I left the bathroom to return to Heidi and her boytoy.

    The day is just another day.

    The day is just another day.

 Chapter Five: Voices at the Park

    Fulton Park.

    April 4<sup>th</sup>, 1977.

    My first time ever going.

    I didn''t expect the trip to be anything special; just another public park crowded with screaming children and cantankerous parents craving their next smoke. If anything, I was expecting the absolute worst going in. But boy was I mistaken. What started as an average visit ended up becoming a beautiful experience; an experience I''d never, ever forget. I went in with nothing, but came out with everything I ever wanted and more. I was only eight years old and, even today, I still can''t help but feel intensely happy whenever I step foot into this park.

    Of course, today might be the one exception for obvious reasons.

    The three of us made it to Fulton Park relatively safe. Paul was hacking up his lungs quite a bit whenever I lit up another cigarette. Heidi, of course, gave me an earful over it. She was willing to forgive me for giving her boyfriend a bloody nose, but not for smoking around him. That''s right! We don''t wanna give Paulie cancer, but it''s totally cool if I break his bones.

    Point understood, Heidi.

    I''ll be sure to kick Paul in the ballsack every time I feel the craving for a cigarette.

    Who knows; it may work at making me drop the habit for good!

    ¡°You shouldn''t be smokin'' anyway, Genghis. That shit''s bad for your lungs!¡± You know what''s even worse for your lungs, baby? Contusions, tears, foreign objects, and any kind of bullet. I''m just saying.

    Either way, I snuffed my smoke out upon our arrival. Paul, despite living in New York for a couple of years now, really wanted to stop by the Robert Fulton Statue smack dab in the middle of the park. ¡°It''s a fuckin'' piece of stone dedicated to a guy that built a boat,¡± I told him, aggravation clear in my voice. I had no patience left in me at that moment; I just wanted to relax and forget about literally everything.

    Paul, of course, wanted to try his luck anyway. ¡°Robert Fulton''s steamboat was the first to successfully transfer people from one part of the country to another. You understand how much that changed the world and helped us move forward in America''s technological advancements?¡± I growled loudly at him as Heidi put her hand on my shoulder. ¡°Let Paul look at the statue, Genghis. He ain''t been here as much as you.¡± I rolled my eyes and stuffed my hands into the outside pockets of my jacket. So Paul oooh''ed and aww''ed over Robert Fulton for a good five minutes before he was ready to move on.

    Mindless tourist.

    When I was finally allowed to enjoy the park, Heidi walked in the middle with me to her left and Paul to her right. They chatted and I found myself staring off at the trees behind the long row of benches along the path. The air was brick, but the Autumn atmosphere was enough to make me care a little less. Christmas might''ve been close, but not close enough for the beautiful orange and red leaves to be replaced with snow. After all, it was only the second day of December; gotta at least be a week in before people started obsessing about seeing the first snowflake on their windshields.

    The first time I ever came to Fulton Park, the air was warm, but breezy. The flowers and trees teemed with Springtime delight. Pollen was always a pain in the ass, but what can you do about that? I used to be sensitive to it way back then. I must''ve sneezed a billion times that day; ain''t no telling how many times my old man smacked me in the back of the head for it. It ain''t as bad now, but I do sometimes have sneezing fits if there''s too much pollen in the air.

    ¡°Must be nice being able to sneeze. Some people can''t do that anymore.¡±

    Huh?

    What the hell?

    Where''d that thought come from?

    Quickly shaking my head, I tried to disregard...whatever that was.

    While in the middle of my thoughts, I felt Heidi''s hand gently wrap itself around my arm. I didn''t look at her, but I did genuinely smile at her touch. I may get pissed at her sometimes for her constant nagging and worrying, but I''d be lying if I said I didn''t appreciate any of it. All she did was touch my arm, but it was enough to tell me that she hadn''t forgotten why we came here in the first place. Most of the time when Paul''s around, she just sorta forgets about me. Even as she was holding onto my arm, I just knew her other hand was lovingly intertwined with his.

    I got it.

    I really did.

    But that didn''t make it suck any less.

    ¡°Why would she ever love a murderer like you?¡±

    Criminy, there was that voice in my head again. Who the fuck was invading my headspace now? Didn''t I get enough of that at the gas station?! I shook my head again, just trying to tell myself it''s just in my head. The voice ain''t real.

    The voice ain''t real.

    The voice ain''t real.

    The voice ain''t real.

    ¡°Genghis, you alright?¡± Heidi''s voice jolted me out of my racing thoughts. I looked at her, trying my damnedest to keep my calm. ¡°Yeah, I''m good. Just, uh...head hurts a little. That''s all.¡± She looked at me for a second and offered me a gentle smile. ¡°Why don''t we sit down? Maybe a little rest will help you.¡± I faked a smile back at her. ¡°Yeah, that''s a good idea. You know where I like to sit.¡±

    She giggled.

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    With that, I led the two through the row of benches and into the grass. The sound of fallen leaves crunching under my shoes calmed my nerves a little. However, I knew the peace wouldn''t last. After all, sensory stimulants can only do so much for you when your mind is actively working against you.

    Paul made some kind of joke about ignoring the benches, but his joke was largely ignored by both me and Heidi. Hard wooden planks that are covered in bird shit ain''t exactly my idea of a pleasant place to rest my ass. Besides, it was too far in the open. Public seats may be a convenience, but at the cost of having every nosy bastard in the city stare holes through you. It would be one thing if people looked at me because they thought I was the most handsome sonuvabitch they ever laid eyes on. But in the case of public parks? People always¡ªalways¡ªlook at me like I committed the worst felony of all time.

    That felony?

    Sitting on a goddamn bench.

    Besides, I liked this one particular patch of grass the best. The downside to Fulton Park is that no matter where you go, you can always see the street on the outside. But, you can still find a place where the street ain''t so busy. For me, that would be under this small group of Pin Oaks framing Chauncey Street. Sure, you had a lot of parked cars outside being eye sores, but that was because of all the apartments neighboring the park. People came and went, but it never bothered me none so long as they kept to themselves. It was the perfect spot; it was my spot.

    Once we found the spot, I sat against my tree and rested my head against the trunk. Despite the hard wood of the Pin Oak, I was always able to get reasonably comfortable in this position. More often than not, these trips always resulted in me taking a nap against this very tree. I ain''t had too many troubles with bozos trying to rob me while I slept. The very few that tried something got a .45 pointed at their faces.

    Wrapping my arms into my jacket, I hummed quietly. Heidi must''ve heard me, though; her cutesy little giggle that she does made that abundantly clear. I looked up at her and smiled. ¡°Thanks for this,¡± I told her earnestly.

    She sat beside me against the tree. ¡°It was nothin'',¡± she said as she wrapped her arms around me, ¡°Anythin'' to help, you know?¡± Heidi rested her head on my left shoulder, her pretty hazel eyes now closed. The sudden closeness made my heart pound inside my chest, but I tried to not make it too obvious. Of course, it didn''t stop me from giving Paul an overly smug look.

    That''s right, Paul.

    I got your girl now.

    Whatcha gonna do about it, huh?

    The wimp just laughed. ¡°Glad to see you in a happier mood, my man. A smile suits you much better than that scowl you always seem to be wearing!¡± Oh I bet it does, you babbling cuck. ¡°Would you be sayin'' that if I hadn''t snuffed you in the snotlocker?¡± Heidi lightly smacked my chest. ¡°Play nice, you. He''s just tryin'' to help.¡±

    He can help by getting the fuck out of here.

    ¡°Whatever,¡± I grumbled as my eyes closed against the Pin Oak. Finally, time for some relaxation. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Quickly, I began the process of tuning out the outside world. Usually one or two things would always come through, but it ain''t too bad.

    ¡°He seems calm now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, thank God.¡±

    ¡°Relax all you want. It won''t change your future.¡±

    Annnd of course the voice has to return.

    Of course.

    Day one of crazy hallucinations and I''m already annoyed. I was gonna have to pacify this thing before it got the best of me. ¡°Who are you and why are you fuckin'' with me?¡± I said inside my head. The voice laughed in response. I wasn''t sure if I should''ve been relieved that I was gonna get answers, or scared that I''d really gone off the deep end.

    ¡°We already met before, you idiot. Remember? In the men''s room?¡± See, that was a trick question. I met like three people in that bathroom. It couldn''t be the kid talking to me because he was too much of a fearful little kitten to ever say this kind of shit to me. That really just left Zombie Bastard and Genghis Two.

    ¡°So Heidi...have you put more thought into my question?¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°I''ve been thinkin'', Paul. And I just...don''t know.¡±

    ¡°Why? What''s got you conflicted?¡±

    ¡°Why are you fuckin'' with me?¡± I repeated, ¡°surely this ain''t all because I killed somebody.¡± The voice was silent for a moment, and then sighed heavily. ¡°Do all humans have such poor short-term memory? Do you remember nothing about what I told you less than an hour ago?¡± I growled heavily in my thoughts. ¡°All you told me was that there''s a place I can go to called Casa do Dia?o, which I doubt even exists, to tell you the truth.¡± The voice growled back at me. ¡°Why on Earth would I be lying to you, boy? Just how often do reanimated corpses materialize before your very eyes?!¡±

    Yerp, this ain''t Genghis Two.

    ¡°Listen here, you dead sonuvabitch,¡± I started fiercely, ¡°I ain''t got time to lose my mind. My current level of crazy is comfortable enough for me to function. I doan need you muckin'' things up for me, got it?¡± The voice cackled again. ¡°You did that to yourself when you decided to be reckless and kill an innocent boy.¡± Oh boy, was I getting tired of him repeating that over and over. ¡°So the hell what?! It ain''t the first time I''ve killed, Buck-O. Why is this time such a big deal?¡±

    Yeah, it''s true.

    ¡°I dunno, Paul...we''re just so young. Should we really be thinkin'' about marriage right now?¡±

    I''ve killed before today.

    ¡°We''re in love, aren''t we? Isn''t that all we need?¡±

    Two other people, to be exact.

    ¡°D''eres a lot more to marriage than that, Paul.¡±

    I won''t bore you with all the details, so I''ll just summarize.

    I was fifteen years old when Benny Murray and Jason Frisk were slain by my bullets. I got invited to this big house party just a couple blocks from my apartment. The host was this college guy named Steve, and he got his kicks by selling drugs to minors. Naturally, I went and got my fill of all the blow and horny girls I could get my hands on. Until, at one point, I heard a girl crying for help. I, high as a kite, felt like I was fucking invincible and decided to be this broad''s Superman. I found her being forced onto the ground by Benny and Jason, one removing her skirt and the other squeezing her right breast. Without hesitation, I yanked Myra out and shot the two bastards. The stupid bitch called the cops on me for killing the guys rather than just beating them up. Luckily, I had time to bolt home and hide Myra before the cops came knocking.

    Shows what happens to you when you try to help.

    I didn''t get sent to Rikers primarily due to my age, but I was forced to undergo psychological treatment. Spoiler alert, it worked similarly to how shouting ¡°Open Sesame!¡± often works when trying to open doors. But I digress; the point is that I''ve done this shit before. It ain''t no new thing to me.

    Benny Murray made one.

    Jason Frisk made two.

    And now, five years later, the kid from the gas station makes three.

    ¡°Everybody makes mistakes, Genghis Boy. The only two options for handling said mistakes is to either learn from it and never do it again, or let it shape who you are. You, clearly, made your decision to continue down this grisly path. You''re not a minor anymore; the NYPD won''t pity you for your upbringing this time. As far as they''re concerned, you''re just another scumbag who deserves to rot behind bars. I''m offering you a way out. A way out of this hole you''ve dug yourself into. You''d be wise to accept my offer, lest your life end prematurely.¡±

    I bit my lip, not willing to give in to this mumbo-jumbo. ¡°You still ain''t told me where this place even is. How am I supposed to go there when I doan know where to look?¡± It was honestly a good point I made, if I do say so myself. Gotta ask just the right questions during times like this, know what I mean? After all, a large part of me was still inclined to believe that this entire situation was nothing more than me having a fairly moderate psychotic episode, leftover from earlier. But I was gonna pull out of this mess by myself. I don''t need anybody''s help; especially not some zombie dick''s.

    ¡°Boy, you''ll only know where to look once you accept this all as truth. Until then, it will only serve to drive you even more mad. Best just make it easier on you now and accept this destiny that''s been set up for you.¡± I shook my head again, very much finished with this conversation. ¡°Blow me. I ain''t goin'' to your bullshit fantasy world.¡±

    He growled one more time.

    ¡°You''ll come around eventually. Humans are naturally curious folk. Let''s just hope by the time your interest is piqued, it isn''t too late for you.¡±

    With that, I felt his presence disappear from my system.

    And I immediately opened my eyes, returning to the outside world.

    ¡°...and so, it took my parents a while to get married, too. So I completely understand where you''re coming from, Heidi.¡± Heidi smiled and kissed his cheek. ¡°Thank you, Paul. That means alot to me.¡± He gave her a wink¡ªa proper wink, this time. ¡°Anything for my girl, right?¡±

    I cocked at eyebrow at the lovebirds.

    Aye yai yai, ain''t they glad I wasn''t involved in that conversation.

    Don''t need to make it four today, right?

    ¡°Am I interruptin'' somethin'' here?¡± I interjected coldly. The two looked over at me. Heidi looked reasonably uncomfortable and Paul looked outright nervous. Good, I wanted that reaction from them. Heidi needed to remember that I still existed and Paul needed to remember not to cross the line.

    ¡°No, just tawlkin'',¡± Heidi responded rather hastily. I gave Paul a look and he swallowed hard. ¡°You know, I need to go tinkle really quick.¡± He stood up and backed away from the growling junkyard dog sitting beside his woman. ¡°I''ll be back in a moment.¡± And with that, Paul walked away with a fairly brisk pace. I kept my eye on him, making sure he was far enough away before speaking to Heidi.

    ¡°I hate that sonuvabitch,¡± I announced.

    She sighed heavily, eyes lowering a bit.

    ¡°He knows you do, Genghis. He knows.¡±

    At the moment, I couldn''t think of a proper response to her. How could I? The day was anything but boring, but in all the wrong ways¡ªmostly. My head was a cluttered pig sty.

    I know what you''re probably thinking. ¡°Genghis, you need to tell Heidi what''s goin'' on.¡± I''m gonna give you guys a giant ¡°FUCK YOURSELF¡± to that suggestion, alright? The first time word got out that I was a killer, it tore her heart to pieces. Even after explaining why I did it, she still refused to speak to me for two long, grueling months. She eventually came around, sure...but she made me promise I''d never do it again.

    I did a damn good job at keeping that promise...until today.

    So yeah, getting Heidi involved in this ain''t a goddamn option.

    I only had two possible choices to choose from in this predicament. One choice was to ignore everything and keep my dwindling sanity under wraps as much as humanly possible. That meant no more hurting people, no more crime, and especially no more killing. Perhaps I could take Heidi''s advice and get myself a job that will keep me too busy to obsess over particular thoughts. Take the chance to become an honest, law-abiding citi¡ªokay, I almost got through that one without cracking up. Give me a little credit, alright?

    I didn''t feel like I''d get figured out by the NYPD. I was sure to avoid touching the kid with my hands, so my prints shouldn''t be anywhere on the body...that I know of. I did blackout and wake up to find the body already in a stall. Did Zombie Bastard put him there or did I? Surely Zombie Bastard, right? I also didn''t assault him sexually, so they won''t be able to find any stains of mine on him. As far as I know, there weren''t any cameras in the gas station. As for witnesses...

    Okay, I did make a scene by punching out Paul.

    Yeah yeah.

    That could possibly fuck me over.

    But without any proof that I killed this kid, the police ain''t got shit on me.

    But then, there was choice number two: embrace the wild thoughts in my head. Zombie Bastard had good points, as much as I hated to admit it. As confident as I was that I''d get away with murder, there was always the possibility that I''d get caught. I mean, I got caught the last time, too. Then again, I was younger, dumber, and out of my head on Charlie.

    But what if, you know?

    What if?

    But really, I needed to stop thinking about this crock of shit. Zombie Bastard mentioned this would drive me mad, so I ain''t gonna give him the satisfaction of being right. Fuck ''im! I''m my own man. Nobody forges my destiny but me!

    I needed to move on.

    Forget about what could be and just focus on what is.

    And I knew just the way.

    Escaping from my thoughts, I looked over at Heidi. She was off in her own little world, too. No doubt I was on her mind, keeping her fairly on edge. I hated that she always felt this way. Don''t get me wrong, I loved having her to myself. At the same time, though, I just knew I was a massive drain on her. Always having to justify my actions to others, be there when I was having an episode, find new ways to channel my inner happiness...I knew I didn''t show her the amount of appreciation that she deserved.

    I decided to break her out of her thoughts by gently rubbing my stubble against her cheek. It worked like a charm and she gave me her cute giggle once again. ¡°Genghis, that tickles!¡± She turned to look at me with those gorgeous hazels. Naturally, with no Paul around to stop me, I leaned in and gave her a kiss.

    Yeah, don''t act like you''re shocked or anything.

    Before you ask, three out of the five years her and Paul have been together.

    She gave me a quick kiss back and pulled away. ¡°Genghis, you know we can''t do this when Paul''s around.¡± I waggled my eyebrows at her. ¡°I doan see him. Do you?¡± She giggled, but more than likely over my eyebrows rather than at my point. ¡°He''ll be back any minute, you know.¡± I grinned, leaning back in for another kiss.

    ¡°Then I gotta make this quick then, don''t I?¡± My lips pressed themselves into hers, my tongue teasing her bottom lip. She moaned faintly to the sensation, now cupping my face with her hand. I placed my index and middle fingers against her neck and lightly dragged them along her jawline.

    The added touch made her moaning a little more audible. Of course, this was the benefit of having been intimate with somebody for as long as we had been. You kinda learn every little touch and saying that gets their motor running. And, in turn, they learn the same thing about you.

    For example, when Heidi bit my bottom lip, she knew exactly what she was doing. And judging by my increased heart rate as well as the moan that escaped from my vocal chords, I''d say her purpose was fulfilled. I pulled away and planted a kiss on her neck. ¡°I can play that game too, baby,¡± I said in a breathy voice.

    I leaned up to her ear and brought out the big guns to this party.

    ¡°Sei tutto per me.¡±

    She whined quietly. ¡°Genghis, you know what that does to me!¡± I chuckled darkly. ¡°Good. That just makes it easier to fulfill my purpose.¡± I kissed her neck again, which led to a short series of ¡°Question & Answer¡±.

    ¡°What purpose is that?¡±

    I gnawed on her earlobe.

    ¡°To win a bet.¡±

    ¡°A bet with who?¡±

    ¡°Myself.¡±

    ¡°And what bet is that?¡±

    I grinned deviously against her ear as my answer came out in a quiet rasp.

    ¡°To make you cum before Paul gets back.¡±

 Chapter Six: Settling a Bet

    The faint fragrance of strawberry coming from her hair drove me crazy. The taste of her birthday cake-flavored lip gloss always had me in ecstasy. The sounds that came out of her when she was feeling frisky were music to my ears. The softness of her skin reminded me of an extra soft throw blanket.

    Mmm...blanket. Children often carry blankets around in order to ¡°feel safe¡± from the monster living under their beds. Monsters often ain''t satisfied with just sitting in one place for too long, so the kid knows to always watch their back. They take the blanket with them everywhere they go; school, grocery store, daycare¡ªyou get the picture. The little squirt refuses to drop the blanket for any particular reason. Their parents get annoyed when they bring it to the dinner table. Their teachers get annoyed when they refuse to leave it in their backpacks during class. Other kids laugh and say only babies still carry around blankets. Nobody understands, but to the kid, that blanket is everything to them. They call it their ¡°security blankie¡±. I might be a tough guy, but every now and then I needed to feel safe and loved, too. Heidi was my security; my safe haven from the mad world on the outside.

    My security blankie that Paul needed to quit taking away from me.

    Upon my declaration, she pushed me away. ¡°Genghis, can that wait until we get home? Paul just left to go piss; it ain''t like he had to go home to pick up toilet paper or anythin''.¡± I gave her a sly grin and nodded towards the direction Paul had walked in. ¡°Paul doan know where the bathrooms are. It''ll take him a while to find them, piss, and then walk all the way back here.¡± She gave me a look teeming with doubt. ¡°And what if he comes back to ask you where they''re at?¡±

    Dammit, she had a point.

    ¡°I''ll keep watch.¡±

    She crossed her arms against her stone-washed denim jacket and cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Will you now? Will you really?¡± My teeth ground into my bottom lip. I wanted to tell her to shut up the hell up about Paul and just enjoy the dirty things I was gonna do to her. But instead, I chuckled and took her face in my hands. ¡°Trust me, alright?¡± I whispered as I planted another kiss on her lips. She sank into my kiss for about five seconds before she realized what she was doing and pulled away again. ¡°Genghis, we really shouldn''t. Not here.¡± I groaned loudly. From the moment I kissed her the first time, I knew she was gonna try fighting me on this. But was she fighting because she truly didn''t want it, or because Paul didn''t want it?

    ¡°Heidi, the more you argue, the less time we''ll have until he actually does come back!¡± She bit her lip; whether it was out of frustration or frustration, I wasn''t too sure. However, I intended to find out.

    So I looked into her eyes intently and placed a hand over her heart. I then leaned in to whisper more Italian magic into her ear. ¡°Tu sei il mio piccolo amore.¡± As quick as a finger snap, her heart pounded something fierce. She bit harder on her lip as to trap the sounds threatening to come out.

    Oh yeah, I had her figured out alright.

    ¡°Forget about him, baby. Just let me take care of you.¡±

    She let out an odd mixture of a moan and whine.

    ¡°Geng¡ª¡±

    I shut her up by kissing her again. My left arm wrapped itself around her upper back, hand pushing her a little closer. She finally surrendered and placed her hands on my chest. I gave myself a mental pat on the back. Victory was mine; Paul wouldn''t keep her from me this time. Now it was time for me¡ªand her¡ªto claim our rewards.

    I smiled against her lips as my right hand untucked her white top. Heidi shuttered with delight when she felt my palm rub her smooth stomach. She bit my lip again, which might''ve excited me a little too much. My pace turned from gentle to urgent in an instant. I growled into her kiss as my hand gave her right breast a nice but rather rough squeeze.

    Hoo mama, the reaction that got me!

    Her yelps of pleasure were luckily all muffled in our kiss. My breathing grew a tad louder when she proceeded to gnaw on my bottom lip like a termite. Testing my luck, I teased the hard nipple hiding behind her bra with my thumb. Following suit, she reached down in my lap and felt around. Once she found what she was looking for, she caressed the bulge that ran down my left thigh.

    I chuckled, pushing her hand away. ¡°You can work on me later, babygirl. This is all about you for now.¡± Taking advantage of the quick breather, I looked around to see if I could see the herb skipping merrily on his way back. When I didn''t see him, I began unbuttoning Heidi''s jeans.

    Honestly, a part of me wanted Paul to walk by and see what was happening. His stupid smile would be wiped clean off his ugly mug. Their doomed relationship would end. Heidi would finally be mine. But alas, Heidi would never forgive me if I allowed that to happen. ¡°What happens...happens. Just lemme handle it,¡± she always told me.

    Three years later, here we are.

    Still making love in secret.

    So much for ¡°handlin'' it¡±, Heidi.

    After unzipping her, I slid my hand into her pants. By instinct, she spread her legs just enough for me to have easy access. Reaching down to the area between her legs, I could feel the dampness of her underwear. Women have it lucky when it comes to arousal. They can be hornier than a fucking bull but nobody would be able to tell unless they just bluntly told someone. Men, on the other hand? Yeah, we''re screwed. Ain''t no way we can hide how horny we are. Well, I mean, we can...but nine times out of ten it''s still painfully obvious to anybody with a knack for thorough observation.

    Or, you know, anybody with a brain.

    I chuckled darkly and leaned my face over to her ear. ¡°I see you''re enjoyin'' yourself.¡± She responded with a quiet ¡°Mmhmm¡±. ¡°How''s about I¡ªuh¡ªstrofinati la clitoride?¡± She gasped loudly; she don''t know Italian, but the last word sounded too much like another word for her to get confused. I slid my fingers up. Once I found the little bulb over her opening, I let my fingers get to work.

    Cue the mad loud moaning.

    I had to quickly kiss her in order for her to be properly muzzled. Even then, her body sure as hell wasn''t silenced. Heidi grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled hard. I muzzled my yelp of pain by biting into her lip. She didn''t pull any hairs out luckily, but Christ did it hurt. Not that I''m complaining or anything; I found love and pain to be a delicious combination most of the time.

    It''s just that this made my Paul Watch duties a lot more difficult. I mean, have you ever watched for a woman''s boyfriend while you were in the middle of pleasuring her? It''s a lot harder than it sounds! There''s all sorts of factors that could get in the way of you properly watching for Captain Buzzkill. You could get sucked in to the moment and forget you were supposed to be watching for him, she could be one of those loud girls who loved letting the world know how good you made her feel, or¡ªyou know¡ªshe could yank chunks of your hair from your fucking scalp.

    Twirling my fingertips in little circles, I quickly pulled away from her lips just long enough to see if Paul was in the distance anywhere. I stopped my movements for a second when I saw somebody coming. It wore white and was slowly walking down the path. However, as the figure got a little closer, I could see it wasn''t Paul at all, but some old lady. I sighed with relief and continued my work.

    ¡°Such a good girl,¡± I whispered to her as my pace quickened, ¡°reactin'' so nicely to my touch.¡± She bit into her lip, trying her damnedest to be quiet. My tongue teased her lip again just before I shoved my hand into her panties. Her underground fortress was feeling awfully humid at that moment; took my hand about thirty seconds to break into a sweat. I traced her opening with my index finger just before sliding it and my middle finger in.

    The look on her face made me chuckle a little.

    ¡°Oh Genghis, hurry!¡± she moaned through clenched teeth. I kissed her real quick. ¡°Of course.¡± And with that, I pounded my fingers in and out of her like a boxer training for his big match. Her toes curled in her shoes, her head jerked around, and she beautifully sang the Hymn of Satisfaction that I so enjoyed hearing on any given day. It was times like these that I was doubtful that her and Paul ever actually had sex. As much as I wanted to believe I was just that damn good at pleasing women, it seemed much more likely that Paul was just a prude who was never quite in the mood whenever she was. Or, if he did want sex, his methods of getting it were much too vanilla for her liking.

    She began chanting my name like a mantra. First it was quiet, but then it got increasingly louder. I don''t know how she managed, but her voice somehow managed to excite my body more than it already was. A woman''s touch without the literal touch.

    ¡°You keep that up Heidi, you''ll be gettin'' somethin'' bigger than these fingers later.¡± She threw her head back and looked at me with hungry eyes. ¡°Is that a threat, tough guy?¡± I winked, now ramming my fingers into her harder. ¡°It''s a promise.¡±

    A promise I would have to fulfill later, unfortunately.

    In the corner of my eye, I could finally see Paul making his way back towards us.

    ¡°Fix your clothes,¡± I said as my hand came flying out of her pants. She quickly zipped, buttoned, and tucked in her shirt. I took a moment to enjoy her scent on my fingers before deciding to enjoy the taste, as well. She gave me a look once she noticed I had my fingers in my mouth. Not a bad look, mind you; she was used to seeing this by now.

    Once Paul got back, I withdrew my fingers and repositioned myself so my knees were up to my chest. ¡°Sorry I was gone so long, you guys. Got into a conversation with this gentlemen just outside the restrooms. He served in Vietnam, how cool is that?¡± Heidi gave him an uneasy smile and I snorted. ¡°Yeah sure, nothin'' like losin'' a war and then havin'' to come home a loser.¡±

    Paul gave me a look, hinting vaguely at minor annoyance. Good; starting something with him could, at least, help my blood flow back to my brain as opposed to a certain area reserved for Heidi. ¡°That''s such an age old mindset, Genghis. It''s nearly 1990¡ªthe end of an era! Can we try to move past this defeatist mentality and start over by appreciating just how many sacrifices our armed forces have made for us?¡± I cracked up, amused by his attempts to now grow a pair after a day of being suffocated by cigarette smoke, punched in the face, scared into needing a bathroom break, and having his woman be finger-fucked behind his back.

    ¡°Paulie, we sent thousands of men and women to die over a war we had no business gettin'' involved in. It was literally politicians jerkin'' off over ¡°the reds¡± that got us there in the first place. People got drafted to fight, people died, people came back scared of their own shadows.¡± I crossed my arms, giving him a deadass stare. ¡°They mighta sacrificed a lot for us, pal...but their sacrifices were all in vain. Every single one of them.¡±

    Paul glared at me, finally sick of my shit. ¡°Your own father fought in that war, Genghis. Show a little respect.¡± I laughed even harder. ¡°No he didn''t. My uncle Paolo? He fought in the Vietnam War and got his ass done in by a shrapnel blast to the fuckin'' face. My old man? He was assigned an office gig during the war¡ª¡°Sole Survivor¡± shit and all. When he found out he wasn''t gonna fight, he went nuts on his commandin'' officer and was dishonorably discharged from the military.¡±

    Paul threw his arms up, likely signifying that I had won this stupid little debate. ¡°Whatever man¡ªjust remember that those soldiers went to defend their country. They''re heroes.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Ain''t nothin'' heroic ''bout¡ª¡±

    Heidi smacked me in the back of the head. ¡°That''s enough, Genghis. Now''s not the time or place for this discussion.¡± I rubbed the spot she hit, grumbling about how Paul started it. After a moment, I looked at her and mouthed the words, ¡°Did I win?¡± She looked confused. ¡°The bet.¡± She gave me a look indicating that her memory had caught up with her. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    The herb, meanwhile, looked up at the sky. ¡°Anywho, it''s getting kind of late. Did you guys drive to the soup kitchen?¡± Heidi patted my shoulder. ¡°This asshole did, yeah.¡± Her insult got a laugh out of the boy scout and a satisfied grin out of me. ¡°Why don''t I walk you guys back to the car? By the time we reach the soup kitchen, it will be dark out.¡± We stood up at the same time, but both to declare different things.

    ¡°We doan need your help.¡±

    ¡°We''d love that!¡±

    I grilled Heidi big time as she took Paul''s hand once again. He kissed her on the mouth and they both looked at me. ¡°C''mon, Genghis. Let''s go!¡± I glared holes through the both of them.

    Funny to think that just five minutes ago, I was making her squirm and moan to my touch. Now, here she is in his arms once again. I wanted to take his hand and break his fucking wrist, but it has always been like this. I give her a mind-blowing fuck and then she immediately runs off to be with her loverboy. She was his before she was mine. He won her over with love and I won her over with lust. I was never gonna be anything more to her than some free dick she could ride whenever Paul wasn''t able to get it up for her.

    Some guys would be okay with this.

    Some guys wouldn''t be okay with this.

    Some guys would rather have something than nothing.

    And so I followed the lovebirds back to the soup kitchen.

    You already know which guy I am.

    I remained quiet during the walk back to the soup kitchen, trailing slowly behind the loving couple. Well¡ªokay¡ªmostly quiet. The only point of the walk where my nerves were shot was when we came across the gas station again. I had hoped it wouldn''t be until the morning when they discovered a body in the bathroom, but luck wasn''t on my side tonight. Cop cars all around, lights flashing, yellow tape barricading the building. All sorts of people were huddled around the crime scene, oohing and awwing.

    Paul, unfortunately, just so happened to be one of those interested bystanders.

    ¡°Get back here!¡± I squawked as he went sprinting over toward the gas station. Heidi stayed behind with me, watching the situation with moderate concern. We both saw Paul tug on the sleeve of a rather lanky officer surveying the area. He looked at Paul and the boy scout exchanged words with him. The officer then looked over in our direction. I immediately looked away to pull a cigarette from my pocket. Heidi smacked my arm, murmuring something about how bad smoking is for me. I ignored the living shit out of her and lit up. Once the officer finished exchanging his own words, Paul nodded and ran back over to us.

    ¡°Well? What''s goin'' on?¡±

    Paul stopped in front of her, big frown on his mug.

    ¡°Somebody was murdered.¡±

    Her eyes widened like UFO saucers.

    ¡°Murdered? How? Why?!¡±

    He shook his head.

    ¡°They don''t know. They haven''t been able to find any discernible clues yet.¡±

    She put a hand over her mouth.

    ¡°My god.¡±

    Now it was her turn to shake her head.

    ¡°Why do sickos like this get to run around? Why ain''t they behind bars?¡±

    I bit my lip and looked over at the crime scene. The kid''s wallet burned inside my jacket. I had all the evidence the cops needed. I had the murder weapon attached to my fucking body. I was the sicko Heidi was speaking so poorly about. I took a long drag on my smoke and blew it toward the gas station. The sooner I could get away from this place, the better off I''d be. ¡°I''m sure they''ll get the bastard, Heidi,¡± I said halfheartedly. After my piece, I walked ahead of the lovebirds. After a minute of walking, I turned to see them not following me. They were still too busy staring at the gas station.

    ¡°C''mon, Romeo and Juliet. Let''s go!¡±

    They looked over at me and quickly nodded before joining me.

    Paul''s prediction about it getting dark by the time we reached the soup kitchen was correct. Granted, it wasn''t so late that my shit brown SJ was the only vehicle in the parking lot. If I had to guess, it was about 6:30 or 7:00 in the evening. The soup kitchen staff were probably wrapping things up and getting ready to go home themselves.

    Paul kissed Heidi goodbye and announced that he''d call her sometime tomorrow.

    And then he was gone.

    At last, it was just us again.

    I fished for my car keys in my front pocket. After pulling them out, I unlocked my driver''s side door and then walked around to unlock Heidi''s door. We both entered the ''82 Jeep and buckled up. She looked at me and smiled. ¡°So...what a day, huh?¡± I grunted in response as I cranked up the engine. Once the motor was running, I backed out of the parking lot and drove out into the road, home-bound.

    Rob Halford''s voice appeared on the radio as he sang about how he was always watching us. ¡°I''m made of metal, my circuits gleam...I am perpetual; I keep the country clean!¡± Normally I''d be rocking out to the hard tunes playing on my radio, but not tonight. Not with a gazillion cop cars patrolling the area in search of that boy''s killer; in search of me.

    It was a fucking parade of boys in blue combing the streets that night. You''d swear, the way they were acting, I killed some kind of big name celebrity. I didn''t; this schmuck was just some kid. That was all. I still had yet to even hear anybody refer to this kid as anything other than ¡°Somebody¡±.

    After about the seventh near-miss with a goddamn squad car, I began angrily beating my hands into my steering wheel. ¡°Sonuva¡ªwatch the motherfuckin'' road, asshole!¡± Heidi put a hand in my lap. ¡°Genghis, calm down! They''re busy tonight.¡± Growling loudly, I made a sharp turn into the nearest parking lot I could find; which just so happened to be Walmart. I parked at the very back on the lot and killed the engine. I just sat in silence for a couple of moments, trying to calm down. Heidi rubbed my shoulder, trying to comfort me in an unspoken manner. She meant well, but alas she''d never be able to take this feeling out of me.

    The feeling of impending doom.

    Dread.

    Pessimism.

    They had no clues. They knew something was wrong. They knew a kid was dead. But they ain''t got the slightest clue who it could''ve been that offed him. That''s why they''re going crazy on the streets. They''re desperate. They don''t want people to realize just how incompetent the NYPD truly is. They''re looking for something¡ªanything¡ªthat gets their asses out of the frying pan.

    Zombie Bastard ain''t gonna have this one.

    No sir.

    The cops will never find me.

    Never.

    Trying to shake my thoughts, I looked over at Heidi. She offered me a timid smile. ¡°You okay, tough guy?¡± I cocked an eyebrow at her. She had called me ¡°tough guy¡± again. Last time she called me that, I had made her a promise. A sexy promise, at that.

    Hmmm.

    In my car, nobody cared how loud we were.

    First I unclicked my seat belt.

    Then I unclicked hers.

    It''s a hundred times better than waking up the two boring men at home.

    ¡°Better now that you''ve reminded me,¡± I answered as I leaned in to kiss her lips. With no Paul around to make her second guess herself, Heidi jumped right into my arms. Our tongues danced the night away while our hands fought to remove one another''s jacket. Her jacket slid off her arms and fell behind her and my jacket ended up being gently placed in the back of my SJ.

    Her hands slid under my shirt and up to my torso. She kneaded her fingers into my somewhat hairy chest, making my eyes threaten to return to the back of my head. I leaned to whisper more foreign words into her ear. ¡°Ti scoper¨° fino a farti esplodere di piacere.¡± She bit my bottom lip as she worked to remove my shirt. I broke the kiss long enough for her to get it over my head and into the back along with my jacket.

    A little too eagerly, I began to fumble with my belt buckle. She giggled with anticipation and then proceeded to kiss hard into my neck. I began moaning the second she started biting into my flesh. ¡°Yeah baby...oh¡ªmark me, baby,¡± I begged loudly. She smiled against my neck and did as she was told. Shaking with arousal, I nearly ripped the zipper off my jeans with how hard I yanked it.

    ¡°Succhiami il cazzo!¡± I gasped whenever she started to roughly suck on my neck flesh. I quickly freed my cock from the uncomfortable confines of my jeans. She quit kissing my neck to look into my lap. She smiled and leaned down.

    At first, all went well. Her lips fit nicely around me and she sucked at an easy pace. I didn''t expect her to go very fast, considering how uncomfortable it''s made her in the past. I ain''t a guy that typically brags about his size...but let''s just say Heidi''s given me the nickname ¡°Jawbreaker¡± on more than one occasion.

    I let my eyes close and my head fall back against the headrest of my seat. My fingers pulled the hair tie out of her hair, destroying the ponytail once and for all. I tossed the black hair tie in the back and rest my right hand on the back of her head. My left hand held on to the steering wheel for leverage.

    But with every good moment comes at least one downside. Even with my eyes closed, I could still hear the police sirens outside in the streets. They might''ve not given a shit about two people fucking in public at the moment, but that was only because they didn''t know any better. Had they known¡ªhad somebody been able to identify me¡ªI''d probably be outside getting my hands cuffed while sporting the largest erection ever. Wouldn''t that make an interesting cover for the paper? Trying to block the police from my mind, I reached over to my glove compartment and pulled it open. I grabbed my box of condoms and looked inside.

    Two rubbers left.

    Thank God.

    I tapped Heidi in the back of the head, making her stop her movements. ¡°Get in the back,¡± I gruffly commanded. She nodded and climbed into the backseat. I may talk shit about my ride sometimes, but one thing I loved about my SJ was how spacious it was. Plenty of trunk room, enough breathing room for passengers, and more than enough leg room for people looking to fuck in the backseat.

    She quickly began tugging at her own jeans while I worked on joining her in the back. I helped her out by pulling her pants and underwear down to her knees, which she then took over in removing completely from her legs. I spread her legs apart just before ripping the condom wrapper open with my teeth. She watched me as I took the rubber out of the wrapper and rolled it onto my shaft. Judging by the look in her eyes, she didn''t want to waste any time. So I happily obliged and shoved myself into her.

    Thus began our dance. What dance, you ask? Well, that is both an easy question and a hard one. It''s obvious what we were doing, but what it felt like was so much more than that. We were celebrating the night, presenting our half naked bodies to the stars. We were celebrating our humanity. Man, at his very core, is cruel and ruthless. He ain''t good at anything other than causing more problems for other men. The one thing, though, that he is good at is releasing sexual tension. Because that was what it meant to be human; get angry and calm down by having lots of bestial sex.

    But, most importantly? We were celebrating each other. We were showing each other how much we needed one another. Lord knows I needed Heidi more than air. And even if she didn''t truly need me, she still decided to give me the time of day for this night and other nights like it. And I could never take that for granted.

    Speeding up, her lovely moans are all I can hear. She''s telling me to go faster¡ªgo harder. I eagerly do as I''m told. Anything to keep her yelling. Anything to tune out those awful police sirens.

    I feel her walls squeeze the life out of me. She''s now screaming in pure ecstasy, thrashing under me like a maniac. My name easily rolls off her tongue. Her tone is just enough to drive me over the edge...but not before a frightening feeling makes itself known around the head of my penis. While the rest of it feels nicely secure within the condom, I feel a sudden lack of constriction at the end.

    But I''m too late to stop myself.

    My orgasm comes hard.

    I''m gasping for air as my seed spills inside of her.

    The very second I felt it end, I pulled out of her to examine the condom. She didn''t notice what I was doing as the afterglow had her eyes comfortably closed. I touched the part that I had felt the strange feeling at. My eyes widened in sheer horror.

    Ripped.

    The condom had fucking ripped.

    I wasn''t able to stop.

    Ripped.

    Oh no.

    ¡°Mmm, that was amazing!¡± Heidi crowed. I swallowed hard, quickly pulling the condom off. ¡°Uh, yeah, good babygirl.¡± I tossed the broken condom on the floorboard.

    Heidi could not know about this.

    No way.

    It would just make her worry nonstop for the next couple of weeks.

    Who knows, maybe nothing would come from this?

    Maybe this was just a scare.

    That''s all.

    Just a scare.

    ¡°Say, Heidi? You¡ªuh¡ªneed anythin'' before we go home?¡± She opened her eyes, smiling. ¡°I have everythin'' I need right here, baby.¡± I grinned uneasily and nodded towards the building. ¡°You need¡ªuh¡ªlike¡ªuh¡ªa piss break or anythin''?¡± She giggled. ¡°Well, I guess I should probably pee before we go home.¡±

    I nodded hard.

    ¡°Yes. Yes you should.¡±

 Chapter Seven: The Conceptual Picture Show

    No day can last forever.

    No matter how long it seems to drag on.

    With every mishap and turn that occurs, there are still only twenty-four hours in a day.

    Everyday ends eventually.

    A new day is just a wink away.

    I repeated these words to myself obsessively like a wacko waiting for the nice nurse to spoon feed him his favorite can of SpaghettiO''s. Each utterance felt fake, though. Like my mind knew that I was just trying to make myself feel better by spitting out a bunch of empty nonsense. My brain¡ªit knew that I was fucked, but I won''t say it lacked the courage to accept it. After all, how much courage do you gotta have to accept defeat? Wouldn''t it be braver to continue fighting the nearly impossible fight? In this world full of quitters, I want to be the one who stands taller than all of them. Call me prideful all you want, but I ain''t gonna sit in a corner and cry myself to my grave.

    Heidi was peacefully dozing off in the passenger seat during the drive home. I could see her in my peripheral vision and¡ªlemme tell you¡ªthe sight of her made my jealousy bubble up like a hot bath. Imagine being so at peace with your life that you slept like a baby most nights. Imagine never having that one annoying, lingering thought in your head keeping you from getting anything accomplished. Shit, imagine not having a whole choir of annoying thoughts constantly belting out the wrong lyrics to your favorite songs! Can you imagine this shit? Because I sure fucking can''t! I didn''t even attempt to tell myself that I was gonna sleep tonight; I knew better than that. No amount of comfort my mattress could possibly bring me would tame the lions roaring in my head.

    Yeah, lions.

    A whole pride of them.

    And guess what, baby; it was mating season up there.

    Despite being in a hurry to get home, I forced myself to drive the speed limit as to avoid any run-ins with one of New York''s finest donut junkies. Yeah, you read that right. Despite killing all that time in the Walmart parking lot, the blue bastards were still out combing for lice. I was definitely gonna keep an eye on the news tomorrow morning; I really wanted to know what was so goddamn important about this dead guy. Unless you''re the motherfucking president, nobody should care this much that you got your neck stamped out in a gas station bathroom.

    After all, it''s called ¡°Survival of the Fittest¡± for a reason.

    Luckily, I was able to get us home without any problems. After parking outside the apartment complex, I gently shook Heidi awake. She opened her eyes, saw the apartment, unbuckled her seat belt, and exited the car without saying a single word to me. I didn''t mind, though; as on edge as I was, I wouldn''t of been able to properly carry a conversation with her anyway.

    The next sequence of events went smoothly enough. We entered the building, pressed the ¡°call¡± button for the elevator, rode up to the sixth floor, and unlocked the door to the apartment. All of that was easy; it was what came after that was the hard part. Our fathers were luckily already asleep, so we took advantage of the clearing and headed to our bedroom.

    Yeah¡ªour bedroom.

    Our apartment was a crappy two bed/one bath. For the longest time, it was just me and my dad living there. When Roy and Heidi came into the picture, they originally tried to get a hold of this nice three bed/two bath place over in Queens. But the landlord over the property didn''t feel comfortable renting the place out to ¡°a bunch of faggots¡±, so Roy and Heidi just moved in with us. The ¡°adults¡± got one room and the ¡°kids¡± got the other.

    Our folks had attempted to make things less awkward by placing a second bed into the room, but that only worked until we got older. Having an extra bed didn''t stop teenage hormones from kicking in at full force; it only gave us an extra place to fuck. Of course, the two dunderheads were completely unaware of this. As far as they knew, Heidi was saving herself for her wedding night. As for me, they didn''t care so long as some broad wasn''t banging on the door demanding child support. ¡°Boys will be boys,¡± Roy always said.

    Yeah, Roy.

    Boys will be boys.

    Girls will be girls.

    And two idiot fathers will be two idiot fathers.

    But alas, I''m way off track from what I was originally talking about. So we made it home with no trouble and even managed to make it to our bedroom without having to explain ourselves to our folks. Heidi was too tuckered out to even get changed into her pajamas, so she just took off her shoes and hopped into her bed. I, on the other hand, wasn''t so lucky.

    I tossed my car keys onto my dresser and stripped down to my socks and plaid boxers. The central heating had been set on a decent temperature, so all walking around in my underwear got me was a shiver or two. I crawled into my bed and pulled the black comforter over me. My eyes closed, but don''t you think for a second that I fell asleep.

    ¡­

    First it was just two images, all taken from the gas station bathroom. It started with the kid''s dead body lying on the ground. Blood ran down his mouth, coating all around his neck and the collar of his jersey. Despite being dead, he maintained his childlike glow in his irises. He looked¡ªdare I say¡ªpeaceful in his nonliving state. I mean, think about it. Just moments before he died, he was being held at gunpoint by some lunatic on a power trip. I''m sure death was much more preferable than living in the constant state of paranoia our encounter would''ve surely left him with for the rest of his short life.

    The next image was the kid sitting on the toilet, like how he was when I snapped out of my daze brought on by Zombie Bastard and Genghis Two. In this position, he looked more bored than he did peaceful. Like somebody had slit his throat and he knew he was gonna die, so he was just waiting it out and getting impatient with how long it was taking. The youthful brights in his eyes were now gone¡ªaging him about ten years in the face. It was like any innocence the kid had left in his system was taken from him once Zombie Bastard took his body over. Though, to be fair, I don''t think I''d be quite the same ever again if some asshole took over my body, either.

    That was the end of the images I was familiar with.

    The next series of images were new to me.

    And holy Toledo, I wish I hadn''t seen or heard them.

    ¡­

    Yeah.

    You read that right, buddy.

    The third image was a body bag. A yellow ¡°05¡± tag was stuck onto the zipper. A flash bordered the image like it was a Polaroid somebody had snapped. Now, the image itself wasn''t what unsettled me. After all, it was just a body bag¡ªbig deal, right? What got me was the commentary accompanying it. Yeah, commentary.

    ¡°What do we got here, Skip?¡±

    ¡°Homicide. Major blunt force trauma to the throat and neck. More than likely premeditated.¡±

    ¡°Anything on the victim?¡±

    ¡°Young white male, around fourteen or fifteen. He doesn''t have an ID on him, but he''s wearing a jersey for the Franklin Delano Roosevelt High School football team. Somebody there should be able to identify him for us.¡±

    ¡°Any possible suspects?¡±

    ¡°Not yet, we''re still investigating.¡±

    ¡°So young, such a waste...about long would you say he''s been dead?¡±

    ¡°Rigor mortis has barely set in, Brock. This kid''s only been dead for a few hours at most.¡±

    ¡°That means our perp is still out there, probably not too far. Continue your investigation, but have a couple of our guys patrol the borough just in case.¡±

    ¡°Very well, sir.¡±

    Pfft, a couple of guys? Buddy, you had the entire fucking block jammed pack with your retards in blue. Shit, I wouldn''t be surprised if your boys were responsible for a couple of vehicular homicides during your nonsensical witch hunt! Just fess up and admit that you guys were actually trying to hit the cafe before closing for your cup of coffee and jelly-filled donut with sprinkles.

    The fourth image to appear was of Heidi and Paul standing outside the gas station. It was a still of him sticking a tissue into his nose while she looked at him with mild concern. My guess? This wasn''t long after I punched him. And, if I had to guess further, this was around the moment in time that I made the decision to hurt that boy. Like the body bag, this image also came with commentary.

    ¡°Oh my God, what happened to you?¡±

    ¡°Your brother happened.¡±

    ¡°Genghis hit you? Why?¡±

    ¡°I don''t know! I guess we pissed him off or something.¡±

    ¡°That lousy...ugh. You alright, Paul?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I''m fine. Just bleeding a little.¡±

    ¡°I''m sure a few minutes in the bathroom will calm him down.¡±

    ¡°I hope so, Heidi. I sure hope so.¡±

    Commentary too tame for you people?

    Well allow my scumbag mind to change that for you and me.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°Why did you do it, Genghis? Why?!¡±

    ¡°I didn''t mean to, Heidi! T-They were hurtin'' that girl! What was I supposed to do?!¡±

    ¡°You had a gun on you, Genghis! You obviously brought it with the intention of hurtin'' somebody!¡±

    ¡°No, I didn''t! It''s called self-defense!¡±

    ¡°You took a life from somebody¡ªtwo lives! You''re a murderer!¡±

    ¡°Heidi, please! Just listen to me!¡±

    ¡°I...I don''t know you, Genghis. You''re not the boy I grew up with.¡±

    ¡°..H-Heidi? Doan you dare turn your back on me. Heidi. Heidi!¡±

    Boy-o-boy, was I glad nobody could see the embarrassingly large tears streaming from my eyes. Not in my flashback¡ªno; I meant lying in my bed in present time. Once a rather pathetic sounding sob escaped from my mouth, I quickly buried my face into my pillow as to not risk waking up Heidi. Last thing I needed was her thinking I was some kinda weak pansy. Unfortunately the torture continued to flood my mind. And the next set decided to outright make fun of me for crying like a menstruating woman.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The next image was complete darkness.

    No, really.

    There was nothing to look at.

    Granted, I didn''t care so much about the lack of sight.

    I cared more about the lack of silence.

    After a minute of darkness, I eventually heard the distant sound of an infant crying. It started off reasonably tolerable. Like the kind of cry a newborn does seconds after coming out of their mom. The crying is there, but it ain''t eardrum shattering. But then it got louder, and louder, and louder. Suddenly, this brat was screaming bloody murder in my goddamn head. It was so loud that I actually covered my ears in real life.

    While this was happening, I began trying to put pieces together. It was pretty clear at this point that Zombie Bastard was the one responsible for these particular thoughts. Why do I immediately point the finger at him, you ask? Because he''s the sonuvabitch that started all of this in the first place! From the moment he attacked me in that bathroom, these horrible thoughts have been stuck in my head with no clear sign of going away. It was obvious what he was trying to do. All these intrusive thoughts? All the damn taunting? He was trying to guilt trip me into going to Casa do Dia?o.

    Well, newsflash for him.

    I told him I ain''t going.

    And guess what?

    I still ain''t going!

    So he can shove these images straight up his ass and suck my dick dry.

    I said I wasn''t gonna let this madness get the best of me and I fucking meant it.

    I fucking meant it!

    ¡­

    Before I knew it, morning had come. Was it the sun that brought this to my attention? No, son; it unfortunately wasn''t the sun. It was, in fact, something much more obnoxious.

    You see, my Dad was never a very religious man. My Nonna and Nonno never really enforced religion on him or my uncle Paolo growing up. Roy, on the other hand, is a devout Roman-Catholic. He goes to church every Sunday, refuses to eat meat during Lent, does that fruity hand thing all Catholics do¡ªet cetera et cetera. He tried early in the relationship to convert my old man, but it never worked so he eventually just gave up. So now, my dad has this hilarious joke that he pulls every single Sunday morning. That joke, ladies and gentlemen, is the unceremonious blasting of The Rolling Stones'' ¡°Sympathy for the Devil¡± first thing in the goddamn morning.

    After hearing Mick Jagger''s first couple of yowls he does at the beginning of the song, I squinted at my wall clock. It was right at five o''clock. Christians are fucking crazy for wanting to wake up this early just to sit down and listen to some guy scream for two hours. My old man was even crazier for ignoring the numerous complaints from neighbors regarding his unhealthy obsession with this stupid song.

    ¡°Please allow me to introduce myself...I''m a man of wealth and taste...¡±

    I slowly sat up and rubbed my eyes. I felt exhausted¡ªcompletely deprived from a proper''s night''s sleep. Heidi was already up and dressed in her Sunday dress. In this household, her and Roy were the only two that attended church every weekend. Like father like daughter, she tried converting me a long time ago. However, unlike her old man, she didn''t know when to give up.

    ¡°...I''ve been around for a long, long year; stole many a man''s soul to waste...¡±

    She turned to look at me, giggling at my disgruntled expression. ¡°Mornin'', sleepyhead.¡± I grunted in response, which made her giggle again. ¡°Packie don''t know when to quit this joke, huh?¡± I rolled my eyes and waited for my cue to imitate Mick Jagger''s annoying voice. ¡°Please to meet you¡ªhope you guess maaaaaaah name!¡± She laughed and clapped her hands. I laid down on my back and used both of my hands to flip off the ceiling fan above my bed.

    Heidi sat next to me and leaned down to plant a quick kiss on my lips. ¡°Get dressed and come to church with us.¡± I smiled up at her and poked her nose with my index finger. ¡°No.¡± She gave me one of those fake, cutesy angry faces that all girls seem to be good at pulling. ¡°C''mon, Genghis. It ain''t gonna set you on fire or anythin''.¡±

    I chuckled. ¡°You just want to see me in a suit,¡± I said with a wink. She rolled her eyes, but in a playful matter. ¡°Maybe I do. So what?¡± I returned her kiss. ¡°So I can surprise you one day. You come home from hangin'' out with your lame boyfriend just to find me loungin'' on your bed, wearin'' a snazzy getup. Maybe have a single red rose in my teeth?¡±

    Heidi lightly smacked my chest. ¡°Put your clothes on and get somethin'' to eat at least, you dork.¡± She got up to leave the room, but she only made it to the door before I decided to imitate Paul''s wimpy voice. ¡°But I''m your dork, baby!¡± She looked at me, grabbed my pillow, and tossed it at my face. I laughed at her reaction as she left the room.

    ¡°Pleased to meet you¡ªhope you guess my name! Oh yeah! Ah, what''s puzzling you is the nature of my game!¡±

    Yerp, the damn song was still playing.

    So I finally got up out of bed and put on a pair of checkered sweatpants and a white wife-beater. I''ll put on some proper clothes after breakfast and my morning shower. Upon exiting my bedroom, the first thing I noticed was that somebody had left the TV on in the living room. The next thing I noticed was the smell of bacon and eggs. Roy was cooking this morning¡ªgood. My dad burnt just about every damn thing he attempted to put in a frying pan.

    ¡°Just as every cop is a criminal...and all the sinners saints...as heads is tails, just call me Lucifer ''cause I''m in need of some restraint!¡±

    I first took advantage of the bathroom being empty. Closing the door behind me, I flipped the toilet seat up and took a leak. The only noises I could hear outside was the sizzling grease from Roy''s cooking, a commercial on TV advertising the new 1990 model Buick Regal Limited, and Sympathy for the Devil''s godawful ¡°WOO WOO¡±s that were repeated throughout the song. I had hoped to kill enough time in the bathroom for the wretched song to end. If I didn''t, I''d be forced to listen to my old man belt out the lyrics in a Brooklyn accent much thicker than mine. Unfortunately, the song wasn''t over by the time I was done pissing.

    So I flushed the toilet and walked over to the mirror. I spent the next two minutes admiring my reflection. The growing scruff on my face hadn''t grown too much since yesterday, which I didn''t mind. I wasn''t trying to grow a beard or anything; I was totally fine with stubble and my soul patch just under my bottom lip. Granted, if I had my way, the stubble would get shaved clean off. But alas, Heidi thought it was sexy, so I kept it.

    There was, however, something I spotted that I didn''t want to keep. I didn''t notice it until I turned my head a certain way, but there was a pretty large hickey on my neck from last night. Yeah yeah, I know it''s my fault that it''s there. You ain''t telling me anything I don''t already know, alright? Normally, I''d proudly show off Heidi''s love marks to the world. But in this case? All this mark reminded me of was that goddamn condom ripping at the last second. I shuttered at the possibilities that could potentially come from that.

    You know, I still have one more rubber left in my box...but I may just toss it and buy a brand new box.

    You understand.

    Once the song finally ended, I exited the bathroom and made my way into the kitchen. Roy was standing over the stove with his red shoulder length hair up in a ponytail. He wore black sweatpants and an army green tank top, showing off his broad shoulders and thick arms. Roy was a pretty muscular guy, then again working as a carpenter typically does that to you. Of course, biweekly trips to the gym also helped. If Heidi had a dollar for every time one of her girlfriends commented on how attractive her old man was, she''d probably have more than enough money to go to college.

    And then, sitting at the table wearing only red heart boxer shorts and gray slippers, was a man that I couldn''t say the same for in my case. In facial structure, I looked exactly like him. But where I had a full head of jet black hair, naturally tan skin, and dark brown eyes, he had thinning light brown hair, pale white skin, and baby blues watching the world. He always told me that I looked more like my mom than him; and that, ladies and gentlemen, is the only thing I ever learned about my mother.

    My father was overweight, having given up the trips to the gym when the arthritis in his legs got too unbearable. Though, his strict diet of barbeque and Budweiser surely didn''t help his cause either. Luckily, he didn''t really need to be all that healthy for his job as a mechanic. He''s been doing it for nearly twenty-one years now, after all.

    Makes me wonder how he spent his time before I was born.

    Anyway, Dad was sitting on his fat ass, reading the Sunday paper. Heidi sat in front of him, happily chowing down on her fried eggs. I walked over to the table and pulled the chair next to her. The legs scraping the floor made Roy look over at me. He smiled wide. ¡°Mornin'', champ! How do you want your eggs?¡± I mumbled out the words, ¡°The usual¡­¡±, which made him chuckle. ¡°''Ight, so scrambled with cheese melted on top. Gotcha!¡±

    Roy got to work and I looked at my Dad, grilling him slightly. ¡°Say Pop,¡± I started in a casual tone despite the look I was giving him, ¡°did you know that Sympathy for the Devil is nearly six and a half minutes long?¡± He looked at me from over his paper. ¡°Doan yuh be tawkin'' shit ''bout de Stones, boy.¡± Yeah, I wasn''t joking when I said his accent is thicker than mine. ¡°I''m just wonderin'' why Mick Jagger needs that long to drive home the fact that he''s the devil. Why can''t he just be like ¡°Yo peeps, I''m the motherfuckin'' devil. Word up!¡±? Would easily shave off at least four whole minutes.¡± He snorted loudly. ¡°Becawze dat would be a fuckin'' awful song. It''s called art, boy. Art doan need no shawhtcuts, okay?¡±

    It''s already an awful song, Dad.

    Ain''t nothing ¡°artistic¡± about a guy shouting ¡°WOO WOO¡± for six and a half minutes while bringing up events you could easily learn about by picking up a history book.

    ¡°Whatever you say, Pop,¡± I said, not really in the proper mindset to argue with him this morning. He continued looking at his paper and my attention shifted toward the TV over in the living room. An episode of Full House was currently playing. It was clearly an old episode, though; Michelle was still just a baby with no lines of dialogue.

    Then, after a bad Bob Saget joke, the program suddenly was cut off to bring a breaking news bulletin.

    I''d bet you money on what it was regarding, but c''mon¡ªyou already fucking know at this point.

    ¡°We apologize for interrupting your scheduled programming, ladies and gentlemen,¡± said the blonde news lady wearing a little too much make-up, ¡°but we have an urgent update for those of you in the Brooklyn area.¡± The picture cutaway to an outside shot of the gas station from last night. ¡°Tragedy struck at a Shell station on Atlantic Avenue yesterday afternoon when a young man was found brutally murdered in the men''s restroom. The victim has been identified as fifteen year-old Jacob Summers.¡± After saying his name, a yearbook photo of the kid popped up on the screen. Huh, kid looked a whole lot different when fear wasn''t sketched into his baby-face. At least I had a name for him now.

    ¡°Police have determined the cause of death as multiple blunt attacks to the throat, causing a tracheal rupture.¡± The picture then transitioned to some middle-aged lady who talked like she smoked three packs of Marlboros a day. ¡°Yeah, so they have me clean the bathrooms at night when business is slow. I walk into the boy''s room and see somebody is in one of the stalls. I think to myself, ¡°Ah, poor guy must''ve eaten somethin'' that didn''t agree with him. That happens to my husband every time he eats Mexican.¡± So I leave the bathroom and come back a little later. When I came back, I see this guy is still takin'' a -bleep- in the stall. At this point I''m a little annoyed because I just wanna go home, you know? So I ask him, ¡°You alright, mister?¡± He didn''t say nothin'', so I knocked on the stall. ¡°Ay sir, you alright?¡± Still nothin''. So I got a little wawrried and crouched down. That''s when I noticed the blood on the floor.¡±

    The picture then returned to the news lady.

    ¡°According to witness reports, there are two possible suspects.¡±

    I swallowed hard, waiting for my face to appear on the screen.

    ¡°One is described as a young white male, dark hair, about six feet tall, wearing a black jean jacket...¡±

    Dammit.

    ¡°...and the other is also described as a young white male, but about five foot seven with blonde hair and a white sweater. Police will be releasing facial composites of these suspects once they''re able to...¡±

    I put a hand over my mouth to cover my incoming laugh.

    First they described me.

    Then they described Paul.

    Paul.

    Fucking Paul was a suspect!

    Oh man!

    I''d give my left nut for him to take the fall for this crime!

    Luckily, nobody else in the household seemed to be paying attention to the news. ¡°What''s so funny, Genghis?¡± Roy asked as he brought my breakfast to the table. I quickly worked to wipe the smile off my face. ¡°N-Nothin'', Roy. Just remembered somethin'' funny from¡ª¡±

    He put a hand on my cheek and pushed my face upwards lightly. Following this was a pretty loud wolf whistle. Shit, I knew what he was looking at. ¡°Yo, Packie! Your boy''s got himself a girlfriend!¡±

    My dad put his paper on the table and stood up. ¡°What do yuh mean he''s got a girl?¡± Heidi looked at me, pretending to be surprised by this news. I tried pulling away from Roy''s grip, but he had a fairly tight hold on me. ¡°Fuck off, Roy,¡± I growled. He ignored me and pointed to the hickey on my neck once my old man made his way over.

    Dad released his own obnoxious whistle. ¡°Got yawhself a vicious woman, din''t yuh?¡± I repeated myself a bit louder, making Roy laugh. ¡°I would, kiddo...but it looks like you did enough of that last night for the both of us!¡± Heidi looked back at her plate, blushing a little bit. I growled again. Fuck myself for allowing the words ¡°Mark me, baby¡± to come out of my mouth.

    ¡°So, is this one serious? Or was it another nameless broad at a party?¡± I was finally able to jerk away from Roy''s grip and pick up my fork. ¡°None of your business,¡± I said, digging into my eggs. ¡°What''s her name?¡± Roy pried. I rolled my eyes. ¡°She has the most beautiful name ever. It''s ¡°Fuck you, this ain''t none of your goddamn business¡±.¡± The redhead smacked me in the back of the head. ¡°Hey, watch it. We don''t say the Lord''s name in vain in this household!¡±

    I lifted my fork up to take another bite, but the spot he hit suddenly started to hurt.

    A lot.

    Why?

    He didn''t even hit me that hard.

    ¡­

    My fork falls onto my plate, clattering loudly.

    The room is spinning.

    ¡°Genghis, you alright?¡±

    My eyes are now rolling to the back of my head.

    I''m falling onto the floor.

    He didn''t even hit me that hard.

 Chapter Seven Point Two: The Blue & The Beautiful

    ¡­

    ...

    ¡°Hello, Officer. You have the law in your palm. Why is that child your bride?¡±

    ¡­

    Jerrika Blue stared at the words written in her little My Little Pony ''n Friends diary. She scratched her yellow blonde hair in her state of perplexion. The passage conveyed the correct message and even contained the intended number of syllables within the first line, which was eighteen. So what about it was so wrong? Why wasn''t she pleased with it? This was always her least favorite part of the creative process. The inspiration was always soaring through her bones, but she could never figure out the perfect words to begin her stories.

    Should she begin with a quote?

    ¡­?

    It was now the middle of October, which meant that the Texas Book Festival was only a few weeks away. Mrs. Florence had held a writing contest in class one day, picking three winners to go on to the Young Author''s Conference which took place during the festival. Each student was to write an essay; two pages minimum, five pages maximum. The prompt was ¡°If you were an inventor, what life-changing creation would you bring to the world?¡±. Jerrika won second place with her wishing well that actually granted wishes. Mickey Broderick won first place with his flying car, which admittedly annoyed the girl a little bit. What was so imaginative about flying cars? Only a billion other people in the world have already written essays about them! But all griping aside, she was still excited to be one of the few students scheduled to appear in Austin on the fourth of November. And she had the full intention of writing something so moving and profound that it made Mrs. Florence regret giving first place to that hack, Mickey.

    Maybe she should start with a brief summary instead?

    Um.

    Perhaps some witty zinger that will catch her audience''s attention?

    Why am I in fuckin'' Texas?

    No, this wasn''t one of those kinds of stories.

    What do you mean ¡°it was now the middle of October¡±? It''s December 3<sup>rd</sup>!

    Jerrika wanted to write something that would not only shock people, but enlighten them. Everyone knew that the only way to get noticed in the world was to do something out of left field; leave a bitter taste in people''s mouths. In a world full of copycats, Jerrika hoped to be the one eight year-old that knocked the breath out of her readers. Of course, she didn''t want this for the fame. She''d still be perfectly happy if her story was credited as ¡°Anonymous¡± and she still managed to get a following of people who cared enough to listen.

    In the end, that''s truly all she wanted.

    For people to listen and care about her words.

    She rubbed the back of her neck, fingertips caressing the large bruise her father had left there the night before, and got back to writing.

    What? Who is this girl?

    Loneliness was a terrible burden for such a little girl to have, but it wasn''t all that bad. The big upside to having no friends was that your life was considered an anomaly to others. Nobody knew quite what to make of you. On hand, that meant nobody could use information against you in the midst of a disagreement. On the other hand, however, that almost guaranteed that you''d have the disdain of everyone around you.

    Human nature often dictates how we perceive people that are different from ourselves. Mankind, in general, has always held a xenophobic view of anything and anyone that couldn''t be easily read or manipulated. Non-conformity was scary, and scary was bad. As a result of this unspoken truth, human nature has always revolved around making others feel bad about their life decisions and varying opinions on particular topics. Whether this is a trait all human beings are born with or if it''s a learned behavior is a debate many have discussed since the birth of Psychology. Regardless of which answer was correct, it was no secret that children were especially guilty of doing this.

    Jerrika Blue was the textbook definition of a loner and, as such, her classmates desperately wanted a reason¡ªany reason¡ªto make her feel ashamed of her introverted nature. The only problem was that absolutely nothing seemed to rattle the quiet blonde. One boy tried making fun of her handwriting, but immediately stopped when he realized it was more legible than his own. Another boy teased her over her name because ¡°Ha ha, your eyes are blue!¡±, which earned him no reaction whatsoever. A girl once started a rumor about Jerrika wetting herself during gym class, but the blonde just brushed it off like it was nothing. The kids suspected that she was a robot that was incapable of feeling any kind of emotion. Alas, life wasn''t that simple to explain. Nor was life innocent and silly as seen through the eyes of a child.

    For Jerrika Blue could not be fazed by their bullying.

    Why?

    Because she already lived with somebody who was a far worse human being than any of her classmates.

    Why the hell am I seein'' this?

    Kevin Blue was a well-respected man on the streets of Leander, Texas. He fought in the Vietnam War for five years. Ever the dedicated soldier, he was well on his way to being promoted to Lieutenant Kevin Blue, but enemy artillery fire got one of his legs. He recovered, but not without an honorable discharge. He returned home, joined the police force, found himself a little wife, and sired a beautiful daughter.

    Kevin gradually worked his way to becoming Sheriff, even providing a powerful voice to the Leander City Council a time or ten. Along with maintaining a safe environment for the community, he was also rather outspoken regarding the quality of children''s education and their safety from evildoers. Kevin Blue was a hero of the people, but to his own daughter, he was the biggest evildoer of them all.

    The cop is a crook? You doan fuckin'' say.

    When Jerrika was four years-old, she got herself out of bed one night to ask her mommy to pour her a glass of milk. She wasn''t allowed to get her own milk because she never failed to make a huge mess in the kitchen. After all, if there was one thing children were especially good at, it was spilling any and every kind of liquid substance. But no milk was spilled that night.

    Only blood.

    Lynn Blue''s blood, to be exact.

    Shit. Tough break, kid. At least you knew your mom.

    Over Lynn''s body stood Kevin, crying into his blood stained hands. ¡°Daddy?¡± Jerrika squeaked in her young Texas drawl. Her father''s hands dropped to his sides and he turned to face his daughter with bloody hand-prints on his face. At this point of her memory, things begin to fade when her sapphire eyes met with his manic catlike yellow eyes.

    ¡°Daddy got ''em,¡± he wheezed through his panic, ¡°Daddy got the sons ''ah bitches that hurt her. She didn''t die in vain, sweet pea.¡± Jerrika couldn''t remember what immediately followed that interaction; she just knew that she didn''t cry. Death was such a foreign concept to the small child. The idea that people can just go to sleep and never wake up seemed strange. How do people do that? Wouldn''t they get bored of their dreams eventually?

    Yerp; they''re the same people that were constantly bored when they were awake, too.

    The next memory Jerrika remembered was three days after the funeral. Neighbors flooded the Blue household to bring Kevin and Jerrika gifts. ¡°It must be hard not havin'' a mama around, sweetie,¡± was a line Jerrika heard at least five times that day. ¡°She''ll be back; she''s just sleepin'' is all!¡± was what the little girl reminded each and every one of the mourning guests.

    Eventually the neighbors went home, which left Little Jerrika alone with Kevin.

    She was writing a series of short poems on a piece of pink construction paper. She always loved writing, even at such a young age. Her handwriting was terrible due to the poor fine motor control in her hands, but things like that didn''t matter back then. Lynn always said Jerrika was a prodigy, destined to become the next Virginia Woolf or Sylvia Plath. Her mommy was the prettiest, nicest woman she''d ever met¡ªa living angel on Earth. The only mistake Lynn ever made was marrying the devil himself.

    ¡°Hey honey,¡± he said, grabbing her sides like he usually did, ¡°what''re you writin'' there?¡± She turned to look at him, smiling wide. ¡°A poem!¡± she exclaimed proudly. He chuckled, giving her a little tickle. ¡°A poem, you say! Wanna read it to your dear ol'' daddy?¡±

    She nods excitedly. ¡°Kay!¡± she shouts as she holds up her diary to read. The small child cleared her throat before reciting her masterpiece to her father. ¡°Eyes now open,¡± she reads loudly and slowly, ¡°watch me grow my legs, runnin'' like flyin''. I''m a cloud floatin'' higher!¡±

    More artistic than Sympathy for the Goddamn Devil. But I''d stay in school if I were you, kiddo.

    ¡°Did you like it, Daddy?¡±

    Kevin doesn''t make a sound, instead focused on trailing his fingertips along his daughter''s waist line.

    Buddy, what''re you¡ª

    Kevin smiles against her ear.

    ¡°Yes sweet pea, Daddy liked it very much.¡±

    He runs his fingers back up to her upper chest.

    Stop.

    ¡°Wanna know how much Daddy liked it, darlin''?¡±

    Oh hell no. We ain''t doin'' this, guy. Nononono¡ª

    Just thinking about his awful question sends Jerrika into a shivering rage even to this day. The events following that question only fueled the monster within. After Kevin was finished, he attempted to justify his actions to the traumatized child. ¡°Look baby, your mama did things like this for me all the time. You''re the new lady of the household, so you have to take over some of the things she used to do.¡±

    Alright you undead sonuvabitch, get your ass out here!

    It wasn''t an everyday thing, at first. Once or twice a week, Kevin would come home from a rough day at work and take his pent-up frustrations on the young blonde. She never liked the games he wanted to play and they always made her hurt. But what else was she to do? She wanted to make her daddy proud¡ªto make her mommy proud. So she never complained when he rubbed his deeply calloused hands all over her kitty cat pajamas.

    You think this trick of yours is gonna get me into your fictional Wonderland? Fuckin'' think again, asshole!

    As the next couple of months came and went, Jerrika learned to truly hate the sound of her father''s squad car pulling into the driveway. Before her mommy died, the only things that ever scared Little Jerrika Blue was really large spiders and being alone in the dark. But spiders were harmless so long as you weren''t mean to them, and the dark wasn''t bad if you just closed your eyes and tried to go to sleep. But when Kevin Blue came home from work, Jerrika felt something much worse than initial fear. For a while, just hearing his car door slam sent her into a violent crying fit that sometimes ended up with her vomiting whatever meal she ate last.

    I ain''t gonna let you bastards drive me to the funny farm with your cryptic bullshit! You hear me?!

    On Jerrika Blue''s very first day of school, she had deeply concerned her teacher, Ms. Phillips. Not only did the girl have no interest in interacting with the other students, she also spent way too much time scribbling on a piece of paper. When the young teacher finally managed to get the paper away from the child, her jaw dropped at the words she read:Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°Raise your hand for me, sir.

    Hold mine with a crooked smile.

    I will see more of you in hell.¡±

    Hey, Zombie Douche, I''m tawlkin'' to you!

    Ms. Phillips reported this incident to the principal, who immediately called Kevin to ask about Jerrika''s well-being at home. Of course, he was at work at the time of the phone call, so he had to hear about the entire fiasco over a rather long voice-mail on his land-line. Once he was able to communicate with the school, he assured them that everything was okay. Jerrika was just ¡°acting out¡± as a means of coping with her mother''s grisly murder. The school bought it, but the Sheriff of Leander wasn''t very happy with his daughter''s behavior. From that point onward, his abuse grew ever more violent.

    Tawlk to me, dammit! Hello?!

    At age six, Jerrika Blue had her first sexually transmitted disease. It wasn''t one of the really bad ones like gonorrhea or HIV. It had some long name that Jerrika could never remember¡ªtricho...something. Kevin nearly had a heart attack the day she was diagnosed. What would the neighbors say about his young daughter having this kind of infection? Did he have the infection, too? Luckily, the pretty female doctor assured him that the infection could''ve come from something as simple as his daughter either not rinsing properly in the bathtub or not wiping thoroughly enough after using the restroom. Sheriff Blue''s reputation was spared, though he still sought medical treatment in secret just to be safe.

    By age seven, Jerrika began to associate evil with everybody that even remotely reminded her of her father. Whether it was one little thing or something major, the blonde found herself feeling extremely suspicious of certain types of people. Kevin was a police officer, so that meant all police officers were scum. He was also a veteran, so all other military personnel¡ªcurrent and old¡ªwere never to be trusted. Most importantly, her father was a man. So to Jerrika, there was simply no such thing as a non-dangerous man.

    After four years of this unholy union between father and daughter, Jerrika learned to stop fearing the beast. She rationalized that, after this long of the same old same old, there was no reason to be afraid. She already knew what was coming. Did she like it? No, of course not. But cowering in fear over the inevitable was a waste of time. And thus by her eighth birthday, she had grown from a scared little girl to a stone-hearted, angry miniature woman.

    Childhood gone too soon.

    But she was going to avenge it all.

    This tell-all will bring justice to those out there who are just like Kevin Blue. Even if Kevin himself wasn''t punished, at least more children living in Texas would begin to feel comfortable with opening up about their trials and tribulations. Alas, the only problem with autobiographical stories was that they always cut way too deep. Jerrika slowly closed her diary for a few minutes of recuperation before continuing.

    She took a deep breath as the bright smiles of Galaxy and Fizzy watched her in silence.

    Little girl, can you hear me?

    Jerrika Blue closed her eyes.

    Hello?

    She hummed the tune to My Little Pony ''n Friends to herself.

    Any clue why I''m almost two-thousand miles away from home?

    The blonde worked to lose herself in her thoughts.

    C''mon, you can tawlk to me. I ain''t some kinda creepy pervert. I just wanna return to where I''m s''pose to be.

    Suddenly, her eyes opened.

    Yo? You hear me, kid?

    She did hear something; someone.

    But it wasn''t the invisible trespasser.

    ¡­

    The little girl fell over onto the floor when a figure suddenly materialized on her table. This being knew well to choose his form carefully with this child. He was fully aware of her troubled past and present and wished not to frighten her. So the sight bestowed upon Miss Jerrika Blue was one that could never frighten her or lead her astray.

    Tears immediately burst from the eight year-old''s eyes.

    Lynn Blue smiled earnestly at the child.

    A spitting image of her daughter, she was as beautiful as she was the day before she died.

    Oh sure, the eight year-old gets her normal lookin'' mom. I get a goddamn dead guy. Fuck you too, douchebag.

    ¡°Don''t be afraid, honey. Everythin'' is goin'' to be okay.¡± There were so many things Little Jerrika wanted to say to her mommy, but no words would come out. How could they? This angel was taken from her four years ago and now she''s just showed up out of nowhere. The young blonde wasted all the time she had to prepare for this moment. Too much of her time was spent being hurt, scared, and angry. She was left speechless.

    All Jerrika could do was cry.

    She expected Mommy to be upset with her.

    But Lynn just smiled, unfazed by her daughter''s silence.

    ¡°Baby, it''s okay. You don''t have to say anythin''. I understand.¡± She let out her famous Lynn Blue giggle that she always did when she was happy. Lynn never needed to be entertained or amused; she laughed because life was too short to cry. The moment she heard the laugh, Jerrika knew that her eyes weren''t deceiving her. This really was her mommy!

    No, it ain''t. It''s some cocksucker that gets his kicks from harassin'' the shit out of people like you and me.

    ¡°Listen baby,¡± Lynn said as she stepped down from the table, ¡°there''s a way out. Away from your daddy. You don''t have to expose your life story to everyone at that conference.¡± She held her hand out to the little girl. Her blue eyes sparkled. ¡°I know I''ve been gone for a long time, but I can give you somethin'' that will protect you from any man that thinks he can lay a finger on you.¡±

    Almost too eagerly, Jerrika grabbed her hand.

    Lynn smiled.

    ¡°You got to promise me one thing, baby. Once I give you this gift, you have to get out of Leander¡ªget out of Texas. There''s a place you can go and still have the hope of a bright future. They call it Casa do Dia?o.¡±

    She giggled again.

    ¡°I know it''s a funny name, darlin''. But you''ll get used to it. I promise...but you gotta promise me you''ll go.¡±

    Doan do it, kid.

    Without thinking her decision through, Jerrika instantly nodded her head in agreement.

    Stupid!

    Lynn was suddenly surrounded by a bright light, nearly blinding the small child in the darkly lit house. Red spikes began to come out of Lynn''s pores, like toothpaste being squeezed out of its tube. Jerrika looked in horror as the spikes shot out of her mother and into her face. The child screamed in agony as her blood poured onto the floor beneath her.

    Holy shit...ain''t I glad I fuckin'' said no, you undead bastard.

    Despite all of this blood loss, Jerrika wasn''t dying.

    Lynn simply was draining all of the old, weak blood out of her daughter''s body and replacing it with much stronger, rarer blood.

    It was blood that would make Jerrika a force to be reckoned with.

    Jerrika would no longer be any man''s plaything.

    What, you givin'' her Type O? It ain''t exactly rare, but our immune systems are built like fuckin'' tanks. She''ll need a lot of germs to make her sick!

    Once it seemed like the little girl had no blood left in her frail body, her eyes popped open.

    Only her eyes weren''t the same as they always had been.

    Her once dark sapphire eyes now glowed a neon blue, pupils as white as a blank page.

    What the¡­

    Before she knew it, yellow blonde hair started growing all over the girl''s body.

    Dude.

    Now growing in size, her clothes rip off her body.

    But she wasn''t indecent; her human body has transformed into something much more.

    What the FUCK is goin'' on here?!

    Lynn Blue has now disappeared, being sure to leave in time for Kevin Blue to return home.

    But Jerrika is not afraid.

    Nor is she feeling dread.

    Oh no.

    All the she felt was anger.

    She craved vengeance¡ªrevenge.

    The former child turns slowly to take a good look at her father.

    All of the color in Kevin''s skin is missing.

    He drops his keys onto the floor.

    ¡°Sweet...pea?!¡±

    The creature once known as Jerrika Blue unleashes a bestial roar that pierces her father''s eardrums. The Sheriff turns to leave, but he isn''t even able to run once the monster wraps its mouth around his waist. Her teeth sink deeply into his flesh, his blood now flowing to join with her old child blood on the floor. His bones crunch loudly and, soon, his torso is ripped from his lower half.

    Mary Magdalene''s tits, what the fuck?!

    The beast feeds on her victim. When put into perspective, this fate was the fairest Kevin Blue could''ve possibly hoped for. He had spent four years feeding his own primitive hunger. But man has always been guilty of being excessively greedy. The Sheriff of Leander had his proper fill, but what about Little Jerrika? She''s been starving for far too long. Now it was her turn to feed. And she was going to ensure that she never went hungry again.

    His bones crunch easily in her teeth.

    His blood makes her taste buds tingle.

    His flesh is salty, coated in sweat from the hard work he had done that day.

    And as good as he tasted while there, his disappearance meant the breaking of Jerrika''s chains.

    But her work isn''t done yet.

    There were still children who needed help.

    The smell leads the way.

    This was a much better idea than writing a story.

    The smell leads the way.

    She breaks through the window without looking back.

    The smell leads the way¡­

    ¡­

    ¡­

    What the serious fuck did I just watch?

    Somebody¡ªanybody¡ªwake me the hell up!

 Chapter Eight: Sit Down and Shut Up

    Somebody¡ªanybody¡ªwake me the hell up!

    ¡­

    My eyes opened slowly. A monotonous rhythm of beeps stirred me from my slumber. I wasn''t gonna complain, though. I was already fairly sleep-deprived from the night before, so this was nothing. Besides, a fucking atom bomb would''ve been considered an appreciated wake-up call from...whatever the hell that shit show was. Can you even remotely blame me here?

    Traumatized little girls?

    Perverted cops?

    Goddamn werewolves?!

    This shit, ladies and gentlemen¡ªthis was all shit I never asked to see in my head.

    As my eyes met with the ceiling, it didn''t take me long to figure out that my folks had me taken to the hospital after passing out in the kitchen. I noticed that I was still wearing my sweatpants and wife-beater, so that was good. That meant no creepy white coats were fighting over who could take my underwear off while I was asleep. Looking around the room, I discovered that the beeping sound was coming from a heart rate monitor. I watched the lines go in a steady pattern. Guess that''s normal; ain''t dying or anything, so at least I have that on my side.

    I tried to sit up, but I instantly became incredibly dizzy as a result. Double vision was hitting me hardcore, making me gag a time or two. Next thing I know, my right hand is covering my mouth when I feel my eggs come up into my mouth. I look over at the side of the bed and see what looks like a bedpan sitting on the floor. With no other options, I vomited all over the bedpan and partially on the white-tiled floor. Boy, I pitied the poor bastard that was gonna have to clean that; because it sure as hell wasn''t gonna be me.

    The sound of me upchucking triggered a nurse to rush into the room. Looking about in her mid-twenties, she had long black hair and brown skin. Her eyes were only a tad darker than her flesh and her full lips were colored purple. She was a looker, alright; which made me even more embarrassed that she had to see me lose my breakfast all over her floor.

    I rubbed my mouth over the back of my hand. ¡°Sawrry ''bout that.¡± She looked reasonably uncomfortable at the sight of fresh puke, but she smiled anyway. ¡°It''s okay, Mr. Boy. Nothin'' you could help.¡± She quickly looked outside in the hallway. ¡°Can somebody send Joe to Room 104? Patient got sick on the floor.¡±

    I closed my eyes, trying to make the dizzy spell go away. ¡°Here, lemme get you somethin'' to help,¡± the nurse said in a gentle tone. Her high-heels clapped against the hard floor while I took a couple of deep breaths. ¡°W-What time is it? What day is it?¡± The sound of her heels came over towards me and I opened my eyes to look up at her.

    She offered me another smile. ¡°It''s about three in the afternoon,¡± she said while handing me a bottle of water and small pack of crackers, ¡°and it''s Sunday. Third of December.¡± I cocked an eyebrow at her, not completely satisfied with her answer. ¡°Year?¡± She giggled, eyes sparkling. They displayed a similar glow that Lynn...the girl''s mom...had from that crazy daydream. This was a woman who purposely sought out excuses to laugh during her off time. I''d normally find this trait sexy in a woman, but for the moment I was more rattled than anything. You understand.

    ¡°1989! You only been here since this morning, sir. Don''t you worry.¡± I sighed with relief. ¡°Thank God...¡± I muttered under my breath. With all the crazy shit that''s been happening to me lately, I considered it a miracle that Zombie Bastard would only keep me out for a couple of hours.

    Not even a whole day!

    Undead prick was slipping, here.

    ¡°Your family will be happy to hear you woke up. Your step-dad was practically in tears when y''all came in. Shoutin'' ¡°I didn''t mean to hit him so hard! I''m a terrible father! I''m so sorry!¡± Poor guy thought he''d killed you!¡± I wouldn''t call Roy a terrible father, but his picture was in the dictionary right next to the word ¡°stupid¡±. ¡°Nah, he didn''t even hit me all that hard.¡± She nodded. ¡°Yeah, we ran a couple of tests while you were asleep. No sign of head injuries,¡± she paused for a moment to laugh, ¡°so we called your step-dad and told him he had nothin'' to worry about.¡±

    I grinned smugly at the pretty nurse. I knew I wasn''t some pussy that''s knocked out by the slightest love tap. Though that still didn''t explain why it made my head hurt so goddamn much. And I would say that it didn''t explain why I fainted in the first place, but I didn''t really need an explanation for that. You and I both know exactly why that happened. However, I admittedly was curious as to what the medical explanation for this bullshit was. There was approximately a ninety-nine percent chance that it was completely wrong, but I felt like being entertained.

    I put the crackers in my lap and unscrewed the top on the bottled water. ¡°Did you guys figure anythin'' out?¡± I asked as I took a drink. She smiled weakly at me. ¡°I don''t think I''m at liberty to say, sir. Dr. Brakus might have a fit if I say anythin'' without his permission.¡±

    Right, so fuck that answer.

    ¡°See, when you say it like that, it makes me think you guys found some kinda rare cancer in my blood or somethin''. Doan you be holdin'' back any bad news from me, Miss...¡± I paused to read the name tag over her left breast, ¡°...Rachael Johnson.¡± She giggled again, waving her hand in a manner indicating dismissal. ¡°No sir, nothin'' like that. I promise.¡± I took another swig from my bottle of water. Thus began my game of Twenty Questions.

    ¡°Do I got a brain tumor?¡±

    She shook her head.

    ¡°No sir.¡±

    ¡°Low blood sugar?¡±

    ¡°No, sir.¡±

    ¡°How about low blood pressure?¡±

    ¡°No, Mr. Boy.¡±

    ¡°It''s diabetes, ain''t it?¡±

    She made a funny looking face.

    It displayed a mindset battling between two particular thoughts.

    The first thought was, ¡°Oh my lord, I''m ''bout to punch this asshole in the dick if he doan quit askin'' so many damn questions.¡±

    The second thought was, ¡°Man, I know somethin'' he doan. I wanna tell him, but my beautiful paycheck!¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Is my anorexia finally killin'' me?¡±

    She cocked her head.

    ¡°You ain''t anorexic, mister.¡±

    That''s right; I ain''t anorexic.

    But it was yet another question to grate on her nerves.

    ¡°Am I pregnant?¡±

    She crossed her arms.

    ¡°Now you playin''.¡±

    I grinned wide at her.

    ¡°You didn''t answer my question, Rachael.¡±

    She glared at me.

    ¡°You ain''t gonna quit, are you?¡±

    I winked at her.

    ¡°I never quit, honey.¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°''Ight, if I tell you, will you promise not to tell the doctor?¡± I nodded and took another drink from my bottle. Victory was mine. There ain''t no room for losers in this dojo; only masters of the art of negotiation such as yours truly. ¡°If I ain''t dyin'', then what''s wrong with me?¡±

    She sat on the edge of my bed, looking over her shoulder for a moment. ¡°We ran some tests on you while you were asleep. Not all the tests the doctor wanted, though. Some of them we had to wait until you woke up to do them. We checked your blood¡ªnothin'' wrong. Checked your heart rate¡ªnormal. We did a couple of tests on your brain, like I said earlier. There wasn''t any injuries, but...¡± She stopped for a moment to look over her shoulder again. ¡°We did see that your brain was havin'' a lot of activity.¡±

    I cocked an eyebrow at her. ¡°So? Ain''t that normal?¡± She sighed quietly. ¡°Well, yeah. But it''s just that...well, the particular parts of your brain that were active gave Dr. Brakus room to speculate.¡± I took another drink. ¡°Do tell.¡±

    She looked over her shoulder again. ¡°Your amydala was displayin'' some of the highest levels of activity durin'' our test. Now, this is pretty normal...but it''s usually not the strongest part of your brain that''s active durin'' regular dreams. The amydala, Mr. Boy, is often associated with fear and nightmares. The second most active part of your brain was the frontoparietal cortex. This part of your brain is usually associated with lucid dreamin'', or the phenomenon of you bein'' self-aware in your dreams. So this led the doctor to believe that you were havin'' quite an unpleasant dream durin'' your sleep.¡±

    No shit.

    ¡°Okay, so I was havin'' a bad dream. What does that gotta do with me passin'' out?¡± She gave me a smile that reminded me of Heidi when she was trying to calm me down from one of my episodes. ¡°Lucid nightmares are usually common in people with a form of...mental illness, Mr. Boy.¡± She leaned forward a bit to whisper. ¡°Dr. Brakus thinks that maybe you faintin'' had to do with somethin'' on that note. And after askin'' your folks about any history pertainin'' to mental illness, he has reason to believe that his hunch ain''t too far off.¡±

    I cocked an eyebrow.

    So I fainted because I''m crazy.

    Seriously?

    What a quack of a doctor.

    ¡°Honey, I definitely have a couple screws loose. But why does he think that alone is enough to make me pass out?¡± She looked over her shoulder for the billionth time. ¡°Your step-dad mentioned that you had tendencies to get...overexcited at times. Too much anxiety can often trigger panic attacks, which in turn can trigger faintin''.¡±

    I snorted. ¡°Ain''t ever happened before, why should it start now?¡± Her eyebrows straightened, eyes lowering a bit. ¡°Maybe somethin'' happened to you that affected you much more than you think.¡± She put a hand on my shoulder. ¡°There ain''t no shame in talkin'' to somebody ''bout your problems. New York has some of the best psychiatrists around.¡±

    Now that was funny.

    ¡°Thanks for the concern, but I''m gonna pass. Last time they had me on meds, I was so fuckin'' sedated that I wouldn''t been able to tell if you just sliced my gut open with a fuckin'' chainsaw or not.¡± She got up from my bed. ¡°You''ll have to tell that to Dr. Brakus, too. Otherwise he''s gonna be givin'' you an entire list of all of the available mental health specialists within fifty miles of this hospital.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Just doan make me repeat it to every single white coat in this buildin'' and I''ll be fine.¡±

    She nodded and walked over to the door.

    ¡°Just be careful, okay? Mental health is still important, you know.¡±

    I chuckled.

    ¡°You sound like my...step-sister.¡±

    I had to stop myself from referring to Heidi as anything else.

    I''m sure it ultimately didn''t matter what I called her to this stranger, but it was the principle of it all.

    She smiled.

    ¡°People care, Mr. Boy. Remember that.¡±

    And with that, she left the room just in time for the rather disheveled janitor to come in and gripe about the mess on the floor.

    I ignored my new guest for the entirety of his time in my room. My mind was far too preoccupied on more important matters. A lot of unnecessary bullshit has happened to me over the last...not even twenty-four hours. The movies lied to me; they said this type of shit was spaced out within at least forty-eight goddamn hours. I felt scammed, bamboozled, and violated by Hollywood and its douchebag producers.

    But that does beg the question: how would this shit affect me over longer periods of time¡ªsay a couple of days?

    ...

    Well, ladies and gentlemen, I got the answers for you right fucking here.

    So sit down, shut up, and read.

    ¡­

    The rest of December 3<sup>rd</sup> went fairly okay. Dr. Bullshit came in to my room and ran two tests on me. One ¡°test¡± was basically just him asking me about my history regarding fainting episodes. He was vastly disappointed to hear that this had been my very first time, because that meant he couldn''t just send me home.

    The second test was a stress test, also known as the ¡°scare the shit out of the patient to see how he reacts to extremely stressful situations¡± test. Rachael had to come back to the room for this one. It wasn''t to assist the doctor, mind you. It was to hold me back from beating the living hell out of the white coat prick every time he made me watch a video that ended with Regan MacNeil''s face popping up while being accompanied by loud screams.

    Needless to say, this didn''t do me any favors in proving to this guy that I didn''t need some cunt with a clipboard to tell me that I needed two-thousand milligrams of Lithium a day to be considered ¡°normal¡±. So when that conversation finally did happen between me and Dr. I Cheated My Way Through Medical School, he stood his ground. He even brought his retarded list of recommendations like Rachael said he would. Unfortunately, he wasn''t messing with some kinda pushover¡ªnot today.

    He told me I needed to consider seeking counseling.

    I told him counseling has never worked for me.

    He told me I just ain''t found the right doctor.

    I told him ¡°the right doctor¡± was living in the same neighborhood as Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and God.

    He warned me that my mental illness could potentially kill me one day.

    I told him that was bullshit because nothing could kill me.

    He tried to guilt trip me by making the point that my behavior harms my loved ones, too.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    I told him their behavior harms me as well, but that ain''t ever stopped them from doing it before.

    He begged me to quit fighting him on this.

    I told him to go shove his Ph.D up his ass.

    He eventually threw his arms up in defeat and told me he''d call my folks and let them know I was okay. I grinned smugly at the sonuvabitch and presented him with the Italian ¡°fuck you¡± hand gesture as he left the room. I noticed that he had left his stupid list on the end table beside my bed. So I grabbed it and immediately started brainstorming on what I''d do to it.

    Should I just throw it away?

    Nah, too boring.

    Should I rip it to shreds?

    Nah, too easy.

    Should I use it to wipe my ass?

    Nah, too uncomfortable.

    Once Roy finally arrived at the hospital to take me home, I stuck the note in my pocket with the plan of using my lighter to set the damn thing on fire. Because goddammit was I past due for a motherfucking cigarette. I could practically feel my teeth chattering and hands shaking in anticipation for my next smoke. I could''ve punched Roy in the throat when he told me he brought my pack, but forgot my lighter.

    And no, the lighter in my old man''s 1978 modeled Trans-Am didn''t work.

    Ain''t worked since the day he bought the hunk of shit in the attempt to be young again.

    Roy offered to take me out to eat since I didn''t get to eat much of my breakfast that morning. I reminded him that, in the whole ¡°no shirt, no shoes¡± deal, I was sorta lacking in the shoes department. He apologized and pulled in to Burger King''s drive-thru lane. He ordered me three Whoppers, two large fries, and a large Cola.

    ¡°The fuck Roy¡ªyou tryin'' to give me a heart attack here?¡± He gave me a look. ¡°You ain''t eat shit today, Genghis. And the doctor told me that you threw up the very little you did eat when you woke up. So you need as much food in you as your stomach will allow.¡± I cocked an eyebrow at him. ¡°What if I puke all over the dashboard?¡± He snorted. ¡°Either you''ll clean it up or your dad will put you back in the hospital.¡±

    I chuckled.

    ¡°Wish he would,¡± I murmured.

    We got the food and Roy drove the two of us back home. Though the drive was awkward, seeing as how every now and then he''d look over at me to make sure I was actually eating. He didn''t seem too pleased that I started my meal off with the french fries as opposed to the burgers. C''mon, everybody knows fries are only good when they''re fresh out of the fryer. Otherwise, they get cold and stale tasting. Burgers can always be reheated and still taste good; no amount of reheating will ever restore the original hot, salty flavor of french fries. You gotta take advantage of that fresh fry taste immediately after getting them!

    Considering the large portion of food Roy had given me, I, of course, didn''t finish all of it upon getting home. I ate both of my large fries, about half of one of the burgers, and drank all my Cola. I didn''t want to make myself sick a second time that day, so I just stuffed all my leftovers in the fridge and went to my room. My old man didn''t say a word to me, instead just mumbling something along the lines of ¡°Well, he ain''t dead.¡±

    Not that I minded; Daddy-O was a pretty lame conversationalist.

    I didn''t get my charming personality from him, that''s for damn sure.

    The rest of the night went alright. Heidi was out with Paul, so I had the room to myself. First thing I did was crack a window and light a cigarette. After the first hit of tobacco, I let out a moan that sounded almost like I was getting a killer blowjob. What? You try being an active smoker and having to go all goddamn day without one motherfucking cigarette. You''d nearly cum in your sweatpants after getting one, too.

    During my blissful state, I reached over to my radio and switched it on. It was just a bunch of radio chatter, talking about bullshit George H. W. Bush did today amongst other totally unimportant things. In local news, nothing new pertaining to the murder showed up; rather just a bunch of recapping on what the cops already knew. I didn''t know if I should be proud of myself for making things so hard for the police, or if I should feel embarrassed on the behalf of the NYPD for their incompetence. As they droned on, I pulled the note from my pocket and used the end of my cigarette to light it on fire. Once it was well lit, I allowed it to drop all way down to the street. My fireball made its landing, but unfortunately didn''t set anybody''s hair on fire. Sad.

    After finishing my cigarette, I gathered a clean pair of night clothes and went to go take a shower. I spent my time in there doing what most people do in the shower; spending only a few minutes bathing and the rest of the time letting their thoughts wonder all over the place. I pondered what Zombie Bastard''s next move would be. He''s already got me sent to the hospital once; surely he won''t do that again, right? A part of me wondered how this would all end. Would it end with me going batshit crazy and killing every motherfucker that looks at me funny? Would it end with the NYPD getting their heads outta their asses and bringing me in?

    Or, somehow, would it end with me going to Casa do Dia?o after all?

    How could it?

    I don''t even know where this goddamn place is.

    Zombie Bastard told me nothing.

    Genghis Two told me nothing.

    ¡°Lynn Blue¡± told me nothing.

    Are they implying that I''ll become a werewolf if I agree to Zombie Bastard''s offer?

    Would I want to become a werewolf?

    I mean, that just seems like such a frustrating lifestyle.

    Every time the moon comes up, you transform into a dog.

    Can you imagine trying to make love to your sweetheart and then, out of nowhere, you''re turning into a ravenous beast?

    You''d go from eating her out to just plain old eating her!

    On the other hand, I''d become a fucking bad-ass if I could transform into a giant murderous dog.

    But ain''t I already bad-ass enough?

    Giving me the ability to become a werewolf just seems like overkill, in my opinion.

    I must''ve been in the shower much longer than I thought, because eventually Heidi surprised me by pulling the curtain open. ¡°Yo! Heidi, what''re you¡ª¡± She put a finger over her lips and began to slowly strip in front of me. I raised an eyebrow, finding myself not all that upset over this intrusion. Once she was naked, she reached down to pull something from her jacket. Emerging in her hand was the last condom from the glove compartment of my Jeep. I silently kicked myself in the ass for forgetting to ask Roy to drive me to the store so I could get a new box. She stepped into the shower with me and kissed my lips. ¡°You feelin'' better, babyboy?¡± I grabbed both of her breasts and squeezed gently. ¡°Am now, babygirl,¡± I rasped before kissing her back.

    Thus concluding December 3<sup>rd</sup>.

    ...

    The next couple of days were fairly boring.

    The NYPD released nothing new regarding the gas station murder.

    I stayed home for the most part, as per doctor''s orders.

    I only left once because Roy gave me twenty bucks to go buy some dinner ingredients at the store.

    Nothing came from the trip; just the cashier girl giving me a funny look when she scanned my box of three dollar Durex condoms.

    Zombie Bastard sent me fucked up mental images every now and then, but nothing that I ain''t seen already.

    Granted, it still succeeded in keeping me constantly on edge.

    Who knew what he was gonna do next?

    Why was he keeping me in suspense like this?

    I eventually grew a little stir crazy and decided to leave the apartment one day.

    For my own sanity, really.

    This turned out to be a major mistake.

    It was Thursday, December 7<sup>th</sup>.

    ¡­

    It was about twelve in the afternoon when I suddenly found myself in my Jeep, staring at the steering wheel. The key was in the ignition, but I hadn''t fired up the engine yet. Truth be told, I didn''t have the slightest clue of where I wanted to go.

    All I knew was that I wanted to go.

    Get the hell out of the apartment.

    Away from Dad.

    Away from Roy.

    Away from Heidi.

    Away from Paul.

    Away from my TV.

    Away from my bed.

    Just away.

    Far away.

    But where the hell was I gonna go? The only friends I had from high school were all a bunch of pillhead virgins that spent most of their time either getting high or catcalling girls. Drugs, admittedly, sounded really nice right about now. Lord knows I needed something to ease my paranoia. And it had been a little too long since I''d snorted enough snow to make me feel like I was on a cloud.

    But, as I stated before, the only people I knew that had access to these goods were a bunch of pigs that got their kicks from harassing women they didn''t know. I never saw the appeal of shouting overly sexual things at girls on the street. What do other guys think is gonna happen when they do that? The girl is just gonna stop dead in her tracks, drop her panties, and present to him her tight little asshole? I''m sorry fellas, but that ain''t how getting laid works. Realistically speaking, all catcalling''s gonna get you is her kneeing you in the balls.

    So yeah, seeing those guys was a no-go for me.

    At least for today, anyway.

    After deciding to just wing it, I turned the key to crank up the engine. Once it started, the first thing to pop up on the radio was the second verse of Billy Idol''s version of ¡°Mony Mony¡±. ¡°Well you could shake it, Mony Mony...shot gun dead and I''ll come on home, yeah...¡± I escaped from my parking space and hit the road. Once I reached my first red light, I rolled my window down and lit a cigarette. I hung my left arm outside the window as it held my cancer stick. The brick New York air made my face feel cold, but didn''t bother me too much otherwise. My midnight blue hooded sweatshirt had extra padding on the inside, so all was good.

    Nice and snug.

    Ideal for cold weather.

    Also ideal alternative to wear when the police recognize your other jacket that you own.

    The light turned green and I continued onward. The awkward thing about driving without an exact destination is that you never know if you should make certain turns or not. Should I make a left on 3<sup>rd</sup>, or keep going straight until I reach the point where I can cut off to Flatbush? Really, the only street I was absolutely avoiding was Atlantic Avenue for obvious reasons. The only problem with this, however, was that Atlantic was considered one of the major roads in the borough. Like, you have to at least pass it to go any-goddamn-where in Brooklyn. Maybe I''d just say ¡°fuck Brooklyn¡± and drive all the way to Staten Island to chill out at the harbor for a while. Enjoy the sea and shit. Of course, it was an hour drive from my apartment when you take traffic into account. If you can get a day when nobody was out driving around, which is impossible in the state of New York, then maybe you can get there in forty to forty-five minutes. Otherwise, you better bring a book or something; it will be a while.

    Alas, I made these ¡°sorta¡± plans in my head...but stayed on 9<sup>th</sup> street instead. Why did I do that? Because I''m fucking retarded, that''s why. And because following Billy Idol on the radio was one of my biggest guilty pleasures, also known as Stevie Nicks. ¡°Just like the white winged dove¡ªSings a song, sounds like she''s singing!¡± As soon as the beginning guitar sounded, I found myself belting the lyrics to this woman''s song. Which ultimately distracted me from making the desired turn in my last minute adventure to Staten Island.

    Some men are distracted by a pair of tits.

    Some are distracted by delicious meals.

    Hell, some of them are even distracted by cute little animals.

    Me?

    Stevie Nicks.

    Whether it''s Fleetwood Mac or her solo band, just play any song that involves her singing and I''ll be on the first bus to La-La Land.

    And the best part about being alone in my car?

    I could sing as loudly and obnoxiously as I wanted to and absolutely nobody could do a damn thing about it.

    So that''s exactly what I did. ¡°And the days go by¡ªlike a strand in the wind in the web that is my own...I begin again¡ªsaid to my friend, baby...nothin'' else mattered...¡± I did my best to mimic her powerful voice. ¡°He was no more than a baby then! Well he seemed broken hearted¡ªsomething within him...¡± But, as you can imagine, this endeavor was much harder than it sounds. ¡°But the moment! That I first laid! Eyes. On. Him. All alone on the edge oooooof...seventeeeeeeeen!¡±

    Unfortunately, before I could get too far into the song, my low fuel gauge light came on. ¡°Sonuvabitch,¡± I cursed aloud to nobody in particular. How dare my car cockblock me from my Stevie? Bastard! Heap of mechanical shit¡ªfuck off! Thoroughly annoyed, I pulled into the Speedway station, parked next to one of the pumps, and killed the engine.

    ¡°Uh-oh. Genghis Boy is stepping foot in another gas station. Let''s hope he doesn''t kill anymore teenagers.¡±

    Annnnnd Zombie Bastard decided to make an appearance, too.

    Perfect.

    ¡°Why doan you just fuck off already, dude? Why are you so obsessed with my everyday life?¡± I thought in my head as I exited my Jeep and dropped my cigarette butt onto the ground. He laughed as I approached the building. ¡°Oh please, you''re hardly a chuckle''s worth of entertainment. I''m just doing my job. You know what a job is, right? I know it must seem like a foreign concept, seeing as how you don''t have one.¡± I growled aloud. ¡°So your job is jerk off to every little thing I do? I doan believe dat for a second!¡± I accidentally said this aloud, which earned me a rather shocked look from a group of elderly women that were standing outside the station. I flashed them an embarrassed grin and slapped my head, hoping maybe I could beat him out of my thoughts.

    ¡°Think of me as merely a representative for a land that you, quite frankly, have no choice but to go to.¡± I approached the counter, but didn''t realize I was still talking to Zombie Bastard verbally. ¡°So you''re just a fuckin'' salesman that doan know when to fuck off and go pester the next goddamn house, then?¡± The young, pimpled cashier stared at me blankly. ¡°...s''cuse me, sir?¡±

    I cleared my throat, but was rudely interrupted.

    ¡°I think my technique is quite satisfactory, honestly. You''re just a lousy custo¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fuck you! Fuck you! Vaffanculo! Leave me the hell alone!¡±

    I shouted this a little too loudly, as everybody in the whole store stopped what they were doing to look at the rambling madman at the counter. The cashier, understandably, looked scared shitless. I looked at the cashier with wide eyes at the realization of what I just did and pointed to my car outside. ¡°Ten on that pump out there, please.¡± His jaw still hanging, the kid took my cash with shaky hands and nodded.

    Welp, that was now two gas stations I could never show my face around again.

    In my hurry to get the hell outta there, I unscrewed my gas cap and got to filling up. Unfortunately, this task proved to be more catastrophic than you''d think. First off, I had literally every dickhead from the inside of the gas station staring at me from the building. Secondly, the gas pump I was using had a mini TV on it.

    Yeah, a mini TV.

    And just guess what was fucking playing.

    Paul can take his ¡°technological advancements¡± and shove them up his fucking urethra.

    ¡°We have breaking news for those of you in the Brooklyn area,¡± said the same news lady from before. She wore less make-up this time, but she made the awkward choice of wearing bright red lipstick with a navy blue overcoat. ¡°In the ongoing investigation of the grisly murder of Jacob Summers last Saturday, more witnesses have come forward to provide the police further details.¡± The shot transitioned to a familiar face.

    The face?

    The fat guy that Paul bumped into when I punched him.

    Fuck me.

    ¡°I seen ''dese two dudes come in, right? One kept tawlkin'' big game ''bout bein'' a law-abidin'' citizen. The other guy, though? He just came across as some -bleep- off -bleep-head...¡± Well fuck you too, stranger. I hope the diagnosis of Diabetes II don''t kill you too quickly. ¡°...and so after a while, the scowlin'' guy punches the other guy, makin'' him bump into me. I wanna say that this was not too long befawh that kid was murdered. If yuh ask me? I say that guy did it. The other guy seemed too much like a sawftie to have a killin¡¯ bone in his body. It''s obviously the more violent one¡ªthe other guy ain''t even a -bleep-in'' suspect in my book.¡±

    I punched the small screen as hard as I could, cracking it majorly, but not totally breaking it.

    Through the cracks, the news lady returned.

    ¡°The NYPD have also released the facial composites of the two suspected murderers.¡±

    The drawings appeared on the screen.

    My heart leaped out of my chest.

    You know how they say police sketches almost never look like the suspects they''re chasing?

    Yeah, not in this motherfucking case.

    Both me and Paul''s portraits were drawn perfectly.

    Everything was on point.

    From my jawline to my cheekbones, every little detail was spot-on.

    Even Paul''s boyish looking face was accurate.

    It was like looking in a mirror almost.

    By instinct, I removed the gas nozzle from my car and screwed my cap back on as fast as I could.

    I threw my hood over my head, got into my car, fired the engine up, and sped home like a bat out of hell.

 Chapter Nine: Addio, New York!

    Honk.

    ¡°Ay watch it, asswipe!¡±

    Pedal to the metal, rolling out at sixty in a forty-five. Speed is only getting faster as the drugs start to take over my system. What drugs were those, you ask? To put it simply, it was the chemicals in my own brain. They were firing left, right, up, down, around, here, there¡ªall over the fucking place.

    First, a hit of ¡°I''m a goddamn moron¡±.

    Beep.

    ¡°Learn to fuckin'' drive!¡±

    My thoughts go back to the Speedway station. Those motherfuckers saw my face as clear as day. They heard my voice¡ªseen my car. It was only a matter of time before they saw the police sketch and reported me to the cops. They''d spout all sorts of bullshit opinions about my ¡°bizarre behavior¡± and then probably send in my license plate number. The cops would pull my record out and see all my past offenses. They''d immediately know that I was guilty and have me sent to Rikers faster than you can drop a pen.

    Next, a shot of ¡°Fuck my life¡±.

    Even if the bozos at the gas station didn''t say anything, there were plenty of other people who could rat me out to the NYPD. Jacob Summers went to the same high school I graduated from. No, I wasn''t on the football team or anything, but don''t you think for a second that that blowhard coach didn''t know who I was. Lord knows I got in more than enough fights with his boys for the name ¡°Genghis Boy¡± to be permanently etched into his long-term memory. Though, to be fair, even people who don''t know me would have a very hard time forgetting a name as ridiculous as mine. I''m just being brutally honest here.

    I know what you''re thinking.

    ¡°You''re twenty years old, Genghis. You doan even know if he''s still employed with the school.¡±

    Unfortunately, you''d be wrong.

    The ol'' meathead loves his job more than he loves his own kids. The school pays him well, gives him all the benefits he needs. Plus he apparently only lives a little ways from campus, so the commute everyday is convenient for him. He''s one of those guys that will one day be ninety-three years old and still be screaming pointers at his team. I can see it now; his voice will croak every time he attempts to scream and, for every time he''s able to raise his voice by about ten decibels, he''ll shit his adult diaper. But fucking A he''ll still keep his decrepit ass on that field! Unless he gets caught with dirty pictures of his quarterback or something, he''ll never lose his job. And one year ain''t gonna be enough to make that man quit, no matter what kind of changes are implemented to the athletics department.

    Yeah yeah, I''ve only been out of school a year.

    I got expelled once word got out that I was a junkie and a murderer. The school refused to let me back in until I was ¡°clean¡±, so to speak. Naturally, I lied my way back into that dump, but I was forced to repeat my sophomore year. I graduated from Franklin Delano Roosevelt High School at the age of nineteen. Needless to say, not nearly enough time has passed for me to become a mere memory to those who thought they could rule over me.

    Meaning my name was at the tip of a lot of people''s tongues.

    Teachers.

    Classmates.

    Ex-girlfriends.

    Soup kitchen staff.

    Hospital staff.

    Cashiers at various locations.

    That police officer that Paul talked to the night of the murder¡­

    ¡­

    That fuck saw me, too.

    And he spoke to Paul.

    That boy scout doomed us both.

    ¡­

    There ain''t no way I can hide now.

    Not with that picture perfect sketch of me on everybody''s television set.

    But don''t you think for one goddamn second that I was gonna throw in the towel.

    Not now.

    Give me that huge injection of ¡°It ain''t over ''till I say it''s over¡±.

    Hoooonk!

    ¡°Dickhead!¡±

    Gritting my teeth, I crank the volume on my radio as high as it will go to tune out the other drivers. A roaring guitar riff courtesy of Metallica hits my eardrums. I ain''t got time to apologize to you faceless drivers. I''m too busy protecting my ass from your lawmen.

    ¡°We¡¯re scanning the scene in the city tonight! We¡¯re looking for you to start up a fight!¡±

    The drivers in front of me are too slow, so I drive over onto the motherfucking sidewalk to pass the whole line of them.

    ¡°There¡¯s an evil feeling in our brains, but it¡¯s nothing new¡ªyou know it drives us insane!¡±

    I brush my fingertips under my chin at all the drivers honking their horns and flipping me the bird, letting them know I give zero shits about their anger.

    ¡°Running! On our way¡ªHiding!¡±

    Cue the flashing lights in my rear-view mirror the second I get back onto the road.

    ¡°You will pay¡ªDying! One thousand deaths!¡±

    A part of me wants to kick my own ass for drawing attention to myself. Another part of me has no regrets. These bastards are gonna figure out who I am regardless of how well I drive. It''s better to get it all out now rather than make it drag out longer than it already has been. Even nutsos like me need a break every now and then, you know? So I remove the hood from my head, exposing my handsome face to the world again, and speed away from the cop car.

    ¡°Running! On our way¡ªHiding!¡±

    Even with my Jeep''s booming sound system, I can still hear the sonuvabitch''s siren go off.

    ¡°You will pay¡ªDying! One thousand deaths!¡±

    He speeds up to catch up with my bumper, probably taking care to memorize my license plate number.

    ¡°Searching...seek and destroy!¡±

    I start swerving all over the road, literally attempting to shake the motherfucker off my ass.

    If I have any ounce of luck, maybe I can make him ram into a streetlight or something.

    ¡°Searching...seek and DESTROY!¡±

    We go like this through a couple of traffic lights, one passing through an intersection with incoming traffic.

    ¡°Searching...seek and destroy!¡±

    I attempt to lean a little close for comfort to the line of cars, hoping he''ll fall for the bait.

    ¡°Searching...seek and destroy!¡±

    My Jeep side-swipes a white van. This results in my side mirror breaking off my driver''s side door and cracking my window. However, my trap works and the stupid officer ends up colliding head-on with the same vehicle. ¡°Hell yeah!¡± I yell to nobody in particular, pleased with my success.

    ¡°There is no escape and that¡¯s for sure! This is the end¡ªwe won''t take any more!¡±

    Unfortunately, my victory is short-lived once another cop car starts blaring his siren at me. ¡°Oh for fuck''s sake!¡± I shout, beating my hands against my steering wheel. I continue running, hoping I can find a good cut-off point to finally ditch these dirtbags.

    ¡°Say goodbye to the world you live in! You¡¯ve always been taking but now you¡¯re giving!¡±

    As the chorus repeats, I continue my impression of a drunk driver by purposely swerving like a jackass on the road. This cop, however, ain''t having any of my shit and he rams into my fucking bumper. ¡°Shit!¡± I utter through my teeth. This guy was gonna avenge the probable death of his fellow officer, even if it meant totaling his own ride. It amazes me that the NYPD is so willing to hand out badges to suicidal psychos. If I had known cops were this unstable, I would''ve considered joining the force immediately after graduating from high school. I would''ve made a killing¡ªmaybe even got promoted to detective within my first year!

    The guitar solo hits and there is only one sure way I''m gonna get rid of this bozo. I reach under my driver''s seat and grab my most trustworthy partner of all time. Rolling down my window, I cock Myra and poke my head outside. Watching the pig following me, my left hand brings the gun to join me outside the car while my other hand holds onto the steering wheel. Aiming for the prick''s front wheel, I fire once to get past the empty shot and then pull the hammer back down.

    I pull the trigger.

    His tire explodes, making his car spin out before ultimately rolling a couple of times in the road.

    Bulls-eye.

    Before another squad car can show up, me and Myra both retreat back into my Jeep. I nearly miss my intended turn and almost spin-out trying to make it in time. The sides of my car scrape against the brick exteriors of the two buildings I''m squeezing in-between. Imagine gaining weight and then trying to fit into a pair of slacks that you ain''t worn in a year. You manage to get into them after struggling for ten long minutes, but the waistband is so tight that it''s cutting off circulation to your lower body. The feeling of suffocation only worsens when you finally manage to pull the zipper up. After the button pops off not long after fastening it, you''re rendered motionless by your temporary state of self-loathing. Why did you let yourself go like this? You have a gym membership, but you ain''t been there since the day they gave you your membership card. All you did was waste money, and for what? An excuse to make people not think so badly of you when they see you buying six bags of Cool Ranch Doritos at the grocery store.

    That, ladies and gentlemen, is what it feels like trying to cram my Jeep into this tight alleyway.

    Around the time I reach a good point to stop, I kill the engine just as James Hetfield''s voice comes back. A part of me contemplates burning my vehicle registration papers, but what''s the point? The cops will still get all the dirt on me by looking up my plate number, considering I ain''t got a screwdriver or drill to remove the damn thing from my car. And Myra ain''t loaded with any kind of special spread-shot ammo, so that ain''t gonna help me any. As much as I want to at least try covering my ass, I know damn well that I ain''t got the time. So I take only my gun and car keys, climb out of the car, and sprint through the alleyway, straight into the backstreets of Brooklyn.

    ¡°You''re quite the impulsive one, aren''t you?¡±

    Nonono, not this shit¡ªnot now!

    ¡°Leave me alone, you prick!¡± I shout loudly, stuffing Myra into the front pocket of my hooded sweatshirt.

    ¡°Do you think I like having to talk to an insipid fool like you during my spare time? Please.¡±

    I cover my mouth with my right hand as I bolt down the street towards home.

    ¡°Then why do yuh fuckin'' do it?!¡± I say aloud, voice muffled in my palm.

    He sighs loudly in my head.

    ¡°Because, you overly forgetful cretin, it''s my job. I''m required to scout out unfortunate souls such as you and ensure they find their place in Casa do Dia?o. And, judging by your situation now, I''d say you''re left with no other options other than maybe just sticking the barrel of that .45 into that big mouth of yours and ending your misery now.¡±

    Sirens blaring off in the distance suddenly makes my legs move even faster.

    Even though my lungs feel like exploding.

    I don''t need this conversation right now.

    Zombie Bastard can wait until I get shit under control.

    ¡°Oh how cute; the mortal is going to ignore me.¡±

    That''s the plan, you sonuvabitch.

    My hand drops to my side and I notice my apartment building is in sight. ¡°So...close!¡± I rasp out, breathing heavily from all the running. I know, I know¡ªI need to quit smoking. Congratulations, you''re the three hundredth person to tell me that. Here, take a jar full of all the fucks I give; it will make a nice dust collector for your living room.

    Hopping over a group of bushes, I make it to the apartment and burst through the entrance. My index finger pounds into the ¡°call elevator¡± button. Luckily for me, it opens immediately. The moment I step in and hit the ¡°6¡± button, I fall back against the wall, chuckling slightly. Relief swallows me whole, though I know it''s just gonna spit me back up in the next hour or two.

    But it''s still something.

    Some kind of saving grace for me.

    ¡­

    As I tried to get my breath back, he returned.

    ¡°So, what''s it going to be? Are you going to finally listen to me and accept my offer?¡± I sighed. ¡°I know I need to get the hell outta Brooklyn¡ªoutta New York, even. Ain''t nothin'' left for me here. If I stay, I''ll just end up in prison or shot down on the street.¡± He chuckled, pleased with my answer. ¡°It''s about time you¡ª¡± ¡°I didn''t say I was goin'' to Casa do Dia?o, pal. I ain''t got a plan¡ªain''t got time to plan. Let me get out of this first and then we can tawlk about plans.¡±

    He growled loudly, but didn''t say anything else.

    Good; about time he shut up.

    Once the elevator reached my floor, I rushed to the door and unlocked it. Upon entering, the empty living room reminded me that Dad had left for work that morning. At least I was spared from that interaction. Heidi also wasn''t storming up to me to slap me in the face. So things were looking good so far.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Of course, that was before I heard Roy''s voice.

    ¡°Oh, hey¡ªhe just walked in! Lemme get ''im for you, my man.¡± I swore under my breath as Roy popped his head out of the kitchen. ¡°Ay Genghis! You got a phone call. It''s Paul.¡± Of course it''s Paul. Who else would be calling me and leaving Roy sounding this chipper? Especially after what all''s gone down today?

    ¡°I''ll take it in my room,¡± I mumbled, looking away from Roy. He chuckled. ¡°Must be serious; this is the second time he''s called in the last hour.¡± I didn''t respond to the redhead as I entered the bedroom. I guess I should''ve considered myself lucky that my family cared more about paint drying than they did the news.

    As soon as I closed the door behind me, the realization dawned on me that Roy must''ve been home alone. Dad was at work and Heidi wasn''t chilling out in the bedroom. And the muscular carpenter himself was never a big fan of vegging out on the couch unless there was a game on. So while Roy clearly didn''t care, Dad and Heidi simply didn''t have the means to care. Can''t watch the news when there ain''t no TV around to watch it on, right?

    However, it was clear to me that Paul did watch the news.

    What other reason would he have to call me?

    Especially since he apparently called for me twice, very likely waiting by the phone while standing in a puddle of his own piss.

    I didn''t have time for Paul''s whining; I was on an important mission.

    Time to make him fuck off so I could fuck off.

    I picked the phone up by Heidi''s bed.

    I cleared my throat, trying not to sound too rattled. ¡°Yo.¡± It was silent for a moment, but then Paul''s wimpy voice spoke up. ¡°G-Genghis? Is that you?¡± Unfortunately. ¡°No, it''s Heidi. When you comin'' over for some lovin'', big boy?¡± I joked, though delivered the line with a very flat tone. He didn''t think it was funny.

    ¡°Say, Genghis...have you been watching the news today?¡± Keep calm, Genghis. You''re just trying to make this asshole go away so you can pack. ¡°Yerp.¡± He swallowed hard enough for me to hear it over the phone.¡±Crazy, huh...those...those people at the Shell station think...think we¡ª¡± ¡°I know, Paul. I just said I been watchin''.¡± He made a sound that I mistook for a laugh at first, but then it became obvious that the herb was crying over the phone. ¡°My family is threatening to kick me out, Genghis! I told them¡ªover and over again¡ªthat I didn''t do this! They told me to turn myself in and ¡°prove¡± I didn''t do it. How can I do that, man?! I don''t know what I could possibly say that would get the police off my back!¡±

    Gee, Paul.

    I dunno why you''re so fucking tense.

    You didn''t have some lard-ass bluntly point the finger at you on live TV.

    ¡°Your record''s cleaner than a baby''s ass, Paul. It would take a major catastrophe for them to send you over to Rikers.¡± He ignored my rare words of encouragement in order to keep bitching. ¡°What if Heidi sees this?! Oh man...she''ll dump me so fast...no, man. Just no...¡±

    Yeah.

    And she''ll dump me, too.

    ¡°How did this happen, man?! I-I didn''t do anything! I barely even set foot in that bathroom!¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°How do you think I feel, Paul? The retarded witnesses seem to think I did it without question.¡± He sniffs for a moment, now lowering his voice a little over the line. ¡°Well...to be fair¡ª¡± I bit my lip. Here it came; the first accusation.

    ¡°What, Paul?¡±

    He swallowed hard again.

    ¡°You...you were in the bathroom for a while...and you were fairly angry.¡±

    My brow furrowed.

    ¡°You know what I was doin'', Paul.¡±

    ¡°But, was that all? For as long as you were in there, it seems odd that you spent the entire time...you know...urinating.¡±

    Now this bastard was pissing me off.

    ¡°I coulda been doin'' all sawrts of things, Paul. I coulda been jerkin'' off, takin'' a shit, or¡ªyou know¡ªfuckin'' tryin'' to calm the goddamn hell down?!¡±

    He was quiet for a moment.

    ¡°But what were you doing?¡±

    I bit my lip again.

    ¡°Breathin''. Tryin'' to get my anger under control. And then I took a piss. You already know this shit, Paul.¡±

    More brief silence.

    ¡°Why are you so angry at me Genghis? I''m in just as much trouble as you are!¡±

    I was on the verge of screaming at this motherfucker.

    ¡°Because I''m bein'' fuckin'' accused of murder, you dipshit! This ain''t all about you, you snivelin'' cuck! I doan care if your family kicks you out! I doan care if Heidi breaks up with you! The NYPD is pointin'' the finger at me! Me! Not you! Boy Scout Sadler will get off fuckin'' scot-free while the mentally deranged psychopath who''s had multiple run-ins with the NYPD will get the axe immediately! Do you understand, Paul?¡±

    ...

    ¡°Did you kill that boy, Genghis?¡±

    ...

    ¡°No. And you can go fuck yourself for even askin'' that question.¡±

    I slammed the phone down on the receiver.

    ¡­

    He knew.

    I knew he knew.

    Even if he didn''t know for sure, he was absolutely gonna sell me out to Heidi.

    Get her on his side.

    ¡­

    I guess that''s the end of me and Heidi''s relationship, as well.

    ¡°I...I don''t know you, Genghis. You''re not the boy I grew up with.¡±

    No, Heidi.

    I ain''t.

    And I''m sorry.

    Ignoring the quiet tears rolling down my face at that memory, I snagged her notepad and pen from the top of her dresser. I didn''t want to waste too much time here, but I didn''t want to leave her with a half-assed goodbye, either. I wasn''t like Paul, who would spend hours trying to compile some cheesy poem that she''d end up secretly hating. I preferred the more direct approach with my love letters; much easier to write because it''s more natural feeling. And with the minutes of freedom ticking away, I needed natural. So I wrote a short, but meaningful message:

    ¡°I broke your promise, Heidi. After I swore not to. I don''t know why I did it, but I did. There''s nothing I can do to fix it now. What''s done is done. So this is goodbye...for good. I don''t know where I''ll go, but I''ll find a new life elsewhere. You''re better off staying here with Paul. He''ll treat you much better than I ever could. I just want you to know that everything we went through together was real to me...probably the realest thing I''ve ever experienced. You''re the best friend I''ve ever had and I hate myself for not showing you the amount of appreciation you deserve. Be strong and carry on, mio amore. - G.¡±

    I wiped the wetness off my face as I folded the note and placed it under her pillow. Then I grabbed my old, blue backpack from high school and set it on my bed. After taking Myra, my wallet, my pack of cigarettes, my lighter, and my now useless car keys out of my pocket, I removed my hooded sweatshirt and tossed it against the wall. I kicked off my shoes to remove my belt, and then my blue jeans as well. The pants also got tossed against the wall and I walked over to my closet.

    I yanked out a couple of shirts and pairs of pants, ultimately deciding to wear a pair of black jeans and a forest green long-sleeved shirt. The rest of the pulled clothes got stuffed into my bag as well as a couple of boxer shorts and pairs of socks. Next to get packed was my two boxes of hollow-point ammo that I kept hidden at the bottom of my underwear drawer. Next to the ammunition was my bottle of oil hanging out with its pals, oil rag and cleaning rod.

    In the backpack they went.

    Owning a gun is like having a girlfriend.

    You treat her right and take care of her and she''ll do things that will blow your mind.

    So remember, kids; firearm maintenance is important.

    I didn''t bother with personal hygiene items like my toothbrush or razor. They were dirt cheap to buy and small enough to smuggle outside of stores for free. Plus, I wanted to avoid interacting with Roy as much as I possibly could. So that meant all I needed to be done with packing was some time-wasters, things to keep me entertained during my off-time. So I grabbed a couple of VHS tapes, CDs, and my November issue of Hustler from under my mattress. I considered packing a book or two as well, but there wasn''t enough room in the bag to hold them. And I didn''t have enough time to sort what would get replaced so they could fit, so I didn''t bother.

    I stuffed my wallet, smokes, and lighter into my pocket. Due to not owning a proper gun holster, I stuck Myra into my pants with her stock pressed against my lower stomach. I know what you''re thinking. ¡°Genghis, what if you move a certain way and you end up shootin¡¯ yourself in the balls?¡± See, that ain''t gonna happen. Revolvers ain''t like your typical automatic pistols that just needed a button pressed for the safety to be turned off. The hammers on .45s? Those suckers don''t go down easily. You have to put a considerable amount of pressure on them for the gun to cock. Plus, as long as you don''t pull the trigger like a dumbass, you''ll be just fine.

    So I think I''m safe.

    But thank you for your concern.

    After sporting a black New York Yankees cap and my pair of black aviators, I was all set to hit the road. And, right on cue, I heard my old man come home. ¡°Ay, Roy! What''s fawh lunch?¡± he called, followed by the sound of his car keys being tossed onto the coffee table. I grinned wide.

    Car chases with the NYPD ain''t gonna stop this driver.

    No sir.

    I had a set of wheels anyway.

    I put my left arm through one of the straps of my backpack and lifted it to my back. I cracked the bedroom door open just enough to see the situation out in the living room. Dad and Roy were looking at each other, talking about shit that wasn''t relevant. He wore his blue oil-stained mechanic uniform, which told me he decided to come home for his lunch break today. Either way, I hoped he wouldn''t hang out in the living room for his entire break.

    Two minutes passed.

    They were still talking.

    Four minutes.

    They were laughing over some story Dad had about this lady ''s shitty car that he was servicing.

    Five minutes.

    I began tapping my foot, quickly losing my patience.

    Eight minutes.

    Oh my God, fucking eat your goddamn lunch already!

    Finally, after ten fucking minutes of shooting the shit with Roy, Dad walked away while announcing that he''d be ready to eat as soon as he finished taking a monster dump he''d been holding in for almost two hours. Roy made a playful ¡°disgusted¡± noise and stepped into the kitchen. Now was my chance to escape. I had to make this count or else I''d be spending my evening in the back of a squad car.

    Opening the bedroom door, I stepped quietly toward the coffee table. I looked over my shoulder every now and then to make sure Roy wasn''t watching me. Upon getting to the table, I snatched Dad''s keys gently as to avoid them jingling together. Without a second thought, I rushed to the door and left the apartment. As soon as I was out, I bolted for the elevator.

    The elevator was far too slow at coming to my floor. ¡°C''mon you fuckin'' machine¡ªhurry!¡± I growled under my breath. As it opened, I hurried inside and waited to reach the first floor. Upon getting there, I ran outside to Dad''s Trans-Am.

    I entered the car, putting my backpack in the passenger seat.

    My hands shook as I stuck the key into the ignition.

    Shifting into neutral and pressing my foot against the clutch, I fired up the engine.

    I escaped the parking space and re-entered the streets, this time keeping my head down.

    I didn''t know where I was gonna go, but I knew it was gonna be a long drive.

    So I called up an old friend.

    ¡°Alright, tough guy. Why doan you kindly explain how going to Casa do Dia?o is gonna suddenly fix all my problems? No cryptic bullshit this time. Give it to me straight.¡± I said aloud.

    Zombie Bastard laughed wickedly.

    ¡°It will take a while to properly explain, Genghis Boy.¡±

    I looked onward at sights of Brooklyn, knowing this was the last time I''d ever see any of them.

    ¡°I got plenty of time, pal.¡±

 Chapter Nine Point Two: The Tastiest Snack

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°Whose a good little wheek-wheeker? Ah? Whose a good little wheek-wheeker?¡±

    ¡­

    The furry creature stood on his hind-legs, eagerly awaiting his afternoon carrot from his master. The black patch of fur over his right eye brought out the reflective shine of his cornea. Little Fry took great pride in this part of his appearance; it made humans refer to him as ¡°cute¡± and often resulted in him getting treats. It also made him stand out next to his cage-mate, French. She was older than him and lacked a lot of the pep he had in his young age. She also had a boring white coat covering her body, therefore making her less cute than him. French might''ve gotten snacks from their master every now and then, but Fry only got the tastiest snacks.

    ...seriously?

    Dave, French and Fry''s master, grinned at the silly boy and gently scratched behind his ear. Fry smiled as much as a guinea pig was physically able to, basking in the attention that was being stolen from French. At one point, he shot a smug glance over at his cage-mate. Unfortunately, she was sound asleep.

    We went from a little girl bein'' sexually abused to a fuckin'' guinea pig? What the hell?

    After Fry let out another loud ¡°Wheek wheek!¡±, Dave surrendered to his pet and hovered a slice of carrot over his cage.

    Buddy, I told you that I didn''t want anymore cryptic bullshit.

    Mouth watering, the mammal leaped up and caught the carrot in his teeth.

    Four days ago. I asked you four days ago to explain this shit to me.

    Landing on his feet, the little guinea pig happily munched on his lunch.

    I thought maybe you were waitin'' for things to calm down on my end. You said it would take a while to explain all this. So I prepared for it.

    After finishing his snack, Fry spun in a little circle.

    Now here we are, and you''re gonna explain Casa do Dia?o to me usin'' a goddamn guinea pig. Fuck you!

    ¡°Fry, you''re being pig-diculous!¡± Dave said, laughing.

    Shut up, you fuckin'' jerk-off. That ain''t even funny!

    ¡°You better chill out or my company later might complain about you making a pig deal out of things!¡±

    Stop it.

    Dave eventually stepped away from the cage and Fry continued running around. The little mammal lived a life of blissful ignorance. His days were always consistent. When the room got dark, he''d close his eyes and take a nap. When the dark went away, he''d perk right up and start making a lot of noise for the entire floor to hear. French gave him a look full of scorn every time he did this. She always told Fry the days were never as interesting as he made them out to be. But the younger guinea pig paid no mind to her skewed opinion.

    After all, how could his days be boring when he had such exciting adventures to take part in? Daily activities such as running around his cage always got his blood pumping. He always proclaimed to French that he had ¡°magic feet¡±. How were they magic? Because if he ran fast enough, sometimes he''d propel enough force to fly over the top of his cage!

    ¡­

    Once his tiny feet hit the cold floor, the hyperactive mammal shot through the apartment like a bullet. His path was the same every time. First, he''d head straight into the living room and attempt to explore the hidden lair that was located under Dave''s couch. Note the word ¡°attempt¡±. After all, French and Fry ate better than most humans did, so squeezing into such a tight space was a difficult task for a chubby little guinea pig to do!

    Next, he''d explore the room with the Magical Gateway to Yummy Goodness, also referred to by Dave as the ¡°refrigerator¡±. Fry would often get up on his hind-legs and scratch the door, hoping it would open. Golly, if he were taller...he''d gain access to this magical dimension and take all the treats for himself! Unfortunately, it was often around this time that Dave would discover Fry was out of his cage and gently pick him up and put him back in. The furry hoodlum would give a look that always made his master''s ocean blue eyes sparkle, despite having to clean up the skinny urine trail his pet had left in his state of unbridled excitement.

    Despite the setbacks, the days always got better whenever Dave made an appearance. The moment he saw his master enter the room, Fry got incredibly excited and started begging for treats. The little fuzzball had more often than not assumed humans couldn''t understand the language of his species, but his master was special. If he was hungry, he got food. If the hay in his cage was getting too old and dirty, it would get changed the moment he opened his mouth. If he needed love and affection, he got it¡ªno questions asked. Dave always knew what Fry wanted.

    You''re tryin'' to make me kill myself, ain''t you?

    The only problem, however, was that Dave''s schedule wasn''t nearly as consistent as his furry friends'' were. Sometimes, Dave would be up at the crack of dawn to cook breakfast for himself before leaving to go to work. He was usually gone for about half the day, coming home just in time for all of the light outside the window to go away. Every couple of days, Dave would change things up by cooking, but never leaving the apartment. Not that this bothered Fry in the slightest; Dave was much better company than that crusty old maiden, French.

    Other times, though, Fry wouldn''t see Dave until nearly all the light was gone. It''s not like he ever missed him¡ªhow could he? He kept tabs on his master at all times! There''s no way he could just leave the apartment and Fry not know! He''d panic and ask French if she knew what was going on. She''d just sigh and tell him Dave lost his job again.

    Despite hearing this excuse many times during his short existence, Fry would always tilt his head in confusion. There was no way his master was capable of losing his job every other month, right? How easy was it to lose a job, anyway? Were they really slippery to grasp? Couldn''t Dave just put a leash around it so it wouldn''t get lost? Or maybe a tag, so somebody could call and tell him they found his job wandering around their front yard?

    French would just call Fry an ¡°imbecile¡±.

    Whatever that even meant.

    Regardless, Fry never liked the days where he''d barely see Dave around. Not only does the poor creature get lonely without his human friend, it also forces him to settle for his dry food. Dry food! The horror of it all!

    Dave eventually came out on these days, sure.

    But something would always seem...off about him.

    Oh, can it be? Is the plot thickenin'' here?

    For starters, he''d completely ignore both French and Fry whenever he''d walk into the room. No matter how many times Fry wheeked and gnawed on the metal bars of his cage, Dave never seemed to hear him. The rare instances that he did hear him, he''d lob an empty Pepsi can at the cage. Next, he''d stare outside his window for hours on end. He only left the window to take bathroom breaks, coming right back when he was finished.

    Sometimes, Dave picked up the phone and called somebody. Of course, it was always the same person. Before Fry was born, Dave had met a brunette woman named Rebecca. The guinea pig had met her a few times and even been fed by her a time or two. However, Fry could never bring himself to like her based on the things Dave said to her during these particular days.

    ...

    Dave would start things off by begging her to answer his call.

    He''d then start sobbing, asking her why she never wanted to talk to him anymore.

    Why did she never come over to visit him?

    What was more important in her life than him?

    Then he''d start telling her all about the thoughts racing in his head.

    How everybody was the same.

    How he was one in a million.

    Nobody understood him.

    He didn''t even understand himself, sometimes.

    At this point, his tone would grow angry.

    Dave was a failure.

    He knew it.

    Everybody knew it.

    Rebecca knew it and didn''t want to say anything.

    Why didn''t she just say it?

    He knew she was thinking it.

    Then he''d start screaming into the phone.

    It''s her fault his life has fallen apart.

    All she had to do was be honest with him and tell him how much of a failure he was.

    Because of her silence, he was going to have to take drastic measures and end his misery.

    Then he''d hang up the phone.

    And call her again.

    And again.

    And again...until she finally decided to call him back.

    Then Dave would be happy again until the next time he lost his job.

    ¡­

    Wow. Just...wow.

    But luckily for the young guinea pig, the scary days where Dave was overly distant were few and far between. Deep down, the mammal knew that his master didn''t mean any offense to the delay in his feeding time. He was just down in the dumps over his job going missing. If the day started off on the right foot¡ªwith lots of love and snacks¡ªFry knew he had nothing to fear.

    Which was why he thought nothing of it when Rebecca agreed to come visit Dave that day.

    I think I see where this is goin''...

    Once a knock was heard on the door, Dave''s face lit up. ¡°She''s here! She''s here!¡± he shouted as he rushed to greet his guest. Once the door opened, he was met with a young black haired woman. She wore a long brown skirt with a red tank top. A flower clip held her hair away from her face, allowing her rather apprehensive-looking eyes and half smile to be visible to the world.

    Fry''s master grabbed Rebecca and held her tightly. ¡°Hi, Dave,¡± she murmured as he pulled her into the apartment. Once the door closed behind the woman, Dave let go of her and immediately started squeezing the two bumps on her chest. This seemed like a strange way to express affection, thought the guinea pig. Couldn''t Dave just pet her and feed her some tasty veggies like he did for French and Fry? Judging by the look on Rebecca''s face, she was probably wondering the same thing.

    Dave didn''t seem to really notice, though.

    ¡°God, I''ve missed these puppies! Mmm...¡± he purred, bringing his face extra close to hers. Fry was confused. Those were puppies on her chest? Weren''t puppies supposed to be these creatures that were much bigger and louder than he was? If those were puppies, then what on Earth was that beast across the hall that barked every time Dave stepped out of the apartment?!Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Rebecca smiled very weakly, only responding in mumbles every time Dave asked her if she liked the way he touched her. He then asked if she wanted to go to the bedroom with him for a little while. Her eyes widened and she backed away. ¡°Um, I can''t. Aunt Flo is in town.¡± He laughed and kissed her lips. ¡°They say some good dick will cure those pesky cramps, you know. Why don''t you let me be your painkiller, baby?¡±

    Fry didn''t understand what they were talking about.

    What did Rebecca''s aunt being in town have to do with Dave''s bedroom?

    What was ¡°good dick¡± and how was Flo going to get it if she wasn''t even there?

    Was Dave going to pass it along to Rebecca so she could give it to Flo later?

    Why did Dave have to give it to her in the bedroom?

    Couldn''t he just give it to her in the living room?

    Humans didn''t make any sense sometimes.

    Shut up, you stupid rodent.

    She shook her head. ¡°No, thank you. Maybe later, you know?¡± His smile didn''t fade as he pulled his pants down to his knees, revealing some long appendage that had blue lines underneath the skin. ¡°Bet you can''t say no to this.¡± Her eyebrows narrowed. ¡°No, Dave.¡±

    ...

    Two words.

    That''s all it took.

    Just two little words.

    ¡­

    Dave shoved her against the wall. ¡°The fuck do you mean ¡°no¡±?! After all this time we''ve spent apart, the least you could do is have sex with me, Rebecca!¡± She swallowed hard, but didn''t back down. ¡°I-I''m sorry, Dave. Maybe next time when I''m not bleeding?¡± Dave screamed in her face. ¡°You always say that! ¡°Oh Dave, we''ll fuck soon!¡± ¡°Oh Dave, I promise we''ll do it next time!¡± When will you just shut up and fuck me like a good woman would?!¡±

    Fry''s heart stopped.

    What was going on?

    He was horrified by his master''s behavior!

    Where did the loving, gentle man from earlier go?!

    The younger guinea pig let out a series of anguished wheeks in the hopes of diffusing the situation.

    Sadly, they didn''t work.

    Rebecca began to shake. ¡°Look Dave, it wasn''t like I was planning on getting my period today or anything. I''m sorry, okay? It''s not the end of the world.¡± He started digging his fingernails into his left arm. ¡°It is for me, goddammit! All these guys are out there getting their rocks off while I''m fucking stuck here! In this shitty apartment, living only with two fucking guinea pigs! I deserve pleasure like those douchebags do, Rebecca!¡±

    The volume of Fry''s wheeks heightened greatly.

    French just smiled as she watched in silence.

    For fuck''s sake, just rub one out in the motherfuckin'' bathroom.

    ¡°Dave, please! Stop this!¡± Before she knew it, he stepped into the kitchen and returned with a large steak knife. ¡°I''m sick of those assholes always one-upping me! They have girlfriends that let them literally shit on them and you won''t even get on your knees and suck me off!¡± He placed the tip of the blade on top of his wrist. ¡°So I''m going to end it now. I''m sick of this unfair world where everyone is having more fun than me!¡±

    Tears streamed from Fry''s eye sockets.

    Why was this happening?!

    Jesus H. Christ, guy.

    Rebecca gritted her teeth. She''d heard all that she could tolerate. ¡°So that''s it? You''re just going to kill yourself all because I don''t feel like fucking you right now?¡± She stepped up to him and smacked him hard in the face. ¡°Fuck you and your fragile ego, Dave. Go and fucking kill yourself. See if I care!¡±

    ...

    One second.

    Pain was stinging the right side of Dave''s face.

    Five seconds.

    Dave was seeing red.

    Seven seconds.

    He''s shoving her against the wall again.

    Nine seconds.

    He''s raising the knife in the air.

    Ten seconds.

    She''s screaming for help.

    Eleven seconds.

    He''s stabbing her repeatedly in the chest.

    Fifteen seconds.

    Blood is painted all over Dave''s upper body.

    Twenty seconds.

    Rebecca falls onto the ground, dead.

    ¡­

    Fry was stunned, frozen in horror.

    French laughed.

    Wait a minute, guinea pigs can laugh?

    Dave didn''t hear her as he dropped to his knees. ¡°No...no...what did I do?¡± He dropped the knife onto the floor. ¡°I''m sorry, Rebecca. I''m sorry. I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to...oh god!¡± He started crying loudly at the sight before him, not realizing he was going to need his composure again in just a moment. Meanwhile, Fry slowly looked over at his cage-mate. French''s eyes shined with newborn life that may or may not have been stolen. From whom was a question Fry wasn''t willing to delve into.

    She effortlessly hopped over the cage.

    So much for lackin'' pep. Fuck your ¡°magic feet¡±, kid.

    She slowly approached Dave.

    During her walk, she began to grow in size.

    Oh what the fuck now?

    Her entire shape changed.

    Her body stood upward.

    Her front legs were now arms.

    Paws were hands.

    Her white fur was replaced by a human head of long white hair.

    You gotta be kiddin'' me...

    Fry couldn''t believe his eyes. The cage-mate he''d known since his infancy was no longer sporting a boring white coat. She now sported no coat, presenting herself completely in the nude in Dave''s living room. She was taller than Rebecca; maybe even taller than their master. Since when could French do that? Has she always been able to turn into a human? Why didn''t she ever tell him?!

    Why the hell not? Last hallucination had some kid turnin'' into a goddamn werewolf! Might as well have the opposite of that now, right?!

    French cleared her throat, which jolted Dave from his pit of sorrow.

    ...

    He fell back in surprise, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

    Who was this woman?

    Where did she come from?

    What would she think of the dead body lying in front of him?

    What about the blood coating his flesh and clothes?

    His exposed member just hanging freely during this chaos?

    Would she say anything at all?

    ¡­

    Yes.

    Yes, she would.

    ¡°That was a rather rash move, Dave.¡± The pet owner did not respond, as several different things were attacking his focus at that moment. He just killed the woman he loved in cold blood. There was a stranger in his house. And this stranger was naked. His concentration stood no chance. However, French couldn''t care less about Dave''s wandering eye.

    ¡°Aimless mortal,¡± she muttered, now walking around him. ¡°And you weren''t even clever with your killing. In this small apartment complex, there''s no doubt everybody heard your little lovers spat.¡± She stopped beside Rebecca''s corpse. ¡°Pitiful. The worst mistake she ever made was meeting you.¡±

    So...guy kills his girl and some naked chick shows up to belittle him. Lemme guess, he''s goin'' to Casa do Dia?o.

    Dave swallowed hard, still trying to process the scene before him. ¡°Who...are you?¡± he asked quietly. She looked back at him and smirked. ¡°A doting daughter.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°You heard me, mortal,¡± she responded rather harshly. She stepped in front of him, cupping the right side of his face in her hand. ¡°I''m not here to talk about myself. I''m here to inform you that it''s time you left this town.¡±

    Fuckin'' called it.

    ¡°And...go where? I don''t have much family living anymore.¡± Despite the darkness in her eyes, the white-haired woman gave him a reassuring smile. ¡°Your family is irrelevant. They are not worthy enough of stepping foot into Casa do Dia?o.¡± Dave made a noise signaling that he didn''t know what she was talking about.

    ...

    She sighed and decided to explain it to him.

    ¡°There are two types of people that exist in this world. There are those who are destined to do great things, whether they be wonderful or terrible. Morality is obsolete. All that matters is legacy. History worth repeating.¡± She pressed her fingertip up into his chin, lifting him to his feet effortlessly. ¡°Quite frankly, David Jostens, I do not think you are destined for greatness. But...it is not for me to decide who is and who isn''t.¡± She chuckles. ¡°So, with that being said, you will be going to the land in which only the great survive. You will live amongst those who are too rare for this weak society you''re born into¡ªthose who strive to change the world. Will it be you who is able to change the world, David Jostens? Who knows? Surely not I.¡±

    She removes her finger from his chin and holds her hand out.

    ¡°Either you rot in prison until you are old and useless, or you go and prove that you''re not the failure you swear yourself to be. The choice is yours.¡±

    ¡­

    So Casa do Dia?o is basically a battleground for overly ambitious assholes. They duke it out to see who''s the baddest motherfucker of them all and then they live easy for the rest of their lives in luxury?

    ¡­

    Why the ever lovin'' hell did you not just say so from the goddamn start?! Sign me the fuck up!

    ¡­

    Dave grabs the woman''s hand and shakes.

    ¡°Excellent. You might as well leave now before the police come knocking.¡±

    She looks over at a face that had been far too quiet since she ceased from being known as French.

    ¡°Take him with you.¡±

    Before Fry could properly react, she snapped her fingers and a bright light encircled the guinea pig.

    Oh no, what now?

    High-pitched wheeks escaped from the furry creature as pain coursed through every pore in his body.

    His anatomy changed without so much as a warning.

    Limbs grew larger.

    Limbs changed.

    Organs grew bigger.

    Soon his cage was destroyed.

    Feeble wheeks eventually became rough neighs.

    Before he knew it, his feet had become hooves, clopping against the hard floor.

    He was so tall that his horns were nearly piercing the ceiling.

    Dave watched in astonishment. ¡°Wow, Fry! Nice new look, buddy!¡± Fry said nothing, but pride made his heart flutter. Admittedly, this new look made him feel powerful. Granted, it would take him a while to get used to not having a cage. ¡°So, how am I going to get out of this apartment? My guinea pig is too big to fit through the door.¡±

    The woman smiled.

    ¡°His feet know the way.¡±

    And with that, she dissolved away in a white mist.

    Wasting no time, Dave pulled his pants up and approached the new and improved Fry.

    He climbed onto his back.

    Sure enough, Fry''s legs began to move without his consent.

    It was true; his feet did know the way!

    Before the duo knew it, they were crashing outside the window and headed toward their new home.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Okay, Casa do Dia?o seems to have a weird fetish for animal transformations. I guess I better prepare to become a fuckin'' bear or some shit.

    Otherwise, you made your case.

    So...how do I get there?

    What will lead the way?

 Chapter Ten: Desperado on the Run

    What will lead the way?

    ¡­

    I never said I was a patient man; not by any sense of the word. After all, I was born and raised in the most claustrophobic city in the United States. Growing up in a city housing over seven million people across all five boroughs tends to make you view human life in a different light than, say, how some bumpkin from the swamp may see it. To me, strangers ain''t new faces. They''re just meat vessels that are hogging the road I''m trying to travel on, delaying the time I''m trying to spend, and stealing the air I''m trying to breathe. Sure upstate New York is a lot nicer, but that don''t mean dick in my case. People are bastards and, after twenty years of putting up with their shit, I''ve mostly forgotten the meaning of the word ¡°patient¡±.

    It don''t help that I also came from a long line of angry Italians.

    So I guess if I''d been born a country boy instead, I''d still be an impatient asshole about everything.

    And after a week and a half of driving, hiding, and waiting, I was at my wit''s end.

    ...

    I imagine you''re wondering how I''ve been spending my time since I escaped Brooklyn.

    You''re thinking, ¡°Ah man, a life on the run! How excitin''!¡±

    No.

    You don''t understand, pal.

    Let me enlighten you on the painfully tedious new life I had to endure before I could finally reach my final destination.

    ¡­

    After the series of events on December 7<sup>th</sup>, I left Brooklyn with really only one plan; get the hell outta New York as soon as possible. The NYPD was no doubt combing the streets for my scummy ass, so I needed to go somewhere away from their jurisdiction. So I headed west, hopping on and off the interstate frequently as to avoid toll roads. This made the drive much longer than it could''ve been, but what choice did I have? I didn''t need the dickhead running the toll booth identifying me and sending the cops my way. Besides, this ensured my safe arrival into the state of New Jersey.

    Upon entering Jersey, I knew that I needed to get rid of Dad''s Trans-Am before too long. By then, the old bastard probably reported his car missing, pinpointing me as the thief. Keeping the ride would''ve also made me easier to find; Knight Rider ended three years ago, after all. Nobody owns a Pontiac anymore. People nowadays are all about their Fords and Hondas.

    So I pulled into a McDonald''s parking lot just outside of Jersey City around 4:30 in the afternoon. Business appeared to be booming, as the drive-thru was backed up all the way to the road. A couple of horns were honking, some cars tried to leave the line, and I thought I heard some lady swear at the driver behind her. But I didn''t care about any of that; I cared more about the group of guys hanging out around a ratty looking Ford Escort. These boys didn''t look like thugs¡ªnot with all three of them wearing brightly colored windbreakers with combed back hair and chiseled faces. They looked like your typical wannabe ¡°it men¡± that were secretly poorer than you.

    Meaning I could, more than likely, play their insecurities like a fiddle and win myself a new car.

    Well, probably not new.

    But certainly newer than Dad''s ol'' clunker.

    I grabbed the registration papers from the glove compartment and stuffed them in my back pocket. After grasping one of the straps of my backpack, I honked the horn to get the attention of my suckers. It took about three seconds for them to focus their attention on me. Upon exiting the Trans-Am, my ears picked up their reactions; they were exactly what I was hoping for.

    ¡°Dude!¡±

    ¡°Nice ride!¡±

    ¡°Gnarly wheels, my man!¡±

    With my backpack slumped over my shoulder, I approached my unsuspecting customers while tossing and catching the keys with my left hand. ¡°Like what you see, boys?¡± I asked with a casual tone as I stopped about five feet from their car. One dude with shit brown hair and pouty lips walked up to me and held a hand out like he wanted a high five. Rolling my eyes behind my aviator shades, my palm slapped his. ¡°Yo man, your ride is totally happenin''!¡± said the fecal mop twerp. ¡°Yeah,¡± started his slightly younger looking raven-haired friend, ¡°I bet you get all sorts of bodacious babes with this baby!¡±

    Christ, they even talked like wannabe ¡°it men¡±.

    I flashed the crew a fake, but fairly convincing grin. ¡°Boys, I''m drownin'' in pussy. Chicks dig the body and stay for the horsepower¡ªknow what I''m sayin''?¡± The Three Stooges let out this strange whooping sound that could be best described as one giant burst of excitement, wonder, and testosterone. This racket was followed up by them all slapping each others hands a couple of times, each guy alternating between another guy. If we were placing bets here, I''d put up fifty that these chumps ain''t ever been laid a day in their pointless, vapid lives. ¡°Man!¡± said the third, older black-haired dude, ¡°I wish my ride was that cool!¡±

    Aha, here we go.

    Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to explain to you a thing or two about human nature. Humans¡ªwe''re all a bunch of needy pussies, you know? I mean think about it; we ain''t ever satisfied with what we got. We always gotta have more, more, more. Whether you wanna admit it or not, most people are sickeningly materialistic. All these pot-smoking hippies still stuck in the 60''s can cry over free love all they want, but in the end people will always care more about cars and money than they do another human being.

    Look at these chumps, for instance. They all three dressed the same, wore their hair the same way, and all spoke the same fucking way. These guys ain''t got identities outside of this delusional daydream they have of them being ¡°cool¡±; I refer to people like this as ¡°parasitic hand puppets¡±. Parasitic hand puppets cling on to whatever small thing they can get that makes them seem significant. Whether it be the latest fashion trend or one measly joint, they will snap at it like hungry sharks. I come along in a Trans-Am and suddenly they''re uncontrollably jizzing all inside their jeans.

    I smirked, happy that they opened things up for me. ¡°That yours?¡± I asked, nodding my head towards the Ford Escort. He scowled and nodded, not even peeking at the car. ¡°I was supposed to be getting a brand new, 1990 model Corvette. But the Man kept me from getting it, so I''m stuck with this piece of shit.¡±

    ¡°The Man¡±, huh?

    That''s a funny name for your old man''s credit score.

    ¡°Tough break, kid.¡± I said, stepping closer to the car to inspect it. It didn''t look like too old of a car; maybe an ''83 or ''84 model. Youth aside though, this Ford certainly looked like it had seen better days. Judging by the chipped blue paint plus the number of dents and scratches on both the driver-side and passenger-side doors, I could tell this guy wasn''t the most conscientious owner. Then again, neither was I. So maybe this was a good, yet only temporary match made in heaven.

    ¡°It run any good?¡± I asked, looking back at him. He shrugged. ¡°I guess, yeah. Sometimes the steering is a little rough, but other than that it''s good.¡± I gave him rather toothy grin, eyes widening to manic proportions behind my shades. Time for the kill.

    ¡°You wanna trade? Take the Trans-Am and give me the Escort?¡±

    All three of their jaws dropped simultaneously.

    ¡°You serious, man?!¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°What can I say? I''m a little saddle-sore.¡±

    They nearly screamed in excitement.

    ...

    No questions about catches.

    Nothing about functionality.

    Nessuna on what kind of transmission it had.

    My idiot customer was far too busy digging into his glove compartment for his screwdriver.

    Not that I was complaining.

    Keys were traded.

    Handshakes were given.

    License plates were switched.

    This part didn''t bother me none; the cops had no way of knowing Dad''s license plate was on a new car.

    Not unless they tracked these bozos down all the way here.

    But even if these guys sold me out, I''d be long gone and in another car before the cops could even catch up.

    Until then, let the parasitic hand puppets enjoy their Trans-Am while my happy ass headed south.

    ¡­.

    Despite being outta the fire, I still hadn''t the slightest idea of where I was going. I tried contacting Zombie Bastard again to see if he was ready to give me something on Casa do Dia?o. Sadly, I was only met with a vague ¡°Be patient, mortal.¡± Uh, why the fuck should I be patient now? This was the same asshole who pestered me constantly over this bullshit. Now he didn''t want to give me details? Fucking jerk-off!

    Thoroughly irritated, that left me all alone as I drove without a clear destination, stopping only to piss on the side of the road.

    I wanted to avoid gas stations as much as humanly possible.

    I don''t think I need to explain to you why.

    Finally deciding I was sick of driving, I stopped in Atlantic City for the night. I managed to find myself a shitty two-star motel off to the side of the road. After flashing the middle-aged receptionist a crisp twenty, she tossed me my room key and muttered something along the lines of ¡°One night only, buster¡±. I gave her a sleazy wink, free of charge; one night was all I needed. Upon entering my room, the sheets looked like they hadn''t been cleaned since the last guest had been there. The air smelled of mildew and the smokey remnants of some cheap tornado. It was the type of place some married businessman would bring his busty, unmarried secretary to after a long day at the office. Still, when you ain''t got much guap to work with, you make do with some suit''s sloppy seconds.

    ...

    Thus, December 7<sup>th</sup> ended on a quiet note.

    And December 8<sup>th</sup> began on a very loud one.

    ¡­

    I didn''t sleep worth a shit, waking up around 4:15 in the goddamn morning. I blamed this on the crick in my neck from the pillow that might as well been a slab of marble. Upon getting up, the immediate thought hit me that I needed to ditch the Ford Escort and get outta Jersey now that it was dark outside. That''s right; ain''t no rest for the wicked.

    After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, I grabbed my backpack and headed outside. In terms of getting rid of the car, I didn''t have much of a plan. Would could I do? I certainly couldn''t trade vehicles again; not at this time of day. Taking a bus was completely outta the question. I had not the cheddar or the peace of mind to sit for hours on end with a bunch of people who may or may not recognize my face.

    So that left me with two possible options: hot-wire a complete stranger''s ride, or jack somebody''s car keys either through brute force or stealth. When sitting on the fence of a difficult decision, it''s always wise for one to measure the pros and cons of each choice. In this case, stealing somebody''s keys would be a lot simpler and require less tools. However, there was the possibility I''d get busted by some cocksucker in blue.

    With hot-wiring, it would be a little less risky...though only a little less. Plus it could take a while depending on which method I used. Sure, the ol'' ¡°drill and screw¡± maneuver was probably the fastest means of hot-wiring a car. However, I doubted the ¡°it man¡± carried an extra screwdriver with him, let alone a power drill.

    ¡°Can''t sleep, boy? Or did your date show you up?¡±

    I turned around to catch a glimpse of the receptionist from last night smoking a cigarette outside the main entrance.

    She was looking at me.

    Talking to me.

    Talking at me.

    ¡­

    I guess it''s been decided, then.

    This lady just sealed her own fate.

    I approached the woman, forming a smile to mask my evil intentions. ¡°You ain''t clocked out yet, lady?¡± I asked, stopping in front of her. She took a drag on her cigarette and blew it up towards the sky. The bags under her eyes told me enough of her story for me to realize my question was stupid. Of course, there ain''t no such thing as stupid questions when you''re up to no good.

    ¡°Welcome to the life of the graveyard shift, boy. Where the only men I meet are creepy bastards like you who prowl around parking lots in the dead of the night.¡± I chuckled, still smiling at her. ¡°Forgive me if these cars all look more comfortable than those pillows made of rock do.¡± To that she gave a hearty cackle. ¡°Honey, the end of a sword looks more comfortable than anything this motel has to offer.¡±

    At least she admits it.

    ¡°You live here, lady? You even got a car?¡± She snorted and pointed at the far end of the parking lot. ¡°That beauty right there is mine. The ''78 Chevy Impala.¡± I looked over and spotted her alright. Bright sun-kissed orange, stood out like a sore thumb. I whistled. ¡°Quite the colors for such a drab motel,¡± I said as my hand reached under my shirt.

    ¡°You can say that¡ª¡±

    From outta my pants, I pulled Myra out and pointed her straight at the receptionist.

    ¡°Think those colors belong somewhere more fittin'', myself.¡±

    Her old eyes widened and she dropped her cancer stick.

    ¡°Son, you wouldn''t.¡±

    I pulled the hammer back.

    ¡°I would, baby.¡±

    The look of horror on her face did some fascinating things to my body. Just like the day I killed Jacob Summers, my adrenaline was pumping hard. The anticipation of tasting this woman''s blood made me shake. I still recalled my reaction to tasting Jacob''s blood, and how excited I got. Would her old blood taste the same? Or would it be more bitter tasting? Perhaps more sweet, since it''s coming from a woman?

    ...

    I didn''t even allow her to run before I pulled the trigger.

    The shot went right through her forehead, her essence splattering on my face.

    A wicked smile formed as I watched the life escape from her eyes.

    She collapsed against the building.

    I quickly snatched the ring of keys attached to her belt and bolted for the Impala.

    Luckily for me, I was able to find the right key and make my grand escape outta the motel parking lot before any cops could respond to the gunshot.

    ¡­

    As I drove away from the scene of the crime, I pulled the sun visor down so I could see myself in the mirror. I wasn''t wearing my shades, so I could see just how big my pupils were at that moment. My index finger gently wiped some of the blood off my cheek and brought it to my lips. My tongue lapped up the fluid and, sure enough, I was in pure ecstasy. I was thankful that nobody else was in the car with me, otherwise they''d be forced to listen to my rather loud and overtly sexual sounding moans stemming from the experience.

    I had become God again, though had I ever stopped being God?

    No.

    Never.

    I''ve always been all-powerful, motherfucker.

    Lord Death struck again.

    All hail the king.

    I brought the finger back up and scooped up some more life essence.

    After licking my finger again, I was quickly losing my focus on the road.

    Body shaking hard from the spiritual experience, my right hand rubbed the uncomfortable stiffness in my jeans as I drove aimlessly on the highway.

    ...

    By the time my high had worn off, I felt like giving myself an extra hard kick in the ass. Why, you ask? Because, in the midst of my euphoria, I had made a wrong turn somewhere and was now headed toward Philadelphia. You heard that right; goddamn Philly. Fucking Pennsylvania. I was going back up north. I didn''t want to go north, dammit! I wanted to avoid north! So I lit up a cigarette and turned away, heading southwest. This new route took me into Delaware for a little while until setting me on the path for Baltimore, Maryland.

    This, ladies and gentlemen, marked the moment of my journey where all forms of excitement turned into tedium.

    As soon as I made it into Baltimore, I realized that I was fed up with the road for the day. Using some cash that the receptionist had stowed away into her console, I was able to afford a hotel stay within the city. This time, I chose a pretty nice place to rest. The room was clean, it had a balcony overlooking the city, and the staff provided complimentary room service. I liked the hotel, and decided that I was gonna stick around for a few days; at least until Zombie Bastard decided to come around and tell me what the deal behind Casa do Dia?o was.

    Unfortunately, this period of relaxation wasn''t all bubble baths and free TV. All might''ve been calm on the outside, but not inside my head. Every time a special news bulletin came on TV, my heart nearly burst outta my chest. Every time somebody knocked on my door, Myra was pulled out and cocked. Every time a police siren passed the hotel, I was locking myself in the bathroom.

    Any moment, I felt the jig could be up.

    All my hard work¡ªdown the drain.

    All my running¡ªa waste of time.

    My future¡ªdecimated.

    What was taking Zombie Bastard so long?! He seemed so eager to have me hop aboard this crazy train of his. Was I truly the first person to ever bluntly tell this prick ¡°no¡±? Was this his revenge; making me wait? Because that''s what it certainly felt like; and boy did he make me wait. Until finally, on December 11<sup>th</sup>, he surprised me by giving me a dizzy spell while I was outside on the balcony. I hobbled back into the room and let myself pass out on the bed. And he gave me my answer...four motherfucking days after I originally asked him.

    I also learned that Casa do Dia?o had a thing for animals.

    I mean, think about it.

    Jerrika Blue turned into a werewolf.

    And Dave''s retarded rodent turned into a giant, demon horse of some kind.

    What was gonna happen to me?

    Was I gonna become the fucking Loch Ness Monster or something?

    What was it gonna be?

    What will lead the way?

    After watching the shit show that was Dave''s invitation into Casa do Dia?o, I woke up in my hotel room and immediately tried to contact Zombie Bastard. I thought as loudly as I could. When that didn''t work, I started talking aloud to him. ¡°Answer me, you prick!¡± I ended up shouting, hoping nobody in the hall could hear me. ¡°Hello? Hello?! Tawlk to me, dammit!¡± Still nothing. What the hell was going on? I had changed my mind. I told him that I was accepting his offer. What more did he want? This was the part of the negotiation where he was supposed to bless me with some kinda powers that will ultimately ¡°lead the way¡± to Casa do Dia?o. So, where were they?!

    With one last feeble attempt, I relaxed myself on the mattress.

    My eyes closed.

    ¡­

    And I thankfully saw somebody.

    But it wasn''t Zombie Bastard.

    It was a face that I saw often, though this particular face was one I''d only seen once before.

    And he was looking as handsome as ever.

    ¡°Yo, about fuckin'' time you came ''round.¡±

    I was surprised when I heard my...his voice; the last time we''d spoken, he really only mouthed out his words to me. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I started, walking up to him in my mind, clapping my hand with his, ¡°you guys got me sold, alright.¡± Genghis Two grinned, giving me a seductive wink as he readjusted his gangster fedora. God, I''m such an attractive man. ¡°Eh, I ain''t too annoyed. I know how stubborn I can be,¡± he said.

    I ain''t stubborn.

    Thank you very much.

    ¡°So...¡± I started, gesturing at his outfit, ¡°is this what will lead the way into Casa do Dia?o for me? My fashion sense?¡± He cocked an eyebrow at me. ¡°Ain''t gonna be that simple, kid.¡± I held my hands up. ¡°So what will, huh? What will get me the fuck outta dodge?¡± He shook his head. ¡°I can''t tell you that. It''s somethin'' you gotta figure out on your own.¡±

    Now I was stomping my foot on the metaphorical ground. ¡°Motherfucker, Jerrika Blue and David Jostens had their fuckin'' hands held in this process! Why can''t you throw me a goddamn bone here?!¡± He gave me a smug grin. ¡°They didn''t have anythin'' particularly significant to bring with them. Jerrika only had her old man, who she brutally murdered. Dave? He was a fuckin'' schmuck. The only friend he had became his horse. You, Genghis Dillinger Boy, do have somethin'' you still need before you can go.¡±

    I bit my lip, grilling him hardcore. ¡°And what, pray tell, is that?¡± He poked the side of his head with his index finger. ¡°Think, Genghis. Think. What is somethin'' that''s always been crucial to your happiness?¡± I glared at him. ¡°Whatever it is, I can do without it if it means I get the new life I''ve been promised.¡± Now he was grilling me. ¡°That ain''t gonna be possible and you know it.¡±

    He began stepping away from me, though he left me with one last note.

    ...

    ¡°Give it another week. She doan know yet.¡±

    ...

    She...what?

    I tried to ask him what he meant, but he was gone before I could get the words out.

    And thus I opened my eyes feeling even more frustrated than I''d felt before.

    I was confused.

    Baffled.

    Pissed beyond all possible comprehension.

    After getting dressed and packing my backpack, I stormed outta my hotel room and back out into the parking lot. I managed to get out there in time for some dude to be entering his brand new Mustang. The car was the same color that I was seeing after my conversation with Genghis Two. I couldn''t take my anger out on myself obviously, so this bozo was gonna face my wrath instead. I whipped out Myra and pointed her at the sonuvabitch.

    ¡°Outta the car! Now!¡± The guy tried to quickly close his door and crank the car up, but I was too fast for him. I slapped the hood of his car hard, pulling the hammer down on the gun. ¡°You have until the count of three, motherfucker!¡± Once I got to two, he was getting out of the car. ¡°O-O-Okay sir, you can have it, just please don¡ª¡± I pistol whipped him in the head, knocking him out cold onto the ground.

    I looked inside and saw his keys were still in the ignition.

    And with that, I was on my way outta Baltimore.

    ¡­

    </a>  I headed south at first, but then made the last minute decision to go east, back into Delaware. Why did I do this? Fuck if I knew; my mind was one giant clusterfuck at that moment in time. I was at a point where I didn''t know if whether or not this was what my life was gonna be for now on. Running from the law, driving all over the place in hopes of finding a place to stay safe. Was there even a Casa do Dia?o for me to retreat to? Or was all of this yet another sick prank my own insanity has pulled on me?

    I needed time to recuperate from this blow, so I stopped in Dover. Neglecting sleep and rejecting food, I obsessed over the words that came from my future self. ¡°What is somethin'' that''s always been crucial to your happiness?¡± Why did my happiness matter now? The day I killed Jacob Summers, Zombie Bastard made it out like he was ready to take me to Casa do Dia?o right then and there.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Jerrika got to go.

    Dave got to go.

    Why couldn''t I?

    If they wanted me to be happy, all they needed to do was fucking help me out here!

    ¡­

    On December 13<sup>th</sup>, the hotel room I''d been cooped up into had grown too cramped for me¡ªmade me too fucking claustrophobic. So I went outside that afternoon and spotted a pretty blonde heading into the hotel with what appeared to be her boyfriend or husband. I snuck up behind her and yoinked her car keys from her back pocket and then, just for shits and giggles, slapped her ass in a spot would easily get her man in trouble. Of course, it worked like a charm and she snuffed him right in the jaw. Once the lovely couple was too distracted by arguing, I found their silver ''88 model Honda Accord and hit the road.

    It wasn''t until I was about halfway to Washington D.C. that a thought had occurred to me. Well, okay, this thought had occurred to me several times during my time in Dover. But, quite frankly, I was still too infuriated by the situation to give the thought much...well, thought. Genghis Two had said something really cryptic to me before he left. ¡°Give it another week. She doan know yet.¡±

    Perhaps he meant the answer would come to me within a week?

    Maybe this was the right explanation?

    I wanted this to be the right explanation.

    I needed this to be the right explanation.

    And so, I stayed in Washington D.C. for four long days.

    The first day was mostly tiring. Upon my arrival to the hotel, all I did was set my bag down, take a shower, and lay down in bed for the rest of the night, trying desperately to sleep. Naturally, this failed horribly. But I didn''t care; I just wanted to skip the dull waiting process and get to Casa do Dia?o already. If I could, I would''ve slept the entire duration of my time in D.C. Be dead to the world for an entire ninety-six hours.

    Never mind the people dying.

    Never mind the crooks being shot.

    Never mind the happiness and laughter of the children playing basketball on the court.

    Their happiness didn''t matter to me because my own happiness apparently didn''t matter to anybody but Zombie Bastard and Genghis Two.

    But alas, my mind was too hyper for sleep to even occur.

    So I stayed awake all night, staring at the ceiling.

    On the second day, I forced myself to eat breakfast. The last real meal I''d eaten had been in Baltimore and my hunger had grown so outta control that I felt like I was gonna puke up stomach acid if I didn''t get something in my system soon. So I treated myself to the complimentary breakfast provided by the hotel staff. French toast with a glass of orange juice; not a bad start.

    Upon returning to my room, I popped in one of the VHS tapes I smuggled outta Brooklyn. The VCR read the tape and Terminator came on. Things were fine and dandy; I''d seen the movie hundreds of times already and had always thoroughly enjoyed it. However, the mood did admittedly change once the sex scene between Sarah Conner and Kyle Reese came on. No, it wasn''t that kind of mood change, either.

    Other than the incredibly toxic relationship between Dave and Rebecca, this had been the first instance of romance that I''d been exposed to since I left New York. I''d been so busy worrying about what was gonna happen to me that I didn''t ever take the time to think about things like this. But now that I was required to sit and wait, I had more time to process thoughts that didn''t pertain to cops executing me in the streets. And right at that moment, only one thing was on my mind.

    That thing, ladies and gentlemen, was how much I missed Heidi. I wondered how she was doing. Was she considering Paul''s sorry excuse of a marriage proposal now that I was outta the picture? What did she think of me now that she knew what I''d done? Did she even miss me? Because I sure missed her. So much, in fact, that the rest of the movie was rendered uninteresting to me as soon as she crossed my mind.

    So much that the rest of the day just drug on as I stared at the ceiling for hours, thinking only of the girl I left behind.

    Heidi''s face continued to haunt me all throughout my third day in D.C. I spent the day laying in bed while I listened to some of my CDs from back home. I made it to my Led Zeppelin album before my lovely girl returned to her place inside my head. Plus, Robert Plant singing ¡°Babe, I''m Gonna Leave You¡± didn''t help matters all that much, either.

    At one point, I tried looking at my Hustler magazine as a temporary distraction from my thoughts. This worked only for a little while with my thoughts immediately returning to Heidi as soon as my orgasm was reached. Seriously, what was the point of porn if it didn''t serve the purpose of keeping your mind off shit? Just to provide something pretty to look at for a few minutes? I felt cheated, man. Cheated!

    It wasn''t until the fourth day that I finally cracked. I did the absolute unthinkable. That''s right. Around the time the sky was just beginning to turn black, I walked outside the hotel and found myself a payphone. My stupid ass paid fifty cents to make a long distance call back home. Before you tell me, yeah. I knew that this was a bad idea. I knew that I''d be setting myself up to be yelled at by my folks. I knew I was risking the cops finding my location through wiretaps. I knew all of this. But I didn''t care; I just wanted to hear Heidi''s voice one last time.

    ¡­

    After about four rings, I expected it to go to the answering machine. I had even prepared myself for that, thinking of all the things I wanted to say. I''d drop them a couple ¡°I''m sawrry¡±s, tell them I''m doing okay even though I ain''t really, and drop one indirect ¡°I love you¡± for Heidi. If they did answer, I was prepared to tell Roy that I was sorry and that, despite everything, I always considered him the better father figure between him and Dad. If Heidi answered, I''d first ask if she was alone. If she wasn''t, then I''d keep the conversation casual, maybe throw in a couple of compliments in the midst of my apologies. If she was alone? I''d tell her everything that was on my mind. I''d tell her how much I missed her and how sorry I was that I''d never see her again.

    However, my old man picked the phone up and I quickly realized that I didn''t prepare to actually talk to him.

    ¡°Yo.¡±

    I took a quick breath, preparing for the swollen eardrums.

    ¡°Yo, Pops.¡±

    Three, two¡­

    ¡°Genghis, is dat yuh? What de fuck yuh doin''?! Where''s my mudderfuckin'' car, huh? Where is my car?! Where are yuh? De cops have been here lookin'' fawh yuh fawh days now! Dey''re sayin'' yuh did a lot of fuck-awful shit, boy. Okay?! You''re in serious shit, son. What de fuck were yuh tinkin''?!¡± Yerp, that''s about what I expected. ¡°I can''t tell you that, alright? It''s a long¡ª¡±

    ¡°Long stawhy? Long stawhy my ass! Yuh fucked up and killed yet anudder guy and took my fuckin'' car tryin'' tuh escape de NYPD! Dere, was dat your goddamn "long stawhy"?!¡± There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. My dad just summarized the entirety of my problem for you guys in just one sentence. No need to hear anymore from me, right? ¡°There''s more to it than tha¡ª¡±

    ¡°Bullshit! Roy is wawhried sick aboutcha! Heidi ain''t stopped cryin'' since de day yuh left! Yuh proud of yawhself, tough guy? Makin'' your family fall apart like dis?!¡± Maybe they care, Dad. But you''re the one who started this conversation out by asking about the car before you even thought about asking about me. ¡°I ain''t got time for this. Is Heidi around?¡± ¡°Doan yuh be dodgin'' me, boy! Yuh got a lot tuh answuh fawh and you''re gonna fuckin'' answuh fawh it! Okay?!¡±

    I gritted my teeth, growling into the phone.

    ¡°Give the phone to Heidi, you fat, alcoholic loser.¡±

    I heard about five seconds worth of incoherent swearing before he finally spoke actual English again.

    ¡°De fuck d''ja just¡ª¡±

    Suddenly, what sounded vaguely like Heidi''s voice came on. It sounded like she was telling him to calm down and let her answer the call in her room. It took some convincing, but eventually he agreed it was for the best. After a moment, the voice that started speaking to me brought a small smile to my face.

    ¡°Genghis? Is that really you?¡±

    As sissy as it may sound, her voice made my heart skip a beat.

    It had been too long.

    Far too long.

    ¡°Yeah, it''s me.¡± Almost immediately, she broke down into tears over the phone. ¡°Oh my God¡ªhallelujah you''re alive!¡± She began sobbing very loudly. ¡°I-I didn''t know if you''d be takin'' care of yourself or not! Had me really wawrried!¡±

    Well, other than going a couple of days without eating¡­

    ¡°I''m fine, Heidi. But how are you?¡± ¡°N-N-Not so good, Genghis! My tough guy ain''t here when I¡ªwhen I...¡± She broke down for a good minute or two. My smile faded. I hated it when she cried. It always made me feel like a real sonuvabitch. Once she stopped, she spoke up again.

    ¡°I-I-I read your message, you know? The one you left me?¡± Oh yeah, reality was kicking me right in the crotch now. ¡°Yeah, I remember, Heidi.¡± She sniffed. ¡°Did...did you really mean that? That you were going away forever? That we''d never see each other again?¡±

    Hear that, ladies and gentlemen?

    That was the sound of my heart being ripped from my chest.

    ¡°I ain''t gotta choice, Heidi. I ain''t welcome in Brooklyn anymore.¡± She sniffled again on the other end. ¡°I-It don''t have to be like that, babyboy. Y-You can just turn yourself in, you know? Turn yourself in! The cops may give you some kind of plea bargain for confessin''!¡± I bit my bottom lip, trying to hold back my own emotional volcano about to erupt. ¡°I can''t do that, Heidi.¡± ¡°Why not, Genghis? Why not?! You took a person''s life! Again! You know you need to face some kind of punishment for that, right?!¡±

    Annnnd holding back the eruption failed majorly.

    ¡°Genghis...are you cryin''?¡± Choking on my sobs, I soon found myself sitting down in the phone booth with the phone nestled into my neck. ¡°I-I know I did that, Heidi! Alright?! I''m sawrry! I''m so sawrry! I fuckin'' know that I screwed up again! That''s all I ever do, right? Fuck around, hurt people, and bullshit my way outta trouble. I''m a scumbag, okay? Is that what you wanna hear me say?! I''m a goddamn scumbag!¡± My sobs quickly morphed into embarrassingly loud wails.

    I just want to go on the record, ladies and gentlemen, and state that I don''t do this often. In fact, I never do this. Crying like an angry toddler is just something I don''t do. This one instance is one that will more than likely never repeat itself again. And even then, this time could easily be attributed to the severe lack of sleep and faulty dieting habits I''d been exhibiting for a couple of days now. Genghis Boy ain''t some bitch, alright?

    ¡°I never deserved a girl like you. I''m too sick, Heidi. I''m a sick man! Just...just forget about me, okay?! Let me rot in the bowels of the world while Paul makes you the happiest woman in all of New York.¡± There was silence for a moment on the other end, but I didn''t rush her to respond. I wanted to get all of my pathetic crying outta my system before I even attempted to utter another word. As soon as my crying finally calmed down a little, Heidi spoke up again.

    ¡°Paul can''t make me happy, Genghis. And maybe he never could, in all honesty.¡± I sniffled, wiping my messy face on my jacket sleeve. ¡°I seriously doubt that, Heidi.¡± She made a noise that sounded either like a sigh or a deep breath. ¡°D''ere''s...somethin'' you oughta know, Genghis. Where are you?¡± Now it was my turn to take a deep breath, though only to avoid another breakdown over the phone. ¡°I can''t tell you that, Heidi. I know that apartment is probably wiretapped.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she immediately responded, ¡°I promise it ain''t. The police suggested they tap the lines just in case you called. But...after a week of no word from you, they decided that you probably cut us outta your life and that d''ere was no point in tapping the lines.¡± She let out one more sob. ¡°I''m so, so glad that you didn''t!¡±

    But I did, though.

    Or at least I thought I did.

    ¡°Just tell me over the phone, Heidi. What''s goin'' on?¡± She refused to say anything. ¡°I gotta tell you in person, Genghis. It''s impawtant.¡± I bit my lip again. As much as I wanted to see Heidi again, I knew that one of two things would happen as a result. One being that she brings Roy and Dad with her in the attempt to ¡°set me straight¡±. Two being that she brings the fucking cops with her.

    ¡°Heidi, how do I know that some donut-eater ain''t sittin'' next to you right now? How do I know that you ain''t tryin'' to set me up?¡± She growled slightly into the phone. Considering that I was pissing her off rather than triggering more tears, this at least told me that she was being sincere with her request. ¡°Forget about the cops for one second! This is somethin'' extremely impawtant that I can''t say over the phone because Packie might hear!¡±

    So even though she just admitted that Paul can''t make her happy, she still didn''t want our folks to know about our relationship.

    Story of my life.

    I sighed, surrendering to her.

    ¡°D.C.¡± She was quiet for a moment. ¡°Say what?¡± ¡°You heard me, Heidi.¡± Heidi let out a few swears before talking again. ¡°D.C.? As in Washington D.C.? The fuck you doin'' there, Genghis?!¡± What an excellent question. Too bad I didn''t know the answer, either. ¡°I ain''t stayin'' much longer, though. As soon as I hang up this phone, I''m hittin'' the road.¡± ¡°And...goin'' where? Where are you goin''?¡± I shrugged. ¡°I dunno. Maybe south?¡±

    ...

    I shouldn''t of said that.

    Why, you ask?

    Because this opened a whole new door for Heidi.

    ¡°Ain''t Virginia near D.C.?¡±

    ¡°I think so. Dunno if that''s where I''ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°I''ll see you there tomorrow.¡±

    My eyes widened.

    The connection on this call must''ve been shittier than I thought.

    It almost sounded like she said¡ª

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You heard me, Genghis. Let''s meet up in Norfolk. I hear that''s near the Atlantic Ocean.¡±

    I shook my head profusely.

    ¡°Heidi, what are you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Meet me at the bus station. If I leave in the next hour or two, I assume I''ll be there in the mornin''.¡±

    ¡°Heidi, no!¡±

    ¡°I''m headed that way as soon as I hang up. Don''t keep me waitin'', okay?¡±

    And with that, she ended the call.

    ...

    I angrily hung the phone up. ¡°Fuckin'' stupid woman!¡± I shouted to nobody in particular. What did Heidi just do? What was so important that she couldn''t tell me over the goddamn phone? What was she thinking?!

    Whatever she was planning, I only knew one thing for sure now.

    Norfolk, Virginia was my next stop.

    Growling loudly, I exited the phone booth and went back to my hotel room. I packed my backpack and returned to the parking lot. The thought of scouting out another set of car keys to steal passed through my head, but I decided against it. If I was meeting up with Heidi, then I didn''t need the D.C. police on my ass. So, crossing my fingers, I popped the trunk on the Honda Accord to see if that girl''s boyfriend had a toolbox. Thankfully, he did. After pulling out the power drill and a flat-top screwdriver, I grinned wickedly and began the hunt for my next ride.

    I spent a mere two minutes searching around for a target. I was careful to choose an old looking car as to avoid having the alarm go off whenever I smashed through the window. Once an old early 70''s model Chevelle crossed my line of sight, I knew I''d found my target. As I approached the car, I took a deep breath.

    After counting to three, I took a few steps back.

    Here goes nothing.

    I kicked the window as hard as I could, shattering the glass all into the driver''s seat.

    When no alarm went off, I sighed with relief.

    I opened the door and brushed the broken glass outside the car. As I entered the blue Chevelle, I looked around for the keyhole. Upon seeing it, I stuck the tip of the drill into it and held the trigger. All the time in movies, you see these chumps going the extra mile to hot-wire cars. Fucking with wires, getting up under the car¡ªwhy? You don''t need to do any of that shit! Remember that ¡°drill and screw¡± maneuver I mentioned earlier? Allow Professor Genghis to teach you up-and-coming criminals a much simpler trick to hot-wiring a car.

    First, get a flat head screw driver and a power drill. Next, find a way inside the car. Once you''re in, stick the power drill''s tip into the keyhole. Drill a little ways into there, but not too far, alright? You''re just trying to break the lock pins, not fuck up the ignition altogether. Give it about half of the drill''s spike and that should be enough. Remove the drill from the keyhole and do it again.

    And again.

    In, out.

    In, out.

    Kinda like having sex.

    Once those pesky lock pins are broken, stick the screwdriver into the keyhole.

    Turn and voila!

    You''re a successful carjacker now!

    Here''s your gold medal, sport.

    Oh, and as I explained that to you, I was doing it as well.

    So yeah.

    Guess it''s No Sleep Till Norfolk for me, right?

    ¡­

    The drive to Virginia was long and irritating, much like this entire experience on the run had been for me thus far. My mind was in a cataclysmic fury. Why was this happening? Why was I doing this? Wasn''t I supposed to be waiting for something to happen? I mean, this was something happening, but this seemed like a step backward rather than forward. Don''t get me wrong, I love Heidi to death. But I seriously doubted she had anything to offer regarding my passage into Casa do Dia?o. If anything, all she''d do was beg me to come back to New York and turn myself in.

    That wasn''t gonna happen to me.

    Fuck that.

    Not after all I''ve done to ensure my safety from the law.

    I''m sorry Heidi, but you''re gonna be going home empty-handed later.

    I finally arrived in Norfolk sometime past midnight. I managed to find the bus station in town, or at least the main one. Surely this was the one Heidi was gonna arrive at, right? I hoped this was the right place, because I decided I wasn''t gonna move until Heidi got there. So I eased my seat back, closed my eyes, and got some much needed sleep.

    The blaring sun woke me up. Shielding my eyes from the bright Southern sun, I looked around the parking lot to see a large group of people huddled around a Greyhound bus. My mind mulled over Heidi''s words from last night. She said she was gonna leave that night, and that she probably wouldn''t be in Norfolk until the morning. I cranked up the Chevelle long enough to see the time on the clock.

    11:43 A.M.

    This had to have been her bus.

    I killed the engine and exited the car, jogging over to the crowd. It was hard to see any familiar faces, as most of the people collecting their bags were so fat that the width of their bodies blocked out the other passengers. I stood there, impatiently waiting for the lard asses to fucking move. One guy even broke a sweat while bending down to pick up his wife''s bag. She at one point asked him to pick up her floral-print purse as well, but this just created an argument.

    ¡°Dear, imma man. I ain''t pickin'' up no sissified purse and have the boys call me a got-damn queer!¡±

    ¡°Ain''t nuthin'' queer about carryin'' your wife''s bag, Ken!¡±

    ¡°Shut up woman, you don''t know any better!¡±

    For fuck''s sake.

    I stomped over to the couple and picked the lady''s flower bag up. ¡°Where''s your car, ma''am?¡± She gave me this really creepy smile, flashing me her set of rotting teeth. ¡°Oooh, lookie here, Ken! This fine young man ain''t afraid of carryin'' my bag!¡± He growled and snatched the purse right outta my hand. ¡°Ain''t no fuckin'' Yankee gonna take my woman from me! C''mon Eunice, let''s git outta here.¡±

    I flashed the redneck a cocky grin as he spit on the ground next to me.

    As soon as his sweaty ass moved, a much better sight emerged from behind him.

    The most beautiful sight, even.

    Heidi wore her auburn hair down, pink sweater just a little too big on her. Her blue jeans fit nicely all the way down to her brown boots. She wasn''t wearing any make-up, which I didn''t mind. If anything, I preferred this look better than when she did try to pretty herself up. Her big eyes lit up as soon as she saw me.

    ¡°Genghis?¡±

    I smiled wide, holding my arms out for her.

    ¡°Here I am, babygir¡ª¡±

    In an instant, she smacked me hard across the face.

    Okay, I deserved that.

    If anything, I deserved much worse than just one angry slap.

    I rubbed the spot she hit as she wrapped her arms around me, burying her face into my left shoulder. She started to cry. ¡°Y-You stupid idiot! Fuckin'' dumbass man!¡± I smiled again, wrapping my arms around her tightly. ¡°I missed you too, Heidi.¡± We stood like that for who knows how long. I was sure people were looking at us, but I didn''t give a singular shit about that.

    I had my girl in my arms again.

    The only woman I''ve ever loved.

    I thought I''d lost her, but here she was.

    And I didn''t feel like letting her go just yet.

    ¡°She knows now.¡±

    I cocked an eyebrow, confused by the sudden appearance of Zombie Bastard inside my head. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I accidentally asked aloud. Heidi pulled away from me and gave me a funny look. ¡°What?¡± You know, I really needed to quit doing that. It always made people look at me like I was some kinda rambling lunatic. ¡°Nothin''. Let''s get outta here.¡±

    ...

    I tried to turn away, but she yanked at my arm.

    Oh shit, here we go.

    End of the road for me, folks.

    It''s off to Rikers for this handsome scumbag.

    ...

    ¡°I need my bags first, Genghis.¡±

    Or...not?

    Okay?

    ¡°You on vacation or somethin''?¡± I asked, half joking.

    She gave me a rather intense look.

    ¡°You could say that.¡±

    ¡°Clyde is nobody without his Bonnie.¡±

    I continued to look at her with a confused expression as she walked over to the side of the bus and returned with two bags. ¡°Care to help me here, Genghis?¡± Speechless, I just nodded and grabbed the bag from her right hand. What was happening?

    ¡°Destiny always knows best.¡±

    I put my free hand on my forehead, pressing my fingers against my temples.

    ¡°The show must go on.¡±

    ¡°Genghis, are you okay?¡±

    ¡°The light leads the way.¡±

    Light?

    What kinda fuckery is that?

    What fucking light?

    ¡°Genghis?¡±

    I shook my head, now looking at Heidi again. Her eyes watched me with curiosity. My eyes matched that look as I tried to make sense of things. She knew? Knew what? Was this what Genghis Two was referring to? That I needed Heidi before I could go to Casa do Dia?o? Did Zombie Bastard approach her, too? Was there a Heidi Two living inside her head? Why couldn''t Genghis Two just tell me that I needed to grab Heidi? It would''ve been easy, you know? It would''ve only taken him three seconds to just be like, ¡°Oh, nab our girlfriend before you go, okay?¡± That''s all he had to fucking do!

    ...

    That''s when I realized the day.

    Monday.

    Exactly one week since Genghis Two had told me to wait.

    Suddenly, a white light emitted from Heidi''s stomach.

    My eyes widened.

    The...light?!

    ¡°Genghis, what''s wrong? What are you lookin'' at?¡±

    She didn''t see the light.

    She didn''t feel the light.

    How?

    It was coming right outta her like a fucking lightbulb!

    That was when a cluster of different voices hit my brain.

    ¡°Give it another week. She doan know yet.¡±

    ¡°Destiny always knows best.¡±

    ¡°Mmm, that was amazing!¡±

    ¡°D''ere''s...somethin'' you oughta know, Genghis.¡±

    ¡°The show must go on.¡±

    ¡°Let''s meet up in Norfolk. I hear that''s near the Atlantic Ocean.¡±

    ¡°Atlantic Ocean.¡±

    ¡°Atlantic Ocean.¡±

    ¡°Atlantic Ocean.¡±

    ¡°The light leads the way.¡±

    ...

    I gasped loudly as the realization hit me like a truck.

    Everything had become clear to me.

    I knew what Heidi wanted to tell me.

    I knew why she brought these bags with her.

    And I knew where to find Casa do Dia?o.

    I didn''t know if this was Zombie Bastard''s doing or not.

    I didn''t know just how much Heidi knew.

    But I can tell you what I knew.

    Life was gonna be a whole hell of a lot different from now on.

    And lemme tell you, I didn''t know if I wanted to scream in excitement or piss myself in fear.

    ¡°You still wanna go see the ocean, Heidi?¡± I asked with a shaky voice. She shrugged. ¡°Sure, we might as well while we''re here, right?¡± I gently grabbed her hand and led her to the Chevelle.

    ¡­

    ...

    This, ladies and gentlemen, was my final day in the world you all know.

    Up next?

    A lifelong adventure in the mysterious wonderland known as Casa do Dia?o.

 Chapter Eleven: The Legend Begins

    Every legend has to begin somewhere. Some begin with a prophecy. Others begin with a tragedy. Hell, you even have those average Joe Schmoes who ain''t anything special, but somehow get tossed into some kinda game-changing quest. Me? No prophets ever saw me coming. The only tragedies in my life are the ones I willingly inflict onto others. And there ain''t anything average about me.

    This legend didn''t begin with an accident.

    It began with sixteen stomps to the throat.

    To think that just a week and a half ago, I was escaping Brooklyn, New York. I alternated between driving in random directions for hours and staying in cheap hotels. Once my time in a particular state was up, I hightailed it outta there. I busted through quite a few machines and people to get this far. Call me either a daring iconoclast or simply a reckless asshole¡ªboth descriptions are fairly accurate, in all honesty.

    I let my insanity guide me.

    Now here I was, all the way in goddamn Virginia.

    I was nearly four hundred miles away from home.

    And yet, the longest ride I had to endure during this entire time on the run was the five minute drive to the Norfolk cruise terminal with Heidi.

    For starters, it took us a while to actually get into the car and go. While I had expected her to pop off at me once she realized that the Trans-Am was no more, I was surprised to see that that wasn''t gonna be her reaction at all. Instead, it was something much more annoying and headache inducing. That reaction, ladies and gentlemen, was an interrogation.

    ¡°Genghis, where''s Packie''s car?¡± I scratched the back of my head, pretending to put serious thought into her question. ¡°Hmm, good question.¡± I continued making exaggerated ¡°um¡±s and ¡°hm¡±s for a solid minute before ultimately shrugging. ¡°Probably somewhere in New Jersey?¡±

    Her nostrils flared, eyes lowering. ¡°And why is it in New Jersey?¡± I tried my best to give her a confident grin, hoping to possibly charm my way out of this conversation. Normally, I could do this without any problem. If there''s one thing women love more than anything, it''s confidence. Sure, they like you to be nice and all...but that can only get you so far. If you''re giving your woman flowers and then immediately following it up by spending the next two hours talking about how much of a loser you are, she''ll gradually go from trying to lift you up to just letting you fall down. She''ll be so used to hearing you put yourself down that she''ll eventually grow to agree with your half-brained opinions. You''ll end up one day killing ''er because she ain''t turned on by your pathetic ass anymore.

    You know, like Dave.

    I ain''t no fucking Dave.

    I''m a confident guy¡ªa real trooper.

    But see, when you''re too distracted by the blaring light shining through your girl''s stomach, it''s kinda hard to be too confident.

    ¡°''Cuz the transmission went out in it? I needed to keep goin'' somehow, you know.¡± She folded her arms. ¡°Genghis Dillinger Boy.¡± I folded my arms back at her, mimicking her strict tone jokingly. ¡°Heidi Leanne Boy.¡± Unfortunately, she wasn''t amused and proceeded to tap her foot against the ground impatiently. I maintained my grin, despite how badly she was busting my balls at that moment in time. This essentially turned into an impromptu staring contest. Started off a little strong, but then I kept losing myself in the belly-bulb. Things got even harder when my mind began to wander.

    Was this the power Zombie Bastard gave me?

    Seeing completely random lights inside of people?

    Or was it just inside Heidi?

    Then why couldn''t she see it?

    Was it just a light, or was it also the¡­

    ...

    All in all, I''d say I lasted about three minutes against her.

    ¡°I wanted to cover my tracks, alright?¡± I said with a heavy sigh. She cocked an eyebrow and nodded slowly, no doubt pleased with her victory. She was lucky that she had some weird supernatural shit happening with her body; otherwise I wouldn''t of ever surrendered to her in this discussion. ¡°And so you stole this Chevelle...when? In Jersey?¡±

    I gritted my teeth, not pleased with this defeat in the very slightest. ¡°No. That came from D.C.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°So you stole a car in Jersey...and then another one in D.C.?¡± Alright Genghis, time to put some actual effort into shutting her up so you can go to your new home. She didn''t need to know just how many cars you''d been through to get here. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to ignore her stomach for a minute. ¡°One was to cover my tracks. The other one legitimately broke down on me. I wouldn''t of been able to make it here today if I hadn''t stolen this car, Heidi.¡±

    She stared at me for a good while, probably studying my face to see if I was lying. Luckily for me, I had learned the secret to being an efficient bullshitter years ago. It was quite simple, really; to be a good liar, you gotta know how to spot a bad liar. Pay attention to his body language as well as the manner in which he''s speaking. Is he acting nervous? Is he talking nervous? Watch his eyes¡ªare they wondering off to the side? Which way are they going? Left indicates they''re in thought, trying to remember details of an event. Right, on the other hand, says they''re in the middle of fabricating a tall-tale. Once you got all this down, you''ll be able to learn from his mistakes and not make them yourself.

    Yeah, yeah; I know what you''re thinking.

    ¡°You know she just caught you in a lie, right? You ain''t shit, Genghis.¡±

    Again, you try being a good liar when your lady''s belly is a fucking light-bulb.

    I''m trying, alright?

    Which is why I made damn sure my eyes never left hers.

    Face like stone.

    No more smarmy smiles.

    No movement other than occasionally blinking.

    ¡­

    She sighed after a minute of watching me.

    ¡°I guess I''d rather have you here in a stolen car than not have you here at all.¡±

    Suck on that, motherfuckers!

    Satisfied with my success, I relaxed my face and opened the driver''s side door to the Chevelle. I climbed in and unlocked the passenger side door for Heidi. After that, I quickly tossed my backpack as well as her first bag into the backseat and exited the car. Just as I noticed Heidi making her way to the door, I jogged over and opened the door for her. She stopped in her tracks and gave me a look; one that said, ¡°What''re you doin'', jackass?¡±

    ¡°Lemme help you with that,¡± I said, nodding at the second bag in her grip. She stared at me for a moment, not saying anything. Her expression remained the same, watching me like I was some kinda cheap birthday clown giving a poor performance at her party. But then she did something that I missed much more than I realized.

    Her big hazel eyes lit up and she gave me her signature schoolgirl giggle.

    I couldn''t help but produce a big, stupid smile at that. If I can be cheesy for just one second, I gotta confess that her giggle has a similar effect on me that drugs have. I feel happy, powerful, and in check. Lord knows I''d open every single door in her way if it meant she''d giggle for me again. So I guess Genghis Two was right after all; it wouldn''t of been possible for me to leave without Heidi. However, I do not consider this me being wrong. I mean, the handsome bastard is still me, after all. This is more like a reassessment of my priorities, really.

    ¡°You can try to woo me all you want, Genghis Boy. But you''re still a thief, amongst other things.¡± I waggled my eyebrows at her in an overly cartoony fashion all while sporting a grin that just screamed ¡°sleazeball¡±. ¡°This thief must''ve stolen your heart, too. Considerin'' you came all this way just to get it back.¡± She laughed a little harder, shaking her head. ¡°You''re so...bad!¡± I winked at her. ¡°Ain''t nothin'' wrong with bein'' a little bad every now and then, baby.¡±

    She smiled big at me. ¡°It''s nice to see that you''re still you, even though...¡± Heidi''s voice trailed off, eyes looking down at the ground. Her smile faded away after a couple of seconds. You know, about as long as it takes to remind yourself that you''re getting in the car with a wanted fugitive. Taking the hint, I held my hand out. ¡°Gimme your bag. We can tawlk in the car.¡±

    She nodded silently, handing me her luggage.

    I gave her a reassuring grin before stowing her bag away.

    We got into the car and we were off to see the Atlantic Ocean.

    Before we got too far from the bus station, I slowed down to a crawl and had Heidi roll the window down to ask some pedestrians what the fastest route to see the ocean was. They said we had two options: either go north for about twenty minutes to see the beach, or go south for roughly four to five minutes to see the cruise terminal. Obviously, I settled on the cruise terminal; I''d rather sail to Casa do Dia?o than swim there. You understand.

    Once she thanked the people and rolled her window back up, the rest of the drive was filled with enough tension that you could cut it with a knife. She clearly wasn''t proud of all the things I''d done; this much I knew for certain. But yet she still adamantly wanted to come see me¡ªshit, she wanted to come with me! This already told me one thing; her and Paul were more than likely not seeing each other anymore. And out of all the possible reasons this could be the case, I could only think of two that made any sense...maybe three if you believe in fairy tale romances. I don''t, so I suspected only the first two possibilities were probably true. However, I''d rather know than assume.

    ¡°So...¡± I started, eyes alternating between watching her and watching the road, ¡°Paul know you''re here with me?¡± She sighed, now looking at the road outside her window. ¡°He probably suspects it. But it don''t matter if he knows anymore.¡± I cocked an eyebrow, leaning back into my seat. ¡°You finally dump his ass?¡± She was silent for a minute or two. She didn''t look at me, but I could tell by her reflection in the window that she was deep in thought.

    ¡°Paul dumped me,¡± she muttered with a pinch of melancholy.

    ...

    That was the moment, ladies and gentlemen, when two possibilities became one definite.

    It became clear that Zombie Bastard had no part in convincing Heidi to come with me to Casa do Dia?o.

    Hell, she probably didn''t even know the place existed.

    To Heidi, it didn''t matter where she ended up.

    She packed her bags and ran out of desperation.

    I nodded slowly, trying to think of the best way to address the big elephant in the room. I couldn''t just come out and say it for her because she''d then accuse me of planning this all along. Trust me, this shit wasn''t planned¡ªnot by a long fucking shot. I only kept quiet because I didn''t want to worry her. I see now that I was stupid to stay silent.

    Sue me for being human.

    Around that time, I saw the sign for the cruise terminal. However, our conversation was far from over. With flashbacks from the night of December 2<sup>nd</sup> playing vividly in my head, I continued to lead her into her long-awaited confession. ¡°Did he find out about us? That why he left?¡± I asked as I flipped my turn signal on. She looked over at me and sighed again. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    I swallowed.

    Time for the bombshell, you guys.

    ¡°How''d he find out?¡± She took a deep breath, waiting for me to park the car before saying anything else. Good call; had I not already known what the news was, I''d probably freak out and nearly get us killed. I turned the car off and looked at her, waiting for her answer. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was more worried telling me this news than she was saddened by it.

    She probably thought I''d take it badly.

    That I''d fly off the handle.

    No.

    I wouldn''t do that.

    Not with Heidi.

    She sighed one more time.

    ¡­

    ¡°I''m pregnant, Genghis.¡±

    I continued to blankly stare at her. Even though I mentally prepared myself for this, I still had a hard time processing the news. I mean, what man wouldn''t? ¡°And...Paul doan think it''s his?¡± Why did I ask that? I knew better than to ask that question. Paul ain''t the one that had a condom rip on him in a Walmart parking lot.

    ¡°He knows it ain''t his,¡± she said. I cocked my eyebrow again. So I was right? Heidi and Paul never fucked during the entirety of their five-year old relationship? It certainly explained why she was always willing to have a go with me whenever she got home. I know it''s pretty hard for women to resist my dashing good looks and charming personality as well as my bad-boy reputation...but I imagine it''s even harder when their own man ain''t willing to turn them over and make ''em scream his name into a pillow. Her bold statement surely confirmed suspicions that I''d had for years now, right?

    Wrong.

    ¡°Paul''s gotta rare disawder, Genghis. It''s called ¡°Klinefelter Syndrome¡±.¡± I squinted at her. ¡°Kline¡ªwhat?¡± She sighed, looking into her lap. ¡°It''s somethin'' he was born with. You know how girls are born with two ¡°X¡± chromosomes? And how boys are born with one ¡°X¡± and one ¡°Y¡±?¡± I nodded slowly, trying to follow along the best I could. ¡°Paul was born with two ¡°X¡± chromosomes and one ¡°Y¡± chromosome.¡±

    The confusion initially written in my face was now being re-written in bold lettering.

    ¡°So...Paul''s basically a chick with a dick?¡± Heidi looked at me again, grilling me slightly. ¡°No, you idiot. It means that he''s got very low testosterone in his system. And his sperm is one hundred percent sterile.¡± I tilted my head, still trying to bring myself to reality on the situation. I was tempted to ask Heidi if it was possible that Paul was lying through his teeth in order to get outta being a parent. After all, it seemed odd that he didn''t tell her something like this sooner. But then I reminded myself that this sorry, lovesick sap had proposed to her dozens of times throughout their relationship. Paul had always been serious about Heidi; he wouldn''t of just bailed on her like that if his sexual health wasn''t an issue.

    ¡­

    So I had to accept the undeniable.

    Heidi was knocked-up.

    Me and Paul were the only guys she ever slept with.

    Paul was shooting blanks this whole time.

    Evidently, I wasn''t.

    ¡°Genghis, you understand what I''m sayin''?¡±

    Yeah, Heidi; I sure did.

    ¡°You''re gonna be a daddy.¡±

    Yeah...I sure was.

    ¡°Genghis, say somethin''.¡±

    I''m gonna be a dad.

    ¡°Hello?¡±

    I''m gonna be a dad...gonna be a dad¡­

    ¡°Genghis!¡±

    ...

    I snapped outta my daze and looked at her. ¡°I''m gonna be a dad,¡± I said, still half-stunned. She nodded, face softening a little. ¡°Yeah, you big dummy¡ªyou are.¡± My eyes glued themselves onto her presently flat belly. It was difficult to swallow the thought that in just a couple of weeks, that same belly was gonna puff out like a goddamn balloon. It was even harder to swallow the thought that in nine months, there was gonna be a Mini Genghis being brought into the world. One me was already too much to handle for most people; can you imagine two mes running around? Complete mayhem!If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    But then, whilst letting this news properly sink in, I noticed the belly-bulb was shining a little brighter than it had at the bus station. That''s when I remembered where I had just driven us to and why we were there. My apologies for being a little on the slow side today. I just learned I was gonna be a motherfucking father, after all. Surely you can understand the influx of thoughts going through my noggin, right?

    ¡­

    That''s when excitement hit me like a train.

    What occurred next almost happened too quickly for me to process it properly.

    Try to keep up if you can, folks.

    ...

    I pulled Heidi close and kissed her right on the mouth. ¡°Casa do Dia?o, Heidi! Wecanraiseimfawhwayfromhere,¡± I said a little too rapidly after pulling away from her. She gave me a puzzled look. ¡°Casa¡ª¡± I didn''t give her time to speak as I was already getting out of the Chevelle. ¡°Genghis, wait!¡± I ignored her, reaching into the car to grab our bags and toss them outside. ¡°Genghis, what''re you doin''?¡±

    She got out of the car just as I was sliding my arms through the straps of my backpack. ¡°Grababagokay?¡± She held her arms out. ¡°What?!¡± I growled at her and pointed at the lone bag still sitting on the ground, growing more impatient by the second. ¡°Jusgrabafuckinbag!¡± She groaned loudly and did as she was told.

    I grabbed her hand and bolted towards the terminal building. Her protests went in one ear and through the other. For once, I was glad that I lost the ability to enunciate my words. I had not the time nor the mentality to properly explain this all to Heidi. Besides, why should I explain things when the environment did it for me?

    Yeah, you heard that right.

    Like a finger snap, a lightning storm began just over the terminal.

    No rain; just lightning.

    And a fuck ton of it, too.

    Just as we got within six feet of the entrance, a bolt popped the ground right in front of me. Heidi and I both screamed loudly, nearly shitting ourselves. Clearly it didn''t want us going inside the terminal. So I guided Heidi towards the outdoor docks. ¡°Lesgo!¡± Once we were halfway there, I looked down and noticed a giant crack following us. I looked back for a second to see that it had began where that lightning bolt had struck.

    ¡°It¡¯s all for you, meus fillos.¡±

    ¡°Is it just me, or did somebody just tawlk to us?!¡± Despite being surrounded by chaos, I nearly screamed in joy. Finally somebody besides me heard Zombie Bastard''s grating voice! I ain''t as crazy as I thought!

    ¡°They gave their lives for my vision.¡±

    We stopped running once the crack shot past us. Heidi clung on tightly to my arm as we watched the crack begin to spread apart, opening like a mouth. ¡°What''s happening, Genghis? What is this?!¡± Honey, I don''t fucking know. I knew coming here was gonna get us to Casa do Dia?o, but I didn''t really think of how it would happen. I just assumed we''d go inside, buy tickets, and then enjoy a week long cruise that would eventually lead us to our new home. Perhaps one or two fucked up things would happen, like maybe your belly light stabbing me in the gut and turning me into a goddamn shark or something. I didn''t expect the motherfucking rapture, alright?

    ¡°Things will be the way they should be.¡±

    Once the ground opened wide enough, a fog of shrieking white launched out onto the water. It was so loud that me and Heidi both dropped the bags we were carrying to cover our ears. What was this? Souls from Hell coming to help guide us to Casa do Dia?o? Huh, who knew corrupt souls were so helpful? They''ve helped me more than heavenly angels have, that''s for damned sure.

    As more and more fog hit the ocean, something began to slowly materialize on the water. It was forming some kind of large infrastructure¡ªmost likely a ship, judging by the shape of the skeleton. Heidi leaned closer, face looking like she just saw a dinosaur tear down a skyscraper. Not that I could blame her; my face probably looked about the same at that moment.

    Soon the ship''s bow became more pronounced as the hull finished its construction. Splashes of purple, green, white, and gray painted the exterior. It wasn''t until it was colored in that I realized the bow had a giant snake wrapped around it. I assumed it was fake, but then it started moving around. Even from the somewhat far distance, I could''ve sworn I heard it hissing. ¡°Jesus H. Christ,¡± I somehow managed to mutter aloud.

    The final touch was the name appearing on the side.

    Princess Moura.

    Interesting name for a boat.

    Soon the ship was complete, in all her unique...beautiful glory.

    ¡°Boa sorte, meus fillos.¡±

    I looked at Heidi and nodded towards the Princess Moura. Honestly, I''m sure she wanted desperately to argue with me over boarding the ship. She wanted to yell at me and tell me how I was a moron for wanting to get on a boat that clearly had some kinda demonic influence behind it. However, words failed to come outta her throat. She was far too shocked to question my logic and, as a result, she simply submitted to my request and took my hand.

    We lifted the luggage and walked together toward the docks. A ramp had opened by the time we got there. We looked at each other, hand in hand. We didn''t say a word, preferring to let our eyes do the talking for us.

    She was uncertain.

    I reassured her.

    She was nervous.

    I winked at her.

    She smiled, finally nodding.

    ...

    Side by side, we boarded the Princess Moura. The moment we made it onto the deck, the ramp closed up. ¡°Hrrrrn!¡± echoed the ship''s horn. Moura spared no time in getting ready to hit the waters. She began to turn away from the docks. Jerking us around a bit, I dragged Heidi away from the edge of the ship. Didn''t want to risk us falling overboard, you know?

    Before we knew it, Moura was setting sail at a breakneck speed. That ain''t a joke, you guys. It felt like we were riding the world''s largest race car. ¡°Fuck this!¡± I shouted, taking Heidi and our luggage into one of the cabins in the middle of the deck. Once we were in, we tossed our bags¡ªas well as my backpack¡ªagainst the wall and watched the scene from the little window on the door.

    The sky shone dark blue, despite it still being around noon. Zeus''s hand-bullets struck the sea by the hundred. Eventually, the lightning damaged the ocean so much that it began to turn purple. I didn''t think it was possible for water to get bruised. Honestly, I still had my doubts.

    Before we could truly process what was going on outside, Moura sped up some more. This time, the force slammed us against the wall on the other end of the guest room. I''m fairly certain normal ships¡ªregardless if they''re passenger, transport, or military¡ªain''t supposed to be able sail at the speed of fucking light. Heidi let out a piercing scream that successfully managed to hurt my eardrums. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. The light inside her stomach was burning so brightly that I could feel the heat radiating into my own stomach. And with as tightly as I was holding her, you better bet your ass that it hurt like a fucking bitch.

    So much, in fact, that I actually began to feel mad sick. ¡°Heidi, doan¡ª¡± Before I could say anything, I was turning my head away from her and violently gagging. Something came out, but it wasn''t vomit. And no, it thankfully wasn''t blood either...though it was the same color.

    That''s right, a dark red ray of light came shooting out of my mouth. It hit the floor and spread to the wall, getting up our height. Judging by the look in her eyes, Heidi saw it too. ¡°De''uck?!¡± I yelped while my mouth was stuck open. Before too long, a figure emerged in the red-light picture show. He was transparent in the red, so I couldn''t make out much of his appearance other than him being a rather muscular guy, strong jawline, short crew cut, and probably around my height.

    He was looking right at us; right at me. ¡°Find me,¡± he whispered with the hint of an accent¡ªpossibly Irish. I tried my best to cock an eyebrow despite my eyes nearly popping outta my head in shock. Who even was this guy? Where was I supposed to find him?

    Next thing I knew, the bastard was lunging through the wall, still transparent in red.

    Heidi screamed again as he wrapped his hand around my arm.

    He pressed his thumb into my bicep.

    Now I was screaming.

    ¡°''uck''uck''uck¡ªdude!¡±

    Sonuva-fucking-bitch.

    Goddamn thumb felt like a fucking branding iron against my flesh!

    Like some farmer was burning his initials into one of his prized bulls.

    I tried to headbutt the motherfucker away from me, but he evaporated into the air the second my forehead met his. Fucking cheap cocksucker¡ªat least I could close my mouth again. Right on cue with all of the other unfortunate mishaps that had occurred that afternoon, Moura decided to drastically slow down once Reddy-McFleshFire was gone...which resulted in me and Heidi being flung against the door of the cabin. I winced in pain at the door knob jabbing me in the lower back. First a slap to the face from Heidi, then a near encounter with a lightning bolt, then being thrown all over the place by a psychotically fast sea-taxi, then Heidi repeatedly hurting my ears with her loud screaming, then vomiting red lights, then having some bastard''s thumb burn into my arm, and then a goddamn doorknob bashing against me¡ªwhat was next? Heidi just randomly kneeing me in the testicles for no particular reason?

    Nope, just her screaming in my ear again.

    ¡°Genghis!?¡±

    I grunted in response, still reeling mostly from the burn in my arm. Don''t you be laughing¡ªimagine somebody smoking an enchanted cigar that never runs out or burns out. Now imagine this person attempting to put the cigar out in your arm. The fire ain''t ever gonna die and neither is the cigar, so it''s just a matter of how long they wanna hear you scream before they pull it away.

    That sound like fun, folks?

    No?

    Then shut up and continue reading.

    She nodded towards the door window right beside my head. ¡°Look!¡± she whimpered. Considering that lightning and purple water was the last thing I saw outdoors, I just knew that what was out there now was gonna make me feel like I was tripping on acid. But alas, I was curious. Against my better judgment, I turned to look at what had her spooked now.

    Holy Toledo.

    I couldn''t tell if I was glad I looked, or if I hated myself for it.

    Atop the fuchsia waters, the Princess Moura now sailed calmly during our wayward journey to Casa do Dia?o. However, it appeared our princess was moving a little too easily under the burnt orange sky. What do I mean? I mean we had fucking guests aboard now. What appeared to be a squadron green, humanoid creatures took turns leaping aboard the ship to caress the giant snake that had originally been at the ship''s bow. Judging by the scales all over their naked bodies as well as the rather large lines that looked very much like gills on their necks, I''d put money on these guys being male mermaids. Ain''t they called ¡°mermen¡± or something like that?

    However, it was looking like the snake wanted nothing to do with these freaks. It made a noise that sounded much more like a beastly shriek than it did a reptilian growl. The mermen took the hint and all began to retreat for the water again. However, the snake was livid and began thrashing at them. Heidi screamed again when the snake got one of them and spat his indigo blood onto our door.

    Welp, that was a safe indicator that we weren''t getting outta our cabin until we reached our destination.

    At least the cabin had a bathroom and a stove.

    Maybe me and Heidi could learn to make Roasted Merman?

    They live in the ocean, after all.

    I ain''t gotta a problem with seafood!

    ¡°Let''s...get away from the door,¡± I whispered slowly. Heidi nodded in agreement and escaped my grasp. I walked a little ways past her and bent down to grab my backpack. But, of course, the snake crashed hard against our cabin and caused me to drop the bag and tumble onto the queen-sized bed. However one good thing came from this event; Heidi was also tossed onto the bed...and right on top of me.

    I, at first, grinned wide at the beautiful woman hovering over me. However, I then reminded my stupid ass that there''s a baby inside of her. Granted, it wasn''t much of a baby yet...but still; thought that counts. ¡°You alright?!¡± I asked frantically, reaching down to rub her belly. Still flat, not bleeding...but the light seemed to have finally vanished. Hallelujah.Heidi looked down at me uneasily. ¡°I''m good, Genghis. Nothin'' hurts.¡± I sighed with relief, dropping my hands. It was undoubtedly gonna take a while for this whole ¡°daddy-to-be¡± thing to really sink in.

    ¡°How''s your arm?¡± she asked, nodding at the burn on my muscle. Aching; like somebody had dunked a dagger in molten lava and then stabbed me with it. But I wasn''t gonna tell her that. ¡°I''m alright. Doan you wawrry ''bout me, okay?¡± She squinted at me. ¡°I can''t not wawrry ''bout you, Genghis.¡± I smiled up at her. ¡°You and me got somebody more important to wawrry ''bout now, you know.¡± She smiled weakly back at me. ¡°Yeah, we do.¡± She was scared¡ªI could tell. Can''t say I blame her after the shit we''d seen that afternoon.

    I reached up and ran my fingers through her hair. ¡°I''m a real bastard, Heidi. There ain''t no denyin'' that. I''ve lied, cheated, stole, and killed. Hell, I''d probably spontaneously combust if I step foot into Brooklyn ever again.¡± I took a deep breath before saying the next part. ¡°But I ain''t ever lied about how I feel about you. I dunno quite where we''ll end up after we get off this Hell-ship, but I promise to protect you with my life. If you''ll have me, I''ll do everythin'' I can to provide a promisin'' future for our kid.¡±

    That ain''t a lie, folks.

    I really meant that I''d stop being a worthless bum who ain''t good for anything.

    However!

    Let it be known that this don''t exactly mean I''ll live a clean, quiet life.

    I ain''t ever been good at ¡°clean¡± and ¡°quiet¡±.

    Can you guys seriously see me in a tie, working some desk job?

    I''m sorry, but fatherhood ain''t enough to turn me on to the mundane nine-to-five.

    ¡°You really do need help, Genghis,¡± Heidi responded bluntly. I sighed, now looking away from her. ¡°I know,¡± I said quietly. That still wasn''t a lie...sorta. Call it a half-truth. I know that I''m a psychopath¡ªit don''t take a shrink to tell you that one. However, I remember how I was when I tried medication all those years ago. I was unmotivated, unenthusiastic, uninspired¡ªunsatisfied. I hated the boring drone I had become and I just chose one day to flush the rest of my meds down the toilet. I never ordered anymore refills and never went to see that douche with the clipboard and the springy couch again. As of today, I can say with utmost certainty that I''d rather be a manic-depressive train-wreck than a drooling vegetable.

    ¡°But...¡± Heidi continued, gently pushing her fingers against my cheek so I would be facing her again, ¡°if you really think this place we''re goin'' to will provide you the chance to live a new life...¡± I nodded eagerly. ¡°I do, Heidi. I know it will.¡± She rubbed my cheek and leaned down to kiss my lips. ¡°Then I''ll stand beside you the whole way.¡± She grabbed my left hand and placed it over her belly. ¡°We both will. It''s kinda too late to turn this ship around, anyway.¡±

    I chuckled, rubbing my palm against her abdomen.

    ¡°You''re right,¡± I whispered as I pushed her head down to kiss me again.

    ¡­

    So it was settled once and for all.

    Me, Heidi and our child, alone in a new land.

    It was finally time to say good-bye to the world we once knew.

    And eagerly greet the new world of Casa do Dia?o with open arms.

    ¡­

    ...

    We traveled the sea for about five days. Remember when I said that we''d be stuck in the cabin during the whole trip? Yeah, I was right. Though we at least found the refrigerator, which had been stockpiled with different ingredients. More importantly, neither of us set the cabin on fire during our cooking attempts. Though, admittedly, I did roast a chicken breast a little too much one day while morning sickness was kicking Heidi''s ass in the bathroom.

    Despite being guarded by a giant snake that eats sea people, the trip was fairly boring.

    But the boring wait was well worth it by the time we finally arrived.

    I wanna say it was around three in the afternoon when I heard the Princess Moura''s loud ¡°Hrrrrn!¡± for the second time since our journey had began. I wanted to get out on the deck and take a better look at the place Zombie Bastard moans the name of every time he jerks off to his human torture porn. Unfortunately, Heidi was hesitant of either one of us exiting the cabin for fear that the giant guard-snake would eat us up. So I offered her a compromise; I''d stay in the cabin with her until we docked, but I was allowed to poke my head out every once in a while.

    She agreed to my terms, but made it clear that it would be my fault if I lost my entire upper body.

    Pretty reasonable argument, I suppose.

    From the few glances I was able to steal, I already noticed one major difference between the United States and Casa do Dia?o. While Norfolk''s cruise terminal looked relatively modern and up to date with its own building, Casa do Dia?o''s terminal was literally just a dock. That was it¡ªno customs booth, no check-in/check-out, no waiting lounge. Just a small, wooden dock that looked more like a spot for fisherman to work than it did a place to let off the passengers of a ship. Then again, me and Heidi appeared to be the only goddamn guests on this fucking ship, so maybe that was a good call after all.

    It also appeared to be snowing pretty heavily. And, judging by the amount of land between the dock and what looked like the outskirts of a large city, that meant that we''d have to walk quite a ways in the wretchedly cold weather. And I do mean wretchedly; the cold air stung my face after only a minute or two of looking out. ¡°Heidi, you might wanna dress warm,¡± I said, closing the door in front of me.

    ...

    But then a very familiar sound hit my ears and the door went flying open again.

    I looked out and saw popping lights going back and forth at one another.

    Gunfire.

    ¡°Genghis, what''s goin'' on?¡±

    I walked outta the cabin and out onto the deck.

    ¡°Genghis, wait!¡±

    I leaned over the side of the ship and looked closely at the sight we were only mere minutes away from meeting.

    About eight snowmobiles were trailing along the path towards the docks.

    Four of them were red and white.

    Other four were blue and black.

    ¡°Genghis, come back!¡±

    As we got closer, the gunfire got louder.

    It was fast shooting firearms, firing off multiple rounds per second.

    After squinting, I could tell it wasn''t a rifle of any kind.

    Gun was too small.

    These were Tommys.

    If my old man''s gangster movies taught me anything growing up, it was that only the mob used Tommys.

    Next thing I knew, one of the goons had big black wings pop outta his back.

    You heard that right.

    Big black wings.

    Like an eagle, he flew up into the sky and tossed his Tommy out into the ocean.

    He replaced firepower with electric power.

    Yerp.

    This sonuvabitch started shooting lightning from his hands.

    ¡°Genghis, you''re lettin'' the cold in. Come back!¡±

    One by one, this fucker shot down his foes with ease.

    Their blood painted the snow.

    I heard of yellow snow, but this was the first time I''d seen red snow.

    Suddenly, one guy on the ground tossed his own Tommy away and¡ªnot fucking kidding here¡ªbegan breathing fire at the flying gangster.

    A bolt of lightning hit him around the time his flames incinerated Mr. Wings.

    All of the gangsters were dead.

    And the big kicker of this all?

    Not one single cop was in sight.

    No retard in blue was there to try stopping these guys from duking it out.

    ¡­

    Not one.

    ¡°Genghis?¡±

    Mania painted my face.

    No cops.

    No rules.

    Anything goes.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Every legend has to begin somewhere.

    Some begin with a prophecy.

    Others begin with a tragedy.

    Genghis Dillinger Boy''s legend began with sixteen stomps to the throat.

    The Great Khan''s, on the other hand, began when he came home to Casa do Dia?o.

 Chapter Eleven Point Two: From Behind the Bloody Ray

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Casa do Dia?o, the land of pernicious duality.

    Where the sun was an artist who painted smiles onto the flowers and shimmering self-portraits onto the waters.

    ...

    Life was much brighter whenever the sky was bright. The farmlands filled with countless crops humming their joyful harvest tune. In the big city, businesses boomed and people roamed safely in the daylight. However, the large star''s fraternal sibling¡ªMoon¡ªalways saw this and, in jealous rages, immediately got to sabotaging the hard work as soon as Sun went to sleep for the night. Plants suffered, animals were more likely to get run over by careless drivers, and people always got hurt¡ªmore often than not past the point of no recovery. Life was no longer bright and shiny; only dark and scary. The large star always woke up seething with anger upon realizing what Moon had done. But that was never enough to quit working¡ªoh no. The Sun would just fix everything back to the way it was until the next time Moon was feeling jealous.

    As needless as this rivalry appeared, it was only a reflection of how the humans down below handled life on a daily basis. Only two types of people lived in Casa do Dia?o: the pure of heart, and the not-so-pure of heart. The people feared neutrality more than illness and death. Things had to be one way or another¡ªnever a combined effort from all sides. Black and white ruled the island¡ªgray was far too rare for the average person to comprehend.

    One of the few examples of gray in Casa do Dia?o was Leroy Barris.

    Oh no, not another introduction. I''m already here, you undead prick. You doan need to keep showin'' me all this shit, you know!

    It began when Leroy was four years old. He and his family lived in Bessemer, Alabama; all the way in the United States. The year was 1974, which meant that it had only been a few years since the end of the Civil Rights Movement. At least, that was what his mother had said to his father one day. His father then responded by yelling that he was sick and tired of the neighbors burning crosses in their front yard.

    Annnnd they were approached by some freaky¡ª

    So the day came when they told little Leroy that they were leaving the country.

    Oh. Oh wow. We''re skippin'' the invitation this time? Hallelujah!

    He had no recollection of what his parents did for a living¡ªhell, he didn''t even remember their names. All he knew was that the three of them entered Casa do Dia?o only for them to be ambushed by a group of white gangsters operating in Oeste District. Leroy was spared. The two of them, on the other hand, were not.

    Shit. Tough break, kiddo.

    Once Leroy''s parents were dead, the long-haired gang leader had ordered his men to put their guns away. ¡°Leave ze boy. E''ll starve before anyone finds ''im,¡± he said with a thick French accent. And so they left the small child behind, leaving him to cry over the bodies of his mother and father. He shook his father''s bloody corpse. ¡°Papa?¡± He didn''t get a response, so he then shook his mother. ¡°Mama?!¡± Again, no response. ¡°Mama! Papa! Please! Wake up!¡±

    But it was no use.

    Nothing the boy could say or do would bring his parents back to him.

    However, the small child would soon learn that he wasn''t the only witness to this heinous crime.

    Lemme guess; Zombie Bastard? Tall naked lady with white hair?

    From around the corner, Leroy had suddenly heard a noise. Granted, he wouldn''t of called it a ¡°strange¡± noise or even a ¡°funny¡± one. Using those words would''ve implied that he''d never heard a noise like it before when, in fact, he had. It was a noise he heard frequently whenever his family visited his grandfather on his farm in Georgia.

    Every time the boy went outside to help his Grandpappy out, the farmer''s old gelding, River, would follow the two around, waiting to be fed fresh vegetables. River was a handsome Clydesdale that was said to have once been a racehorse in his youth. He eventually retired and enjoyed the easy life of mooching carrots off his best friend.

    For a split second, Leroy had thought River had come to rescue him.

    But the sight of the beautiful white mare slowly approaching him from out of an alleyway told him he was mistaken.

    Or a horse. Horses work too, I guess.

    Her white coat shimmered in the moonlight, hair sparkling like diamonds. Her whinny even had a somewhat melodic sound as compared to other horses. Like she was singing him a soothing tune to hush his tears. Once she stopped next to the boy, she looked down at him with heterochromatic eyes; left eye green, right eye blue.

    What a lovely creature she was.

    ¡°H-Hi?¡± Leroy sniffled, forcing himself to stand up. The horse looked at him for a moment, blinking once or twice. The young child rubbed the blood of his life-givers all over his clothes¡ªno doubt unintentionally. The mare ached for the boy, knowing he was at a severe disadvantage being all by himself in a such a dangerous place like Oeste District. She nickered softly, trying to coax him into touching her muzzle.

    The child just stared at her, grief still taking over his face. That''s when the realization came to the majestic mare. This child wasn''t from Casa do Dia?o. In fact, she''d be willing to guess that he just got there before this atrocity had occurred. After all, the Princess Moura usually docked on the city''s shore unless the passengers made special requests.

    Wait a minute, we could make ¡°special requests¡± on that ship? To who, the giant snake?!

    The mare nickered again, letting the child know she understood. Afterward, she lowered herself to the ground. Leroy watched as the horse bent her knees and laid down on her side. The sight was astonishing; he had never seen a horse lay down before. He just assumed they all slept standing up.

    After yet another nicker, Leroy finally took the chance and approached the horse. He examined the white mare''s face as she continued to watch him. Her green and blue eyes were radiant and youthful, but not quite on par with a foal''s eyes. Her behavior alone was a tell-tale sign of maturity and wisdom. She reminded Leroy much of his mother.

    He held his right hand out and touched her muzzle. The remnants of his parents'' blood painted the spot just above her nose. ¡°S-Sorry! I didn''t mea¡ª¡± Before he could properly apologize, the red faded into white. The boy''s eyes widened, pulling his hand away.

    How did she clean her nose without touching it?

    Was she a magical horse?!

    You got no clue, kid.

    The mare sniffed his hand and snorted. Leroy rubbed his face against his shoulder. ¡°C-Can you help me?¡± The mare nickered again, jerking her head back as if she were telling him to climb onto her back. Lost and alone in a new place, Little Leroy didn''t know what else to do.

    Mama was gone.

    Papa was gone.

    It was now just him.

    So he nodded and hopped onto the mare''s back.

    She let out a loud whinny as a warning, telling him that he needed to hold on tightly.

    Leroy was confused at first, but immediately caught on as soon as she started lifting herself to her feet.

    He wrapped his arms tightly around her neck as she galloped through the streets of Oeste District.

    The boy didn''t know where she was taking him or what was in store for him.

    But he trusted his new friend with his life.

    She''d protect him from the scary people living on this island.

    Within minutes, he fell asleep on her back, arms still holding onto her.

    ¡­

    When Leroy woke up, he noticed that he was no longer in the city. In fact, it looked like he was in a completely different country altogether. Before the small child was a lush meadow, flowers ranging from azaleas to sunflowers living harmoniously amongst each other. A giant smile spread across his face and he jumped off his companion to join the flowers. The sun was bright and shiny, making the boy feel like he was finally safe. It was incredibly hard to believe that this beautiful, serene field shared the same land as that awful, violent city.

    The mare was pleased with this location, and decided it was only fitting for the child to stay here¡ªat least for a little while. She watched as the boy ran away in the flowery field, laughing like he didn''t lose his mother and father just hours ago. This was good; it wasn''t healthy to dwell on the past. As hurtful as it was to say, the child''s parents were no more. He''d only be wasting valuable time grieving their deaths at such a young age. He was just a little boy, after all. He should be frolicking and playing¡ªnot crying!

    You say this as you watch him, no doubt noticin'' the blood stains still on his clothes. Stupid animal.

    As night fell, it was time for the horse to leave the boy.

    And you''re leavin'' him behind? Fuckin'' useless horse!

    Leroy hugged the horse''s two front legs, crying loudly. ¡°Don''t go! Don''t go!¡± The mare looked down at the child, melancholy filling her eyes like a cup. She didn''t want to leave the child behind, but she knew she had to. Otherwise, he''d never grow stronger. He''d never learn how to be self-sufficient.

    He needed to be independent.

    It was the only way anyone can survive a place like Casa do Dia?o.

    However, this didn''t mean that he had to be left completely empty-handed.

    Here we go; I was wonderin'' when the freaky powers were comin''.

    The horse snorted, making the boy look up at her. He let go of her legs and got to his feet. ¡°Please,¡± Leroy sobbed, ¡°stay with me. I ain''t got anyone else!¡± The mare nickered, nudging his face with her nose. Leroy touched her muzzle and closed his eyes.

    That''s when a voice entered his thoughts.

    ¡°I will always be with you. Even if I''m not there beside you.¡±

    His eyes widened and he jumped back.

    ¡°You...you''re a talking horse?!¡±

    I expected much crazier things, to tell you the truth. Still am, really.

    The horse nickered again. ¡°Do not be afraid, child. I have brought you here so you could see Casa do Dia?o''s majesty rather than just it''s atrocities.¡± The boy tilted his head, but didn''t say anything. ¡°You will be just fine, Little Leroy. Touch my muzzle.¡± Eyes still wide, he nodded and did as he was told.

    ...

    That''s when his hand began to glow a bright blue.

    ¡°This power will ensure that you''re safe from evil. It is your duty, however, to use it wisely or unwisely.¡±

    At that point, Leroy''s entire body was swallowed by a sudden flood of water shooting from the blue light.

    For a few minutes, the meadow was gone.

    The flowers were no more.

    His friend was gone, too.

    The four-year old was underwater in an unknown body of water.

    But he wasn''t drowning.

    In fact, breathing wasn''t an issue at all.

    The water had felt as natural to him as the open air did.

    Yerp, about what I expected.

    Once he realized this, the water drained and returned him to the flowery meadow.

    However, the mare was still missing.

    Lord knew when he''d see his friend again.

    But he was going to look for her.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Regardless of how long it took him, he was going to find her.

    He was going to prove to her that he was strong.

    And so the boy began his life as the sole survivor of his family.

    ¡­

    For the first month, Leroy couldn''t bring himself to actually leave the meadow. He knew he had to if he wanted to find his friend again, but he just...couldn''t. He was too afraid to leave what he largely considered his ¡°happy place¡±. At first, this worked to his advantage. Upon searching the flowers in the field, he discovered a couple of crops mixed into the field. These crops provided him with plenty of potatoes, carrots, and grapes. He never liked the taste of carrots, but he knew he couldn''t be too picky at a time like this. After all, it was better to be disgusted than hungry.

    Otherwise, living was fairly easy. He ran around the field when he was bored, talked to the sunflowers when he was lonely, peed in the patch of grass away from the flowers, and slept with the lavenders at night. As for bathing, he waited for it to rain to take off his clothes and wash his skin. And with his new power, rain didn''t harm him like it would a normal person. In fact, the water made him feel rejuvenated as if he were one of the flowers in the meadow!

    Just try doin'' that in the city. I dare you.

    However the day came when the rain stopped coming.

    The crops stopped providing him food.

    And the flowers stopped talking to him.

    This told Leroy that it was time to stop being scared.

    If he wanted to survive, he had to be a big boy and return to the city.

    It turned out that the mare hadn''t actually taken him too terribly far away from the city¡ªor at least it didn''t seem like it was that far. It took the boy about two hours walking distance before he started seeing a road and signs written in a long list of different languages¡ªEnglish being the third from the top. As soon as he recognized the words ¡°Oeste District¡±, the boy stopped dead in tracks.

    Almost there.

    The place where this all began.

    What if he ran into those gangsters again?

    Would they recognize him?

    Would he end up dead like his parents?

    Leroy shook his head and marched onward.

    As soon as he reached the city, the little boy realized the city was much, much larger than he thought. Greeting him upon his arrival was a giant sign with what appeared to be a geographical map of Casa do Dia?o. The first thing Leroy noticed was that the island was shaped like a giant heart¡ªa human heart; not one of those curvy hearts that appeared in cartoons whenever somebody fell in love. The only reason the boy recognized this shape was because his father had once shown him a drawing he''d done for Leroy''s mother.

    Interesting gift for the missus, I suppose.

    The next thing the boy noticed was the portion of the island that was labeled ¡°Oeste District¡±. It was massive. Oeste District took up half of the island! Just below Oeste District¡ªcovering the entire southern portion of Casa do Dia?o¡ªwas Sur District; which, if the arrow pointing towards the border was any indicator, appeared to be where Leroy had just come from. Just above Sur District¡ªright in the middle of the island¡ªwas Centro District. There was a picture of a big building on it, like a Town Hall or something. But Leroy was more amused by the fact that the district looked like a large strip of bacon on the map. To the right of Centro District was Leste District. It was almost as long as Oeste District, but not quite there; though it looked a little thicker towards the top. On it were pictures of tanks and this odd flag that had a purple lightning bolt down the middle, separating portions of black and portions of white. And finally, crowning the entire island, was Norte District. This district had pictures of trees on it, so Leroy assumed it was the woodsy version of Sur District.

    Topping off the sign was large text reading ¡°BENVIDO AO DISTRITO OESTE!¡± with multiple captions underneath it, all in separate languages.

    Like the road sign, ¡°WELCOME TO OESTE DISTRICT!¡± was the third line of text from the top.

    Yeah, I noticed this place has a thing for Spanish...or is it Portuguese? I ain''t totally sure. Sure ain''t English or Italian, that''s for damn sure.

    For the first two days in the city, Leroy encountered little to no troubles. Some of the city folk were a little rude, sure, but it never did any real harm to the child. The only time a comment hurt his feelings was when some guy shouted ¡°Ay! Get back in the fire to finish that burn job, you goddamn ape!¡± at him from across the street. Still, words were only words. Otherwise, the city folk were friendly to the small child. Whenever he got hungry, the elderly owner of some small, humble bakery gave him a loaf of bread completely free of charge. The boy was sure to make the food last. Whenever he got tired, he slept in dirty alleyways for both nights¡ªusing some old newspapers as a blanket.

    Then, on the third day, things took an unexpected turn for Leroy.

    It was around two in the afternoon when the boy was relieving himself in an empty alleyway. He had tried to hold it until he got to a place with a public restroom, but young children aren''t exactly known for having the strongest bladders. The falling rain around him did him no favors, either. So he ended up rushing into the space between two tall apartment complexes. His mother had always told him that it was rude to go pee-pee when other people were watching, so he made sure he was completely alone before pulling his pants down.

    Unfortunately for the small child, somebody was there.

    A familiar face, at that.

    More specifically, a familiar face pointing a gun to the back of his head.

    Oh boy, talk about d¨¦j¨¤ vu...

    ¡­

    The Frenchman turned the safety off, butting the barrel against the dark-skinned child''s head. ¡°Well well. What do we ''ave ''ere?¡± Leroy stiffened in fear. He recognized the voice immediately. How couldn''t he? This man had murdered his Mama and Papa.

    ¡°It''s rude to desecrate public property, you know.¡± The boy then felt cold metal pressing up against his right butt-cheek. ¡°And indecent exposure, too?¡± The gangster made some strange clicking noise with his tongue. ¡°Ze nerve of filthy Americans! Even ze children!¡±

    C''mon kid, you ain''t like fuckin'' Jacob Summers; you got superpowers. Take this French pussy out!

    ...

    Leroy froze.

    But this time not in fear.

    ¡°W...what''s a ¡°French pussy¡±?¡±

    The gangster gritted his teeth, growling loudly.

    Wait a minute¡ªwhat?! You can hear me?!

    The boy nodded.

    C-Can you see me, kid?!

    The boy shook his head.

    ¡°''ow dare you speak zat way to me, you vile pig!¡±

    It''s rainin'', kid. Do somethin'' fast or this cat will ice your ass!

    Leroy didn''t know where this strange voice was coming from, but it did have a very good point.

    It was raining.

    Leroy closed his eyes, focusing hard on anything and everything that was water.

    Just as the gangster was about to pull the trigger, Leroy''s urine stream suddenly lifted up over the boy''s head and hit his attacker in the face.

    Um. Well. I guess that works, too.

    The blow stalled the Frenchman long enough for Leroy to zip up and retreat to the street.

    As soon as the gangster saw where he''d gone, he ran after him.

    The child closed his eyes again and held his arms out, feeling the raindrops pelt his palms.

    ¡°Time to die, you filthy¡ª¡±

    Before his attacker could finish that thought, the raindrops falling from the sky suddenly stopped mid-motion.

    After a minute, they began forming into an army of water spikes.

    Alright! Way to go, kid!

    The gangster had no time to spare before the drops shot at him, stabbing him all over his body.

    It didn''t take long for the man to die in the open street.

    Leroy stared at the body before him.

    He''d done it.

    He''d avenged his mother and father.

    But now he had two objectives in Casa do Dia?o.

    Find the white mare and the man with the funny voice talking in his head.

    Hey! Doan you be shittin'' on my accent now. I saved your life, you know!

    The boy smiled big.

    Indeed, both of them had saved him now.

    Now he had to repay the favor.

    And so he was off, continuing his quest.

    You know I''m right beside you, right? Hello?

    ¡­

    Not long after the Frenchman''s death, Leroy was found by two women strolling the park. One was a light-skinned Irish lass by the name of Karen. The other one was named Marian. She had dark skin, though not as dark as Leroy''s. The two women owned their own cottage up north, in the heart of Norte District. They were young, in love, and willing to take the boy in as their own. Of course, he wasn''t going to turn down an offer like that. After all, it got him away from the dreaded city. Thus Leroy became Leroy Barris.

    His new parents didn''t trust the school system very much in Casa do Dia?o, so they opted to home-school him along with their other four adopted children: Nigel, Hugo, Liam, and Marie. Leroy did exceptionally well in his studies, though he struggled with Science. It wasn''t that the subject matter was hard for him to understand¡ªoh no. It was because it was painfully boring; especially when learning about physics.

    Facts.

    As the years passed, Leroy eventually learned that the gangster he killed was a man by the name of Louis Couture. Louis, as his surname suggested, worked as a tailor in Caen before coming to Casa do Dia?o. He had aspirations relating to politics, hoping to extort his way into some office and, ultimately, become the Supreme Ruler of the world. Considering that a little boy was the one who done him in, it was quite clear that his dreams were not meant to be.

    Again, facts.

    It wasn''t until he was ten years old when he started learning about the old Gods and Goddesses of various cultures. Sure, the Greek pantheon was fascinating enough and the Egyptians had some interesting Gods and Goddesses, as well. Marian had even told Leroy all about Wakan Tanka, aka The Great Spirit. Her people believed that every person, object, and animal had a spirit within it¡ªa spirit worth respecting and nourishing. Karen, on the other hand, shared a very similar belief system to Marian. The only difference was that while Marian only believed in one great spirit, Karen believed in several.

    This discussion led to Leroy learning all about the Great Mother, Danu.

    Scholars didn''t know much about her, though it was universally understood that she was the mother of the Tuatha D¨¦ Danann, otherwise known as the other gods found in Irish mythology. The Celtics all believed her to be a kind, loving Goddess. She gave life to the gods and, in essence, gave life to the mere mortals on Earth, as well. They also believed that she sometimes walked amongst others in the land of the living.

    Sometimes she was a seagull.

    Other times she was a snake.

    But her favorite form was that of a majestic, white mare.

    Hmm.

    Upon hearing this, Leroy''s eyes lit up and a believer was born. From that point onward, he made it a point to spend one day out of every week alone in the forest by the cottage. During this time, he''d mediate, seeing if he could summon the Great White Mare. Sure enough, she always came, in all her glory. She offered him guidance, provided insight, and listened to him. Leroy was blessed to know that the Great Mother Goddess Danu had his back and he ferociously fought to defend her name any time somebody mocked the ways of nature.

    ...

    With time, the fearful boy grew into a strong, yet gentle man.

    Wait¡­

    Most women looked at him like he was good-looking.

    Your face looks awfully familiar¡­

    But he never approached any of them. It wasn''t that he didn''t like them, of course. He thought they were all pretty enough; he just didn''t know how to approach them. What would he say to them? What if what he had to say wasn''t interesting enough? What if it was too interesting and led to things he wasn''t quite ready for yet?

    Besides, Leroy harbored some rather controversial views on certain things. He never considered himself partial to many strong stances on issues. In Casa do Dia?o, one was either very much for something or very much against. There was no such thing as indifferent.

    Did Leroy think murder was evil? Sometimes, but it saved his life as a child...so he couldn''t be entirely against it. Did Leroy think violence in general was bad? Yes, but it was sometimes necessary. Should the world run off of anarchy, or have one or more leaders calling the shots? Trick question; nobody would survive in a lawless world, but at the same time, nobody was ever satisfied with rules.

    That was why Casa do Dia?o was such a chaotic place to live. Her name roughly translated to ¡°House of the Devil¡±¡ªa fitting name, indeed. In the Devil''s house, order had existed for a time...but eventually dissipated altogether when nobody could figure out how to fix the problems plaguing the island. When rules were enforced, rebellions broke out. When nothing was enforced, rebellions broke out. The reality of it all was that nobody was truly capable of compromise; it had to be their way or the highway. After all, this was where hopeless dreamers became ruthless players ready and eager to ante up in the bloodiest poker match of all time.

    She was the universe''s most voluptuous, yet venomous secret.

    Also, most people in Casa do Dia?o were practicing Christians while Leroy was not. And the reason for that was because, despite all of the years, he never forgot the two promises he had made to himself as a child. While he had managed to fulfill one, there was still one more that he hadn''t. There was never a day where Leroy didn''t think of the man who saved him fifteen years ago. Who was he? Why did he save him? Why hadn''t Leroy been able to hear him since that day?

    I''m just as confused as you are, buddy.

    After enlightening himself on the inner workings of Casa do Dia?o, Leroy had began to question whether or not this man was even on the island. After all, she was an exclusive island hidden so far away from the grasp of a rational reality that people often debated on whether it was an alternate dimension they were living in or another planet altogether. The vast majority of her citizens were foreigners who received a special invitation from some supernatural being.

    So on that faithful day of December 18<sup>th</sup>, 1989, Leroy decided to consult his old friend, Danu.

    ¡­no.

    She arrived before him as usual.

    You ain''t¡­

    The man didn''t have to say anything before the horse whinnied.

    ¡°The man you seek is closer than you think.¡±

    Oh my fuckin''¡ª

    Then, just like that, a red portal materialized before the young man.

    Are you serious right now?!

    In the portal, he spotted a young couple.

    The woman stared at Leroy with terrified eyes.

    Leroy felt sorry for the man, as this portal had appeared to have formed from out of his own mouth.

    He would promise to make it up to him later.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Okay, so I know why you want me to find you.

    I get it.

    But where am I gonna find you?

    Norte District?

    Oeste District?

    Sur District?

    Where are you, Leroy Barris?

 Chapter Twelve: A Heart-Shaped Wasteland

    Where are you, Leroy Barris?

    ¡­

    You hear people say it all the time. ¡°Fuck this shit, man; I''m out. Imma ditch this joint and start fresh somewhere far away from here.¡± These dopes think they got everything figured out, you know? They think they got the guap, smarts, and luck to be able to commit metaphorical suicide with the hopes of being ¡°reborn¡± within a new community. It''s all a simple gig, ain''t it? Just fake your own death or some shit, change your name, change the way you look, and drive very far away. Running away is a piece of cake, right?

    No, it fucking ain''t.

    I wasn''t bathing in cheddar when I left Brooklyn; I only had enough to get by. When I didn''t have the cash, I found some. And even though I''m a pretty brilliant guy, my smarts ain''t the only reason I was able to make it to Casa do Dia?o without the police catching me. Despite all of the safety precautions I took during my time on the run, there was always the possibility that the goddamn FBI would kick down the door to my hotel room. Any well thought out plan can be blown to smithereens¡ªnever forget that. The advantage that I had in this scenario was that I didn''t have a plan. I pulled all this bullshit right outta my ass and followed my gut.

    That''s right, folks.

    I used the power of dumb luck.

    But guess what?

    It fucking worked.

    That overly anal pansy at work that tells you life without organization would be nothing but chaotic madness? He''s right, but he''s a fucking putz for assuming that chaotic madness is a bad thing. Carefully planned actions are predictable and can always be countered by somebody smarter than you. Madness, however? Nobody can predict that shit¡ªnot even loonies themselves. It clearly works better than the so-called ¡°proven methods¡±. After all, it saved my crazy ass from getting thrown behind bars again.

    So yeah, I can say I did it. I successfully disappeared off the face of the Earth. After avoiding Rikers all those years ago, I was able to once again get away with murder. I thought I was gonna be alone in this, but I was pleasantly mistaken. Instead of snubbing me, this time Heidi was supporting me as I escaped my old, pointless life. New York was officially one giant bridge that I considered thoroughly burned. This was all fine and dandy, but there was now a huge question that needed answering.

    Now that I made it to Casa do Dia?o...what the hell was I supposed to do now?

    ...

    On one hand, the tall naked chick that invited Dave said Casa do Dia?o was a place where only the overly ambitious thrived. Did I consider myself ¡°overly ambitious¡±? Well...yes and no. As I''ve said before, I''m very much a perfectionist when it comes to tasks that I have some modicum of interest in. I ain''t some louse that half-asses his work...well, his important work, anyway. High School homework hardly classifies as an important task, in my opinion. I mean, how is fucking algebra ever gonna benefit me in the future? As long as you can add, subtract, multiply, and divide, you''re golden; no need to turn equations into fucking haikus.

    On the other hand, if you also remember me saying, I ain''t got the slightest clue of what I see myself doing in five years. Two different futures were each tugging on an arm¡ªbut which one was gonna get Genghis'' whole being as opposed to just his severed arm? Sometimes I feel that Heidi is right about me and that I oughta shape up. Get a job, find Jesus, get involved with the community, make amends for all the bad things I''ve done¡ªyou know, all that square shit that only the main character of some cheesy, straight-to-VHS Christian movie would do.

    But most of the time, I say fuck what Heidi thinks. She only feels the way she does because that''s what religion has been shoving down her throat for all these years. If she could get away from that, follow me, and maybe even try a little taste of my lifestyle...perhaps she could potentially be my new partner in crime; the Bonnie to my Clyde. Hell, even if she didn''t want to be directly involved in crime, she could still help me behind the scenes. Maybe keep an eye on the riches I rob or maybe even help me clean my guns. That seems like the best way to go, right? It would make the most sense for a homicidal prick such as myself.

    And the fact that there were no cops here?

    I could do whatever the hell I wanted!

    I could steal as much shit as I wanted.

    I could kill the entire population of Casa do Dia?o if I wanted to.

    Imagine the power surging through my veins!

    All that blood¡ªoh sweet baby Jesus¡ªthe blood I could taste!

    Who the fuck wouldn''t take advantage of a golden opportunity like this?! But would Heidi even be willing to try something new? Knowing her, it was highly doubtful. I mean, well...well you know she...but what if¡ªno...but then there''s the...ugh. You see, my thoughts race so often that my aspirations never truly remain the same. I suppose it''s supposed to be like that when you''re only twenty years old. But I couldn''t let age dictate that sorta thing for me right now, goddammit.

    I was in a new place that was far more dangerous than the United States of America could ever be.

    The NYPD probably had the Feds conducting a nationwide manhunt for me, so going home was completely outta the question.

    I was with Heidi, aka a person who don''t know the first thing about self-defense.

    And to top it all off, she was carrying my unborn child.

    I needed to figure something out fast.

    ¡­

    As soon as the Princess Moura docked, we changed into some warmer clothes. Thankfully, I''d already mostly gotten dressed before we arrived, so all I needed was a jacket, some socks, and my shoes. Heidi had been feeling sluggish all day, so she didn''t even bother to change outta her pajamas; instead just pulling a sweater over her red tank top and slipping her small feet into her white tennis shoes. Neither of us had any gloves, which gave me a strong sense of dread. Here''s hoping a hotel was very close by.

    ¡°What were you lookin'' at out there?¡± Heidi asked as I was tying my black Converse shoes. I shrugged, not telling her about the fucked up gang fight that had just transpired moments prior. I didn''t need her nagging me over any dead bodies. I could just see it now; ¡°Genghis! This place is too dangerous to raise a baby! We gotta somehow turn this ship around and go home!¡± Yes Heidi, let''s do that. I eagerly await the stinging chill of metal handcuffs fastened around my wrists once we return to the states. After all, this child don''t really need a father in his/her life, right?

    ¡°Just gettin'' a good look at our new home was all,¡± I said, looking up again to examine the snowfall. The pace had sped up, now resembling a hard snow shower. At this rate, the snow would completely cover up the bodies of the abnormally-gifted gangsters by the dock. I smiled, crossing the imaginary fingers inside my head. ¡°This is a new opportunity for us both, babygirl. No more New York, no more US Government, no more Dad and Roy, no more Paul...our records are completely clean here. We''re free to live happily and comfortably.¡± I finished tying my laces and looked over at her. ¡°Ain''t it excitin''?¡±

    She crossed her arms with a slight shiver, face looking unsure of whether her anticipation was the good kind or the bad kind. ¡°But...what about the crazy shit that''s been happenin''? What if there''s giant snakes all over the city?¡± I got off the bed and picked up my backpack, sliding my arms through both of the straps. ¡°Then we adopt one so no creepy mermen come to our doorstep.¡± I looked over at her and grinned. ¡°We''ll call him Boris and feed him a healthy diet consistin'' of vegetables, fish, and would-be burglars.¡± Heidi couldn''t help but giggle as she walked in front of me, wrapping her arms around me.

    ¡°Can we just settle for a dog? I don''t think a snake would be the best pet to have around a baby. Besides, I ain''t got the slightest clue how to care for a reptile.¡±

    I chuckled, planting a quick kiss on her lips.

    ¡°Only if it''s a big dog, like a German Shepherd or somethin''. I ain''t gonna let some little ankle-biter like a fuckin'' Chihuahua in my house.¡±

    She giggled again and let go of me.

    ¡°It''s a deal, tough guy. Now, let''s get off this ship¡ªaway from the violent guard-snake.¡±

    I nodded and picked up a bag while she grabbed the other.

    ¡°Let''s go begin our new life.¡±

    I held her hand and walked her to the deck of the ship. It turned out that the snow wasn''t the only thing that picked up. The heavy wind hit our skin like a goddamn train. ¡°Christ!¡± I shouted, grips on both the bag and Heidi tightening. Five seconds outside and I already felt my teeth chattering. C''mon, Genghis¡ªtoughen up! You gotta get you and Heidi somewhere warm and fast. Just tell yourself that feeling cold is an emotion that can easily be shut out and ignored.

    Cold is only an emotion.

    Cold is only an emotion.

    ¡°C''mon!¡± I commanded, leading us down the ramp. Our guard-snake had returned to its place on the bow, watching us quietly. Heidi couldn''t take her eyes off the reptile, so I had to kinda yank her a couple of times to get her to keep up with me. Upon getting to the dock, I looked up and sighed with relief. My prayers were heard and the gangster corpses were mostly hidden by snow. I say mostly because Mr. Flighty-Shockhands'' wings were still visible over the snow. But were they visible enough for Heidi to notice them?

    Yes.

    Yes they were.

    ¡°Genghis! What kinda creature you s''pose those belong to?!¡± Heidi shouted over the wind.

    Easy, it''s a bird.

    A large, finely dressed, freshly deceased bird.

    ¡°I dunno! Maybe a vulture or somethin''!¡± I shouted back, trying to lead us to one of the snowmobiles that had slid down the hill after its driver had abandoned it in favor of taking a more aerial approach to his battles. ¡°Vulture?! Those wings are way too big!¡± I growled, partially from Heidi''s questioning and partially from the weather. ¡°Fuck if I know, Heidi! Do I look like some kinda bird expert to you?!¡±

    We both gasped when we stepped off the dock. That fucking snow came up past my knees, you guys. With Heidi being a few inches shorter than me, the snow was nearly up to her ass. All hopes we had of running to the snowmobile were long gone. I couldn''t remember the last time we had snow that deep in Brooklyn!

    Cold is only an emotion.

    Ignore the blocks of ice that were once your hands.

    Ignore the hint of a runny nose beginning to form.

    Ignore the numbness in your face.

    Cold is only an emotion.

    ¡°Don''t let me go, Genghis! Please! The snow is too deep!¡± Heidi shouted. I squinted through the snowfall to get a better look at the vehicle. ¡°I promise I won''t, alright?!¡± I responded after a moment.

    The snowmobile we were approaching was one of the blue and black ones. Interestingly enough, the snow had packed around the vehicle as opposed to on top of it. My guess? These dumbasses had been running these babies for miles in the midst of some huge gang war. The result? A burning hot motor that melted any and all snow that tried to dress it. On one hand, this could be a problem if the stupid bastard accidentally overheated the damn thing. On the other hand, though, the much needed heat may possibly make me and Heidi orgasm simultaneously upon sitting on it.

    As we finally made it close enough, we heard it; the steady hum of the motor. The idiot forgot to turn the damn thing off. I bent down to read the gauges on the mini-dash. Temperature only halfway; not in the red danger range. Still plenty of fuel. No flashing lights. Hallu-fucking-juah.

    ¡°Genghis, it''s still runnin''! It belongs to someone!¡±

    I groaned loudly.

    I love Heidi¡ªI really do.

    But Christ-almighty I wanted to wring her neck sometimes.

    ¡°So what?! Doan you wanna be warm?! ''Cuz I dunno ''bout you, but I''m freezin'' my nuts off out here!¡±

    ¡°But that''s stealin''! We came here to get away from that lifestyle, remember?!¡±

    I said I wanted a new life, babygirl.

    That don''t mean that I ain''t gonna still be a lowlife.

    ¡°Goddammit Heidi, we''re gonna die from fuckin'' hypothermia if we doan get outta here soon!¡±

    ¡°But Gengh¡ª¡±

    ¡°Think about the baby, Heidi! Doan you wanna be a mom one day?! ''Cuz I sure wanna be a dad! I doan want our kid to die before they''re even born! We can''t affawd to be selfless right now!¡±

    Silence. Not a peep other than the hum of the motor and the howl of the wind. Not willing to waste another minute, I let go of her hand and placed the bag in the back, wrapping the straps around the metal trunk-bar so it wouldn''t fly off. She didn''t protest to me doing this, which told me I had won this argument. If TV told me anything growing up, it was that women love to play the ¡°baby¡± card. Having a disagreement with your man? Remind him that you''re pregnant with his baby¡ªevery chance you can get, if possible. It''s supposed to instantly trump any argument he could possibly bring to the table. Well honey, I think I''ve just proven that us guys can play that very same card all day long.

    She handed me her bag and I made quick work of fastening it to the trunk-bar. ¡°Lemme get on first! You get behind me and wrap your arms ''round me!¡± I took my backpack off and handed it to her. ¡°Wear this! It ain''t too heavy, I promise!¡± She nodded and took my bag, though the look she gave me made it perfectly clear that this wasn''t her first choice. ¡°You even know how to drive this thing?!¡± I threw my left leg over the vehicle and took a seat. ¡°You underestimate me way too much, sweetheart! Would it kill you to trust me once in a while?!¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Genghis-to-English translation: I ain''t got the slightest clue to how operate this thing.

    ¡°Just get on and keep your head down!¡± She did as she was told and climbed aboard, hugging me from behind. My hands grabbed the handlebars and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head. Either the goon that drove this thing had really warm hands, or this snowmobile had heated grips. Do all snowmobiles have that? I''m askin'' you here; I ain''t ever had to drive one of these things before! Either way, my hands were enjoying a nice vacation in Cancun while the rest of my body was freezing in Antarctica.

    ¡°Here goes nothin'',¡± I uttered under my breath. I clamped the lever on the left side. Nothing happened. So I squeezed the right side. ¡°Doan you be fuckin'' bro¡ª¡±

    My threat was interrupted immediately as we were sent flying through the deep snow. For how fast this fucker ran, you''d think I was driving a dirt bike on dry land. It felt like the Princess Moura all over again, which is probably a major exaggeration. But you get the point; the snow had no hold on this thing.

    ¡°Genghis!¡± Heidi screamed hysterically as snow slung hard against my upper half. Not willing to risk flying into the ocean, I quickly attempted to turn the sonuvabitch around. The motor revved loudly once I jerked the handlebars. ¡°Oh no you doan!¡± I shouted, fearing an imminent blow out. My other hand accidentally squeezed the left lever again, which caused us to spin out. However, it wasn''t too bad of a spin-out; the first spin was fast, but the next slowed down and slid us over a bit. The good news was that it got us pointing in the right direction. We didn''t tip over nor did we die. So I call that a success.

    ¡°Well, I think I found the goddamn brakes!¡± I shouted.

    Heidi shivered behind my back; a combination of cold and fear, certainly.

    ¡°Good! Now get us the hell outta this weather before your drivin'' makes me piss myself!¡±

    I heard the lady loud and clear.

    My hand squeezed the throttle again and we were off to the city.

    ¡­

    The road signs called it ¡°Oeste District¡±¡ªor at least the English portion of the sign did. Down below, flashy dives blinded drivers with what I could only guess was their advertisements for either Karaoke Weekend or ¡°Barely Legal¡± Night at one of the two dozen strip clubs. High above, skyscrapers mingled with each other during their never ending corporate ball. Granted, none of them look really well-kept. You know how some people get paid a couple bucks to wash the windows on big buildings once a week or so? Yeah, that clearly ain''t a thing in Casa do Dia?o.

    The land of Manifest Destiny, I guess.

    People are so wrapped up in their own ambitions that they''re above menial tasks such as cleaning the grime off their skyscrapers.

    Too many chiefs and not enough Indians.

    Everybody wants to rule the world.

    Tears for Fears was right.

    The heavy snowfall had attacked the big city as well. I didn''t see a single car on the road and everybody seemed to be indoors where it was warm¡ªwell, almost everyone. These strangely feminine looking ice sculptures were strutting around on the sidewalk, swinging their hips like they were waiting for some Eskimo fucks to plow them with their harpoons. After slowing down to get a better look, I came to the realization that these ice ladies didn''t have any clothes carved into them. A couple of them noticed us cruising by and tried to wave us over. ¡°Gei¨¢ sou! E¨ªste dyo ps¨¢chnete gia k¨¢poia epipl¨¦on etaire¨ªa?¡± they each called out in soft, sultry tones. Me and Heidi, dumbfounded by the sight, sped off away from them without a single word.

    It was like if New York City and Las Vegas took a shitload of California sunshine together, engaged in some particularly raunchy fucking, and then popped out a new city with some neurological issues nine months later. In fact, this place reminded me a lot of the kooky conspiracy theorists that never shut up about the Bermuda Triangle. Admittedly, the mere existence of this island made me question some things. Perhaps all those people that went missing actually ended up here as opposed to some other bullshit locations like Atlantis, Hell, or the Milky Way. Perhaps wrapping tinfoil around my noggin would give me more clarity on the subject.

    Despite it being sometime in the afternoon, the sky was dark enough for business owners to show off their Christmas lights. Which only served to remind me that the 25th was only a few days away and the only gifts I''d given Heidi was frostbite and a fertilized egg. There was one obvious gift I could give her, but I didn''t have the money or time to acquire it. Of course, I could always bullshit my way outta buying her anything at all by using the weather as an excuse. Maybe I could repay her by giving her something nice and free, like a full body massage or a foot rub. Heidi can never say no to some honest pampering.

    We eventually stopped in front of a tall building labeled ¡°Hotel de Diamantes¡±. It was only a few letters off from being perfect Italian, though I''m sure it was intentionally supposed to be some other European language. In Italian, the translation would''ve been something along the lines of ¡°Diamond Hotel¡± or ¡°Hotel of Diamonds¡±. Heidi was wowed by the unique look of the building, but I gave approximately zero shits that this joint was made of diamond. All I cared about was the ¡°Hotel¡± part in ¡°Hotel de Diamantes¡±.

    Other than resembling a high-dollar ice box, the interior of the hotel wasn''t very impressive to me. Of course, my opinion didn''t matter when the woman accompanying me was hopelessly dazzled by the fancy paintings hanging all over the lobby. ¡°Look, Genghis! You think these are originals? Dey look like dey were painted back in the Renaissance or somethin''. Do you think the same artist that made them also had a hand in designin'' this hotel?¡± I grunted nonchalantly, rubbing my runny nose with my jacket sleeve.

    At least the hotel had central heating.

    The desk clerk came running toward us after a few minutes of looking around. He looked about my old man''s age with Roy''s pretty boy face. His blonde hair was so long that it barely kissed the diamond floor. He was a scrawny motherfucker, but his snazzy grey and periwinkle suit made up for his lack of brawn. He even donned a pair of purple heart-shaped glasses with pink lens. I couldn''t tell if this guy moonlighted as an entertainer during the evenings, or if he was just incredibly gay.

    ¡°Hello there!¡± he said cheerfully with a distinctly British accent. He held his right hand out. ¡°My name is Alexander Porter. How may I assist you lovely couple on this dreadfully frigid day?¡± Heidi smiled wide and shook his hand. ¡°Nice to meet you, Alexander. Me and my...umm...¡± I gave her a look. Even though she was having my baby, Heidi still apparently felt awkward about introducing me to others as her man. Though I guess I couldn''t blame her; her and Paul''s five year relationship had only been over for nearly a week. She was still getting used to whatever our relationship had become. So I guess I couldn''t be too angry with her.

    ¡°Husband?¡± the Brit guessed, giving the both of us a toothy grin. Heidi giggled, shaking her head with the hint of a blush forming in her cheeks. ¡°We ain''t married, mister.¡± I put an arm around her waist and pulled her close. ¡°Yet,¡± I said with a wink. Heidi''s face became bright pink. Sure, I''d marry her; in a heartbeat, I would. Maybe as soon as I can afford a proper engagment ring. Or at least find a good jeweler who didn''t pay for a top of the line security system.

    ¡°We actually just got here to Casa do Dia?o, ¡°I mentioned casually, ¡°Doan gotta place to stay or¡ª¡±

    The desk clerk''s face lit up.

    ¡°How adorable! You''re new here!¡±

    He motioned for us to follow him.

    ¡°This way, please! On us!¡±

    Me and Heidi looked at each other, baffled.

    A free stay just for being outsiders?

    I was gonna like this Hotel of Diamonds after all.

    ...

    And this, ladies and gentlemen, was only the beginning.

    I risked a lot to come to Casa do Dia?o.

    I wasn''t about to squander it all by being a lazy asshole.

    The only move I knew to make at this point was to further investigate the red douchebag''s message from the ship.

    Why did he want me to find him?

    Why the ever loving shit did he burn his thumb into my arm?

    The sonuvabitch gave me nothing to go on.

    My immediate assumption was that Zombie Bastard would probably give me some kinda vague hint through a dream or something.

    Though, considering the last time I waited for an explanation, I assumed that I was gonna be waiting for a while.

    Thankfully, I was wrong.

    ...

    So our boy Alexander cut us a pretty sweet deal. He said that most people that came to Casa do Dia?o had no other place to stay for at least the first month. With that fact plus the mad blizzard going on outside, he told me and Heidi that we could stay for a grand total of two months without being charged any money. However, any longer of a stay would result in us forking over some cash. We took the deal; it was something and something was better than nothing at this point.

    So we made it to our room, enjoyed some dinner, and called it an early night.

    Christmas Eve was fairly uneventful...well, for the most part, anyway.

    It had been a slow day. Nausea and lethargy was fucking with Heidi big time, so I offered to have a movie marathon with her. She agreed to the idea and we spent the entirety of the day in each others'' arms. I don''t mind telling you that it was fucking nice while it lasted. Of course, the inevitable bout of seemingly nonstop vomitting eventually came during the final showdown in Predator. While she was busy dealing with that, I paused the movie and took the opportunity to head down to the lobby for a quick smoke break.

    As soon as I lit up my cigarette just outside the hotel entrance, a sound hit my ears. ¡°Mew...¡± It was a quiet sound, but loud enough for me to notice it. In any case, I tried to ignore it. Then the sound came again, though a little louder this time. ¡°Mew!¡± After about two more times of this sound, I started looking around for the source.

    Then I saw him.

    A little black kitten trying his damndest to climb outta the snow hole he''d been trapped in.

    Admittedly, the sight made me feel a little heavy-hearted.

    Don''t you DARE start giving me shit here.

    I may have a psychopathic viewpoint on human life, but animals are different.

    Let me explain before you start calling me a ¡°softie¡±.

    Humans are always so quick to deny their vile, brutal true nature. They''re so adamant that people view them as good, upstanding citizens despite the fact that their own hands ain''t exactly clean. I know this because, truthfully, every human being on the planet hates each other. It''s true and you know it.

    We''re an entire species made up of angry, shallow cowards. Serial killers are viewed as ¡°monsters¡±, but there''s a massive fucking elephant in the room that nobody is willing to address. These guys and girls that actually got the balls to go out and kill people? They''re only doing what''s natural for our race. Our ancestors did it all the time. They fought over food, shelter, fuck-mates, their spot by the warm campfire¡ªeverything! Nobody batted an eye because¡ªguess what¡ªeverybody was doing it. When did we decide that killing was bad? Call murder ¡°uncivilized¡± all your little heart wants, but when you don''t kill, you get over-population. When you get over-population, you get disease and famine. When you get disease and famine, you see the extinction of your entire race.

    The world needs psychos.

    But nobody wants to own up to their homicidal tendencies.

    They''d rather hide behind pretty masks.

    At least animals are upfront about being selfish, violent pricks.

    That alone makes me respect them a whole helluva lot more than most people.

    So needless to say, I already felt more sorry for this little guy than I did for any of the worthless assholes I killed and/or injured to get to where I was at that moment. My guess was that the snowstorm killed his mom and now he was all by himself. He looked like he was barely past the stage of sucking on his mom''s teat¡ªthere ain''t no way this little fella would make it in this weather. I sighed, dabbed my barely smoked cigarette into the building, and headed out into the snow to save this creature.

    Yeah, you read that right.

    Genghis Boy took time outta his day to save a little baby kitten from certain death.

    Get all that laughter outta your systems, you fucking jerk-offs.

    ¡°Easy, guy,¡± I said in a gentle voice as I scooped the feline outta the snow. He let out another strong ¡°mew¡± at the contact, but he didn''t try to wiggle outta my hands. I lifted him up and held him up to my face so I could examine him. He looked at me with big, pumpkin orange eyes. His coat was completely black with no markings of any kind. After a moment, I lifted him a little higher to make sure I was being accurate in referring to him as ¡°he¡±; I was.

    ¡°Where''s your mom, buddy?¡± I said, still speaking in a comforting tone of voice.

    He looked at me, not making a sound.

    ¡°Why''re you out in the brick weather? You''ll get sick, you know.¡±

    Still silent.

    ¡°Here,¡± I continued, lowering him so my left arm could cradle him, ¡°maybe Alexander has somethin'' for you to chow on.¡±

    He almost instantly started purring against my forearm as I started to walk us back into the hotel lobby.

    However, before I could make it inside, he climbed up my chest and batted my cheek with his tiny paw.

    It didn''t hurt; I swear it didn''t.

    But yet I still felt dizzy, like the other two times Zombie Bastard had given me weird daydreams.

    I put the cat down on the ground and barely made it indoors before I passed out.

    ...

    That was when I saw the story of Leroy Barris unfold before me. What were my thoughts coming out of this hallucination? Simple; this meeting was going to be incredibly awkward. He knew of my existence for most of his life while I only found out about him nearly a week ago. How was I supposed to respond to him if he brought this shit up?

    ¡°I''ve waited for you for a long time now, Genghis Boy.¡±

    ¡°Neat.¡±

    I needed this guy on my team, dammit! If I was gonna make it in Casa do Dia?o, I needed a partner in crime. Somebody who knew the land better than I did¡ªsomebody who knew the lore better than I did. And so I woke up undisturbed at the entrance of the hotel. My furry friend was gone, so I returned to Heidi upstairs.

    The rest of the day drug on, much like Christmas day did. Alexander had arranged a special dinner for us, which was nice. Afterwords, we went back upstairs and I surprised Heidi with a rather sensual backrub. We weren''t sure if it was still safe for her to lay on her stomach, so I had her lie on her side while I worked. She seemed to enjoy it, though she was bummed about not getting to properly celebrate the holidays in the traditional sense.

    So while my fingers pressed themselves into her back, I made her a promise. ¡°Tomorrow mornin'', regardless of weather, I''m goin'' out and findin'' some work. I can''t promise I''ll find anythin'' first thing, but I will find somethin'' eventually. Before you know it, Christmas time will be here again. This time, we''ll have a nice cozy fire, a Christmas tree, some presents, and a little tyke playin'' with the hangin'' ball ornaments.¡± I inched closer to her and kissed her neck. ¡°And maybe we''ll have matchin¡¯ rings on our fingers.¡± My hands ran up and down her spine, making her moan softly. ¡°Genghis, will you marry me?¡± she asked in the midst of her pleasure. I chuckled, sneaking my hand inside her panties. ¡°Like you even need to ask.¡±

    And so Christmas ended with romance, passion, and promises.

    One for her and one for me.

    She''d get her dream house with the white picket fence.

    I''d get my feet wet in this heart-shaped wasteland or die trying.

    My first step was to find Leroy Barris.

    If I could do that, I could do anything in this sleazy cesspool known as Casa do Dia?o.

 Chapter Thirteen: The Phases of Khan

    The day was December 26<sup>th</sup>, 1989; the day after Christmas.

    I groaned and pushed the covers off my body the moment the bright sun made its appearance through our window. In the daytime, the sun''s rays reflected heavily off the hotel. This always ended up creating a shimmer effect that was beautiful to those outdoors...but painfully blinding to those indoors. It''s the easiest way of telling if a diamond is truly a diamond and not, say, cubic zirconia. While the latter can still reflect light, it ain''t nearly as bright as the real deal. Plus, light often did funky things to cubic zirconia¡ªlike form random ass rainbows. Alexander had told us early on that it was highly recommended that we kept the curtains closed while the sun was out, lest we lose our eyesight in just the first month of living in Casa do Dia?o. It certainly helped us maintain our vision while also keeping the room reasonably lit, but it was still bright enough to annoy you in the early morning.

    Seriously, I wanna meet the drooling retard that thought it was a good idea to build a hotel outta goddamn diamond.

    I wanna shake his hand and twist his wrist so hard that it snaps off his arm.

    Heidi fell asleep not too long after we were finished with our romantic romp the night before. And, judging by the light snoring, I''d say she slept like a baby throughout the entire night. I considered this a good thing. It meant that she believed me when I said that I''d find a way to provide for our new family. It would''ve been so easy for her to completely doubt everything I said. After all, I already broke the one major promise I made to her years ago. Whether her choosing to trust my word this time around was legitimate or more so an obligation to our kid was beyond me. All that mattered was that her mind was at ease, no pesky thoughts chipping away at her sanity as she tried to catch some much needed ZZZ''s.

    Unfortunately for me, my mind wasn''t at ease.

    Don''t get me wrong, it wasn''t because I lacked the confidence in myself to make these promises a reality. I told you before¡ªI''m a tough sonuvabitch. There ain''t many things I can''t do. And when I say I''m gonna do something, I do it and do it well. This ain''t me talking outta my ass, either. I know damn well just how capable I am of making dreams a reality.

    I guess when I say that my mind wasn''t at ease, I actually mean to say my mind was in ¡°work¡± mode when it should''ve been in ¡°rest¡± mode. Instead of closing my eyes and shutting down, my eyes remained wide open¡ªmind revved up like a race car. It was one of those times when the thoughts in my head didn''t have proper words to describe their nature, so my eyes began collecting external elements to help assist me during my mental press conference with myself. At that time, I chose to stare at the rough diamond ceiling of our hotel room.

    Did you know that diamond looked a lot like metal in the dark? You''d think that the easiest design to pull off regarding a diamond ceiling was just one flat, sculpted sheet with maybe the pointy end smack dab in the middle. But no, they decided to go with a sorta ¡°tiled¡± look in which a bunch of diamonds the size of my hand were rested together in horizontal rows all the way down. The result of this design choice? Silver stones forming a nearly black, burned texture in certain spots. It kinda resembled a collage of zinc nuggets all glued together. It produced a glitter effect if you turned your head a certain way so it looked like the moonlight was reflecting off of them.

    Dull, hardened metal wasting away in the dark; hidden from the outside world. Only once they see the light do they become beautiful gems. As gems, they gain the power to entice and/or eviscerate anyone they so choose. But honestly, this could be said about anything crafted outta some kind of expensive material. The human race is materialistic and selfish to its very core¡ªwe''re pigs that learned to stand on two legs. Our ability to comprehend rational thought often clashes with our inborn obsession with shiny objects. A diamond ceiling and a quartz necklace are one in the same to us. We are at the eternal mercy of these mineral gods.

    It''s almost poetic, in a way.

    I envied the power this poorly designed ceiling possessed.

    I wasn''t gonna rest until that power was mine.

    And Leroy Barris was the man that was gonna help me get the sleep I needed.

    Needless to say, the hours washed away like dirt in a storm. Once that sun came up, I was up and ready to begin this adventure once and for all. The room was a little chilly due to my lack of clothing, but the central heating made it manageable. I picked up a pair of black jeans, plaid boxers, white socks, and a black wife-beater before stepping into the bathroom.

    Despite it being around six in the morning, I moved like I was in a hurry. I tossed my clothes onto the floor and jumped into the shower. I wasted no time pondering the meaning of life or any other pointless shower-time philosophy¡ªjust focusing strictly on washing up so I could be outta there in five or ten minutes. It ain''t too hard if you know how to do it. Soak, lather, scrub, and rinse all in that order with no interruptions from that overly talkative brain of yours. Pissing in the shower don''t count as an interruption, though; you can do that while doing any of the other steps.

    Don''t judge me; you know you''ve done it, too.

    After stepping out and giving my whole body a quick dry job with a towel, I got dressed. Before leaving the bathroom, I stepped over to the mirror. My intense reflection stared back at me as I brushed my teeth and contemplated whether or not I should shave this morning. I decided against it; I still didn''t have much of a beard going and I needed whatever hair was on my face to keep me warm in the brick weather outside. Upon re-entering the bedroom, Heidi''s snoring hit my ears. My lips curled into a satisfied grin. ¡°Showtime,¡± I said aloud to nobody in particular.

    Myra was stuffed into my pants.

    The laces of my Converses were securely tied.

    The olive-green bomber jacket that Alexander handed me outta the hotel''s lost and found box was now on my back.

    My box of cigarettes, my lighter, and a couple .45 rounds were stuffed into my jacket pockets.

    Black, fingerless gloves from the same lost and found box went on my hands.

    My black aviators were shielding my eyes from the diamond-reflected sunbeams.

    I grabbed the keys to the snowmobile.

    After bending down to give Heidi one last kiss on the forehead, I was outta there.

    Once I was outside the hotel, it didn''t take too long for the now familiar brick breeze of a Casa do Dia?o winter to hit my mug. The snow wasn''t as deep as it had been a few days ago, but any regular vehicle would still struggle trying to navigate through it. Luckily, one quick glance over at the parking lot told me that nobody had jacked my jacked snowmobile.

    I was about three feet from my ride when I saw a familiar face popping his head up in the seat. It was a little head, covered in black fur. His large, orange eyes stared at me. I stopped right next to the snowmobile, crossing my arms.

    ¡°Beat it, pal. I ain''t got time for anymore daydreams.¡± The little black kitten let out a soft mew, now standing on his hind-legs. ¡°No. I got shit that needs to be done.¡± He tilted his head at me, trying to charm his way into my heart. ¡°What do you want? Food? Look, I ain''t got any food to give you, alright?¡± He just kept staring at me. Quickly losing my patience, I lifted him up and tossed him onto the ground. Like any cat would, he landed on his feet.

    I climbed aboard the snowmobile, pulling a cigarette as well as my lighter out of my pocket.

    After lighting up, I put the lighter back and inserted the key into the ignition.

    One swift turn and that baby was fired up and ready to go.

    I squeezed the throttle and away I was on my search for the black man posing as a red silhouette.

    ¡­

    My journey to find Leroy Barris felt like it lasted an eternity.

    The tedium of searching made me feel like I was on the run again.

    Granted, my search eventually ended.

    But not without a list of wild bullshit to come before then.

    ¡­

    As I roamed the streets on my snowmobile, I pieced together a mental blueprint of my search route for this man. Leroy was the first person I was ever able to communicate with through my freaky visions...and even then, he was four years old when he heard me. But this made no sense. The vision mentioned that he was four years old in the year 1974, which meant he was born in the year 1970¡ªjust one year after I was born. Meaning that around the time he heard my voice in his head, I, myself, would''ve only been five years old. And the day Leroy reached out to me on the Princess Moura was the same exact day that I received his message on said ship¡ªso no time lapse there. Meaning that Leroy, right now, was probably nineteen years old. But I didn''t talk to his four year old self until nearly a week after his nineteen year-old self did that whole...ugh.

    This shit made my head hurt.

    So I decided that the simplest path to take was to visit all of the places he visited in my vision.

    Which meant my first stop wasn''t too far from Hotel de Diamantes.

    Trailing along the frozen roads of Oeste District, I saw a couple of humanoid-looking lifeforms walking around in full winter gear. By the texture of their faces, I was surprised to see that these were normal people and not horny ice dames. Just how normal these cats were was a question I didn''t care nearly enough about to answer. I gathered most, if not all of them, were business owners by the way they pompously strutted around the small shop buildings. Some were ordering what appeared to be their teenage part-timers to shovel snow outta their portion of the street. However, most were ordering their teenage part-timers to take the Christmas lights off their roofs.

    Ah, the bittersweet end of the quote-on-quote ¡°most wonderful time of the year¡±; also known as the ¡°After Christmas Blues¡±. After preparing your house all month long for a one day holiday, the party soon ends and you''re now left with the grisly clean-up job. The kids got all their toys that a bunch of Chinese conveyor-belt monkeys shat out at the last second, ate all of their Hershey''s Kisses that you stuffed in their stockings just before waking them up, and spent at least two hours crying because of the one gift that Santa forgot to bring them. There ain''t anymore cheer in your heart; just disappointment and a crippling sense of emptiness. But not for me; my festive spirit no-showed for the special holiday, but boy did he make an entrance the next day! This was made very evident when I arrived to the infamous backstreet where Leroy''s parents were gunned down by French gangsters.

    ...

    The Great Khan, phase one.

    ...

    I killed the motor on the snowmobile and hopped off. My cigarette had been smoked down to the filter, so I tossed it onto the snow covered road. One thorough look around told me that the area hadn''t changed too much since 1974. All in all, I spotted three differences: snow was everywhere, the sun was out, and no dead bodies were oozing blood on the road. I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets and walked over to the alleyway.

    Yeah, the same one that horse came from.

    I closely examined the brick walls, looking for any kind of clue of an otherworldly portal. Hey, that horse had to come from somewhere, right? As much as these celestial beings loved materializing outta nothing, I continued to cling onto the hope that at least one of them required portals to get from place to place. After all, Leroy had to use a portal to communicate with me. If this ¡°Great Goddess Danu¡± cunt was really great, she would''ve just clopped her hoof and poof! One cynical Yankee bastard specially delivered to a Mr. Leroy Barris! Would''ve certainly saved both me and him the trouble, you know?

    I didn''t find any special markings, but I did hear a tune coming from inside the wall. No, it wasn''t creepy, cult chanting either. In fact, it sounded vaguely like the very end of some modern rock song. What the song was, I couldn''t tell; it quickly transitioned into another song not long after I put my ear against the wall. The new song appeared to be modern rock''n''roll as well, but it also had a kinda bluesy sound to it. Judging by the style of the guitar playing, I made the educated guess that it was Stevie Ray Vaughan.

    ¡°Well now tell me darlin'', may I have a talk with you?¡±

    Yerp, Stevie Ray Vaughan.

    Thanks for your taste in music, Roy.

    ¡°Woah¡ªtell me darlin'', may I have a talk with you?¡±

    Underneath the lyrics, I caught the somewhat audible sound of clinking glass.

    Bar; probably a real dive, too.

    ¡°Because it won''t be long before our true love will be through...¡±

    I stepped away from the wall and made the decision to check the joint out. Perhaps somebody inside could point me in the right direction? Though, it was hard to imagine why Leroy would wanna come back to this area after what happened to his folks. Maybe it was a symbolic sorta thing? Retrace his steps and get on his level in the most literal sense? Who the fuck even knows with this island?

    The name on the front-end of the building read ¡°Le Coq Enivr¨¦¡±. I didn''t know what that meant, but it looked French. Meaning this might''ve been Louis Couture''s old place before he got iced¡ªliterally. Hmm. Perhaps Leroy would have a reason to visit this shindig, after all. I stepped inside, instantly being met with the strong odor of spilled whiskey and cigarette smoke.

    ¡°I''m determined to know...little girl, you comin'' home...come on home, baby.¡±

    Stevie''s electric guitar wailed for all of the drunken patrons. I removed my aviators and clipped them to the neckline of my wife-beater. Once my eyesight adjusted to the lighting, I took a moment to see what I was gonna be dealing with today. Despite it being really early in the morning, there were already a bunch of low-lives drinking at the bar as well as a couple of tables off by the walls. On one hand, the bar scene was fairly clich¨¦ by American standards; bunch of bozos that looked around my old man''s age drowning their sorrows in happy juice. Whether it be over getting sacked at their job or their old lady giving them shit for breathing in the same room as them, these guys clearly had nothing to lose being in this shithole at such an early hour. Just a bunch of old, bitter men waiting to die with the rest of humanity.

    However, on the other hand, American bars typically don''t have ivory girls dancing around the lobby. Oh, you thought the naked ice broads was the end of that ordeal? No sir! There''s also statue gals that enjoy rubbing their hands all over their bodies. The only other difference with these girls was that they were wearing clothes¡ªgranted it was very little, but still clothes, nonetheless. Of course, all this did was make them look like clothing store mannequins brought to life by Dr. Frankenstein.

    To tell you the truth, I found them to be a little creepy.

    I dunno, man.

    I guess some guys get off to this sorta thing, maybe?

    I personally prefer women of the warm, fleshy variety.

    To each his own, I suppose.

    Stuffing my hands back into my jacket pockets, I made my way to the bar. A couple of eyeless ivory broads watched me as I passed them. One even attempted to tease me by tugging on the waistband of her red panties. I forced my eyes away from her, trying to focus on the scruffy, silver-haired bartender wiping his counter.

    ¡°Now now listen to me baby¡ª¡±

    I took a seat at the bar.

    ¡°¡ªwhile I hold your hand¡ª¡±

    Me and the bartender locked eyes.

    ¡°Don''t want anything from you but be your lovin'' man¡ªnow tell me darlin'', may I have a talk with you?¡±

    His eyebrows narrowed.

    He knew I wasn''t there for a drink.

    ¡°Because the words I have to tell you, they will linger through the years...I love you, honey.¡±

    </a>  Mr. Greybeard leaned over the counter. ¡°Bonjour. Est-ce que tu parles fran?ais?¡± I cocked an eyebrow at him. I understood what ¡°bonjour¡± and ¡°fran?ais¡± meant¡ªI even had an idea of what ¡°parles¡± meant since there was a similar word in Italian, but nothing else. However, that was enough to gather what he was asking me. ¡°I doan speak French, dude. Sawrry.¡± He made a confused grunting noise. ¡°Uh, um¡ªparli italiano?¡± I asked, hoping to find some kinda middle ground with this guy. He just tilted his head, not saying another word.

    That was just great.

    I didn''t speak his language and he didn''t speak mine.

    Fan-fucking-tastic.

    ¡°Look pal, I''m tryin'' to find somebody. Tall black guy with a kinda Irish soundin'' accent. Goes by the name ¡°Leroy¡±. I was wonderin'' if you¡ª¡± He crossed his arms, now grilling me slightly. He clearly didn''t have the patience to listen to some foreigner talk bullshit to him in a tongue he didn''t understand. I, myself, didn''t have the patience to explain something simple to this stupid asshole. At some point during this interaction, Stevie''s song ended and was replaced with the opening riff of some other rock song. ¡°Me,¡± I pointed to myself, ¡°Look. For. Man.¡± I held my hand up. ¡°Tall!¡± I pinched the flesh on the back of my hand. ¡°Skin!¡± I put my finger on the dark, wooden counter. ¡°THIS color!¡±

    The old bastard snorted. ¡°Commandez un verre et fermez la bouche.¡± I bit my lip, growling loudly. ¡°Escargot! Baguette! Hon hon hon¡ªI''ll fuck your hairy wife, you lousy soap-dodger!¡± I shouted after banging my fist against the counter. This outburst successfully pissed him off enough to grab a vodka bottle and bang it against the counter. ¡°Fils d¨¦go?tant d''une prostitu¨¦e!¡± The alcohol went flying all over the bar, bringing a wide grin to my face. The room went silent save for what I now recognized as ¡°Gypsy Road¡± playing on the jukebox. These drunks were sober enough to know what was about to go down.

    Finally, a language I can understand.

    As he held the broken bottle up to my face, I laughed wickedly. ¡°So you understand me when I''m bein'' racist, huh?¡± I whipped Myra out and pointed her at the bartender. ¡°Well then, you stupid cheese fucker, you might as well drop that bottle and back away from this fight. After all, givin'' up is all you Frenchies are good at.¡±

    ...

    He screamed and leaped over the counter, tackling me to the ground.

    And so the bar brawl was on¡ªeven with our own fight music...sorta.

    ¡°My gypsy road can''t take me home!¡±

    The angry Frenchman lifted the bottle up, ready to bash my brains in.

    ¡°I drive all night just to see the light!¡±

    I attempted to fire a point-blank shot at his face, but the cocksucker slashed my hand with that fucking bottle of his¡ªcutting right through the fabric on my glove.

    ¡°My gypsy road can''t take me home!¡±

    ¡°Argh! Sonuva¡ª¡± I growled, dropping the gun as my blood leaked from the wound.

    ¡°I keep on pushin'' ''cuz it feels...¡±

    Before he could land a blow on my face, I headbutted him hard.

    ¡°Alrighhhhhht!¡±

    He yelped and rolled offa me. I took the opportunity to grab my gun and return to my feet. As the song continued in the background, the old man lifted himself up to find me standing over him, pointing my .45 revolver right between his eyes. He growled loudly. ¡°Vous ¨ºtes un lache pour apporter une arme de poing ¨¤ une bagarre!¡± I cocked the gun. ¡°Fanculo il francese,¡± I said just before hawking a large wad of spit on his chest.

    You''re thinking I had the sonuvabitch beat at this point, right?

    You thought wrong, pal.

    Just as I was about to pull the trigger, the bartender started to shake¡ªI mean really shake, too. His face turned as purple as an eggplant, veins popping outta his forehead and neck. The second foam started spewing outta his mouth, I knew some serious bullshit was about to happen. I quickly got away from him as the entire front of his body just sorta burst with one fast, but excessively bloody explosion. While everyone else in the bar screamed in horror, my initial reaction was confusion. Of course, I nearly dropped Myra in shock once I found out why this had happened to this man. Once his life essence was done splattering the walls, his skeleton rose from outta his meat blanket.

    Yeah, really.

    His motherfucking skeleton.

    When I say ¡°skeleton¡±, I ain''t talking about the quote-on-quote ¡°spooky¡± kind that you dress up as for Halloween. I''m talking muscles still attached and vital organs visible to anyone with a pair of eyes. He let out this loud shriek that sounded like the mix between an eagle''s caw and a dragon''s mighty roar. The sorta-corpse then turned to face me, intestines drooping down below his pelvic region.

    Lemme tell you guys, I ain''t one to have a weak stomach when seeing shit like this. However, I''d be lying if I said I didn''t nearly throw up when looking at this walking freakazoid. I think it was the smell that did it for me. Imagine having a fish tank filled with piss, shit, bile, and vomit. Leave it sitting for a few days with the container on. Then open it once you can clearly see that all of your fish are deader than George Washington. That''s probably close to what this...thing smelled like.

    ¡°Souffre ma col¨¨re, homme sans valeur,¡± the skeleton stated in a deep, demonic voice. Shaking, my body reacted to the situation by automatically pointing Myra at the fucker and blasting a hole through his heart. The organ blew up, but the carcass remained standing. ¡°Shit!¡± I hissed under my breath, now aimlessly firing at this guy. All that my chest shots did to him was push him back a little.

    I bit my bottom lip, shoving my hand into my pocket to grab a handful of bullets.

    ¡°Mortel inutile!¡± the freak screeched, now lunging at me. Eyes widening, I turned away from him and rushed toward the door, hurriedly reloading. Right as I finished, the animated meatbag tackled me face-first onto the floor. Managing to maintain a tight grip on Myra, I looked behind me and saw him crawling on top of me. ¡°Mourir!¡± he wailed. ¡°Oh fuck this!¡± I shouted, trying my damnedest to pull out from under him. I got a little ways, but the bastard had a tight grip on my feet. Turning my body over, I managed to wiggle my feet outta my Converses and back away from him. Not wasting another moment, I pointed Myra at his skull and fired three times.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    First shot went through his left eye socket.

    Second shot put a hole in his forehead.

    Third shot made his brains spew from the back of his head.

    And just like that, the sonuvabitch fell over dead.

    With a deep breath, I decocked Myra and stuck her back into my jeans. Upon getting back on my feet, I stood over the body and admired my handiwork. Of course, I didn''t quite have the appetite for tasting this jerk-off''s blood at that moment. You understand.

    My eyes then wandered around the room, examining the horrified drunks all watching me like a movie. A couple of guys had their jaws wide open. One dude rushed to a trashcan to blow chunks. Even the statue babes were covering their mouths in shock. Each individual in the room had their own unique reaction. However, there was one universal truth they could all agree on; they didn''t know if what they just saw was the most disgusting thing they''d ever seen, or the most awesome.

    I eyeballed one guy hiding underneath a table. I couldn''t help but snicker at the pathetic sight. Poor bastard looked on the verge of crying for his mommy. His thighs were tightly pressed together, knees up to his chest. The worst part about this? He was in full uniform¡ªmilitary uniform...US military uniform. This worthless chump was a former soldier, and here he was cowering away while some unknown lowlife single-handedly takes care of the immediate threat. Support the armed forces my ass.

    ¡°Hey you! The schmuck hidin'' in plain view!¡± The soldier''s eyes widened as the lump in his throat rolled. ¡°Get your ass over here,¡± I ordered. He nodded and reluctantly crawled out of his safe space. I watched him like an owl stalking a mouse. Facial expression never changing, head not turning in any other directions, eyes barely blinking, no distractions¡ªthe stage was all his and I was his director. My gaze never left him as he slowly approached me on his hands and knees. Oh boy was he being extra slow. ¡°What are ya, a stripper tryin'' to get some bills outta me? I got places I gotta be, buddy. Hurry the fuck up!¡±

    Once he was finally at my feet, he stopped and looked up at me. ¡°Gimme those boots of yours.¡± He gave me a look. ¡°You heard me. It''s snowin'' outside and my Converses are tainted with the stench of this freakshow.¡± I bent down to his level. ¡°Besides, I think I earned those boots more than you earned those pretty little metals, am I right?¡±

    Tears began to stream from his face. He wanted to stand up for himself¡ªput me in my place. But he knew he couldn''t; not after all these people witnessed his cowardice firsthand. So he said nothing, only whimpering as he removed his black combat boots. I took them from him and proceeded in putting them on. They were just my size, though this Cinderella wasn''t gonna get his happily ever after; not yet, anyway.

    After tying the laces, I stood up and headed to the door.

    I put my aviators back over my eyes and I exited the bar.

    ...

    The remainder of the 26<sup>th </sup>was spent exploring the entire southern region of Oeste District. I had hoped that I could find some more familiar hotspots. Even if it meant not finding my man, it could''ve at least given me some kinda clue on where he might be or where he would be in the upcoming future. Sadly, my search came up short.

    On the 27<sup>th</sup>, I traveled even further south¡ªall the way down to Sur District. After all, it was the second place little Leroy visited upon his arrival into Casa do Dia?o. What he had seen as a child was a beautiful meadow with miles upon miles of pretty flowers and crops. Leroy saw tranquility, peace and, most importantly, hope of a better tomorrow.

    What I saw, however, was the polar opposite. While Leroy left Sur District with a strong sense of faith, I felt nothing but bitter-sweetness. Granted, it was probably due to the snow covering up the entirety of the meadow. After all, they say certain mental illnesses can be triggered by something as simple as hopelessly snowy weather. But even then, it seemed too...empty. Too quiet. I could hear my heart beat inside my chest as if it were a drum. There was no lonelier place I''d ever been to than this meadow. The only place on the planet that rivaled Sur District in this department was my holding cell back in Brooklyn¡ªcourtesy of being busted for the murders of Benny Murray and Jason Frisk. After walking around for about an hour in a half, I decided I couldn''t stand the silence anymore. So I hopped back onto my snowmobile and returned to the hotel.

    The date was now December 28<sup>th</sup>; day three into my search for Leroy Barris. Heidi was feeling particularly emotional that morning, whining about me leaving her all by herself whole days at a time. I tried to assure her that it was for a good cause, but she wasn''t too easily convinced. So I made her the deal that, after I was through for the day today, I''d spend the next couple of days at the hotel with her¡ªup until New Years, at least. She was satisfied with the arrangement and went back to sleep, allowing me to freshen up and begin my day.

    Since I''d already explored Sur District and the southern half of the city, my agenda for this day was to explore the northern portion of Oeste District. The ol'' snowmobile was highly fuel-efficient, only running on fumes once since I''d claimed it off that dead gangster by the dock. The problem? All the gas stations in the city were closed because of the weather. So needless to say, I had to siphon gas from some poor bastard''s snow-covered Mustang. No harm done for me, though; it ensured that this baby would be ready to continue my ride around this frozen metropolis.

    The drive was long and brick.

    But just as the sky was beginning to get dark, I came across a familiar sight while cruising by some crappy apartment complexes.

    A very familiar sight.

    A ¡°this is where me and Leroy first¡ªchronologically¡ªmet¡± kinda familiar.

    I pulled off to the side of the road and killed the snowmobile''s motor.

    ¡­

    The Great Khan, phase two.

    ¡­

    Naturally, the first thing I did after arriving was step into the alleyway where Leroy''s four year old self was attacked by Louis Couture. I remembered being startled by the scene that had occurred. Here you had a little boy just minding his own business when some scumbag decides to put a gun to his head. Don''t worry, I know exactly what you''re thinking. I''m a crazy bastard, but I ain''t forgetful¡ªnot by a long shot. So I''ll go ahead and say it for you: I have no room to talk considering that the entire reason I was in Casa do Dia?o in the first place was because I did the exact same thing to Jacob Summers.

    But, see, there were two major differences between my situation and Louis''. Leroy was fucking four years old¡ªa small child. Jacob couldn''t of been any more than five or six years younger than me. Louis got his ass massacred by his victim. My victim died like a bitch. In conclusion? Jacob wasn''t important enough to live. Had I not intervened, he would''ve eventually graduated from high school, went to college on a football scholarship, got injured, lost his scholarship, dropped outta college, hit hard times, got addicted to drugs, lost his girlfriend, and ultimately committed suicide by hanging himself in his dirty motel room that he could barely afford. He was better off dying while he was still happy rather than waiting to die when he was thoroughly fed up with his life. I did this kid a favor.

    Leroy, on the other hand, was obviously meant to do some incredible things. He was rescued by a mysterious horse goddess the night his parents were murdered. Soon after, he was blessed with special powers after getting to experience life in what he considered to be the happiest place on the planet. To top it all off, he was the first and only person that was able to hear my voice as I watched his life unfold in the shadows.

    So call me a hypocrite all you want, but I stand by my decision.

    Jacob Summers was meant to die.

    Leroy Barris wasn''t.

    I walked around slowly, dragging my fingertips along the wall. The new combat boots made walking in the snow less of a burden, as the hardened leather kept my feet much warmer than my old Converses did. And while practicality was essential for winter, it was also nice to be able to look down and be reminded of my bar victory just days ago. If there was something to take away from all three of the visions I''d seen regarding this island, it was that surviving here was a major challenge. So much of a challenge, in fact, that the celestial tools running the show felt the need to give us freaky powers so we could defend ourselves.

    Jerrika was a werewolf.

    Dave had his demon steed.

    Even Leroy had the power to control water.

    What did I have?

    Strange dreams?

    A knocked-up girlfriend who''s stomach lit up like a lantern the day we left for Casa do Dia?o?

    Both fairly useless powers, if I do say so myself.

    And yet here I am, still alive and kicking.

    You bet your ass I was gonna wear these boots like a motherfucking badge of honor!

    Once I got to the end of the alleyway, I turned around and walked back while still using my fingertips as metaphorical metal detectors. Around the end of the vision, Danu had told Leroy that I was near. He understood the message very well; enough that he had the stupid horse bitch force a red light outta my mouth just so he could tell me to find him. The sonuvabitch even left a nasty burn on my arm during that interaction. He knew I was on the hunt for him. If there was any place he''d leave a clue for me, surely it would''ve been here. Right?

    I felt up and down the walls on both sides of this alleyway

    Nothing.

    I put my ear against one wall to see if I could hear anything.

    Not a peep.

    So I tried the other wall.

    Still nothing.

    As a last resort, I crouched down and dug through the snow on the ground¡ªjust in case.

    Once again, no goddamn clues.

    I stood up and kicked a wall out of frustration. ¡°Where the hell are you, you overly dense bastard?¡± I said aloud to nobody. ¡°Where are you?!¡± I shouted angrily a minute later. I mean, if he wanted to be found so badly, why couldn''t he just simply give me an address and tell me to meet him there? Was this a test of some kind? Why was I being tested when he was the one that wanted to find me? Shouldn''t his lousy ass be combing the island in search of me? I was gonna have to have a serious chat with this bozo once I got my hands on him.

    I sighed heavily and walked out of the alleyway, stuffing my hands into my jacket pockets. Upon stepping back into the open street, my hand fished a smoke outta my pocket. I stuck the stick into my lips and then dug around for my lighter. After putting it up to my cigarette and clicking twice, I stopped when I heard something suspicious nearby.

    ¡°Connerie! I do not believe you!¡±

    I stuffed the lighter and unlit cigarette back into my pocket and crept up to the source of the voice.

    ¡°Why would I lie to you? You know ''ow tough ''e was.¡±

    I reached an alleyway entrance several feet from the one I''d visited and peeked inside.

    ¡°It does not seem possible! Gustave¡ª''e ''ad ze power to defy death itself!¡±

    People talking¡ªFrench people talking. One was a heavy set guy, sporting a thick orange winter coat. The other was a slightly slimmer guy, but had a fucking butter-face on him. He wore a dirt-colored sweater to match his mop that looked like it hadn''t been shampooed in a month. They both spoke like flamboyant poncies; you know, like most French people do? I think I was starting to hate these bastards as much as Leroy probably did. At least these bozos spoke English, though.

    ¡°It is true, mon amie. Gustave is dead. Killed in his own bar by a filthy guinea.¡±

    A-hohoho¡ªthey were referring to me!

    This was gonna get interesting!

    ¡°A quel point cet homme ¨¦tait-il puissant?¡±

    ¡°Not. Ze coward brought a gun to ze fight.¡±

    The fat one hawked up a huge loogie and spit it onto the ground.

    ¡°Ridiculous! A powerful necromancer like Gustave killed by a mortal man?! Absurd!¡±

    ¡°Powerful necromancer¡±? Ain''t that word used to describe dudes who fuck around with dead bodies or something? All this cuck did was use his freaky magic to make his innards attack me. If he was so powerful, how come didn''t he use his fancy powers to resurrect himself after I shot him down? Methinks Ol'' Gustave might''ve bent the truth just a little when he first decided to boast to his incredibly gullible friends about how strong he was.

    </a> ¡°We should tell ze boss. E''ll want to know that ''e ''as a new enemy in Casa do Dia?o.¡±

    And with that, they walked outta the opposite end of the alleyway.

    I jogged back over to my snowmobile.

    Once I saw them re-enter the street on their own snowmobiles, I trailed them.

    ¡­

    I arrived at a large clothing store named ¡°Habits Royaux¡± not long after they did, being sure to wait until they were outta sight before heading inside. After all, as I''ve said in the past, the key to being a good hunter is to avoid being seen or heard as much as possible. And the last time I went hunting, it was mano a mano. This time? There ain''t no telling how many snail-biters were gonna be inside that shop. Plus, the way the two men were talking, it sounded like they had tricks up their own sleeves. I had to be prepared for just about anything lest I wanted my spine ripped outta my body and hung on the wall.

    The sight that met my eyes was about what you''d expect walking into a clothing store in Casa do Dia?o. Aisle upon aisle of clothing racks, rows catering to various groups of people. Women''s clothes, men''s clothes, clothes for babies, clothes for the elderly, clothes for Westerners, clothes for Easterners, shirts and jackets with slits in the back for wings¡ªyou need it, they probably had it. For those too cheap and lazy to manually browse through the aisles searching for cheap clothes, the store had its own team of slutty stone girls prancing around in outfits on sale as well as indiscriminately showing off various clothing options for customers. Regardless of your shopping style, this place had a fairly nice gig going on.

    Shit, even I got distracted momentarily while surfing through some of the racks. Heidi always griped back home about me never wearing any nice clothes, so maybe I could invest in a suit one of these days? At least a good pair of dress pants or slacks; add some variety to my mostly jean-infested wardrobe. So I nabbed a folded pair of black dress pants in my size and hid them inside my bomber jacket.

    After zipping up, I continued onward towards the French scoundrels talking shit about me. This proved to take longer than I thought it would. With all of the aisles, navigating through the store made me feel like I was in a goddamn corn maze. So many instances where I felt like I was getting somewhere only for me to end up right where I started.

    Turn left in toddler apparel.

    Then make another left.

    Turn right once you reach the beginning of the adolescent girls section.

    Wait, no!

    You went too far, buddo.

    Back back an aisle or two.

    Uh oh!

    Now you''re in the elderly men''s diaper aisle!

    Turn right!

    Shit, now you''re in the aisle with all the bridal gowns.

    Go start over.

    It was maddening!

    By the time I finally reached the end of the store, the door to the employee lounge was closed. But was it locked? How should I go about testing it? Should I jiggle the handle and see if it opens? Should I use Myra to destroy the door so that any lock would be deemed useless? Or maybe, just maybe, should I take the polite approach for once and knock¡ªmaybe pose as a customer?

    Nope, fuck all that, I was gonna kick fucking the door in.

    I backed up far enough and then ran to the door.

    Crash!

    The door went swinging open.

    Huh.

    Either I''m really strong, or this door wasn''t locked.

    Interesting...

    I rushed into the room, hand ready to draw Myra if need be. My surroundings seemed pretty damn cluttered, like a bunch of suits had a wild office party the night before and then half-assed cleaning it up in the morning. Not a soul was around¡ªnot even an underpaid guard sitting on his ass, twiddling his thumbs while he obsessively counted down the minutes before he could go home.

    Needless to say, I was too late in reaching these lousy go-for-nothings before they turned around and hit the road again. But I didn''t leave empty-handed. No sir. In fact, I found something that made the remainder of my search a no-brainer. While looking around the employee lounge for clues, I came across a rather bright pink note taped onto the door of the refrigerator. The hand-writing was neat and pretty¡ªlike a woman''s. The note read:

    ¡°Baby, the boys and I will be gone for a couple of days. We''re headed to Centro District tonight like you asked, but something else has come up, too. Gustave is dead...murdered the day after Christmas, not one hour after he opened up his bar for the day. We don''t know much about his killer at the moment; just that he''s Italian-American and he appears to be searching for a man...a man called ¡°Leroy¡±. There''s no telling if he''s looking for OUR Leroy or not, but him targeting our crew looks awfully suspicious, don''t you think? Once the new year is upon us, we''ll be off to Norte District to follow up on Jean''s report. Whether this man is Leroy Barris'' friend or his foe, they''re both better off dead. We won''t let you down, mon amour.¡±

    With Love,

    Amelia

    P.S. Your coat is back from the dry-cleaner''s. I hung it in your closet. XOXO

    P.S.S This is for Gustave, you stupid, belligerent fool.¡±

    My eyebrow cocked upwards when I read the last part. Not two seconds afterward, I felt somebody''s hands around my throat. ¡°Wha¡ª¡± My attacker started jerking me around hard, squeezing the shit outta my Adam''s apple. I should''ve guessed that there was a rhyme and reason for their door being unlocked. ¡°Bastard!¡± I growled, anxiously kicking behind me in the hopes of hitting this fucker where the sun don''t shine. Sadly, all that this did for me was make me lose my footing and bring me halfway down to the ground.

    At least I was able to get a better look at my attacker.

    Stocky build, thick, tattooed arms, strong jawline, pale white skin, hooked nose, short brown hair¡ªcomplexion putting him in his mid-thirties.

    If I had to guess, former commando in the French Special Forces.

    Or a professional wrestler¡ªfuck, either or ain''t gonna shock me.

    I continued to kick at his thighs despite feeling my face begin to turn blue. This motherfucker was fast, dodging my blows. In desperation, I pulled Myra out and pointed her up at his face. ¡°Path¨¦tique!¡± the burly man roared, ¡°can not fight like a real man. Needs a toy to fight ''is battles for ''im!¡±

    ¡°Toy¡±?!

    Oh he did not just insult my babygirl!

    ¡°Oh yeah¡­?¡± I rasped through his clutches. In an instant, I flipped the revolver up, caught her by the barrel, and banged the stock against his right kneecap. ¡°Argh!¡± he moaned, letting go of my throat just like that. That''ll teach him to talk shit about my sexy lady.

    I coughed and wheezed for a moment while he hopped around in pain. ¡°Well, then...¡± I stood up slowly, unzipping my bomber jacket and letting it slide off my shoulders. It hit the floor along with the stolen pair of pants that was hidden underneath. ¡°...you ignorant cocksucker...¡± I removed my aviators and put them on top of the refrigerator along with Myra. ¡°Lets do this like real men, then.¡± He popped his neck and stepped closer to me. Once he stopped within inches of my torso, I made the startling realization that this putz was taller than me. This fact unsettled me not outta fear, but outta envy. You see, I''m right at six feet. In America, I''ve always been considered by most to be a pretty tall dude; tall enough to play professional basketball, I''d wager. Yet here was this hulking giant, hovering over me like I just climbed up his beanstalk. No matter; I was still gonna kick this bozo''s ass.

    He threw the first punch. I quickly dodged before socking him in the jaw. One loud groan and he was then in a frenzy, swinging his fists at me like a livid boxer. Guess I got more hits on him than he expected I would. He managed to push me into the refrigerator, most of his punches hitting my forehead and eye-sockets. I tried to push him away from me, but he kept belting me in face. Right after he snuffed my nose, I yelped and kneed him in the groin.

    Once he was offa me, it was my turn to unleash a series of punches on his lily ass. To tell you the truth, I felt happy to be able to do this again¡ªfighting with my fists, I mean. After all, it was my go-to method of inflicting damage onto others for years. If there was a brawl to be had, I was arriving with either a blunt weapon¡ªlike baseball bats or crowbars¡ªor nothing at all. Regardless of route taken, there was always something incredibly therapeutic about ripping and bruising other guys'' skin in the heat of a good ol'' street fight. It was the simplest way to show my fellow man just how much I loathed them without having to waste time using words. Show ''em who''s boss rather than tell ''em. Needless to say, acquiring Myra only darkened my already sick, twisted fantasies.

    I got a little too into this beat-down, eventually finding myself on top of this guy. The cool sensation of my blood running from my nostrils down into my mouth only fueled my fire even more. One hand grabbed his collar and other wailed on his already ugly mug. Most of my hits went for his throat and mouth, though a couple of them were a bit overshot. However, I did manage to send a couple of his teeth flying¡ªso I was pleased with myself, all the same.

    Of course, this fucker being ex-military, thinking he was gonna stay down was an unrealistic call to make. He headbutted me, which made me roll onto the floor. Then he took the opportunity to straddle me, back-handing me across the face a couple of times. Man, for sissy jabs like his, he sure packed each slap with quite a bit of force. I had to cling on to the adrenaline that the fight was giving me in order to not let the daylights get knocked outta me.

    Finally deciding to play his game too, I wrapped both of my hands around his neck. He gasped, trying to pry me offa him. But baby, I wasn''t gonna choke him. Oh no. This tough sonuvabitch deserved an embarrassing death; one that his fellow goons would laugh about for years to come. Instead of letting him experience a hero''s death like any veteran would want, I was gonna off him in a way that would make his ghost regret not building a protective fence around that ivory tower of his.

    With that, I twisted his neck, snapping it.

    The big, strong muscle of this lousy French operation died instantly on top of me.

    I shoved him onto the floor and got back onto my feet. After wiping my bloody nose on my arm, my eyes shifted downward to the French corpse. The temptation to taste this asshole''s blood was certainly there, but the taste of my own blood was already strongly present on my tongue. So I decided against it, vowing to sample my next victim''s blood as compensation.

    I spat blood on the body and hobbled over to my bomber jacket. Just as I bent down and held my hand out, a better idea surfaced in my head. These poncy assholes were gunning for both me and Leroy, formulating the plan to ice the relatively normal human with their biggest fighter while the rest of the chess pieces gunned after the man with superpowers. I, the ¡°normal human¡± took this beefy bastard out all by myself...just like I took out Gustave all by myself. If I was gonna make a surprise entrance for them and Leroy, I needed to bring something that would spare me from having to flap my gums too much. Give them the message loud and clear without exposition, you know?

    So I looked around the employee lounge, hoping to find this French Don''s fancy coat mentioned in¡ªI''m guessing¡ªhis mistress''s note. From the kitchen, the hall went down a little ways. Along the way were verbally unlabeled bathrooms, both side by side with the tell-tale ¡°Man¡± and ¡°Woman¡± stick figures directing and producing the corresponding silent films on their own. Once I reached another door, I opened to to find a rather drab looking office. Beige walls, beige desk, beige door...beige, beige, beige. Ain''t the French supposed to be really artsy and shit? Where was all the color here? The life? My seed living inside Heidi''s uterus could do a better paint job, for Christ''s sake!

    I stepped over to what appeared to be a closet and opened it.

    The sight of a teal coat and black gangster fedora caught my eye.

    ¡­

    Memories of a man that I both had and hadn''t met yet filled my mind. Things I assumed would be, but haven''t yet witnessed. Personality arousing the furious, fire-breathing dragon within me. I grabbed the coat and put it on. Then I carefully placed the hat over my scalp.

    Here''s hoping this asshole doesn''t have lice or some shit.

    After that, I exited the office and entered the men''s restroom. I approached the mirror to examine the bloody and beaten, yet still outrageously handsome devil that was gonna take this island by storm once he found Leroy Barris. I liked this man that I was watching¡ªChrist, I loved this man. He was the smartest guy I knew; also the strongest. And the sexiest. And certainly the luckiest. I didn''t know what was in store for his future, but I knew that his journey was gonna be one hell of a joy ride.

    ¡°Lookin'' good, Genghis Two,¡± I said aloud, licking my life essence off my bottom lip.

    The cocky bastard gave me a wink in the mirror.

 Chapter Fourteen: Party Like its 1990!

    As I stared at my reflection, I contemplated the two options I had to choose from.

    Option A, I keep my promise to Heidi and go home for a little while.

    Option B, I head straight for Norte District and try to find Leroy before these bastards do.

    The gang''s note was pretty straightforward in regards to a set plan. However, these poncies had tried and failed to lure me into a trap...so who was to say that they weren''t aiming to send me on some wild goose chase? For all I knew, they weren''t headed for Centro District at all. They could be halfway to Leroy''s presumed location by now¡ªor the lazy cucks might just be down the street!

    Then again, there was also the possibility that they knew I was gonna survive my encounter with Muscles. The intensity of the fight distracted me from noticing at first, but I eventually came to the realization that this dude didn''t have any special powers...or at least any useful ones. He was strong, yeah, but so was anyone that took care of themselves and frequented the gym. Roy, being the big softie he was, could''ve easily gone mano a mano with this guy and come out with fewer bruises than me. Besides, I already took out one of their biggest players¡ªaka a man that did have supernatural powers. If I could do that, what sorta challenge was this chump? These bozos knew I''d win; they just wanted an excuse to fire the weakest link from their ranks.

    Perhaps their course of action actually was their course of action, but they were expecting me to follow them the entire way. From here, to Centro, and allll the way to Norte¡ªmaybe they thought I''d try offing them before reaching Leroy? They were wanting me to chase them. They were spoiling for a fight. And guess what? I was more than willing to give it to them...but I''d only be putting myself at a disadvantage if I took their bait. I was alone, packing only my trusty Uberti Cattleman, while they had a whole gang of super-powered freaks at their disposal. I needed back-up; I needed Leroy Barris.

    So in the internal battle between love and violence, love won this time. I cleaned my face up, gathered all my things¡ªswitching over the contents from my bomber jacket to the teal coat¡ªand headed home. For the next few days, I''d keep Heidi company and help her through her pesky first trimester symptoms. Meanwhile, in the world of my stinky cheese-eating acquaintances, I''d do more damage to them by no-showing to their little surprise party they had planned for me in Centro. Keep ''em looking over their shoulders; keep ''em paranoid, you know? I''d repay them by meeting up with them in Norte. If worst came to pass and they were pulling something sneaky after all, Leroy was more than capable of defending himself.

    ...

    For the entirety of the days leading up to the new year, Heidi was in and out of the bathroom constantly. She alternated between needing to vomit her guts out and needing to piss like a racehorse at least once every two or three hours; sometimes just one. On New Years Eve night, she called me into the bathroom to look at something. Once I walked in, I saw her standing in front of the mirror. She had taken off her shirt and bra, covering her breasts with her hands.

    You see, Heidi had gotten to where every time she went to take care of her business, she took the opportunity to admire her belly in the mirror afterward. Every. Single. Time. Even though her belly looked exactly the same as it did an hour ago, she still wanted to look just in case; see if the kid pulls an Alien and pops outta her stomach suddenly, I guess. Being that she was only a few weeks pregnant, she didn''t have too much of a bump yet...though her abdomen was looking a little pudgier than before¡ªand not the ¡°chubby¡± type of pudgy, either.

    Not gonna lie, that alarmed me a bit when I first noticed.

    Are all pregnancies like this?

    Does the mom really start puffing out this early on?

    I don''t suppose any of you have kids or have been pregnant at some point in time?

    If you have, please, throw me a goddamn bone here.

    I didn''t want to show my concern to her, so I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her before she could say anything. ¡°Kid''s growin'' quick, huh?¡± I said just before planting a soft kiss on her neck. She hummed, leaning into me. ¡°Sure is,¡± she said softly. My head rested against the back of hers, turned so I could see us together in the mirror. I smiled at the sight before me.

    Heidi''s eyes were closed as she relaxed against my body. Her breathing was quiet and steady, chest moving slowly up and down. It reminded me of the waves of an ocean, swaying with the wind on a sunny day. Fish swam all day and dolphins were always splashing around, disrupting the current and causing ripples in the water. Careless humans tossed their garbage into her, threatening to turn her from a beautiful blue majesty into a contaminated sewer that shined with an ugly green hue during the early afternoon. However, despite all of that, the ocean maintained its grace and strength, never draining into the Earth and leaving all its life to starve. She was a strong body of water; she was seventy percent of the planet.

    I knew Heidi was tired.

    I knew she was sore all over.

    I knew she was emotionally exhausted.

    But you know what?

    She was still the most beautiful woman in the entire galaxy.

    Heidi was my planet¡ªmy world.

    ¡°I''m a lucky man,¡± I said, leaning down a little to kiss her shoulder. She smiled as she lowered her hands to caress mine. My grin widened a little at the sight of her exposed breasts. ¡°What did you want me to look at, luce della mia vita?¡± She giggled, opening her eyes and facing the mirror. ¡°I think you''re probably lookin'' at ''em right now, you dirty boy.¡± Now it was my turn to chuckle. ¡°Maybe I am.¡± ¡°Notice anythin'' different about them?¡± she purred.

    I studied them, dragging my hands up to gently massage them. Heidi had told me before that her breasts had been extremely sensitive lately, so I was careful to not squeeze too hard. Though that didn''t stop me from playing with her perky nipples for a bit. She bit her bottom lip, softly moaning to my touch. That''s when I finally noticed what was so different about them.

    ¡°They''re a little bigger than the last time I seen them.¡± ¡°Mmhmm,¡± she said softly, ¡°think I''m an entire cup size larger. We''ll need to stop by a clothin'' store sometime soon and get me some more bras.¡± I continued to twirl her nipples with my fingers. ¡°Or you could just walk around with no bra on. I ain''t gonna complain if you do that.¡± She giggled again. ¡°You wouldn''t, but everyone else would.¡± I turned her around so we were facing each other. ¡°Fuck them.¡± Our lips met in what started off as a slow tango, but then turned into a fiery, passionate blaze.

    Our hands were in each others'' hair.

    Our breathing got heavier.

    I licked her lip.

    She bit mine.

    My hands moved down and squeezed her ass.

    Her leg wrapped itself around my waist.

    Next thing we knew, we were backing up into the bedroom and ending the year with a bang...literally.

    ...

    When we woke up, it was January 1<sup>st</sup>, 1990. Lemme tell you guys, it was surreal opening my eyes and making the realization that I''d now lived through two entire decades. I was born in the spring of 1969, so it wasn''t until sometime in the early 70''s that my earliest memories came to be. There ain''t much to remember about a country or its culture when you''re a toddler with very few cares in the world other than seeing if Scooby-Doo and the Mystery Inc. gang was gonna catch their latest perp.

    As time went by, however, I learned about the war, the civil rights protests, and the ever-rising crime rate in New York City. Everywhere I went, I saw whites ganging up on blacks, blacks ganging up on whites, whites ganging up on whites, blacks ganging up on blacks, men ganging up on women, adults ganging up on children¡ªyou name it, I''ve seen it. Everyone was ganging up on each other! By the end of 1979, I was a ten-year old that had already been exposed to things like violence, drugs, and even sex to a degree.

    But you know, that was the 1970''s for you.

    Peace and love when everybody was too high to tell time.

    Violence and hate when the drugs lost their edge.

    Things mellowed out a little in the 80''s. Once America realized that nobody was falling for the ¡°peace and love¡± bullshit anymore, they decided to switch things up by electing a Hollywood star as the new president and tearing down the Berlin Wall. After that, clothes and hair both managed to get even flashier than they already had been and all people wanted to talk about anymore was movies and music. Sure, everything seemed to be getting better...but all of it was simply the make-up covering up the bruises left from the gruesome pounding the night before. And like all cosmetics, it eventually gets washed off so more bruises can be made.

    What I mean to say, ladies and gentlemen, is that the rise in pop culture and politics did literally nothing regarding the crimes happening in my neck of the woods on a daily basis. People were still getting shot, women were still getting blamed for their rapes, priests were still getting too touchy-feely with their Sunday School students, cops were still holier-than-thou douchebags counting down the minutes until their next donut and coffee break, and youngsters were still turning to narcotics and alcohol to cope with their awful home lives. In short, the 1980''s were basically the 1970''s with fewer psychedelics and more idiots that couldn''t properly wipe their own asses, but could certainly disappoint you after you just got done thinking to yourself, ¡°Surely they''re done quotin'' Mr. Miyagi''s retarded ¡°wax on, wax off¡± bullshit now, right? Nobody can find that much amusement with one movie line, right?!¡±

    In conclusion, the 70''s were shit, the 80''s were shit, and the 90''s will more than likely be shit as well.

    Only this time, I won''t be around to see just how shitty things in the United States will be.

    Though it was pretty obvious at this point that Casa do Dia?o wouldn''t be any better.

    But I digress, you guys didn''t come here for a history lesson.

    As great as New Years Eve was, New Years Day was a whole different story. You remember how me and Heidi made a deal that I''d stay home until New Years? That I needed to get back on the street if I wanted any hoping hell of finding work in the city? That I still needed to deal with what I assumed was the French Mafia? That Leroy Barris was fucking waiting for me?!

    You do?

    You know, that''s awesome, my guy.

    Because, you see, she forgot entirely about it.

    This, naturally, resulted in an argument first thing in the morning; while we were still in bed, even.

    ¡°Heidi, money don''t grow on trees. We can''t just stay at this hotel forever, you know.¡± She turned over, her back now facing me. ¡°The storm outside is way too dangerous, Genghis. You can''t just keep goin'' out there and riskin'' your neck everyday!¡± I ran my hand up and down her side, biting my lip in the attempt to keep my temper in check. ¡°You know what Alexander said. We only got two months free here until he starts chargin'' us. And there''s no tellin'' how much he''ll make us pay.¡±

    ¡°That''s two months away, babyboy,¡± she whimpered, ¡°stay with me until then!¡± Boy, did I have to work hard to stifle a groan. Don''t get me wrong, I knew very well that it wasn''t Heidi''s fault that her emotions were all outta whack. Roy''s ¡°have safe sex¡± talk that he gave me years ago stressed heavily on the point that women often became hysterical bitches whenever they were pregnant. Something having to do with their hormones or some shit, I dunno. He told me, ¡°If you think you''re bad whenever you''re havin'' one of your manic episodes, just wait until you see how crazy a woman can get when your baby is kickin'' her insides like a fuckin'' soccer ball! That''s why you gotta use a condom every single time, buddy.¡±

    Too bad using a condom is precisely what got us here in the first place. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Heidi, think of why we''re here. We''re here so we can start over¡ªhave a new life. We can''t just wait around and hope for miracles.¡± At this point, she slowly turned back around and looked at me with damp eyes. Oh boy, here came the goddamn guilt trip. ¡°Wait until the snow clears, at least. Please?¡± No can do, babygirl. Those French douchebags sure ain''t gonna wait, so neither will I.

    ¡°C''mon, doan cry,¡± I whispered, wiping away her tears with my thumb. ¡°I got the snowmobile, baby. I''ll be just fine. Besides, I got a lead on a possible gig up north.¡± She sniffled. ¡°What kinda gig?

    Oh, you know.

    ¡°A bit of surveyin''. Maybe a little landscapin''. Occasional pest control¡­just a couple odd jobs, really.¡±

    My kind of work.

    ¡°So freelance work? Is that what you wanna do, Genghis?¡± I leaned in and kissed her lips. ¡°Yeah. It''s the only line of work where I won''t feel like some kinda corporate slave. And if I''m any good at it, I can rake in so much cheddar that we won''t know what to do with it all.¡± Heidi''s expression was lightening up a little, so I continued to pitch my game plan to her.

    ¡°I''m s''pose to be meetin'' some contractor in Norte District¡ªsome guy named Leroy. Met one of his buddies the other day when I got the snazzy getup.¡± I nodded towards the teal coat and gangster fedora both hanging on the rack by the door. ¡°His guy told me he''d give Ol'' Leroy a ring and see if he''d be willin'' to tawlk to me about a job. Before I knew it, we were standin'' by a payphone. He made a call, tawlked a bit, hung up, and told me to meet Leroy in Norte District sometime after New Years.¡±

    Heidi gave me a small smile. ¡°How far away is Norte District from here?¡± I sighed heavily, dreading the answer I was gonna have to give her. Considering it took me a little over a day to get to and from North Oeste, I was gonna guess at least two or three days. Meaning she''d be left all by herself for over twenty-four hours. Christ.

    ¡°Might be gone for a few days, babygirl.¡± Her eyes widened, tears threatening to pour again. ¡°Why so long, Genghis?!¡± I caressed her cheek. ¡°Distance, mainly. If I can tawlk Leroy into giving me some work in Oeste District, then I''d be all set.¡± She sniffled. ¡°Can I come with you, at least?¡±

    Um, no.

    ¡°Heidi, it''s too cold outside for you right now.¡±

    ¡°You''re goin'', though!¡±

    ¡°I ain''t the one eatin'' for two. The brick weather ain''t gonna do as much harm to me as it would you.¡±

    ¡°It''s not fair, Genghis!¡±

    I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close as she bawled loudly against my chest. ¡°I''ll come home to you, babygirl. I promise,¡± I said, rubbing her back up and down. ¡°It''s just gonna be a few days and I''ll be right back. That''s all. Just a few days.¡± My tone was quiet and gentle despite my ever growing irritation over the situation.

    It ain''t her fault, Genghis.

    It ain''t her fault.

    ¡°Call me everyday, you hear me?!¡± she sobbed, slapping my arm a few times. I rolled my eyes, but continued to rub her back. ¡°I''ll call you every time I find a stop with a workin'' phone.¡± Heidi said nothing else for a couple of minutes, preferring to get her crying outta her system first. Granted, with her current state, I wasn''t sure that she''d ever quite get all of it out. But hey, she was trying and that''s all that mattered.

    ¡°Y-You promise?¡± she finally asked sheepishly.

    I gave her one last squeeze with my arm.

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    She eventually calmed down and agreed that I should leave first thing tomorrow morning if I wanted to make decent time to Norte District. I initially wanted to leave later on that day, but I couldn''t bring myself to just leave Heidi behind right after our talk. After all, the list of people I care about is an incredibly short one¡ªand I do mean incredibly fucking short. Anybody who can somehow make it onto that highly exclusive list is someone who I not only trust, but treasure with every breath I take. So far, the only people on that list were Heidi, our unborn child, and yours truly.

    January 2<sup>nd</sup> came a lot quicker than I thought it would.

    I got up early and took a quick shower.

    After getting dressed and packed for my short trip, I woke Heidi up and kissed her good-bye.

    I nabbed my Genghis Two-inspired getup and began my long trip to Norte District.

    ¡­

    I drove for three whole days before I reached my destination. The weather only got colder the further up north I went, though my new coat actually did a decent job of keeping me warm. In fact, the only part of my body that was really suffering from the freezing weather was the upper half of my face. Of course, this was also thanks to Heidi''s amazing ability to lay mad guilt trips on anybody she wanted something from. After giving Alexander some fairly convincing crocodile tears over me driving up north in the snow for a couple of days at a time, he reluctantly handed me a plaid scarf from his personal wardrobe. Granted, he made me promise I''d wash it before giving it back to him.

    I flashed him a sly grin.

    It was best that I didn''t warn him that it may come back with a couple questionable stains on it.

    Keeping true to my promise, I made sure to contact Heidi every time I stopped for a nap, snack, or bathroom break. Before you ask, no; it wasn''t as easy as walking in and handing somebody a wad of cash so I could have a nice, thick steak to eat or a cozy bed to sleep in. Allow me to break it down for you guys, okay? You see, all countries have a special currency system that differs from the currency system of other countries. The United States uses the US dollar, Mexico uses pesos, the UK uses pounds, etc.

    Casa do Dia?o has its own currency system, too. They use what is called ¡°fichas¡±. While US dollars are green pieces of paper with the faces of previous presidents in the middle, fichas are these bizarre cards that show off your reflection in the light, but turns it into a random monster depending on the value of the bill. Ones turned you into a goblin-like creature, fives turned you into a zombie, tens turned you into a Nosferatu-esqe vampire¡ªyou get the gist of it; it was fucking weird. I didn''t know the name of the cent pieces, but they were these little rounded stones that each had a cloaked figure etched into them. The type of stone varied depending on its value. One cent stones were made outta granite, five cent stones were made outta sandstone¡ªet cetera, et cetera.

    How do I know this? Because I got denied a goddamn motel room the first night of my trip. ¡°Boi, yaw Aw-merican dollas are barely equal to even one Casa do Dia?o ficha!¡± bellowed this obnoxious scoundrel whose accent pinned him as being born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts; aka, the loud assholes who all non-New Yorkers swear that we sound like. C''mon people, we''re loud...but we ain''t that loud! Needless to say, I shot the bastard, mugged him, and nabbed my room key. I found the experience to be rather therapeutic, if I do say so myself.

    ...

    And by using this bozo''s guap, I was able to support myself as well as keep my woman up to date on things during my long journey.

    And so I drove and drove.

    My search for Leroy Barris lasted for a week and a half.

    I searched high and low for this sonuvabitch.

    I was nearly at the end of my rope when Lady Luck decided to seduce me with that sexy wink of hers.

    A lead made itself available and I followed it.

    And once I found my man, I knew exactly what to do next.

    ¡­

    What I didn''t know was what I should''ve been expecting upon my arrival into Norte District. Not long after my boy, Leroy, mercilessly slaughtered that worthless Frenchman at the ripe age of four, he was taken in by these two women that owned their own cottage in these parts. He seemed to have lived a mostly peaceful live here, even adopting a sorta Pagan-like spirituality after learning that the horse that saved him was some kinda Celtic Goddess. Honestly, I still had my doubts. Judging by my dealings with Zombie Bastard as well as the fucked up shit I''ve seen in my daydreams, I wouldn''t be at all surprised if ¡°Danu¡± turned out to be some kinda grotesque demon with five asses, seven penises, and a beer gut the size of Rhode Island.

    You never know, alright?

    I''d rather be a skeptic than blindly listen to some divine abomination''s quote-on-quote ¡°words of wisdom¡±.

    Sue me.

    It was on the second day of my road trip, around 8:30 P.M., when I saw the signs welcoming me into Norte District. The very first thing I noticed about this transition was the abrupt end to the city...and boy do I mean ¡°abrupt¡±. You ever drive on the highway and reach some major city? You''re surrounded by skyscrapers for about an hour or two, then you reach the slightly poorer neighborhoods for a while before ultimately reaching the boonies? It don''t matter if you''re up north or down south, that''s always the way it is. I seen it enough times while I was on the run, so I oughta know what the hell I''m talking about.

    Well, considering how sudden this change was, I think it''s safe to assume I didn''t know as much as I thought.

    I ain''t even exaggerating on this, folks.

    All traces of the city vanished as soon as I crossed that border.

    Poof!

    Gone!

    Scomparso!

    All I could see for fucking fifty goddamn miles was trees, snow, and the occasional elk prancing around. I desperately searched for a place that I could sleep for the night, but it didn''t look like this forest was gonna end anytime soon. I couldn''t help but wonder if people driving through the Mojave Desert felt this way. I mean, really, are these two places that much different? Sure, one is extremely hot and the other is extremely cold, but that''s really all that''s different about them, now ain''t it? They both lack civilization for the most part, they both stretch for god knows how many miles, and you''ll inevitably start seeing shit the longer you''re stuck in both locations.

    No, it''s true; the snow on the ground was looking more and more like a soft mattress the longer this drive lasted.

    Not gonna lie, these surroundings made me feel like a fish outta water. I''m a city-slicker, goddammit¡ªborn and raised! Sure, I''ve been to upstate New York a couple times growing up, but not nearly enough for me to get used to the lack of civilization. Which was truly a shame, really; somebody with my deep-seated contempt for human life would benefit most from being a hermit with his own cabin in the woods.

    Once the time on the snowmobile''s dash read midnight, I knew I wasn''t gonna be getting a warm hotel room that night. However, I wasn''t willing to sleep in the forest and risk waking up to a coyote trying to rip one of my legs off my body. So I did the most logical thing and pulled over for a few minutes. I smoked a cigarette, hummed a couple rock songs to myself and paced back and forth by the snowmobile. You know, anything to keep my blood pumping¡ªanything to keep me from dozing off during this godawful drive.

    ¡°Just give it another day, Genghis,¡± I said to myself out loud, ¡°it will all be worth it once you find Leroy and get your shit squared away in this hellhole. Cold is only an emotion. Tired is only an emotion. Be a machine. Be the machine.¡± Having successfully psyched myself out, I took a leak on a nearby tree and hopped back onto the snowmobile. Thus began my all-nighter in the vast wilderness of Norte District.

    Things went alright for the first two hours. By 3:00, my eyes were starting to hurt from straining them so much in the heavy wind. By 4:00, I''d caught myself a few times nearly passing out at the handlebars. By 5:00, there was nothing more that I wanted other than a nice bed to catch some much needed ZZZs in. Fuck, I''d take sleeping on a goddamn rock at this point so long as it was indoors!

    The sunrise eventually greeted some time after 6:00 A.M.

    And finally, praise whatever pretentious asshole runs this world, I saw roads.

    Actual.

    Goddamn.

    ROADS!

    Before I knew it, I entered a small town. ¡°Yeah! Yeeeeeeeah! Woooo!¡± I screamed with unbridled excitement. The very second I reached a 24/7 diner, I rang up Heidi and apologized for not calling her the night before. After telling her that I loved her, I hung up and re-entered the diner lobby. I claimed an empty booth by the window and took my hat off, placing it on the table and resting my head against the glass. After my long night in the motherfucking woods, I was out like a light in a matter of seconds.

    ...

    I could''ve been out for an entire day.

    Maybe just a few hours.

    Shit, it could''ve been only five minutes.

    The amount of time I slept for only mattered to me for about two seconds when I woke up.

    After that, all my fucks flew out the window once I saw who the man shaking me awake was.

    ¡°Ah, thank the Goddess you''re alive, sir! I was worried when I noticed you hadn''t budged since this marning!¡± I gathered that this guy had just come out of the weather, as his short, black buzzcut still had a few stubborn snowflakes sticking to it. His chocolate brown eyes matched his dark skin. A thick, smoky gray scarf was wrapped around his neck, complimenting the royal blue parka he wore around his torso. My eyes widened and my vocal chords locked up on me.

    ¡°Ioh''ou!¡±

    Smooth, Genghis.

    Great fucking time to lose your goddamn voice!

    ¡°What was that? I didn''t quite catch that, sir.¡± Like the first time he spoke to me, Leroy''s voice had a slight Irish accent. Of course, it was more noticeable now that he wasn''t whispering...but not quite strong enough for me ask him if anybody''s been trying to steal his Lucky Charms lately.

    ¡°E''oy''arris!¡± He cocked an eyebrow, but then nodded. ¡°Ah, I think I understand, sir. Don''t worry, m''mum has the same problem whenever she wakes up in the marning. Doctors call it ¡°sleep paralysis¡±. Not as uncommon as you think!¡±

    For fuck''s sake.

    ¡°Isten¡ª¡± Before I could finish my thought, the sound of a telephone ringing was coming outta his jacket. ¡°Aye, m''apologies, good sir. One moment, please.¡± With that, he unzipped his parka and whipped out this gigantic white block with an antenna. I''d seen these strange contraptions before back in New York; of course, only the rich snobs that drove around in brand, spanking new Maseratis ever really carried these things around. I think they called it a ¡°cell phone¡± or some shit like that.

    ¡°Aye?¡±

    He listened for a few moments.

    Judging on the look on his face, it was something he didn''t want to hear.

    ¡°Who are you? How did you get this phone number?¡±

    He listened for another couple of moments, eyeballing me every once in a while.

    ¡°Listen here, you ponce. Whoever your boss is, he can shove his threats straight up his hairy arse.¡±

    He listened for another minute.

    ¡°I''ll see you and your men there. Don''t be surprised when I tear the whole lot of you into drobes!¡±

    He pressed a button and quickly shoved the phone back into his jacket. ¡°M''apologies, stranger. I have urgent business I must attend to. Perhaps we''ll meet again when your voice isn''t in tatters!¡± He rushed outside and, in turn, I grabbed my hat and leaped outta my booth to follow him.

    ¡°Leroy, wait!¡± I finally managed to shout a moment too late. For the moment I made it outside, Leroy had summoned a giant snow wave from the sidewalk and was using a trashcan lid to surf along the ice. I stood there spellbound for a moment. ¡°Guess he got a lot better at controlling his powers,¡± I thought to myself.

    Quickly snapping outta my daze, I rushed to my snowmobile and chased after my new friend.

 Chapter Fifteen: Is It Me Youre Looking For?

    You know, for how great this trusty snowmobile was, it was really slow.

    Then again, I suppose anything would be slower than a giant goddamn snow wave.

    The afternoon sun did nothing to calm the cold breeze within this small town. Leroy was already half a mile up the road before I could even get close enough for bits of frozen rain to start hitting me in the arm. I tried revving up the motor a couple of times in the hopes of getting his attention, but he either didn''t hear me, or simply chose to ignore me. I''d like to think it wasn''t the latter; you know, considering he was the entire reason I was here in Norte District to start with? I mean, you don''t just tell somebody to find you and then make them chase after you. This ain''t some kinda romantic fairytale about a runaway princess and her misunderstood scoundrel. This story, currently, was about two scumbags who needed each other to make it big in a screwed-up place. The chase can be forgiven for a love story, but not for this story, pal!

    So I cleared my throat, hoping my voice wouldn''t lock up on me again. ¡°Leroy! Hey! Wait a minute!¡± Thankfully, the black bastard heard me this time and raised an arm up. He opened his hand up wide and, next thing I knew, the road was suddenly covered in a thick sheet of slick ice. This certainly helped me speed up so I could catch up to him, but I had to be careful not to steer any unless I really wanted to spin out and crash against a telephone pole. Leroy, still surfing along the snow, waited until I was next to him before he said anything.

    ¡°It''s about time your voice worked properly, sir! You ought to go to bed at a narmal time in the evening! Doctors say that helps with paralysis!¡± I grinned, glad that he was willing to shoot the shit with me during his massive hurry to kick some, presumably, French ass. ¡°It''s kinda hard to get sleep when you''re drivin'' through the fuckin'' woods all night, pal!¡± He gave a hearty laugh, looking over at me for a moment. ¡°I''m going to make the educated guess that you aren''t from the countryside!¡±

    Hmm...what gave it away?

    My charming personality, my tenacity, my completely reasonable reaction to sleep deprivation, or¡ª

    ¡°Y''know, I ain''t exactly seen any shops sellin'' campin'' supplies¡ª¡± ¡°In the heart of New Yark City?!¡± he interrupted, flashing me a shit-eating grin afterward. I gave him a look, furrowing my brow. ¡°M''apologies, sir; that accent of yours just makes me think you''re going to tell me a starry about a bloke named Vinny who acted the maggot for your sister!¡± Oh ha ha. ¡°Says the guy who sounds like he''s gonna pull a pot of gold outta his ass so he can relieve himself of his rainbow-diarrhea!¡±

    To this jab, Leroy laughed again. He then looked at me with his brown eyes and said the words I''d been waiting for him to say ever since we met on that ship. ¡°I think I''m going to like you, sir! You''re everything I hoped you''d be!¡± I cocked an eyebrow, smile widening. ¡°You remember me, then?!¡± ¡°Of course I do!¡± he responded, ¡°I made a beam of light shoot out of your mouth, didn''t I?!¡±

    Oh yeah.

    I suppose he did see somebody through that red portal.

    ¡°As you can see, I found your sawrry ass!¡± He grinned wide. ¡°So you did! But you brought trouble with you, it seems!¡± Now it was my turn to laugh. ¡°That''s for the burn on my arm, yah jackass!¡± Leroy ran a hand over his buzzcut. ¡°M''apologies for that! Perhaps I''ll explain my actions once we take care of these muppets!¡±

    Just what I wanted to hear, my man.

    I think I''m gonna like you, too.

    ¡°Sounds like a plan, son! Where are we meetin'' these French pussies, anyway?!¡± His face lightened up brightly at the phrase ¡°French pussies¡±. ¡°They want us to meet them at this little nightclub further up narth! It''s called ¡°O Pr¨ªncipe Modesto¡±! Roughly translates into ¡°The Modest Prince¡±; a fitting name, to be sure!¡±

    ¡°A fitting name¡±? What? Leroy, what are you smoking? What kinda schmuck names their joint ¡°The Modest Prince¡±? Sounds like an incredibly sarcastic nickname someone would give an overly-sheltered herb who tried to throw a party once upon a time. The result? He replaced the spiked punch with fresh milk and the sexy guitar solos with a collection of twangy country songs preaching about how you should wait until marriage to have sex. He also invited your grandma to the party, who probably spent the entire night showing your friends embarrassing baby pictures that your parents gave her a long time ago. You brought a hot date, but don''t expect a blowjob during the drive home, buddy. Hell, you''ll be lucky to even get a kiss outta her! In fact, let''s just go with the assumption that she''ll very likely dump your ass once the night is through.

    ¡°We''ll be the judges of that later! For now, we need to focus on how to get to this place! I trust you know the way?!¡± He laughed again, looking forward. ¡°Indeed I do! You just go straight on this road until you start seeing some bright neon signs! Don''t worry, there won''t be as many of them there as there are in Oeste District, so it will be easy to spot in the dark of night!¡± An open smile spread over the lower half of my face. ¡°That''s what I like to hear! How far away is it?!¡±

    He turned to look at me again, sporting another shit-eating grin. ¡°A hundred¡ªtwo hundred miles, maybe?!¡± ¡°Good!¡± I shouted back, ¡°If they doan wanna see us until tonight, then that gives us plenty of time!¡± Leroy once again laughed.

    And that, ladies and gentlemen, was when the bastard pulled a fast one on me. ¡°Actually, it will only take me an hour to get there! You, on the other hand¡­¡± He snapped his fingers. Next thing I knew, the ice vanished right from under me and my snowmobile slowed down drastically. ¡°Meet me in the jacks when you get there!¡± Leroy called out, now soaring ahead of me on his giant snow wave. ¡°Wait a minute¡ªhey!¡± I tried to shout out, but to no avail.

    Well, that was just great. The back I''d been rested on decided to end the piggyback ride¡ªjust like that. Why? He clearly wanted me to go with him, so why make me trail behind? Did he have a plan? Was he testing out my loyalty or some shit? He oughta know that I ain''t got a reason to betray him. Why would I? I ain''t got any other friends in Casa do Dia?o! He was the only sonuvabitch that went through the trouble of contacting me once it was settled that I''d be coming to this island. Well, I mean, Zombie Bastard and Genghis Two did, too...but they hardly count.

    In a matter of seconds, Leroy Barris was completely out of my line of sight.

    I threw my left hand up while my right hopelessly squeezed the throttle.

    ¡°Where the ever livin'' fuck are ¡°the jacks¡± supposed to be?!¡± I shouted at the lousy sonuvabitch.

    ¡­

    And so I drove where Leroy had told me to drive; straight on down the road.

    Oddly enough, I didn''t come across anybody else during the entirety of the trip; no doubt my new friend''s doing.

    However, while it made the journey easy for me, it also made it seem much longer than it already was.

    And lemme tell you guys...it was certainly a long fucking trip.

    How long, you ask?

    Let''s just say that I was thoroughly convinced Leroy was pulling my leg when he gave me directions to this joint.

    After all, one can only stare at endless nothingness for so long until the desperate need to scream and hit something takes over.

    Or, in this case, the desperate need to hit someone...that someone being Leroy in the case that I was right.

    For once, I was glad to be proven wrong whenever I finally did arrive at the meeting place.

    ¡­

    It was well past midnight by the time I started seeing signs of civilization. The tell-tale coolness of mucus oozed from my nostrils like a slowly drawn bath and the all-too-familiar tickle in the back of my throat made one thing perfectly clear; I was getting sick. Not mad sick, obviously...just the common cold. A little rest and some chicken noodle soup would do me a world of good. However, I was gonna make Leroy cough up the dough for my antibiotics if it turned into something more severe like pneumonia.

    All this made me realize just how much of my time I''d spent outdoors in Casa do Dia?o''s outrageously brick weather as opposed to staying warm in my hotel room. I ain''t had a proper night''s sleep in what felt like a month. All this driving and searching was beginning to take its toll on me and my body was determined to make damn sure I knew it. However, I couldn''t allow myself to crack. I needed to find my place in the midst of this disastrous Broadway production. I''m gonna make it big in Casa do Dia?o or die trying. Besides, all this no sleeping business was good preparation for when Heidi has our baby. Can''t lament lost sleep when you rarely have it anyway, right?

    The very moment the glare of yellow-green light pierced my eyeballs, I turned off the main road and parked my snowmobile in front of the source. Like Leroy said, the poorly named piece of¡ªI mean ¡°O Pr¨ªncipe Modesto¡±¡ªwas a rather unimpressive looking establishment located in the middle of Butt-Fuck, Egypt. The size of the building reminded me of a large storage shed; bigger than the standard size of your typical garage, but smaller than most warehouses. Its exterior left much to be desired. The candy-apple red paint had mostly peeled itself off the building, revealing the ugly, chalky wall underneath. The title of the nightclub was written in hot pink paint over the entrance, aka a single wooden door.

    It looked like the joint sold several thousand doll¡ªerr...I mean fichas worth of white horse daily while fronting as a crappy Mexican restaurant. I mean hell, there wasn''t a single goddamn light-bulb on this building! If it weren''t for the neon ¡°OPEN¡± sign flashing behind the building, there ain''t no way I would''ve been able to spot this place in the dark! And you wanna know the saddest part about this entire situation? It still wasn''t too totally different from any of the rustic pits over in Oeste District.

    ¡°The hell you got me into, Leroy?¡± I muttered under my breath as I opened the door and stepped inside.

    The interior of the nightclub looked a whole hell of a lot better. The white marble walls were decorated with several pieces of modern mosaic artworks; most of them being naked women posing on couches or dinner tables. Victorian-styled chandeliers hung over the dance floor, though it appeared that somebody had modified them so they could paint the room with ultraviolet light. This was a smart move, in my opinion. Candles can only provide so much light and, I dunno about you, I''d personally like to see how the girl I''m dancing with looks; even if she''s hidden behind purple light at the time I''m eyeballing her. Dark light was better than no light, after all.

    Speaking of people, there was one thing I instantly noticed upon entering this nightclub. What that thing was, ladies and gentlemen, was that this joint attracted a specific group of individuals. These individuals, both male and female, wore their hair down to their asses. Everything on their bodies was colored pitch black¡ªwell, everything but their flesh; that shit was as pale as a ghost. Some people were covered from head to toe in tattoos while others had about seven or eight different piercings in their face. The clothes appeared to be tight-fitting, half of the outfits sporting chains either on their pants or around their necks. To top it all off, they all danced to Bauhaus playing loudly over the sound-system.

    I came to two different conclusions here. These guys were either vampires, or just apathetic goth kids. Considering none of them were freaking out over me¡ªa human¡ªwalking into their club, I assumed the latter was probably the more accurate explanation. And so I proceeded onward into the club while listening to Peter Murphy''s somber voice. Here was hoping I could figure out what the hell Leroy was referring to when he said ¡°meet me in the jacks¡±. Damn Irish and their fucking slang; good thing I never use slang.

    ¡°White on white translucent black capes, back on the rack...¡±

    Upon getting closer to the crowd, I noticed that the central heat was working well.

    I mean very well.

    To avoid sweating too much, I removed the scarf around my neck and stuffed it into my coat.

    ¡°Bela Lugosi''s dead, the bats have left the bell tower¡ª¡±

    I began to push through the crowd, hoping to find either Leroy or one of our mutual French buddies in the oddly non-ultraviolet lighted hallway just past the bar.

    ¡°¡ªthe victims have been bled red velvet lines, the black box...¡±

    Around the time of the lyric ¡°the black box¡±, some pale broad with a septum piercing was pushed¡ªor maybe thrown¡ªagainst my chest.

    ¡°Bela Lugosi''s dead...¡±

    Sure, one could write it off as an accident...but I knew better than that when she started stroking my stubble while seductively rubbing her ass against my crotch.

    ¡°Bela Lugosi''s dead...¡±

    I would''ve pulled away sooner, but I was caught off guard by her glow-in-the-dark contacts staring right into my eyes...

    ¡°Undead, undead, undead...¡±

    After a moment, I snapped back to reality.

    I was here to settle some business; not to dance.

    Besides, I already got somebody much prettier to do this sorta thing with at home.

    And so I pushed her away and continued onward.

    ¡°Undead! Undead! Undead! The virginal brides...¡±

    Once Peter began singing about flowers in deathly bloom, I finally managed to escape the dance floor. It only took one glance over at the moderately populated bar for me to see that no recognizable person of interest was enjoying a glass of cold piss-water. This told me one of two things: either I was late to the party, or Leroy''s stupid leprechaun-speak was referring to some other place. Okay, so I knew now to rule out the bar in my search for ¡°the jacks¡±. While I was at it, I decided to rule out the dance floor as well; unless Miss Bull Ring was a friend of his, I seriously doubted he wanted to discuss a game plan around a bunch of moody kids turned on by the color black.

    So what else was left?

    One of the designated smoking rooms?

    They do play games of ¡°Blackjack¡± there, so maybe the slang is just a play on words?

    Or perhaps it''s the back of the club?

    Back¡ªjack?

    Or maybe it was something completely unrelated like the goddamn shitter or something.

    Hmm...it was one of the only other rooms in this tiny joint¡­

    Going with my hunch, I stepped into the hallway and spotted the two stick-people doors. Upon entering the men''s room, my eyes felt like they were on fire. ¡°Agh¡ªfuckin'' Christ!¡± I growled after slapping my right forearm against my face. Who the hell was in charge of lighting this place? The club lobby had ultraviolet light, the hallway appeared to be lit in normal incandescent light, and then this fucking room was so bright that you could swear you were stepping into the sun. Goddamn LED lights...why? Why do you need this much light in a bathroom?! C''mon people, all you''re gonna do in a public restroom is either drain the pipes or take the Browns to the Superbowl; ain''t no motherfucking reason you need to risk losing your eyesight here!

    ¡°Sir? Is that you?¡±

    I heard Leroy''s voice, but refused to move my arm away from my eyes. ¡°Yeah yeah, I''m here. Where are you?¡± Using my other hand, I felt around the walls to see if I could find the light switch. Hey, this bastard made me drive all the way to this shithole by myself without so much as a simple explanation for it. Compare that to having just one conversation in the literal dark and you can see that I was being merciful in this. At least my hunch led me in the right direction.

    The sound of a single stall door swinging open and slamming against the wall rang in my ears. ¡°Aye, aren''t I glad it''s you this time! It got old having to explain m''self to all those¡ª¡± He stopped mid-sentence right around the time my fingertips barely kissed the light switch. My guess was that he caught me red-headed in the act of killing the ridiculous brightness of the room, but if you think for one second that that stopped me from flipping the damn switch, you''re dead wrong. Once the deed was done, I dropped my arm and opened my eyes. Ahh, sweet, dark bliss. Sure there were still some LEDs over at the sinks, but the distance made them less painful to look at. I don''t know if I''ll ever understand Casa do Dia?o''s bright light fetish.

    ¡°With all due respect, sir, you''re better off just letting your eyes adapt to the light. You aren''t going to go blind, I swear!¡± Leroy said with a lighthearted chuckle. He had taken off his scarf and unzipped his parka, revealing a gray t-shirt underneath. I glared at him, trying to ignore the colorful circles still floating around the room. ¡°Give me one reason not to snuff yah right in the fuckin'' jaw.¡± He crossed his arms, still grinning like an idiot. ¡°Maybe I just wanted to race you? See if I could beat you to the coppers? I see now that a garden snail could not only outrun you, but call his buds and have them beat you as well!¡±

    Yerp, we gotta joker here, folks.

    ¡°Hows ''bout I beat you now? Make it even?¡± I growled, getting up in his face. He stepped back, pressing his hand against my chest to keep me back. ¡°Calm down, I''m just taking the piss out of you is all!¡± I continued to grill him, not backing down. ¡°Then why did you give me the slip? Test my loyalty? Test my endurance?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°No sir. I just figured that we needed somebody here to make sure these poncy arseholes weren''t planning on setting up some kind of trap for us.¡± He then did a quick finger gesture, pointing at both himself and me. ¡°There''s only two of us, lad. There''s no telling how many of them will be waiting for us. I can control liquids...and in a place where beer¡ªa liquid¡ªis sold by the minute, I''d say my skill is pretty useful to our cause. You? I''m not too sure you can do much of anything other than fire a gun and throw a couple of punches. It''s best if the strongest of us goes to survey the area hours before the company is expected to arrive, just in case.¡±

    Is this punk calling me weak?

    You call a motherfucker who killed a regenerating zombie weak?!

    ¡°I''m perfectly capable of handlin'' myself, wiseguy. I doan need you to protect me like some kinda damsel in distress.¡± His grin widened, likely amused by my reaction. ¡°I know that, sir. Why do you think I allowed you to make the long drive by yourself? Sure, I cleared a path for you, but on an island where everybody has a trick up their sleeve, there wasn''t anyway of knowing that you''d actually get here in one piece. And seeing how you''re standing right in front of me at this very second, I''d say you''ve proven your mettle.¡± Leroy patted my left shoulder. ¡°Besides, it appears that you didn''t hear me when I said that I was coming here to make sure a trap wasn''t set up for us. That has nothing to do with how strong either of us are. Loosen up and ignore that chip on your shoulder, friend!¡±

    I snorted.

    I do not have a chip on my shoulder.

    Fuck you talking about?

    ¡°So...¡± I said, backing up a little, ¡°...any sign of our pals?¡± ¡°Not from I''ve seen, sir,¡± he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. ¡°I arrived a few hours before the club was supposed to open, so I waited around outside for the daars to open. Once business was up, I stayed at the bar and watched all the dark leather fetishists dance like their nana just died. As it got later, I made for the jacks and waited for you.¡± I squinted at him. ¡°You stood outside in the cold waitin'' for this shithole to open?¡± He held his hands up, shrugging. ¡°The weather doesn''t really bother me all that much. Does it you? I thought New Yarkers were okay with the cold. I hear the snowfall gets pretty bad this time o''year.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I smirked. ¡°It ain''t anythin'' close to the snowfall on this fuckin'' island, buddy. I''ll tell you that right now.¡± His hands returned to his pockets. ¡°I''ll take your word for it, si¡ª¡± I held my hand up, interrupting him before he could say the word for the millionth time since meeting me. ¡°Stop callin'' me ¡°sir¡±. Call me ¡°dude¡±, ¡°man¡±, or just fuckin'' anythin'' else.¡±

    Leroy smiled again. ¡°I''d rather call you by your first name, in all honesty.¡± My hands went into my pockets as I looked away from him. I knew this part was coming eventually, but it didn''t make it any less unpleasant for me. ¡°Gen...Gene.¡± He crossed his arms. ¡°You sure that''s your real name? You don''t sound very convincing.¡± Buddy, it''s a whole helluva lot more convincing than my actual name. ¡°It''s Gene. Short for Eugene.¡± He sighed, seeing right through me like glass. ¡°Sir, we need to be able to trust each other if we''re going to be warking together to face these gangsters. You know my name already; it''s not fair that I''m exposed to you while you keep getting to hide behind a mask.¡±

    Now it was my turn to sigh.

    He was right.

    He was right and I knew it.

    Fuck me, why couldn''t this guy be dense like everyone else?

    So I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye, preparing the inevitable wisecracks. ¡°...Genghis¡­¡± I forced out through clenched teeth, ¡°...Genghis Dillinger Boy.¡± Luckily, I didn''t hear any immediate laughter after saying my name out loud. Instead, Leroy just nodded and offered a reassuring smile. ¡°Your parents must''ve been an interesting breed.¡±

    That earned a big ol'' snort from me.

    ¡°If you call workin'' as a mechanic for twenty years interestin''.¡± He chuckled weakly. ¡°Maybe not to you, but to somebody. I can''t even remember what my parents did for a living.¡± I gave him an uneasy smirk. ¡°I know.¡± To that, Leroy didn''t respond. We instead gave each other a look that spoke a whole bunch of unspoken words between us. Words of understanding, words of condolence, words of mutual respect. What we were to each other became abundantly clear to me at that moment in time.

    Ever since the day I reached out to him in that alleyway, we must''ve had some kind of spiritual connection between us. I didn''t understand how it worked nor will I ever quite understand it, but somehow I was able to communicate with him as an adult during a time when the both of us were little boys. This led to him growing up and reaching out to me; fifteen years in the making for him, but completely out of nowhere for me. And despite only having a few conversations with each other, we were both still able to get each other without saying too many words regarding our strange history; mind you, Heidi was the only other person I could do this with.

    We stayed like this for a minute or two, ending the conversation with a smile on both of our faces.

    ¡°Well then, why don¡ª¡±

    Leroy was interrupted by the sudden ringing of his cell phone.

    He flashed me a wide grin.

    ¡°Time for a little smoke on the water?¡±

    I waggled my eyebrows.

    ¡°Fire in the sky, Leroy. Fire in the sky.¡±

    ¡­

    The two of us waited in the back of the nightclub for an hour. Besides a couple of dumpsters, the gig had a couple yards of free space protected by a ten-foot-tall metal fence. The weather was a bit brick, but we didn''t care. Leroy kept his blood pumping by doing warm-up exercises; one-handed push-ups, jumping jacks, some limb stretches¡ªthe works. As for me, I lit up a cigarette and paced back and forth while mentally psyching myself up.

    You might be thinking, ¡°Ain''t it a better idea to do what he''s doin'', Genghis? After all, you''re about to get into a huge rumble with these guys.¡± True, we are going to be fighting some tough dudes in a little while. True, you need to be physically prepared to take these bozos out. However, your muscles ain''t shit if you ain''t got the correct mindset.

    Think about it for a hot minute, will you? You got two guys about to square off. One guy is pumped so full of steroids that he ain''t seen his cock in a week. He''s pissed off, but lacks the mental capacity required to understand that anger alone is not enough to win a fight. On the other hand, you have a guy who ain''t quite as muscular as Captain No-Nuts, but has major beef with his opponent for whatever reason. Whether the hulking freakshow stole his girl or simply stepped on his toes one too many times, this guy is out for blood. He''s fantasized about all the different ways he can hurt this sonuvabitch and knows damn well that any one of those methods are fair game in a street fight. Tell me, who do you think is gonna win: the roided up gorilla who only really knows how to scream and flail his fists around like a spastic retard, or the lunatic who ain''t afraid to play dirty?

    I hope you all unanimously voted for the lunatic in this scenario.

    Otherwise, I gotta wonder what kinda fantasy world you live in where brawn trumps brains on a daily basis.

    Besides, I needed some kind of edge to help me against these super-powered freaks. As much as I didn''t want to admit it, Leroy was right. Other than my lovely Myra, all I had to bring to this brawl was my raw strength. And, quite frankly, no amount of exercise was gonna help me out here. If I was gonna win this without having to rely on Leroy''s bullshit water powers, my mind needed to be clear.

    Well...not crystal clear maybe...but clear enough for me to focus.

    Thinking is hard sometimes, you know?

    Our fair weather friends finally made their presence known in the middle of me smoking my second cigarette within the hour. They decided to arrive through the open back as opposed to entering through the gloom and doom parade inside the club. From the distance, there appeared to be around six of them. However, I wasn''t gonna be surprised if more snakes came slithering our way whenever the going got tough. After all, they were messing with some real rugged sons-of-bitches tonight.

    Once the Frenchies got close enough, I noticed that they were all wearing hoods. Not culty ¡°sacrifice your first newborn to Satan¡± type of hoods, but hooded jackets baggy enough to sag down to their kneecaps. Even the hoods themselves were too large for them¡ªcovering almost the entirety of their faces. I understood that these poncies were trying to look tough for our rumble, but I couldn''t help but snicker at their fashion choice. ¡°''Ay Leroy, think these fuckwads can actually see the goddamn fence in front of them?¡± I said while my cancer stick was hanging from my lips. ¡°I''m hoping they walk into it,¡± my partner responded, chuckling.

    Sadly, they all noticed the fence and climbed over it. Me and Leroy watched in silence as they did it. They eventually approached us, stopping about four feet away. I took one final drag on my smoke and dropped it onto the ground, stamping it out with my boot. ¡°You''re late. Those hoods make it hard to see where you''re goin''?¡±

    Instead of acknowledging my remark verbally, our opponents instead removed their hoods and revealed their faces. One was a pretty redhead; presumably Miss Amelia. The other five were men; three of them being familiar faces. Two of those faces were the bozos ranting about me in the alleyway the other day.

    The third was an especially familiar face for both me and Leroy.

    However, I was having a hard time understanding why he was here.

    The last time I saw him, he was covered with icy rain spikes.

    ...

    My eyebrow cocked upwards.

    Leroy dropped to his knees, fear written in his face.

    ¡°Well well. What do we ''ave ''ere?¡±

    He had long brown hair, white dress pants underneath his jacket, shiny black oxfords, bags under his eyes and thick mutton chops.

    Minus the ugly scars on his face from him and Leroy''s last encounter, Louis Couture didn''t look a day older than he had back in 1974.

    ¡­

    ¡°H-H...How? How are you standing there? How are you not dead?!¡± Leroy exclaimed. Louis gave him a wide, toothy grin. ¡°You are not ze only one who knows a few magic tricks, Mister Leroy Barris.¡± The French gangster held his arms out, eyes glittering in the moonlight. ¡°You Americans are all ze same. Coming to Casa do Dia?o and zinking you can take over what is mine. After decades of making a name for myself in zis foreign land, I ''ave acquired so much power zat even death itself cannot ''old me back!¡±

    Leroy was shaking.

    I could only imagine the influx of emotions poking into his noggin like a syringe.

    ¡°My parents just wanted to start over!¡± he shouted angrily, ¡°They didn''t come to Casa do Dia?o to challenge you! You murdered two innocent people, Louis!¡± The smug sonuvabitch cackled in an obnoxiously high pitch. ¡°You truly believe zat? Do you ''onestly believe your mother and father wouldn''t of attempted to stand against me sooner or later?¡±

    He stepped toward Leroy, kneeling down to his level. ¡°Your motherland is a nation rich with violent ''istory and pious ramblings about ''ow free you are!¡± He put his palm against Leroy''s cheek, cupping his face. ¡°But your freedom ''as always been a myth, young Leroy. You Americans ''ave always been shackled by your own greed; whereas I, ze one and only Louis Couture of Caen, France, ''ave greatly surpassed ze inner burdens of ze average white man and ''ave risen to ze top of Oeste District''s crime syndicate.¡±

    Riiight.

    A man who pulls a gun on a preschooler taking a piss is certainly somebody who would know a thing or two about overcoming greed.

    ¡°What about me then? Why did you try to kill me?¡± The Frenchman stood up. ¡°You''re an American, are you not? Zat''s a good enough excuse for me.¡± Leroy stood up and screamed his next words. ¡°I was a child, Louis¡ªa little boy! What reason could I have possibly had to try undermining your operation?!¡± Louis smirked. ¡°You were a loose end. I zought maybe you''d die on ze streets before too long. When I saw you in zat alleyway, still alive as you were ze day I left you, I knew I needed to remedy my error lest you grow up ''ungry for my blood.¡±

    I snorted loudly, sick and tired of listening to this Frenchman''s annoying voice.

    ¡°Boy, it must suck losin'' that necromancer of yours, then. Not only did a little kid ice your ass fifteen years ago, but now nobody will be able to bring you back after that kid ices you again.¡± Louis looked over at me, grilling holes through me. ¡°Indeed, I ''ave come to understand zat you are responsible for Gustave''s death.¡± I put my hands on my hips, flashing him the biggest, shittiest grin I could muster up. ¡°There was nothin'' to it! Even broke that one loser''s neck back at your base!¡±

    That earned me a good ''ol snarl from him. ¡°And you ''elped yourself to my favorite coat and ''at, I see.¡± I ran a hand down my chest, winking at the Frenchman. ¡°Like it? My girl thinks it makes me look like one of those noir detectives from the 1940''s. Drives her wild, man; gotta thank yah for the generous donation.¡±

    He spit on the ground. ¡°Filthy pig! You will pay for your insolence!¡± I popped my knuckles. ¡°Then why doan you shut up and show me a little magic trick, then?¡± He lunged at me, but Leroy tackled him onto the ground before he could reach me. Once that happened, Louis'' lackeys all rushed toward us¡ªrather, toward me.

    Uh-uh; we ain''t having that shit.

    I whipped out Myra and quickly fired two shots. One went through the fat-alleyway goon''s head, killing him instantly. Remind me again, wasn''t this the guy bitching about a ¡°mortal man¡± killing Gustave? Seems to me like this guy was talking out his ass much like the so-called ¡°powerful necromancer¡± was. But I digress.

    The other bullet went for his skinny prick of a friend...but was deflected by a shiny force field. Ah, so he''s got those kinda powers. Cheap motherfucker. At least there''s only five of them now, right?

    Amelia leaped over Leroy and Louis and tackled me onto the ground, knocking the fedora off my head. ¡°Better play fair, creep!¡± she shouted in a...surprisingly American sounding accent; mid-western like Paul Sadler. She tried to pry the revolver outta my hand, but let go when I bit her hand as hard as I could. The redhead wailed about the pain in her pretty little hand and I pistol whipped her offa me.

    Meanwhile, Leroy and Louis were really doing a number on each other. The two men were rolling all around the ground, throwing punches like there was no tomorrow. Leroy had managed to open old wounds on the French gangster''s face while sporting a busted lip and nose of his own. I had a feeling that if Louis wasn''t the boss of these guys, Leroy would''ve already killed most of them with his abilities. But alas, the keyword here was ¡°if¡±.

    For the time being, Leroy Barris saw nothing but his parents soaking in a large pool of blood.

    So while he dealt with the demon from his past, it was my job to watch his back. In order to do that, I had to take out these other bozos before they took us out. After Amelia was knocked out by the butt of my gun, The Amazing Spirit Cocoon and his two pals split off. The two nameless goons both attacked Leroy while the protected coward himself lunged at me. The first thing I did when he got in my face was kick him in the balls. Hey, what else can I fucking do to this guy? My bullets ain''t nothing to his retarded force field!

    Luckily for me, my foot was good enough to incapacitate him¡ªat least for a little while.

    While he was down, I took the opportunity to go stop Louis and his men from triple-teaming Leroy. I grabbed a hold of a some tall dude...only for him to suddenly turn his head around. And I mean completely around¡ªlike ¡°I ain''t got a fuckin'' spine¡± type of completely around. Before I could properly react, he headbutted me hard. I knelt down, pressing my palm against my forehead.

    ¡°Genghis!¡± came Leroy''s voice from within the pile of men. Yeah man, I know¡ªI''m on my way. I stood back up and yanked on Colonel Backboneless'' arm. Once he was against my chest, I let go of him and wrapped my arm around his neck, putting him in a headlock. ¡°Va te faire foutre!¡± the Frenchman barked as I pulled him away from the others. He put up quite the struggle, but was ultimately ended once Myra pressed her lips against his head and kissed him goodbye. Once the blood splattered out of his head and the life in his eyes disappeared, I let him fall onto the ground. Sorry buddy; maybe you shoulda left your brain at home instead of your spine.

    I then took two seconds to open up Myra''s cylinder.

    Five rounds loaded.

    Used three.

    Two bullets left.

    Bet your ass I''m loading my girl up with all six rounds once she''s empty.

    No more playing it safe.

    After closing her back up, I was shoved onto the ground. I quickly got to my knees and turned to look at my attacker. That''s when my eyes were bestowed upon a rather horrific sight. The fat goon that I shot¡ªthe one I thought I killed? Yeah, he was now standing over me...cradling his decapitated head in his left arm. You know, I only fired a bullet through his skull¡ªthat''s it. I didn''t¡­

    No Genghis, don''t get woozy thinking about how that head came off his body; now ain''t the time for that.

    ¡°Est-ce le meilleur que vous pouvez faire, sale graisseur?¡± the decapitated head taunted in a sing-songy tone of voice. Focus, Genghis...focus. I swallowed hard and shoved Myra''s barrel against his abdomen. He threw a punch that hit my jaw just as I pulled the trigger, filling his stomach up with lead. The bastard socked me hard enough to make me bite down on my tongue...hard. You bet that hurt like a bitch. After spitting some of my blood into the palm of my hand, I looked over at the headless freak and saw that the shot had knocked him down. Of course, I doubted that he''d stay down long. And so, with one shot left in my revolver, I jumped on top of the French motherfucker. I then pressed the barrel against his heart and pulled the trigger.

    Shot through the heart.

    And I''m to blame.

    ...you''re welcome for the earworm, ladies and gentlemen.

    ¡°Guns are for cowards!¡± came Amelia''s voice again, catching me by surprise as she tackled me onto the ground yet again. Seriously, what was with these guys and tackling people? Are we playing football or something? And this was the second time now that Miss Amelia had me pinned down. You know, I never thought I''d see the day where I was unhappy about an attractive woman sitting on top of me.

    Just saying.

    After hitting the ground, I accidentally let go of Myra and let her drop next to me. The redhead then started to backhand me repeatedly in the face. ¡°Says the lady hangin'' around a bunch of super-powered French zombies!¡± I growled, grabbing her waist in the attempt to push her off. ¡°Fuck you!¡± she responded, spitting in my face.

    Feisty broad, ain''t she?

    Too bad she was about to be thrown off that high horse of hers.

    ¡°That the best you got, bitch?!¡± Amelia screamed and raised her hand up to hit me again, but stopped whenever my hands wrapped themselves around her throat. Her eyes widened, emitting a bunch of rasps through her constricted airways. I squeezed hard, slowly over-powering her enough to eventually find myself on top of her.

    ¡°Say goodnight, Princess,¡± I sang while pressing my thumbs into her trachea. She wheezed and gasped, desperately trying to escape. However, my thighs were pressed tightly against her legs, trapping her on the ground. Now, I ain''t the kinda guy to assume all women were physically weak creatures...but this broad would have to be pretty damn strong to lift my two hundred and ten pound ass off her body.

    Just as Amelia was beginning to black out, I was suddenly knocked off her whenever some hard object hit me in the back of the skull. Next thing I knew, I was being viciously pummeled by the faggot with the force field and the faceless goon that had formally been helping Louis keep Leroy at bay. It didn''t take long for Amelia to get back to her feet and join in on the beat-down. ¡°¨¦carte ses jambes, les gar?ons!¡± the pretty gangster shouted at her boys.

    You guys already know that I don''t know really any French words.

    But I''m fairly sure ¡°¨¦carte ses jambes, les gar?ons!¡± means ¡°Kick him repeatedly in the nuts!¡±

    Why do I say this?

    Oh, no reason...other than these guys suddenly grabbing my legs, spreading them, and then taking turns stomping my dick.

    For a short time, I had become a tenor¡ªmaybe a countertenor.

    Oh yeah, we''re talking ¡°posh, middle-aged English lady¡± tone here.

    Fucking OW.

    ¡°LEROY!¡± I screeched in quite possibly the sissiest voice to ever come out of my vocal chords. I''d request all of you to not judge me here, but all you dudes reading this already perfectly understand just how painful this shit was. It don''t matter if you''re the biggest pacifist on the planet or just as rugged of a sonuvabitch as I am, chances are really high that you''ve been hit in the testicles at least once in your life. And always¡ªalways¡ªit will be one of the worst physical pains you feel that ain''t related to broken bones or other injuries like gunshots and knife wounds.

    To all you women out there...consider yourselves lucky.

    Thankfully, Leroy managed to ignore Louis for just long enough to notice I was in a bind. Before these losers knew it, my super-powered friend summoned these strange blood spikes and shot them straight toward us. One spike went right through the unnamed gangster, killing him instantly. The other guy made his force field return, but Leroy''s bloody spike broke through it and pierced his heart. Amelia was unharmed from the attack, as she had hid behind the cheap motherfucker and used him as a meat shield.

    Four down, two to go.

    I assumed the redhead was left speechless by Leroy''s powers or something...considering nobody seemed to take advantage of me while I was in my temporary, but still fragile state. That was fine by me; it allowed me to roll over and watch the final moments of Leroy and Louis'' big brawl. By this point, both men were bloody messes. The Frenchman''s face was completely covered in red, teeth stained with his life essence. Leroy, on the other hand, had more blood on his arms than he did his face; my guess was that he''d been wiping his face clean every time he regained control of the fight. The men were no longer wrestling with each other on the ground, but were now on their feet and having a rather intense stare-down with each other.

    ¡°Time to die, you filthy animal,¡± Louis grunted, only now pulling out his pistol. Why did he wait this long to do that? He could''ve easily won this fight already if he hadn''t! Stupid, stupid man. ¡°C''mon, Leroy! Take this French pussy out!¡± I shouted, finally working to push myself off the ground. My friend looked over at me and winked. Next thing Louis Couture knew, Leroy slapped the gun out of his hand and wrapped his hand around his throat. The Frenchman tried to defend himself, but was unable to escape his own blood now stabbing his face like an acid bath. ¡°M¨¨re de Dieu! ¨¦pargnez-moi de ce destin!¡± were Louis'' last words before Leroy spat out another blood spike, piercing through the gangster''s throat.

    He let go and allowed him to drop to the cold ground, dead for the second and final time in his sad, pathetic life.

    ¡°Great job, Le¡ª¡± I was interrupted by somebody suddenly shoving me back onto the ground. ¡°You son of a bitch! I''ll kill you both for this!¡± came the livid voice of Amelia, who had now decided to return to the land of the living. The first thing I noticed when I looked at her was that she had grabbed Myra from off the ground and pointed her in my face.

    Oh, this was going to be amusing.

    ¡°What happened to ¡°guns are for cowards¡±, baby?¡± I asked her, flashing her a smug grin. The broad was shaking in anger. ¡°A coward like you deserves a coward''s death!¡± she screamed. Amelia pulled the hammer back on the gun and pressed the barrel against my forehead. ¡°Say goodnight, Prince,¡± she said, mimicking my sing-song tone from earlier.

    She pulled the trigger.

    Click!

    No bang.

    I laughed wickedly at her feeble attempt at killing me. ¡°The tank is all dried up, sweetheart! Completely outta gas!¡± Amelia pulled the trigger a few more times, desperately trying to make it shoot. ¡°Dammit!¡± she shouted, raising her arm up to chuck my gun over the fence. Of course, I wasn''t about to let that happen; nobody tosses my baby around like a rag-doll. I kicked her right knee cap, which stopped her from tossing the gun. After kicking her in the other knee, she fell to the ground, dropping Myra beside her.

    ...

    I returned to my feet and stood over the pretty redhead.

    Once she sat up, I flashed her another smug grin just before crouching down to pick my revolver up.

    ¡°You know, Genghis Dillinger Boy,¡± came Leroy''s voice from behind me, ¡°I think you and I will have a real craic working together.¡±

    ¡°Craic¡±?

    The fuck was that?

    ¡°I doan know what that means,¡± I responded, not looking away from Amelia, ¡°but I''m guessin'' it''s a good thing?¡±

    He chuckled.

    ¡°Yes, friend. It''s a good thing.¡±

    I returned the chuckle.

    ¡°In that case, I agree one hundred percent.¡±

    I pistol whipped Amelia in the skull and watched her lose consciousness.

 Chapter Fifteen Point Two: The Unnamed Entity

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°Both of my arms have large gashes, blood shading in the paleness of my flesh. Is this all I am anymore? A fleshy canvas, recycled time and time again for the Vincent Van Gogh that lives in my head? Can I be the artist for once?¡±

    ¡­

    Crazed, hopeless thoughts roared inside the head of Jeffrey Hopkins as the strong liquor poured down his esophagus. The twenty-five year old was on his third glass of bourbon in the span of one hour. Or was it at the hour and a half mark now? Sal hadn''t been doing a good job at checking the clock whenever Jeffrey asked for the time. All the bastard would do was shrug and grunt something along the lines of ¡°Not closing time, yet.¡±

    Oh boy, another introduction. And this one''s a drunk slob. Awesome.

    Now, it wasn''t that Jeffrey was ungrateful to Sal or anything. The guy was a great bartender; he always got Jeffrey exactly what he asked for and never once told him to chill out on the booze. It just sometimes irked him how lazy he was. Sal knew that Jeffrey couldn''t read very well whenever he was hitting the bottle, so why not be a pal and help a guy out when his eyes weren''t working right?

    Oh no, Sal''s got the right idea. He knows your stupid ass won''t listen to him, so he''s tryin'' to wean you off the piss-water another way; by forcin'' you to sober up so you can tell time like an actual adult again.

    Of course, it didn''t really matter how many glasses of bourbon Jeffrey had downed that night; not truly. Booze or no booze, the fact remained that he was having these horrifying thoughts in his head regardless. One could ask him why he felt the way he did, but what difference would that make? If a man is walking down Clifton Avenue one night and suddenly gets shot by a stranger, nearby witnesses won''t be screaming ¡°Why did this happen?!¡± while running around like chickens with their heads chopped off. Instead, they''ll be screaming, ¡°Help! This man just got shot! Call 911!¡± People don''t care about the whys or hows of situations; only the whats.

    The same applied to the wild clutter inside Jeffrey Hopkins'' head. All that mattered to the young man was that these thoughts were, in fact, there. And quite frankly, there was no hope of them ever escaping from the complex bear-trap known as his mind. Though, one had to wonder if they could really blame Jeffrey for feeling the way he felt. After all, he wasn''t spouting any lies nor was he seeing things that weren''t there.

    The gashes in his arms.

    The blood shading in his flesh.

    They were all there, present as the glass in his trembling hand.

    And so long as the blood didn''t leak from the sleeves of his denim jacket, his secret was safe.

    Um.

    True, an outsider would primarily care about the very much concrete injuries the young man had sustained. However, what the garbage man failed to realize was that there actually was a why and how waiting to be addressed...and neither of them involved his rambling thoughts regarding a metaphorical Vincent Van Gogh. The big why was, ¡°Why aren''t you telling somebody about these cuts?¡± And, of course, the more burning how was, ¡°How did you get these cuts in the first place?¡±

    Yeah, exactly!

    In the case that somebody had discovered his secret and proceeded to ask these questions, Jeffrey mentally prepared some cop-outs. For the first question, he could say something like, ¡°I got bandages at home. If worse comes to worst, I''ll go get stitches.¡± For all it was worth, this answer was perfectly reasonable in the economic sense. Ohio hospitals¡ªor really any American hospital, for that matter¡ªhad the tendency to overcharge patients for even the quickest services. And while Jeffrey made decent enough money, his insurance could only help so much when dealing not only with the doctors, but also the blood-sucking ticks known as the pharmaceutical company. So really, what was another scar or two for the twenty-five year old? They weren''t the first scars he ever got and they certainly wouldn''t be the last.

    As for the second question, he could look at his interrogator and say one of two things. One thing could be, ¡°Oh, you know. Some entitled asshole threw away this gigantic mirror today¡ªthrew it right into this empty dumpster reflection first! And since it''s my job to collect everybody''s unwanted shit, I tried to lift this heavy sonuvabitch and ended up slicing my arms on the broken shards that came off it. People, man; they''ll throw away just about anything!¡± The other, shorter answer was simply, ¡°I don''t know, man. Just one of those knicks and scratches that happen out of nowhere!¡±

    As one might suspect, one answer was completely false while the other was only partially true.

    And judging by the particular thoughts roaming inside Jeffrey Hopkins'' head, it didn''t take much digging to figure out which answer was which.

    Lemme guess, you''re one of those black-out drunks who does alotta stupid shit and can''t remember any of it when you wake up?

    When Jeffrey walked into Sal''s bar that night, the bartender had looked at his most loyal customer and snickered. ¡°You look like hammered shit, Jeffy. I dunno if I should even bother servin'' you any of my delicious liver-killers tonight!¡± The garbage man just flicked some of his black, shoulder-length hair away from his face and ordered a tall glass of bourbon. Sal, never able to say no to an extra buck or two, nodded and served the drink without any arguments.

    Once the young man focused all of his attention onto his first drink of the night, the bartender watched him while pretending to be busy cleaning some empty glasses. He never said anything, but Sal did care about the well-being of his patrons¡ªwell, the ones that were good about paying him, anyway. And while Sal''s jab was presented in a playful tone of voice, there was certainly truth to his words.

    Most twenty-somethings that stumbled into his bar were either irresponsible college brats who were dodging their studies in order to have some fun, or were just young blood out with a date or colleague. Jeffrey Hopkins, on the other hand, always came in alone. Never once in the four years he''d been frequenting this dive had he ever brought a friend, a co-worker, or a girl with him. And every time Jeffrey came in, he always had a glum look on his heavily scarred face; telling the middle-aged Argentinian that he wasn''t there to do anything remotely related to partying.

    And guess what? Sal was right. Jeffrey Hopkins was never in a partying mood nor did he know anybody that he wished to spend extra time with after work; platonic or otherwise. Yes, the bartender had known many men like him over the years. Each patron that entered his bar all came with their own life stories. After doing the same job for as many years as he had, one typically learns the many subtle things people do that unintentionally reveal things about themselves. However, there were two things Sal wasn''t aware of regarding his scruffy, battle-scarred regular.

    The only thing Jeffrey remembered from the day was receiving a transmission from dispatch while he was on his usual route. That was at 11:25 A.M. Next thing the garbage man knew, he was waking up next to a dumpster at half past seven. He''d lost an entire shift. Jeffrey had only been awake for five minutes before he took a step into Sal''s bar.

    And that, along with the wounds under his sleeves, was going to remain Jeffery¡¯s little secret. In all honesty, the young man felt that he and everybody around him was better off that way. When he was alone, nobody could look down on him or fail to understand the woes he was dealing with. And with each drink he ingested, all Jeffrey could do in the silence of his drunken stupor was reflect on just how his life had become this messed up.

    Well, somebody obviously wants me to know all about it; otherwise I wouldn''t of been dragged here in the first place.

    ¡­

    Up until he was eight years old, Jeffrey Hopkins had been a fairly normal child. He hated going to school, but loved horsing around with his buddies during recess. Like most rambunctious children, Jeffrey often found himself getting scolded by his teacher for either talking without raising his hand first, or interrupting her while she was giving her lesson. And, also like most children, he always got huffy about it and swore up and down his teacher was personally singling him out. Did he ever have proof to back up his accusations? No...but he certainly felt like his suspicions were correct and that''s all that really mattered, right?

    Facts. Ain''t nothin'' wrong with followin'' your gut every now and then. It''s called intuition.

    During his free time, Little Jeffrey and his pals played lots and lots of baseball together. While he was never the best batter, he did prove to be quite the gifted pitcher. Any time Jeffrey''s turn to pitch came up, his friends would all panic. ¡°He throws way too fast!¡± they''d all bitterly proclaim each time he effortlessly struck them out. Sure, they sometimes got lucky and managed to hit a ball he tossed, but they were never able to get an actual home run on him.

    The boy often bragged to his dad about his victories, saying that he''d one day be just as good as Gary Nolan of the Cincinnati Reds. His father would always smile and pat his son on the shoulder. ¡°I don''t doubt that for a second, champ. You keep it up and you may be better than Gary Nolan ever was!¡± Mister Hopkins was a good man. He never once discouraged Jeffrey from doing something he wanted to do. He was his son''s number one fan and the boy felt like he could conquer the world with all of the support his father gave him.

    But on one chilly September evening, all of that hope, support, and normalcy was snatched away from Jeffrey Hopkins in a cruel twist of fate.

    Call it a hunch, but I''m guessin'' he died?

    What started out as a fun night watching The Aristocats somehow turned into him sitting in a dark closet while a group of thugs brutally murdered his mother and father.

    Yerp, I knew it.

    The grisly encounter began with a strange noise Mister Hopkins had heard coming from outside the house. The thirty-one year old man paused the movie so that he could possibly make heads or tails of what he was hearing. Little Jeffrey attempted to protest the sudden interruption in his film, but was quickly silenced by his mother pressing her index finger against his lips. After listening for a moment, Mister Hopkins eventually heard the tell-tale sound of somebody jiggling the knob on the backdoor. ¡°Rita, grab Jeffrey and hide!¡± he commanded while hurrying to grab his old Smith & Wesson Model 52. Doing as her husband said, the boy''s mother took him to the master bedroom and instructed him to hide in the closet. ¡°Be very quiet and do not come out until we say it''s okay. Do you understand?¡± Jeffrey nodded and the door was closed, leaving him all alone in the dark.

    A few seconds became a few minutes. A few minutes became several minutes. And several minutes soon became irrelevant once the sound of gunfire echoed throughout the Hopkins household. ¡°Motherfucker!¡± an unknown voice bellowed, followed by another gunshot. Immediately afterward was a minute or two of crashing around and incoherent yelling.

    Just as Jeffrey began to assume that his dad was winning the fight, his mom let out a blood-curdling scream. The little boy began to let out a scream of his own, but stopped himself by slapping his palms against his mouth. It was one thing to disobey his teacher whenever she told him to be quiet, but his mother was another story entirely. When his teacher punished him, all he got was a stern talking to. When Mama Bear punished him, however, he lost his TV privileges for a solid week. And seeing how bad things were looking for him right now, he knew he had to keep quiet lest he get himself hurt by these thugs...or he face extreme boredom without his cartoons; whichever came first.

    That statement is only half true, kiddo. You see, you can''t lose your cartoons when you doan got a mom to take them away from you. If you ask me, I''d say you got a pretty sweet deal here.

    ¡°Shut up, bitch!¡± shouted another voice that was immediately followed by a loud slapping noise as well as a loud yelp from Missus Hopkins. Tears ran down Little Jeffrey''s cheeks. What was going on? His dad was armed. Two gunshots were fired already. Shouldn''t the bad guys be dead by now?

    But then, just as the child was ready to give up hope, a voice spoke to him. He didn''t know who the voice belonged to or where it was coming from, but he did as it asked and closed his eyes. ¡°Do you trust me, Jeffrey Hopkins?¡± The boy swallowed hard, not entirely sure how to respond to the strange entity. ¡°A-Are...are you God?¡± the child finally managed to whisper quietly.

    ¡°No,¡± responded the voice, ¡°but I do his work. I bring justice to evil-doers who reject his word. Like the criminals invading your home.¡± Jeffrey sniffled, wiping his damp eyes. ¡°Who are you?¡± The voice chuckled. ¡°My name is of no importance to the innocent, Jeffrey. Only my enemies ever need to know who I am and what I''m all about.¡±

    The child was confused, but something about the entity''s words soothed the fear he was feeling. ¡°Can you help me? Can you save Mom and Dad?¡± The voice was silent for about a minute before he answered the boy''s questions. ¡°I cannot promise that your mother and father will be saved, but I can promise that those men will face God''s unforgiving wrath for the crimes they''ve committed. All you have to do is trust me and just keep walking.¡±

    Yeah, let''s trust the weird voice that claims to do God''s work, yet doesn''t wanna lift a finger to save your folks. He really sounds like a trustworthy and reliable dude.

    While Jeffrey wasn''t completely satisfied with that answer, he knew he had no choice but to agree to the entity''s terms. What else could he do? Just sit around and wait for these criminals to find him? The boy had to do something¡ªanything!

    Doan do it, kid.

    And so Jeffrey Hopkins surrendered himself to this strange servant of God.

    You motherfuckers never listen to me, I swear.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± the voice whispered one last time before suddenly sending the child into a deep sleep.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡­

    It began with flashbacks from much simpler times.

    Times Jeffrey played with his friends.

    Times he blew out the candles on his birthday cake.

    Times he begged his mom and dad for a little brother.

    The memories played in front of him like an old film that had recently been colorized.

    The child smiled wide, anxious to break through the imaginary barrier between him and the happy days.

    The movie ended once Jeffrey made the mistake of blinking.

    Then he found himself standing on an evenly paved street.

    Though, he couldn''t see anything else due to the fog covering the sidewalks.

    ¡°Hello? Is anybody out there?¡±

    Only his echo responded to his call.

    After a quick look around, the child realized that he was completely alone.

    No cars threatening to mow him down.

    No adults to tell him to get off the road.

    Nothing but heavy fog and a clear path.

    ¡°All you have to do is trust me and just keep walking.¡±

    With no other options, Jeffrey proceeded forward.

    He didn''t know where he was or where he was going, but he hoped he''d find something¡ªor someone.

    And so he walked.

    And walked.

    And walked.

    ¡°Just keep walking.¡±

    Jeffrey felt like he''d walked for days, but the light around him never changed¡ªnot once.

    Had time stopped?

    The child knew he could be impatient at times, but this?

    This was something else!

    This road never ended!

    The Ohio native was so close to giving up, but he knew he couldn''t.

    He needed to find his way to the happy days; find his way back home to his loving parents.

    He couldn''t stop now!

    So he continued.

    Onward and onward.

    Right foot, left foot.

    Right foot, left foot.

    Eventually, Jeffrey began developing a rather painful, non-ethereal feeling in his legs.

    Why did his body choose now to start feeling the effects of this outrageous stroll down Nowhere Lane?

    As desperate as he was to continue onward, his legs could no longer support him.

    And so the child fell face first onto the road.

    ¡­

    You think people will ever stop takin'' offers from demons? No? Me neither.

    ¡­

    ¡°Kmengobrosa kraok laeng! Phnheak pi keng!¡±

    Whether it was the heat, the sharp rocks, or the sweaty palms grasping his shoulders that woke him up, Jeffrey Hopkins wasn''t entirely sure. The young boy''s mind felt like mush after walking in an empty void for what easily felt like thousands of miles. And after hearing the strange language being shouted at him, Jeffrey half-suspected that he was still dreaming. That, or he''d been abducted by aliens¡ªwho really knew? Once he gathered enough energy to open his eyes and observe his surroundings, however, one thing did become abundantly clear.

    Night had become day.

    Indoors had become outdoors.

    Cincinnati suddenly had more woodlands.

    A stone temple had been built off in the distance seemingly overnight.

    And English had been replaced with something else.

    In conclusion, either the end of the world had happened while he was asleep, or he was somewhere he shouldn''t of been.

    No. Shit.

    ¡°La, anak phnheak!¡± The little boy looked up at the individual who had found him. It was an older boy, probably the same age as the high schoolers in his neighborhood who spent most of the day either smoking or bullying younger kids out of their lunch money. He had short black hair, tan skin, and brown slanted eyes.

    ¡°Tae anak batbng?¡± Jeffrey tilted his head in confusion. ¡°I''m sorry. What?¡± The stranger just made a noise like he didn''t understand. ¡°I...I don''t know what you''re saying.¡± The older boy raised an eyebrow and repeated himself a bit more slowly. ¡°Tae...anak...batbng?¡± Of course, Jeffrey still had no clue as to what he was saying.

    The Ohio native swallowed hard and held his arms out. ¡°Look, where am I?¡± Jeffrey asked, gesturing towards the trees around them. ¡°I-I don''t know how I got here. Can you hel¡ª¡± Before he could finish his sentence, the stranger suddenly grabbed his right hand and gasped loudly. ¡°Chheam! Anak kampoung haurchham!¡±

    Reasonably startled, the younger boy''s eyes widened and his breath shortened. ¡°H-Hey! Lego of me!¡± Jeffrey tried to pull away from the older boy''s grip, but was unsuccessful. ¡°Kom tsaou! Anak trauvkar kroupety!¡± ¡°Let go!¡± the child screamed as he began kicking at the stranger''s gut.

    After a moment of struggling, Jeffrey finally managed to yank his hand away...and almost immediately spotted what had the older boy so concerned. His forearm was covered in black and blue and scattered skin tears occupied his knuckle bones, covered with old blood. After turning his hand over, he saw more dried maroon caked onto his palm. ¡°Wh-Why is this here?¡± But he didn''t need his new friend''s answer, for the realization soon dawned on him once he lifted his other hand.

    Trapped in a closet.

    Strange men attacked his family.

    A mysterious voice called out to him.

    ¡°I cannot promise that your mother and father will be saved, but I can promise that those men will face God''s unforgiving wrath for the crimes they''ve committed. All you have to do is trust me and just keep walking.¡±

    Blood.

    He was all alone in this strange place.

    No Mom.

    No Dad.

    Just blood.

    Dry blood.

    Little Jeffrey Hopkins produced the loudest scream to ever escape from his small body.

    ¡­

    After a hard shiver brought on from the rough memory, Jeffrey took another swig of bourbon. His glass banged against the counter loudly. ¡°Sal! ''Nuther one¡ªnow!¡± Without a single word, the bartender poured another drink and slid it over to the tormented orphan. Honestly, he felt like he should''ve asked Sal for another two glasses. Sure, thinking about the vast majority of his past made him ache something awful...but something about waking up in a Cambodian forest right after losing his parents¡ªand more than likely killing their murderers¡ªjust made him have the urge to jump off a bridge.

    I agree. You should''ve killed the bastards without the sneaky demon''s intervention.

    Everything about his unintentional overseas escapade triggered unwanted emotions within him. He felt depressed that his family and friends were gone. He felt regretful that he''d trusted this...thing to protect him and his family; only to learn that he did anything but that. He felt livid that he''d ended up in a foreign country, unable to make anybody understand his situation. And worst of all, he felt mortified that his hair-trigger response to seeing blood had been ¡°Why is this here?¡± Seriously? How stupid could he have been? If you see blood, there''s very few ways it could''ve gotten there. Jeffrey might''ve been a staggering drunk nowadays, but he liked to think he was at least a little wiser.

    That remains to be seen, my guy.

    It was obvious to Jeffrey why this particular memory was the worst. And, believe it or not, it had nothing to do with the deaths of his mother and father. It was because it was the first time he''d lost control; the first time he ceased to be Jeffrey Hopkins. Who he became...he shuttered to think. The entity had never revealed his name to him, nor did he go into too much detail as to what he did while he was in control of Jeffrey''s body. However, there had been many years between him waking up in Cambodia and him sitting in Sal''s bar remembering it all; which meant there had been plenty of time to suffer through the aftermath of the entity''s wrath each time he awoke from another long, agonizing slumber.

    Not long after being discovered, Jeffrey had been brought before the local doctor so his injuries could be treated. After a few days of rest, two immigration officers came by to interview him. Their English wasn''t the best, but they were remarkably gentle when speaking to his younger self. They eventually concluded that the child must''ve been kidnapped and smuggled into the country illegally. They fed the boy one last meal just before putting him on the first plane home.

    Unfortunately, that was around the time the unnamed entity decided to continue his wicked reign on Earth.

    Not too long after returning to the United States, Jeffrey had been placed in foster care. He was taken in by a newlywed couple in Davenport, Iowa; Brian and Michelle Hanson. They considered having children of their own, but wanted to test the waters first; see if they were parent-material. Jeffrey liked Brian and Michelle much more than he thought he would. They were patient with him, supportive of his hobbies, and very much invested in his studies. But as much as they loved Jeffrey Hopkins, letting him into their home was one of the worst mistakes they ever made.

    The target of the unnamed entity''s wrath was Michelle''s mother, Bertha Hemingway. Unlike her daughter, Bertha was a hateful hag. If Michelle ever made the mistake of complaining about bills, her mother would sneer and tell her that she shouldn''t of married a car salesman. Whenever Brian came home with a hefty paycheck after making a big sale at work, Bertha would simply turn her nose up at him and bitterly tell him that he needed to get a ¡°real¡± job.

    I can think of two words that your folks coulda told ''er. Get. Laid.

    Jeffrey hated the woman and always hid in his room every time she came by to visit. Though, this unspoken peace eventually ended one day when the boy woke up to a giant slap in the face by the hag herself. ¡°Stop screaming in your sleep, boy! Your mom and dad are dead; get over it!¡± Jeffrey didn''t even have time to get angry before he fell back asleep. The dream had been the same as it was before; lots of endless walking in the middle of nowhere. And upon waking up, he''d been hit with the news that Bertha Hemingway was in the hospital. He never learned what he did nor did he figure out if she lived or not, but Brian and Michelle decided that Jeffrey wasn''t a good fit for their home.

    So then he went to a new home...only to be thrown out later.

    And then he found another home.

    And then another.

    And another.

    Utah.

    Arizona.

    Kentucky.

    California.

    Jeffrey had been all over the United States with a horribly violent streak forever bled onto his record. And the worst part of it all was that he couldn¡¯t even remember hurting anyone. He couldn''t remember beating anyone up. He couldn''t remember injuring anyone. And he certainly couldn''t remember killing anyone. That wasn''t who Jeffrey Hopkins was¡ªhe wasn''t a violent kid. He knew he wasn''t!

    Yeah, yeah¡ªthat''s what they all say.

    Social services had honestly tried their best to make Little Jeffrey Hopkins'' life easier after the tragic death of his parents. But even they had to draw the line after the eighth consecutive family complained about the boy''s violent tendencies. And so the system finally gave up on the boy and sent him away to spend the rest of his adolescence in an asylum in Santa Clara. Amazingly, the staff didn''t treat him like a hardened criminal like Social Services had after losing his fourth home. Jeffrey finally found a home amongst his fellow patients...though he only remembered half of his time there. The treatment didn''t stop the dissociative episodes from happening, but the unnamed entity did calm down his actions for a couple of years.

    Once Jeffrey was of age, they released him back into the world.

    With no other place he''d rather be, the young man headed back home for Cincinnati, Ohio.

    Unfortunately, the world still wasn''t ready for the unnamed entity''s return.

    Shockin''.

    For three straight years after his release, Jeffrey struggled to maintain a job. If the young man wasn''t being fired, he was being given extremely one-sided ultimatums; usually of the ¡°quit or I''ll sue¡± variety. It wasn''t that he was a bad worker or anything¡ªhe tried his absolute best. Unfortunately, his best wasn''t good enough whenever the beast in his head came out at random moments and wreaked havoc on anybody that looked at his host in a slightly threatening manner.

    Around Jeffrey''s twenty-first birthday, his apartment had been broken into. The intruder didn''t appear to have violent intentions in his crime¡ªhe only seemed to care about stealing the television set. The man had even waited for Jeffrey to be asleep as to not cause a fight. Sadly, his plan failed and he was discovered. In hindsight, Jeffrey could''ve easily convinced this man to leave without any bloodshed or law enforcement called. Nevertheless, the sheer fact that a strange man was entering a home that he hadn''t been invited into brought back way too many memories...thus triggering the Hyde to Jeffrey''s Jekyll.

    Upon waking up, Jeffrey had found his reflection staring at him in his bathroom mirror. Well, what kind of looked like his reflection, anyway. The entirety of his face looked like somebody had taken a knife and attempted to carve it like a pumpkin on Halloween. And, in typical Jeffrey Hopkins fashion, he refused to go to a hospital to get stitches. Luckily, the gashes eventually healed on their own and became scars. The big downside, however, was that while none of them developed infections of any kind, they certainly kept women away like the plague. That''s around the time Jeffrey started frequenting Sal''s bar and, thankfully, he''d gotten himself his current job about six months after that.

    And now here he was, years later.

    Still emptying dumpsters.

    Still drinking.

    Still bleeding.

    ¡­

    But there was one thing Jeffrey Hopkins didn''t realize.

    The unnamed entity¡ªthe being that''s been delivering God''s divine fury for years now¡ªknew exactly what Jeffrey thought of him.

    He knew his host regretted ever agreeing to his offer all those years ago.

    He was fully aware that he''d made his life a living nightmare.

    The being truly felt guilty for all of this trouble, but he wasn''t willing to give up just yet.

    Jeffrey thinks his life isn''t worth living anymore?

    He''d fix that!

    He knew a place that he could take his host¡ªsomewhere where he could start over!

    Once this was as all said and done, Jeffrey Hopkins would thank him for everything!

    He''d see!

    And after one last chug of his drink, Jeffrey''s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slid off his bar-stool, landing hard onto the ground.

    Sal and everybody else''s reactions meant nothing to the unnamed entity.

    Their faces simply didn''t exist where Jeffrey was going.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    So...what was the point of that show?

    Tellin'' me that this freak of nature is probably somewhere in Casa do Dia?o?

    Well, you know what I say to that?

    Bring it on, motherfucker.

    I''ve taken out zombies.

    Not to mention that there''s a fuckin'' werewolf wanderin'' around this island somewhere.

    A demon ain''t gonna scare me.

    Nothin'' scares Genghis Dillinger Boy¡ªnothin''!

    So I say again; bring it on.

    Bring it on.

 Chapter Sixteen: The Road We Cruise

    Bring it on.

    ¡­

    ¡°Masks?¡±

    ¡°Check.¡±

    ¡°Empty sacks?¡±

    ¡°Got ''em.¡±

    ¡°What about your vest?¡±

    I beat my hand against my chest, grinning at my partner in crime. ¡°Nice and snug.¡± Leroy nodded, taking a deep breath. ¡°Okay, I think we''re ready now.¡± I nodded back and handed him his Beretta 92F. His girl was a fairly attractive piece, I had to admit. Nickel-plated, five inch barrel, pearl grips¡ªdamn shame she was only a nine millimeter.

    Leroy popped a full magazine into his baby and pulled the slide back. ¡°So let me see if I have this right; fire one warning shot¡ªsave the rest for any potential risk-takers?¡± ¡°Mmhmm,¡± I hummed while opening up Myra''s cylinder to double check her rounds, ¡°this is a pretty small joint, so we doan really need a whole lotta weapons to switch between. Your nine millimeter and my forty-five Colt should be more than enough to get the job done.¡± I closed her back up and smirked at him. ¡°So no need to show off those flashy powers of yours.¡±

    Leroy grabbed his ski mask and pulled it over his head. ¡°I could say the same for your crazy, trigger-happy ass.¡± My buddy received a big ol'' shit-eating grin from me. ¡°There''s a difference between skills that were given to you and those that were earned.¡± He rolled his eyes, dismissing my insight. Alas, that seemed to be the case everywhere I went. As I said before, nobody appreciates the truth nowadays. ¡°Put your mask on before I batter yah.¡± With one last chuckle, I did as I was told. ¡°Enough chit-chat; we got a grocery store to hit.¡±

    </a></a>  The bright sun nearly blinded me as we emerged from the shadows of the alleyway. If I had to guess the time, I''d say it was around 2:25 in the afternoon. The weather still colored my breath smoky white, very much reminding me that it was only the 13<sup>th</sup> of January. If Casa do Dia?o''s winters made New York City''s look like light snowfall, I shuttered to think what Spring would be like here. I may need to keep some extra tissues on me at all times¡ªjust in case the pollen count is so high that my nose bleeds from all the damn sneezing!

    The Mercado Familiar, or ¡°Family Market¡± as Leroy kindly translated for me, was a humble little store in Northern Oeste District. Their inventory covered just about every major food group necessary for maintaining a healthy diet. Fruits, vegetables, lean meat, bread, milk, cheese¡ªbasically anything to keep your lazy ass from blowing all your cheddar at the local burger joint. They even had a small aisle dedicated to junk food for those five year-olds that won''t stop crying because they didn''t get the G.I. Joe action figure they wanted.

    Or, you know, your woman craving really gross shit like sandwiches containing strawberry ice cream smeared on top of turkey and Swiss cheese.

    Still think babies are cool, kids?

    Just thirty-two weeks and life to go.

    Once we reached the front of the store, Leroy took the right side of the entrance while I took the left. ¡°Ready for this?¡± I whispered. He nodded, confidence lacing his next words. ¡°Let''s get this show on the road.¡±

    And so I held up three fingers, putting one down with each number counted.

    ¡°Uno, due, tre.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡­

    I''ve been here for twenty-one days now.

    </a></a> A combination of strange circumstances and poor decisions led me and my girl to this carnival sideshow known as Casa do Dia?o.

    With no home, no job and a baby on the way, I was at a loss.

    But then, Leroy Barris came into my life like an old friend I hadn''t seen since grade school.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Now, first things first, you are probably wondering why we were trying to hold up this grocery store. You''re probably thinking, ¡°Genghis, what gives? If you''re gonna do a stupid little time skip, you better cough up the grueling details of what led you two to commit such a dimwitted crime such as robbing a grocery store outta the blue!¡± First of all, this wasn''t a dimwitted crime; it was a brilliant crime. Secondly, this course of action was only partially outta the blue. I''ll explain that later, though¡ªgotta rewind this tape a little ways first.

    Let''s see...French zombie-gangsters, was it?

    Yeah, that sounds about right.

    After we had successfully defeated Louis Couture and his crew of semi-undead punks, me and Leroy climbed the fence in the back of O Pr¨ªncipe Modesto. Sure, we could''ve just left through the bar; it would''ve certainly been warmer that way. But, as fun as kicking French ass was, neither of us were in the mood for Bauhaus and booze. I dunno¡ªsomething about the whole ¡°doom and gloom¡± thing kinda rendered celebratory drinking...well, meaningless. You understand.

    ¡°What about the redhead? What should we do with her?¡± While hanging on the metal fence, I looked at the unconscious Amelia lying on the ground behind Leroy. ¡°Leave ''er. She can pass along a warnin'' to any of Louis'' men that might still be stinkin'' up this city.¡± The Irishman from Alabama crossed his arms. ¡°Are you sure that''s a good idea? I couldn''t help but notice that she kicked your arse quite a bit during that fight.¡±

    I bit my bottom lip, grilling holes through the snarky asshole. ¡°I had control of that fight the whole time.¡± Leroy grinned wide. ¡°Bullshit. You wouldn''t of begged for my help if you did.¡±

    Oh, get a load of this asshole.

    ¡°You try havin'' your nuts squashed by her henchmen! See if you can handle it! Besides, we can''t all have overpowered water abilities like a certain somebody here.¡± Despite my more than reasonable justification, Leroy Barris continued to look at me like he''d just outsmarted me in a game of chess. ¡°There''s no shame in admitting that a pretty girl gave a big macho man such as yourself a run for your money. I''ve seen plenty of women that were stronger than your average man.¡±

    Call me average again, Bucko.

    I dare you.

    </a>  ¡°She got lucky,¡± I growled through clenched teeth. That got a laugh out of him. ¡°Whatever soothes your pride, buddy.¡± I snorted loudly and jerked my head back. ¡°You gonna climb this fence with me or are you just gonna dick around until she wakes up?¡± Leroy shook his head, still giggling like a fucking girl over my humiliation. ¡°No no¡ªI''m good. Let''s get out of here, Killer.¡±

    Yeah yeah¡ªI''ll show you ¡°killer¡± one of these days.

    He grabbed a hold of the metal to my left and I continued my climb. Once I was at the top of the ten-foot-tall fence, my legs crossed over to the other side. After hopping off the fence, Leroy was down with me in a matter of seconds. A deep breath escaped from my lungs¡ªfollowed by yet another cigarette escaping from my coat pocket. ¡°Alright, your boogeyman is no more,¡± I stated casually while lighting up, ¡°What''s next on the agenda?¡± My partner looked up at the night sky, admiring the starry pattern shining above the two of us. ¡°I dunno, my friend. I suppose it just depends on what you''re hoping to accomplish here on this island. After all...¡± He looked back over at me, smirking. ¡°...nobody comes to Casa do Dia?o without a reason.¡±

    I chuckled, letting the lit cancer stick hang from my lips. ¡°Right you are, pal. Though I ain''t got much of a clue as to what I wanna do, truth be told.¡± Leroy jerked his head slightly to the right. ¡°Walk with me. Let''s see if we can figure out what fate has in store for you.¡±

    Heh, ¡°fate¡±.

    ¡°That ain''t got a hold on me,¡± I informed him as we walked side-by-side toward the main road, ¡°I''m the only master of my future. If I blow up a buildin'', it''s because I wanted to¡ªnot because some ghost said I''d do it.¡± Leroy snickered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. ¡°True, you''re the only one that decides what path to take. However, that doesn''t give you the right to just sit around and do nothing at all.¡± He looked over at me as I took another drag on my smoke. ¡°You still have to actually walk down the path you choose.¡±

    I exhaled the cigarette fumes through my mouth and nostrils. ¡°This the part where you tell me to clean up my act? Get a clean shave and a haircut? Get a respectable job?¡± Leroy shook his head, laughing loudly for about a minute before he responded. ¡°You? Get a respectable job? Not after that bloodbath we got ourselves into!¡±

    I dunno, man.

    It seemed to work just fine for the cops back in New York.

    We stopped walking once we made it back to my parked snowmobile on the deserted road. ¡°The easy life isn''t the life for you, Genghis Boy,¡± Leroy commented, turning to face me in the dark, cold night. ¡°I could tell from the moment I saw you on that ship that you weren''t coming to this island for a romantic getaway with that young woman in the pink sweater.¡± He took a step closer to me, my face suddenly feeling the warmth of his breath. ¡°You''re running from something. The pretty lass just got roped into all the chaos.¡±

    I took the cigarette out of my mouth and blew my smoke away from his face. ¡°The United States couldn''t handle me. Shit, I''d go as far as to say that none of the other countries in the world could handle me.¡± Leroy sighed, never changing his facial expression. ¡°You got into some trouble, didn''t you?¡± I took a step back, allowing at least a little space to be between us. This guy proved to be a trustworthy adversary thus far, but the only times I was okay with other people putting their face that close to mine was if we were fighting or if we were fucking.

    ¡°I, uh, killed a guy in a gas station bathroom.¡± He blinked once, but didn''t say a word nor did he make a funny face at what I had said. Taking his silence as a sign that he was interested in hearing the rest of my story, I continued. ¡°A-A weird...thing talked to me afterwords. Took the form of the dude I stamped out.¡± I took another drag on my cigarette and began pacing. ¡°He suggested that I could make a name for myself here on this island¡ªfollow in the footsteps of my namesake, maybe. Of course, I thought I was just goin'' crazy. After all, no sane person would have corpses talkin'' to them, you know?¡±

    Leroy snorted. ¡°No sane person would kill a man in a gas station bathroom.¡± I couldn''t help but snicker at his honesty. ¡°I''d argue with you on that one, but I can''t really.¡± After one final drag, I dropped the filter onto the ground and quickly extinguished it with my boot before continuing my mindless pacing. ¡°Shit hit the fan eventually. Got my happy ass outta Brooklyn¡ªoutta New York altogether. Now, here I am.¡±

    He hummed in response to my tale. ¡°So you aren''t sorry for what you did?¡± I quickly shrugged and let my hands drop to my sides. ¡°Maybe I shouldn''t of taken my anger out on that guy, but considerin'' I''m here and he ain''t...I''d say I did the poor bastard a favor.¡± Leroy crossed his arms, ready to drop the million dollar question on top of my head. ¡°Why were you angry?¡±

    What do you think, ladies and gentlemen?

    Should I give him the entire scoop¡ªfully equipped with all of the brutal details?

    Or should I just throw him a half-assed summary?

    I rubbed the back of my neck and answered his question with a low, somewhat sheepish tone of voice. ¡°Girl trouble.¡± His face finally lit up, no doubt amused. ¡°Ah¡ªa regular ¡°Machine Gun Kelly¡±, I see. Well, considering that you traveled with a rather fine thing, I''d say your ¡°girl trouble¡± wasn''t too terribly awful.¡± That got a loud scoff outta me. ¡°Shit. If I hadn''t knocked her up, she''d still be in Brooklyn with that shrimp-dicked loser, Paul.¡±

    Leroy put a hand in my path, stopping me in my tracks. ¡°I don''t think that''s true.¡± He stepped in front of me, staring at me for a moment. Just when I was about to ask him to elaborate, he gave me a fairly warm smile. ¡°If she knows that you''re a cold-blooded killer and yet she still decided to come with you to this new land, I''d say she''s in this for the long run.¡± I sighed again and looked down at my feet. ¡°And if you''re out looking for me all by yourself in this weather, I''d say that you''re serious about making things work with her.¡±

    That''s a fucking understatement, my guy.

    A fucking understatement.

    ¡°Yeah...I ain''t got the time to simply ¡°get my foot in the door¡±. I need to bust through that goddamn door.¡± I looked back up at him, expression hard as stone. ¡°I ain''t got much money, Leroy. Fuck, I ain''t got shit. We''re livin'' in a hotel at the moment...and I ain''t one to do some corporal gig¡ªfuck that. My idea of production ain''t having managers shovel shit into my mouth.¡± Not looking away from him, I whipped out my revolver and held it up. ¡°My preferred line of work is much more...hands-on.¡± A wicked grin plastered itself on my face, voice deepening slightly. ¡°No bosses, no rules. Just me being in charge of some unfortunate dope''s destiny. To decide if he lives...or if his blood serves as the aphrodisiac needed to make me feel like a god amongst these wannabe deities.¡±

    Leroy stared straight into my manic eyes. His eyebrows were slightly raised, though his eyelids were still rested over his irises. My words clearly disturbed him at least a little, but he wasn''t so appalled that he was trying to yank my gun outta my hand. After a moment of silence, he placed his hands on my shoulders. ¡°Then let''s start there. We''ll get you enough money to give you and your beloved a good start. Through that trial, we''ll surely figure out where your place on this island is.¡±

    My eyes widened a little, surprised that that was his reaction to what I had to say. ¡°You''re still willin'' help me out?¡± He chuckled lightly. ¡°You''re mad as a box of frogs, Genghis. Nobody can deny that. But, as my mother always told me, the line between genius and insanity is very, very thin. I''m curious as to where you lie on that spectrum.¡± Leroy''s hands dropped to his sides. ¡°Besides, I owe you one, don''t I?¡±

    A relieved smile spread across my face. I had to admit that telling somebody this sorta thing made me feel a whole lot better about myself. It was like dropping a large bag of bricks after years of lugging it around on my back. All these fucked up words coming outta my mouth¡ªI''d rather chop my hand off than ever repeat them to somebody like Heidi. Leroy was officially the only person that knew just how far gone I was.

    And, shockingly, he seemed completely okay with it.

    ¡°I''m glad to hear that, Leroy. I really am,¡± I told him as I put Myra away. His face lit up again, but I stopped him from opening his mouth by holding up my right index finger. ¡°However, there''s now somethin'' I wanna know.¡± I let my teal coat slide down my shoulders all the way to my elbows. With my bare arms exposed, I nodded my head towards the still visible burn Leroy''s thumb had seared into my bicep. ¡°Was there a particular reason why you needed to put this on me?¡±

    Leroy''s expression stiffened a bit.

    ¡°What do you think was the reason?¡±

    That was actually a pretty good question. Considering that an Irish Horse Goddess was the one that allowed Leroy to make this unexpected contact with me, I assumed that the ¡°burning process¡± was maybe some way to track me. Perhaps he couldn''t see me very well in the red portal, so he wanted to mark me¡ªmake me easier to identify. After all, there are plenty of white boys that look very similar to me. Of course, I''m easily the most handsome of them all.

    ¡°I''m gonna go with ¡°Freaky Voodoo Shit¡± for five-hundred, Alex.¡± Leroy made a face and tilted his head to the side, clearly not understanding the reference. ¡°You wanted to find me with some kinda weird Irish horse magic or whatever,¡± I reiterated. He gave me a half nod, but then shook his head. ¡°Good guess, but that''s wrong.¡±

    Of course it was wrong.

    Nothing can be simple on this goddamn island.

    ¡°Alright wise guy, why doan you enlighten me then? Because the only other explanation I can think of is that you''re just an asshole.¡± With the stage now belonging to Leroy Barris, it was his turn to pace back and forth. ¡°Think back to that faithful day. You and your lass had just boarded the Princess Moura after a series of rather unusual events. You both were terrified of the notion that a giant basilisk was the ship captain for the duration of your voyage...¡± He took a moment to chuckle darkly at the mental image. ¡°...but neither of you realized that you were never in any danger. Moura may take a terrifying physical form, but she is nothing more than the gatekeeper of this unholy land¡ªa guard bound by duty to defend anyone who found the courage to leave their old lives behind in favor of something new.¡±

    Leroy stopped pacing and looked at me with his hands out. ¡°Meanwhile, I was able to cause you physical pain without even being there.¡± He stepped closer to me, getting in my face again. Seriously man, did he wanna make-out or something? Give me room to breathe. ¡°Do you understand where I''m coming from?¡±

    No.

    No, I didn''t.

    ¡°You''re ramblin''. What''s the point of all this?¡± His hands dropped to his sides as a loud groan came out of his mouth. ¡°What I''m trying to say is that the Unexpected rules Casa do Dia?o. Instead of being wary of things that look threatening, you need to be wary of all your surroundings. A lion might be guarding his den, but you don''t want to be so distracted by him that you don''t catch the King Cobra sneaking up behind you.¡± He poked my chest with his right index finger. ¡°Because if you focus too much on the big cat, you''ll never stand a chance at survival once that snake bites your leg. I don''t want to see you die, Genghis. If burning your arm is what it takes to make you understand, I''ll ask Danu to assist me in burning you again each time you forget. Expect the unexpected...or else you''ll perish before you can even truly live. Do you understand me now, Genghis Dillinger Boy?¡±

    Not gonna lie, I was a little on the fence on how to take his advice.

    On one hand, I already followed this principle religiously back in Brooklyn; he was really just preaching to the choir here.

    On the other hand, I ain''t ever had to deal with goddamn corpses attacking me until Jacob Summers decided to give me a piece of his mind.

    I guess it just goes to show that literally anything can happen if you don''t pay attention.

    So with this in mind, I decided to acknowledge Leroy''s advice with a swift nod.

    Satisfied with my response, he finally took a step away from me. ¡°So now that we have that settled, tell me: what hotel are you and the little lady staying at?¡± I blew a little air through my lips as I pulled my coat back up to my shoulders. ¡°This place made outta diamond. Like one hundred percent, grade A diamond. Fuckin'' eyesore, if you ask me.¡± Leroy cocked an eyebrow and squinted. ¡°Are you talking about the ¡°Hotel de Diamantes¡± over in Oeste District?¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    His tone of voice slightly amused me.

    Something told me that he wasn''t pleased with this particular location.

    Not that I could blame him, of course; Oeste was a heaping pile of elephant shit from the word ¡°go¡±.

    ¡°So you''ve heard about it, then?¡± Leroy gave a rather exaggerated sigh, nodding slowly. ¡°Yes.¡± He shook his head and spoke again with a somewhat agitated tone of voice. ¡°Yes, of course you''d pick a place fairly close to the docks. Winters here are hard and your lady friend is in no condition to be aimlessly trekking all across the island.¡±

    ¡°You doan approve, I take it?¡± He sighed again, rubbing his left palm over his face. ¡°It''s not that. It''s just that I...should''ve known better.¡± I was confused at first as to what the problem was. Sure, we were currently a long ways from the hotel, but we could manage. I made it to Norte District in a matter of days. Yeah, the drive was fucking awful, but I survived. So long as Leroy used his powers to help us both, we should be able to make it to Oeste District in much less time. So there shouldn''t be any problems worth worrying about, right?

    Then I remembered the daydream.

    How Leroy had been picked up by two women after being orphaned on the streets.

    How they lived in a cottage up in Norte District.

    How Leroy summoned Danu in those woods.

    How he spoke to me in those same woods.

    So that was the catch here.

    The problem wasn''t the drive; it was him leaving his folks¡ªhis home¡ªbehind.

    </a>  After a moment of weighing his options, Leroy reached into his coat and pulled out his Motorola. ¡°I''ll need to let my family know that I''m going to be spending a few weeks in Oeste District.¡± While he dialed the number, I examined my trusty snowmobile sitting next to me. ¡°''Bout how long do you think it would take to get us to Oeste usin'' your powers?¡± He put the phone up to his ear and shrugged. ¡°It would take a few hours to get us to the edge of Oeste District. To Hotel de Diamantes, on the other hand? You''re looking at a day long trip at the very least.¡±

    I was right about that, at least.

    ¡°Think I can use your phone when you''re done? So I can tell Heidi that I''m on my way home?¡± He nodded at me as he responded to the voice answering his late night call. A smile spread across my face just before mouthing a silent ¡°thank you¡± to him. Yes, things were finally starting to look up for me, ladies and gentlemen. I had successfully recruited Leroy Barris to my side, giving me the extra manpower needed to fend off all of these super-powered freaks inhabiting Casa do Dia?o. Life was close to being considered ¡°good¡± now.

    I looked up at the stars while he had his phone conversation.

    Big Dipper told me hello.

    ¡­

    As Leroy had said, it took us a little over a day to make it back to the Diamond Hotel. He summoned up his fancy snow wave again and dragged me and my snowmobile along with him. I''d say the overall trip conversation was fascinating and memorable, but I''d be lying my ass off. Granted, it wasn''t his fault; it was mine for constantly passing out on him during the drive. Don''t be judging me, alright? After days of endless travel and ass-kicking with hardly any time to rest, a little exhaustion on my part was completely understandable. The good news was that it made the trip home seem much shorter than it really was.

    Of course, where there is an upside, there''s always a downside. While I managed to catch a few ZZZs during the trip, Leroy was dead to the world once we reached the short driveway to the hotel parking lot. Well, not literally dead, you know¡ªjust passed out was all. I''d have to remember to make this up to him once warmer weather was afoot.

    ¡°C''mon buddy, let''s get you a room,¡± I said as I attempted to get him to his feet. Lemme tell you guys now, it was quite the motherfucking struggle. Leroy Barris may have had a smaller frame than I had, but after wrapping my arms around him, it became abundantly clear to me that there was plenty of muscle hidden underneath his clothes. If I had to guess, I''d say he either weighed around the same as I did, or was little heavier.

    While I managed to get him up eventually, gravity decided to give me the middle finger and his unconscious body went tumbling over again. ¡°Oh no you don''t!¡± I growled, snaking my arms around his waist. Leroy dangled over the hard ground in my arms for a moment before I attempted to lift him up again. After a quick breath, I leaned him against my side so I could put his arm around my neck.

    ¡°Baby steps, Leroy. Baby steps. We can do this.¡± I took one last look at my snowmobile, which was parked on the sidewalk. ¡°I''ll be back for you in a minute.¡± With those words, I dragged us both slowly into the parking lot. Anytime it felt like he was slipping, I tightened my hold around his waist.

    While we made our way to the hotel entrance, I kept my focus by quietly singing the lyrics of the first song to come to my head. ¡°Saraaaa, you''re the poet in my heaaart. Never channnnnnge, and don''t you ever stop...¡± Once both the soothing guitar playing and Stevie Nicks'' beautiful voice was crystal clear inside my head, I was able to start moving us at a faster pace. It was an age-old mental yoga technique many people used. Whenever you''re in the middle of a task that requires your full attention, think of a song you really like. Once you do that, the task ultimately becomes much easier because your mind ain''t being reduced to slush due to the combination of frustration and tedium.

    Some people prefer to do crossword puzzles instead, but those people are really sad.

    Anyone who doesn''t appreciate the work of my lyrical goddess is a sad sonuvabitch.

    ¡°But now it''s gone: noooo, it doesn''t matter anymore...¡± Around this time, we had made it to the halfway point of the parking lot. Once I made this realization, I took a deep breath and continued singing. ¡°When you build your house, I''ll come byyy...¡±

    It was some point before I started singing the ending verse¡ªas in sometime during the ¡°Ooooh, Sara¡± back-up singing¡ªthat Leroy began to show some signs of life. ¡°Hmmm...who sings that song, Genghis?¡± He spoke slowly and quietly, probably still half-asleep. ¡°Fleetwood Mac. Why do you ask?¡± He opened one of his eyes and tightened his hold around my neck. ¡°You should keep it that way.¡±

    Oh, ha ha.

    ¡°Man, shut your bitch ass up. I oughta make you walk to the lobby by yourself.¡± He chuckled, shaking his head slowly. ¡°I appreciate your help.¡± I looked over toward the hotel and was pleased to see that we were almost to the door. A smile came to my face as I reached my other arm around to pat Leroy''s shoulder. ¡°You better. You''re a heavy sonuvabitch.¡±

    Things were smooth as butter once we made it inside the Diamond Hotel. Alexander was more than happy to supply Leroy a room, provided he paid the fee at the end of his stay. Yeah, pay at the end of his stay. I wasn''t sure if this was a regular thing he did, or if it was a favor he was doing for me. If it was the former, I really gotta wonder how on Earth has this guy survived Casa do Dia?o for so long without getting his ass shot by some gangbangers looking for free hospitality.

    Upon entering my room after a couple of days on the road, I barely made it past the door before Heidi got up in my face. She passionately told me things as tears streamed down her pretty hazels...but none of those things matched up. When I say none of it matched up, I mean that the emotions being conveyed were completely outta whack and contradictory. Think I''m exaggerating? Just listen for yourself.

    ¡°Genghis! You no-good, sleazy, cocksuckin'' motherfucker! I fuckin'' missed your sawrry ass!¡±

    See?

    ¡°I been so lonely without you here! Don''t you care about that at all?! Answer me, you thick-dicked slimeball!¡±

    Well, I ain''t ever been called a ¡°thick-dicked slimeball¡± before.

    I wasn''t sure if I should take that as a compliment or¡ª

    ¡°I hate you, you stupid prick! I hate you!¡±

    At this point, she was slapping the shit out of my chest. Normally, I''d be pretty pissed off if some broad was using me as her personal punching bag. Hell, I''d be lying if I said I wasn''t at least a tad ticked off over her reaction to me doing a thing that she already knew I was gonna do. Any other woman doing this to me would get snuffed right in the fucking jaw without a second goddamn thought. But this was Heidi; me and her went back way too far for me to do her like that.

    So instead of chewing her ass out, I just pulled her in for a hug. ¡°H-Hey! Lego of me, you fuckin'' asshole!¡± Heidi tried to pull away from me, but I tightened my hold on her so she couldn''t escape. ¡°I ain''t fuckin'' ''round, Genghis! Let go of me!¡± She tried to knee me in the balls, which served as the final straw for me.

    ¡°You sonuva¡ªhey! Whatta yah¡ª¡± In the middle of her unnecessary yelling, I lifted Heidi up and walked us over to the bed¡ªher flailing her arms around so much that it knocked my gangster fedora onto the floor. ¡°Put me down! Put me down!¡± Doing as she commanded, I tossed her onto the mattress. She landed on her back and continued to squirm as I climbed on top of her. ¡°Get off me, creep!¡± She slapped me hard in the face, but I mostly disregarded the blow while I pinned her arms down with my hands.

    She screamed a few more obscenities at me before I finally shut her up with a tender kiss on the lips. And, just like that, all of her wrath seemed to have vanished. All of the thrashing stopped and the tension in her arm muscles eased a little. I caressed her face a few times before breaking the contact.

    This action caused the floodgates to open.

    Big time.

    ¡°Oh my God, I''m so sorry baby! I''m so sorry! I''m such a terrible person¡ªoh my God!¡± Heidi wailed loudly underneath me for a solid ten minutes, at least. Of course, I refrained from opening my mouth until I knew she was calm¡ªI didn''t want to fuck up and say something stupid, you know? Anytime she looked like she wanted a response outta me, I either rubbed her cheek or kissed her again.

    Once she was finally quiet, I gave her one last peck on the lips. ¡°I need to move the snowmobile real quick. But I''ll be right back, okay?¡± She stared at me for a moment with her sad eyes. ¡°I love you. Y-You know that, right?¡± I gave her a warm smile as I gently rubbed her small, but ever-growing baby bump. ¡°I love you too, gorgeous.¡± As soon as I saw that she was pleased with my response, I got back to my feet and left the room.

    ...

    I slept for the entire day, waking up sometime in the evening to the room phone ringing in my ear. Once I answered it, I discovered that Leroy was staying on the same floor as we were. And, apparently, Heidi''s hormone-induced temper tantrum from earlier was loud enough for him to hear all the way down the hall. ¡°Your girlfriend...I''m a little frightened of her. Maybe I''ll introduce myself when she''s not as...fighty.¡± He heard no complaints from me, ladies and gentlemen. And so we stayed put at the hotel for a couple of days; taking time to relax and plot our next move.

    It wasn''t until the fourth day that me and him had ¡°met up for coffee¡± while Heidi took an afternoon nap.

    ¡°No security, you say? Fuckin'' A!¡± Leroy quickly shushed me, putting his index finger in front of his lips. Me being me, the excitement over hearing that he had thought of a possible start to our two-man crime spree made it hard to contain my whispers. ¡°Indeed, most of the small businesses in Casa do Dia?o seem to suffer that affliction,¡± he said quietly, leaning over the small cafe table we currently occupied, ¡°They either cannot afford the protection, or their pride is too strong to give in to the demands of the many organized crime syndicates plaguing every district of the island.¡±

    ¡°And I''m guessin'' the mob is typically filled with super-powered freaks like Louis Couture?¡± I asked, leaning back into my chair. Leroy nodded and took a quick sip out of his Styrofoam cup. ¡°Many of the island''s strongest individuals aren''t satisfied leading less-than-extravagant lifestyles, unfortunately. And, contrary to what you may believe, not everyone in Casa do Dia?o is all-powerful. Some people draw the short stick when being given their powers.¡±

    Pfft, he didn''t need to tell me that.

    I''ve seen werewolves, zombies, necromancy, super strength, demon steeds, water-manipulation, and now involuntary demon possession courtesy of Jeffrey Hopkins.

    I''m the motherfucker that got the lame dream powers.

    I leaned forward in my seat, trying to ignore the somewhat bitter feelings of this reminder. ¡°So you sayin'' that the people in charge of this ¡°Family Market¡± are confirmed to be virtually harmless?¡± He wrapped both of his hands around his coffee. ¡°More or less. We may not make a lot of money from this job, but it''s a start.¡±

    Oh hell yeah.

    This was the kinda news that turned me on more than anything else.

    A bunch of worthless scrubs just going about their day as normal¡ªblissfully unaware that there''s a monster lurking in the shadows.

    ¡°So, what do you say? Should we survey the area and then decide on a game plan?¡±

    I gave him a wild grin.

    ¡°I got a much better idea, buddy.¡±

    ¡­

    There you have it, ladies and gentlemen; you''re all up to speed now.

    You''re welcome, by the way.

    ¡°Uno, due, tre.¡± Me and my partner in crime simultaneously kicked in the door to the Mercado Familiar. Immediately upon entering, I was reminded of one of those rinky-dink pharmacies back in Brooklyn. You know the type¡ªwhite ceramic tiles for walls, three to five aisles worth of merchandise, and the giant nerd behind the cash register that looked like he preferred his women like he preferred his pot roast¡ªchilling out in the freezer until he was ready to cook it up for guests.

    Before any of the customers could properly react to the sudden noise, Leroy cleared his throat loudly. ¡°Everybody, get on your knees and put your hands on your head!¡± The idiots looked around at each other, mouths agape. ¡°He said get on your fuckin'' knees! This is a raid!¡± I shouted, putting extra emphasis on the word ¡°raid¡± as to signal my partner to fire his warning shot. He took the hint and fired a nine millimeter round into the ceiling.

    The customers all dropped to the ground and put their hands on their heads, screaming over the realization that they had just become hostages. I held Myra up and looked at Leroy. ¡°Keep these pansies down while I go grab the goods.¡± As I made my way over to the counter, I pointed my revolver at several of the hostages on my left. ¡°Anybody that wants to misbehave for my buddy over there will get a face full of lead.¡± I then switched Myra''s direction, now pointing to the hostages on my right. ¡°And anybody that even thinks about being heroic will be knocked off their ivory tower faster than you can say ¡°The Family Market provides only the freshest fruits and vegetables for the entire family¡±. Got that?!¡± My ears picked up the sound of unanimous gasping along with some faint whimpering.

    Honestly, I was pretty sure half of these bozos didn''t even speak English.

    We were in Casa do Dia?o, after all.

    However, the great thing about language was that you could earn any reaction you wanted so long as you sounded a certain way.

    By sounding angry, even some foreign-speaking prick could get the general idea of what I was saying.

    Once I made it to the counter, I pointed Myra right in the geeky cashier''s face. ¡°Time to empty that little register of yours, pal.¡± Instead of doing what he was told, the sweaty herb just stared at me like a deer in the headlights. ¡°Do you not speak my language or somethin''?¡± I asked, pulling Myra''s hammer back, ¡°I said give me all of your money!¡± He shook his head, tears slightly fogging up his large glasses. I growled and tried a slightly different approach. ¡°Arrenditi i tuoi soldi o perisci!¡± Unfortunately, that seemed to only confuse the stupid bastard even more, causing him to speak a language I wasn''t entirely familiar with. ¡°Non entendo! Non entendo!¡±

    ¡°Man, fuck you!¡± I snapped just before shooting him in the face. The blast from my forty-five Colt essentially split his face in half, coating my mask in blood. As his body toppled over, a giant uproar in the Mercado Familiar took place. All of the hostages were screaming their heads off and a couple of them even tried to make a run for the door. But that''s okay; me and Leroy figured something like this would happen.

    ¡°Leroy, watch the door! Kill anyone tryin'' to be brave!¡± The loud bangs of Leroy''s Beretta popping off a couple of customers echoed in my ears as I climbed over the counter. My peripheral vision caught sight of the freshly dead cashier sprawled out on the tiled floor. Taking a quick breath, I faced the corpse and searched his pockets. Sure enough, I found a ring of keys; probably for his car, his house, and his cash register. I didn''t need a car right now in this weather and, judging by the potentially low salary he made working in a crappy grocery store, his house was probably a fucking shack. So I once I found the correct key for his register, I tossed the rest to the side.

    ¡°Genghis, you got the money yet?!¡± Leroy shouted over the combined sound of screams and gunfire. ¡°I''m on it, I''m on it!¡± I responded hastily, stuffing my brown sack full of fichas. Of course, I knew it wouldn''t be as simple as emptying the cash register. Oh no¡ªthere was bound to be more. Look, I ain''t ever worked in a small business before, but it ain''t exactly a secret to us low-lives that these small, family-owned joints often had a mini-treasury in the back office. It was often left untouched, only really utilized either when the main register came up a couple bucks short or in more serious emergencies like owing a shitload of dough to the IRS or perhaps some two-bit loan shark.

    So once the register was clear, I looked up at Leroy, who was still dutifully guarding the entrance. ¡°Yo Leroy! I''m gonna look in the back office. Be back in a jiffy!¡± He groaned as he popped another magazine into his pistol. ¡°Don''t take too long, okay? My hands are getting sore from working this stiff slide!¡± I nodded and rushed into the back, letting the door slam behind me.

    As far as a back room, there really wasn''t much to see. Unlike the main lobby, this room had concrete walls and a gray linoleum floor. The temperature was cool, but slightly warmer than what it was outdoors. And, awkwardly enough, the room was about the size of the lobby. Considering that the room was full of boxed-up produce, my guess was that this area was purposely kept at a low room temperature as to maintain the quality of the merchandise. Not that any of that shit matters, of course; I was only back here for the cheddar.

    With no time to waste, I searched along the walls for anything that might''ve resembled a safe. I knew I was looking for something fairly small. This market wasn''t some multimillion dollar corporation or anything; there wasn''t gonna be an entire room full of gold bars. Hell, I doubted the safe itself was even around the same height as your truly. My predication was that it would either be one of those tiny lightweight safes disguised as a fucking dictionary, or maybe one around the size of a mini-refrigerator.

    I thought the search was going to take a while, but I was delighted to see that I was wrong.

    After passing the third rack of kid''s juice boxes, I heard the tell-tale sound of a slide being pulled. ¡°I-Isto ¨¦ tan lonxe c-c-como vaia.¡± I turned and spotted the owner of the timid voice. Standing next to a cooler full of frozen meats was a tan-skinned woman wearing an oversized coat and white tights. Her long black hair was in her face, but failed to cover the obvious fear written in her eyes. Even with both hands tightly gripping her little black handgun, she still struggled to catch the rapid breaths escaping from her pouty lips.

    It was like a cute little squirrel trying to stand up to a burly lumberjack about to chop her tree down to the ground.

    ¡°Go home, lady. You''re flirtin'' with disaster by stayin'' here.¡± She didn''t say anything, instead opting to fire a round in my direction. Luckily, it missed me and hit a juice box behind me. I chuckled and held Myra up so she could see that I, too, was packing some serious heat. ¡°Look baby, I just wanna see your safe. Point it out to me and maybe I''ll forget that you shot at me.¡±

    Before you say anything, I was fully aware that she couldn''t understand me.

    I was simply playing along in the hopes that she''d make my job easier for me.

    She frantically shook her head. ¡°Deixar este lugar, monstro!¡± With that, she fired another round that actually did hit me...in the bulletproof vest. The blow briefly winded me, but I was still standing. Thank God Leroy was such a worrywart that nagged me constantly about getting this thing.

    ¡°Alright, bitch. That''s as far as I''m gonna let you go.¡± She looked ready to pull the trigger again, but I quickly pulled the hammer back and shot her hand, making her drop the gun. The lady screamed and dropped to her knees, using her other hand to apply pressure to the wound. I walked over to her now that she was properly disarmed. ¡°So I''m gonna ask you one more time...¡± I stood over her and pointed Myra''s barrel against her forehead. ¡°Where. Are. The. Fichas?¡±

    Her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face. ¡°F-Fichas? Q-Queres sa¨ªr se che dou o que queres?!¡± I pushed her forehead upwards with the barrel so she''d be looking at my masked face. ¡°Yeah, fichas. You got approximately two seconds to fork them over.¡± She quickly got back to her feet and motioned for me to follow her. I did so, but kept the gun pointed at the back of her head¡ªjust in case she thought she was gonna pull a fast one on me.

    We walked about halfway around the room before she pointed at a checkered sheet that seemed to be covering something up. ¡°Take it off,¡± I ordered her, using my gun to motion towards the sheet. The lady nodded and yanked the cover off the object, revealing a forest green safe underneath. It was short, only barely coming up to the bottom of my knees. It was easy to see why these guys decided to make it blend in with all these other boxes.

    Mentally patting myself on the back for being right, I grinned at the scared little lady. ¡°Good girl. Now...¡± I lifted my other hand up and did a writing motion. ¡°...I want you to write down the combination. Easiest way past this language barrier we seem to have.¡± Swallowing hard, the woman mimicked my gesture. ¡°E-Escribir?¡± I nodded in response and she reached into her one of her coat pockets, pulling out a pen and notepad with German Shepherds on the front.

    As she clicked her pretty little pink pen, the door to the back room opened. ¡°What the hell is taking you so long? You get lost?¡± I looked over at Leroy and jerked my head towards the lady. ¡°Gettin'' us a bonus, my guy! Earn enough money for the both of us to live a little easier for a day or two.¡± He walked over toward us and looked over the woman''s shoulder. "A safe? Excellent."

    I began to nod, but had a sudden thought come to my head. ¡°How goes it with the hostages?¡± Leroy sighed, shaking his head while still watching the woman write. ¡°All dead. Every single one of them.¡± I blew a little air through my lips. ¡°Dumbasses. How they got to this island in the first place, I''ll never fuckin'' know.¡± The lady finished writing the safe combination sometime during this exchange and handed me the slip of paper. ¡°Alright Genghis, now what?¡± I poked my head around the corner and pointed. ¡°Over there somewhere is a pistol lyin'' on the ground. Go grab it while I open up this safe.¡± He nodded and left to do his assigned task.

    While he did this, I took the lady''s wounded hand. She gasped, looking down in horror at me using my middle and index fingers to wipe the blood off her gunshot wound. Before letting go of her hand, I licked my fingertips clean of her life essence. Through an intense moan, I pointed toward the door and told her to leave. I imagine my reaction was pretty terrifying, if the sudden whimpering and lightning quick sprinting was any indicator. But really, I couldn''t care less about what she thought.

    Me?

    I was in eternal bliss.

    The sweet-yet-bitter taste of life coated my taste-buds like fine wine.

    After too long of being separated from divinity, Papa had found his way home.

    ¡°Hmph, the lass tried to fight you with a twenty-two. That takes courage, I have to admit.¡± I laughed loudly, the euphoria making me shake. ¡°Anyone who t-t-thinks they can take on a God is fuckin¡ªoh...¡± My inability to finish my sentence made Leroy sigh. ¡°Whatever you say, you fucking psycho.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Me and Leroy Barris.

    We come from different backgrounds, but we''re basically the same.

    Just two guys trying to make a name for themselves in this wicked wonderland.

    We''ve been a duo for just over a week now and we still have a long, treacherous road to cruise.

    Hell, we''ve really only just cranked up the engine of our 1990 model Hell Taxi.

 Chapter Seventeen: Who Ordered the Bad News?

    Three days passed since our hit on the Mercado Familiar. It was a hastily executed job with hardly any time to map out the area, but we nevertheless made out like bandits¡ªwell, amateur bandits that got lucky, anyway. Of course, it ain''t like we needed to draw a blueprint of that place or anything; it only had two rooms in total. Seriously, just two goddamn rooms¡ªand no bathrooms! Were customers just going to the back alleyway to shit in a box or something? What about the workers?

    I digress.

    </a>  Despite yours truly being a pretty damn good troublemaker back in the great US of A, me and Leroy¡ªas a team¡ªwere new to the not-so-good-intentions lifestyle of Casa do Dia?o. Sure, we defeated an entire crime family within my first month of living here, but that apparently wasn''t enough of a feat to warrant us becoming cold alleyway celebrities. And since there were no cops to consistently fail at cuffing and stuffing us, we had to find another way to make people talk. I suppose we weren''t doing our combined reputations any favors by choosing an unimpressive hole in the wall for our first robbery. Still, to our credit, there had been around eleven or twelve people in that store when we first walked in. Only one continued to breath after we walked out, and she had a hole the size of a quarter in her hand.

    As Leroy had suspected, we didn''t run away millionaires or anything. Even with us looting the safe, we still only left with a little over five-thousand fichas. Of course, I kinda figured that would be the case. To be perfectly blunt, you''re a motherfucking imbecile if you think you''re gonna walk into a small, family owned business and leave with overflowing pockets. A casino¡ªmaybe. A bank¡ªdefinitely. A grocery store¡ªno fucking way. That being said, the two of us split the earnings fifty-fifty and still came out with somewhat satisfactory results.

    Sadly for me though, today was the day that I blew roughly around sixty percent of my cut.

    On what, you ask?

    Don''t worry, it wasn''t anything flashy and stupid.

    Just Heidi''s doctor bill when we finally went for her first baby check-up.

    That''s at least one thing Casa do Dia?o has in common with America.

    ¡°You think we''ll find out if it''s a boy or girl, Genghis?¡± I held Heidi''s hand while she rested herself on her cozy hospital bed. You know, I shit-talk Oeste District all the time...but even I had to admit that the maternity ward of the First Fomorian Health Center was nice. Heidi''s room reminded me of a small suburban home. It came with a mini kitchen as well as its own private bathroom¡ªshower and all. There was even a TV and couch, presumably so soon-to-be dads wouldn''t be bored to tears while their baby-mamas underwent a thousand years worth of tests. Her mattress was top of the line; dare I say softer than our bed back at the hotel! As for wall decorations, it could''ve been much worse. At least it wasn''t littered with artwork that looked like it was drawn by Kindergartners nor were there any pictures of Mr. Rogers smiling creepily at you while your doctor asks incredibly specific questions about your sex life.

    ¡°I dunno, babygirl. I think it might be too early to tell.¡± She giggled softly, rubbing her bump with her other hand. ¡°I hope it''s a girl.¡± Even with the extra weight gained, Heidi''s little schoolgirl giggle still made my heart pound. Her eyes glistened with that ¡°new mother¡± glow that you always hear housewives ramble on about. For the first time since we moved to Casa do Dia?o, she looked completely enveloped in bliss and hope. This was good; it meant that I was doing something right here.

    ¡°I doan. She''ll end up bein'' spoiled rotten. At least if we have a son, I can straighten his ass out whenever he decides to act up.¡± Heidi gave me a playfully scornful look and shook her head. ¡°Genghis, you can''t even straighten yourself out half the time. The last thing the world needs is two of you runnin'' around¡ªgettin'' into trouble!¡± I laughed at that statement. ¡°C''mon, baby! He ain''t gonna make the same mistakes I made. I can promise you that!¡±

    Yeah yeah, I know; I couldn''t promise her that.

    But it''s either that or a miniature Heidi constantly buttering me up with big eyes and a sweet voice.

    </a>  ¡°I''ll believe that when I see¡ª¡± Before she could finish, our main man returned to the room with a clipboard. Doctor Okafor, I won''t lie, was somebody that I''d never want to see pissed off. He was a tall, ridiculously buff black guy who looked like he could easily bench press around eight or nine hundred pounds; maybe even a thousand on a good day. You think I''m joking? His white coat, which already looked like a bed-sheet fitted for a queen-sized mattress, just barely fit around his broad shoulders. Shit, the guy''s biceps alone were the size of bowling balls! I seriously had to wonder what the Jesus-riding-a-dinosaur fuck was this dude doing working as a doctor, of all things. If I were a pregnant lady, I''d be scared shitless that he''d shove his hand up into my uterus and pull the damn baby out himself!

    ¡°Every''ding going okay, you two?¡± he asked with his thick, African sounding accent. Heidi''s grip on my hand tightened. Oh yeah, I knew what she was thinking alright. See, we arrived at the First Fomorian Health Center at 6:15 in the morning. The time now was pushing about 3:00 in the afternoon. It had been explained to us earlier that the first check-up was mainly a confirmation check, though they also check to make sure the expecting mother is healthy enough to go through with the pregnancy. Meaning that they were going to do a lot of testing and it was going to take a long fucking time.

    Thus far, Heidi had filled out a novel''s worth of paperwork, answered questions regarding her menstrual cycle and what kind of contraceptives we used, provided a urine sample, had her vitals checked, had her blood taken, and even had her pussy swabbed with a cold metal rod. Doctor Okafor, despite his intimidating physique, did a good job guiding her through each procedure with care and grace¡ªwhich I was eternally grateful for. Still, I knew she was exhausted from all of this and was ready to go back to the hotel. I mean, I was exhausted...and if I was, then she was bound to have been, too.

    ¡°Everythin''s good, Doc. Just waitin'' to hear what you guys have found out.¡± The large man laughed loudly and shook his head. I guess he picked up on the slightly agitated tone of my voice. ¡°No need to sound like dis is a dire situation, Mr. Boy! Your lovely wife''s tests have come back wid mostly good results.¡± Before you ask, no; me and Heidi didn''t get hitched during the last three days. In fact, we''d already clarified with the nurses several times that we weren''t married. As for Doctor Okafor, I gave up trying to explain the situation to him after the third time he asked how long we''d been trying to conceive our first child together.

    It was the matching last names confusing them, I bet.

    Blame Roy for that one.

    Heidi practically squeaked. ¡°Uh-umm...mostly?¡± ¡°It''s no''ding to worry about,¡± he stated cheerfully, taking a seat on the edge of her bed, ¡°your blood test just says dat you''re a little low on iodine is all. Some vitamins and maybe some more potatoes to your diet will fix dat in no time!¡± She sighed with relief and loosened her grip around my hand. ¡°O''dah dan dat, our tests indicate dat you''re very heal''dy and over eight weeks into your pregnancy¡ªalmost nine. Dis includes de time between de first day of your last period and de estimated date of conception. So about nine or ten weeks from now, we might be able to figuah out what your baby''s sex is.¡±

    I leaned forward, rubbing Heidi''s knuckle with my thumb. ¡°So what day do you think will be his¡ªor her¡ªbirthday?¡± Doctor Okafor grinned. ¡°August de 25''d. It will ei''dah be before, aftah, or on dat day.¡± He chuckled again and held his hand out, making his middle and index fingers hover a little over his thumb. ¡°For now, dough, Baby Boy is just about de size of a blueberry.¡±

    Heidi giggled again, giving her bump yet another rub. That motherly glow was ever present after hearing about her little blueberry¡ªour little blueberry. ¡°That''s good. Is there anythin'' else you need me to do?¡± Doctor Okafor grinned again, though this time a little hesitantly. ¡°I do have one more ding I need to do before you''re free to go.¡± I groaned a little too loudly at that statement, which was followed by another hearty laugh by the good doctor. ¡°No worries! I just need to check de heartbeat of your little one. It will only take a minute.¡±

    With that, he stuck the tips of his stethoscope into his ears and pressed the metal part against Heidi''s belly. I continued to hold her hand as he moved the device around, taking note of the somewhat worried expression on her face. She was hoping¡ªpraying¡ªthat he wasn''t going to find anything wrong. Besides obviously wanting to go back to the hotel as soon as humanly possible so she could sleep, the pregnancy was now real enough to her that she understood that any little thing could happen between now and August 25<sup>th</sup>.

    Christ Almighty...August 25<sup>th</sup>.

    That''s only a little over seven months from now.

    Only a little over seven months to go until Genghis Dillinger Boy becomes a father.

    Only a little over seven months left for him to make a name for himself in Casa do Dia?o.

    Fuck.

    This pregnancy was insanely real to me now, too.

    And guess what, ladies and gentlemen; that ain''t even the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae.

    ¡°Goodness!¡± The good doctor''s sudden outburst jolted the both of us out of our thoughts. ¡°What? What''s wrong?¡± He didn''t respond to Heidi, instead deciding to just smile wide like a kid waking up on Christmas day to see his giant mountain of presents waiting for him underneath the Christmas tree. ¡°Doc, what is it?¡± I asked with a louder tone of voice, trying to get his attention. Unfortunately, I had the same luck she had.

    ¡°Oh my goodness! How exciting for you two!¡± Me and Heidi looked at each other and then back at him. ¡°Why do you say that? What did you hear?¡± Once again, her words were ignored while the overly-enthusiastic bastard continued to squeal with excitement. ¡°Dis is my favorite kind of pregnancy to assist wid! I''m so happy for you, Mr. and Mrs. Boy!¡± I growled and beat my hand against the mattress. ¡°Doc! Answer the fuckin'' question!¡± With this demand, Doctor Okafor finally looked at us and took his ear-buds out.

    Get ready for that cherry, folks.

    It''s a monster.

    ¡°Listen to dis¡ªboth of you!¡± He quickly handed Heidi the ear-buds of his stethoscope while he continued to hold the metal part against her bump. She stuck one tip into her right ear and motioned for me to lean down and take the other one. I did just that and put my head against hers, listening in with my left ear.

    At first I didn''t really hear a whole lot, and what I did hear mostly reminded me of that echoy, not-an-ocean sound you hear whenever you put a seashell against your ear. Once the doctor started to move the device around, however, I could hear it loudly and clearly; our baby''s heartbeat. It was a little slow, but I wagered that that was due to the lack of development at such an early stage of the pregnancy. Regardless of the reason, I still smiled like an idiot while Heidi giggled joyfully. But then he moved the device all the way over to the other side of her belly. That was the point where all my joy quickly turned into shit-spewing terror.

    Now, correct me if I''m wrong, but blueberries are supposed to be small, right?

    Like, smaller than a penny?

    With this in mind, my kid''s heartbeat should only¡ªlogically¡ªbe located in one part of the womb, correct?

    ...

    Well, judging by what I was hearing, this particular blueberry was either humungous, or¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°Twins?! There''s fuckin'' twins in there?!¡± My realization came in the form of screaming which Heidi and the good doctor both misinterpreted as happy excitement. She squealed and bounced up and down with absolute bliss just before turning to hug me tightly. ¡°Oh Genghis, ain''t this great?!¡±

    Yeah...it''s great.

    ¡°Do you think they''ll be identical?!¡±

    It''s fucking fantastic.

    ¡°Dis is a most wonderful turn of events, you two! I dink you will both be extraordinary parents!¡±

    Two squalling kids.

    Two.

    ¡°What do you think they''ll look like? Think they''ll have my hair? Maybe your dark brown eyes?¡±

    I think I''m going to throw up.

    ¡°Mr. Boy, are you feeling well?¡±

    Fuck my life.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Genghis?¡±

    At least the floor felt nice and warm pressed against my increasingly pale face.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°Hello?¡±

    ¡°Leroy, I need to talk to you¡ªnow.¡±

    ¡°Sure sure, what''s going on?¡±

    ¡°No, not over the phone. Meet me downstairs.¡±

    ¡°Well, this is certainly urgent sounding. Did something happen?¡±

    ¡°Just meet me downstairs, Leroy!¡±

    ¡°Genghis, your tone has me concerned. What''s wrong?¡±

    ¡­

    ¡­

    My hand trembled on top of the cafe table. The Styrofoam cup beside it had already lost half a cup''s worth of coffee¡ªmost of it sloshing onto said table and only about two sips of it actually making it onto my taste-buds. The rest of my body''s motor control wasn''t doing too much better, if the constant knee-jerks in both of my legs as well as the occasional twitch in my left eye was any indicator. Even my voice sounded like it was limping home after winning an especially brutal street fight.

    Leroy, being the good buddy he was, sat at the opposite end of the table and patiently listened to me ramble on about my problems. ¡°So you''re saying you fainted?¡± I scratched the back of my neck, taking a steady breath through my mouth and nostrils. ¡°Yerp...that''s what happened.¡± He chuckled and took another sip out of his much cleaner Styrofoam cup.

    ¡°Zombies, torn limbs, severed heads talking to you...and children are what scare you?¡± I bit my lip, ignoring the three-hundredth knee-jerk coming from my right leg. ¡°I knew I was havin'' a baby, alright? I was perfectly okay with dealin'' with one screamin'' toddler at four in the mornin''. I wasn''t prepared to have fuckin'' two of them, though!¡± ¡°I tell yah, Genghis,¡± Leroy began, interrupting himself to take another sip of his coffee, ¡°when you fuck them, you really fuck them hard.¡±

    Hear that sound, Leroy?

    That''s the sound of me not laughing at your pathetic attempt to liven the mood.

    ¡°We have to go back in two weeks for an ultrasound,¡± I continued, pulling out a cigarette, ¡°Doc said that that would ultimately confirm if it''s twins or not. But I know better than to hope that his first deduction was a mistake. I got this feelin''.¡± I attempted to light up, but Leroy stopped me. ¡°Hey hey¡ªwe''re not allowed to smoke in here. Perhaps we should go outside first?¡± Instead of acknowledging his concerns with words, I just waved him off and lit up anyway.

    ¡°I''m in a serious bind, Leroy,¡± I mumbled through my cigarette. ¡°In several months, I''ll have a grand total of four mouths to feed, two asses constantly needing a diaper change, and one finger waitin'' to be outfitted with a fat ol'' diamond ring.¡± I took the cancer stick out long enough to exhale a noxious cloud of smoke. ¡°Heidi is countin'' on me to get us financially set for the twins. That means collectin'' all the shit we need, payin'' for all of her doctor visits, and gettin'' us the hell outta this hotel¡ªinto a real house with a fence, a yard, and a guard dog more interested in chasin'' his tail and humpin'' people''s legs than scarin'' off potential burglars.¡±

    I took another drag and blew my smoke out slowly, trying desperately to calm myself down. ¡°I gotta get rich soon, man. Hell, we both do. Maybe you can get your own place away from your two moms. Might get yourself a girl, guy, statue broad, dragon, or whatever the fuck you could possibly be into that way.¡± That statement got enough of a laugh out of Leroy that he decided to finally contribute to my rant. ¡°I love the two women that took me in, but you do have a point; getting a date is a little difficult when you''re nineteen years old and still having to ask your parents for permission to stay out late.¡± A weak chuckle came out of my mouth. ¡°Just doan get anyone pregnant, alright? We doan need two nervous wrecks stirrin'' up trouble in this city.¡±

    Just before I could stick the cigarette back into my mouth, a rolled up newspaper suddenly smacked me in the shoulder. ¡°Apagor¨¦vetai to k¨¢pnisma sto xenodoche¨ªo!¡± Speaking of statue broads, I looked behind me to see one looking down at me, wearing her hotel uniform. ¡°Piga¨ªnete ¨¦xo.¡± I cocked an eyebrow and took another hit. ¡°Lady, if you doan speak English or Italian, I ain''t gonna humor you with small talk. Now get lost.¡± Her fists tightened, though her facial expression didn''t change. Of course, I imagine it''s hard for statues to properly emote¡ªbeing made out of stone and all. ¡°Paravi¨¢zete tous kan¨®nes!¡±

    I flipped her the bird.

    ¡°Blow me, baby.¡±

    With another foreign grumble, the creepy mannequin finally stormed off. Heh, I guess they understand American hand gestures fairly well. ¡°Seriously Leroy, what the fuck are those things supposed to be?¡± He chuckled and finished off his cup of coffee. ¡°You ever read the tale of Pygmalion and his beloved Galatea?¡± I tilted my head and squinted. ¡°Pig who?¡±

    ¡°Pygmalion, Genghis. He was usually written as a king in Greek Mythology, but the most popular version of his tale depicts him as a simple sculptor, plagued by immense loneliness.¡± Leroy leaned back into his seat and crossed his arms. ¡°Pygmalion sought out perfection for every aspect of his life. He wanted the perfect profession, the perfect home and, of course, the perfect wife. Unfortunately no potential suitor was ever worth his time and love, as he held them all to outrageously high expectations. One day, Pygmalion thought to himself, ¡°If the perfect woman truly does not exist, than I shall craft her myself.¡± And so the man acquired what he considered his favorite material for sculpting¡ªivory¡ªand began to create the perfect woman. He worked day and night, limiting himself to only the bare minimum amount of breaks. Eventually, his project was not only complete, but a mesmerizing success. Long hair, hourglass figure, large breasts¡ªshe was truly perfect in his eyes; she was his Galatea. Even Aphrodite herself could see just how lovestruck the sculptor was with his creation, and so she brought life to the statue. From that moment on, Pygmalion and Galatea lived happily ever after, their love never wavering.¡±

    Well then.

    This Pygmalion dude sounds like a real freakshow, if you ask me.

    Leroy shrugged at the end of his story. ¡°Of course, nobody knows if that tale is true or not. The statue ladies are merely creations inspired by that legend. To serve as eye candy for men with particularly high standards.¡± More like standards so goddamn low that they''d fuck a trashcan so long as it was shaped like a woman. I took an extra long drag on my smoke after hearing this rather unnerving bullshit and leaned back in my chair. ¡°To each their own, but I like women who ain''t gonna scrub the skin off my dick with their weird rock flesh.¡± He sighed and nodded. ¡°I couldn''t agree more, friend.¡±

    Back on point¡­

    ¡°So anyway, enough talk about mannequin fuckers.¡± I dropped my cigarette into my Styrofoam cup, letting the now cold coffee extinguish it. ¡°You and me,¡± I said, now leaning forward and pointing at the both of us, ¡°we gotta lotta work to do. Our last job was successful, but nobody is ever gonna remember our names so long as we target small shops that most people doan even know exist.¡± I scratched the side of my face, still maintaining eye contact with Leroy. ¡°We have to start thinkin'' big, man. Bigger than small-time robberies¡ªbigger than slaughterin'' gangsters.¡± My cohort leaned forward, resting his arms atop our table. ¡°There aren''t many things I can think of that''s bigger than killing; lawful or otherwise.¡±

    Suddenly, after hours of dwelling on bad news, I smiled wickedly.

    Oh, my friend.

    It''s high time we enhance that imagination of yours.

    ¡°You ain''t thinkin'' hard enough, Leroy.¡± He gave me a look which needed no apologies; the look in my eyes was all the justification he needed for it. ¡°What''s on your mind, you whacked out loon?¡± I laughed loudly, my involuntary eye twitch making one last visit before packing his bags and fucking off to whatever part of my brain he came from. ¡°Murder alone ain''t shit, Leroy! All that''s good for is catharsis!¡±

    At this point, I stood up from my chair and started pacing back and forth. ¡°Nah man, you gotta have goods to go with the bloodshed! When a person is killed for nothin'', it''s a murder. When a person is properly brutalized¡ªsay his face is beaten so much that half his skull is missin''¡ªand everythin'' that was once his is taken from him, it becomes a message. In this day and age, life ain''t nearly as important as things. Things is fuckin'' money, man! Cheddar¡ªmoola! Life is life, sure. But take a man''s shit and suddenly it''s World War III. Compare it to datin'', if you will. When you''re horny and lookin'' to fuck, you normally doan need a whole lot to make you feel better¡ªjust a hot piece of ass and a place to get the deed done and over with. When you''re actually datin'' someone, though, you put work and effort into the relationship. You buy ''em flowers, take ''em out to the city once in a while, be nice to ''em, calmly deal with their asshole parents¡ªyou know, all that sentimental shit. The end result, if done correctly, is a mind-blowin'' experience that lasts a lifetime.¡± I stopped my pacing and walked up to Leroy, who was still just sitting there¡ªlistening to my rambling. ¡°That, my friend, is what we''re aimin'' for here.¡± He gave me another look and smirked. ¡°You want to kill, pillage, and then ultimately marry everybody on the island. Okay, simple enough.¡±

    Ha.

    Ha.

    ¡°No, you fuckwad. I wanna do somethin'' that will make a lastin'' impression on the people of Casa do Dia?o. If we''re gonna kill, there''s gotta be somethin'' we''re killin'' for! I''m talkin'' drugs, guns, whores, property, full-fledged heists! I want people''s blood to turn cold when they hear our names! I ain''t talkin'' ''bout this small-time shit like robbing grocery stores¡ªyou ain''t gonna make a livin'' offa that! And I ain''t talkin'' ''bout icin'' all these low-lifes on the streets¡ªthose bozos are a dime a dozen in this city! I mean Christ¡ªwho the fuck ain''t involved with some kinda criminal organization around here?!¡±

    Leroy stood from his chair and rubbed his hands together.

    And it was at that moment that he said something that truly resonated with me.

    Something that finally confirmed a suspicion I''d had since my first meeting with Zombie Bastard.

    Something that changed my life in the best way possible.

    ¡­

    ¡°We aren''t, but it sounds to me like you''re wanting to fix that.¡±

    ¡­

    My mouth hung open a little as my eyes fixated on his. ¡°What''d you say?¡± My friend began to laugh as he stepped closer to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. ¡°You heard me, Genghis Dillinger Boy. You claim to not want to waste time on gangsters, but yet you want control of all their rings. You want to run their whores, own their properties, sell their drugs...you want it all. You''ve sworn since I met you that you hadn''t the faintest idea of where you saw yourself in the next five years. But I think, deep down, you''ve known all along. I mean Hell, it took only one lousy robbery to drive you mad!¡±

    He grinned wide.

    ¡°Become the modern-day Genghis Khan. Take over this rotten island for everything it''s worth.¡±

    I looked down at the ground for a moment and then back at him, a strong laugh ready to erupt from out of my system. ¡°You think a nutcase like me can command a bunch of low-lives, Leroy?¡± He took his hands off my shoulders and took a step back. ¡°I don''t think any conqueror in history was particularly of a sound mind. Genghis Khan killed so many people that the Earth actually cooled down. Of course, he remedied that by fathering so many children that now over half of China is related to him.¡± He shook his head, chuckling. ¡°No offense my friend, but he makes you look like an over-zealous preacher delivering his Sunday morning sermon on the importance of abstinence until marriage.¡±

    And there was the eruption.

    Lemme tell ya, it was a loud one if the looks from the nearby hotel staff were anything to go off on.

    ¡°Man, fuck you!¡± I managed to say in the midst of my howling laughter. Honestly, I couldn''t tell if I was laughing at what he had to say, or I was laughing more so at myself and my own denseness. I mean, the solution to all of this had been RIGHT IN MY GODDAMN FACE this entire time, and I simply chose to ignore it. Why the Hell did I do that? I know I ain''t afraid of getting my hands dirty if it means getting something I want¡ªI''ve done it in the past and I can certainly do it now.

    Maybe it was Heidi stopping me.

    Yeah.

    She never wanted me to follow through with this lifestyle.

    Said it would either land me in prison or an early grave.

    But look...now is as good time as any to take this place over.

    Come August, I''ll have two kids that I need to provide and care for.

    If they''re gonna live their lives to the fullest here, I need to make some preparations.

    I''m sorry Heidi, but Daddy''s gotta lot of baby-proofing to do.

    Once my laughing finally stopped, I wiped the wetness out of my eyes and looked at my good friend. ¡°You''re really good at bein'' the devil on my shoulder, you know that?¡± He rolled his eyes, letting out another chuckle. ¡°Shit, if anything you''re the devil on my shoulder.¡± I continued to grin at my eager cohort as my own eagerness shined through both my eyes and my voice. ¡°Maybe this island needs a pair of devils like us.¡± Leroy reclaimed his seat and gestured for me to do the same. ¡°Let us not waste anymore time, then. Let''s brainstorm for a little while.¡± I held a finger up. ¡°First, I''ll order us some more coffee.¡± He nodded and I walked off.

    Maybe this island did need a pair of devils like us.

 Chapter Eighteen: Operation Armored Raccoons; Part 1/5

    Good evening, Class.

    I''m your incredibly handsome teacher, Mr. Boy.

    Now I know you kids love being bored to death with math problems and shit, but that ain''t happening today.

    Because, you see, I got a PhD in having nothing better to do but begrudgingly talk about my week.

    Yessir, it''s ¡°Show and Tell Day¡± in this oh-so-humble classroom of mine.

    So you better open up those books and start taking notes.

    I may quiz you later.

    ¡­

    Alright, so I''m gonna be frank with you guys; I got a bad habit of taking things a little too far. Of course, I''m sure you already knew that. Shit, my entire life thus far has been one instance after another of me taking things to extremes they were never meant to be taken to. And Leroy...that guy is either Lucifer in disguise, or he''s simply too eager for his own damn good. If I wanted to, I could attempt to pin the blame on him for this recent scheme of ours.

    But, really, I honestly couldn''t. After it''s all been said and done, it was still my idea; Leroy simply sailed along with me to the riverfront and back. There''s probably questions circulating around those curious brains of yours, I''m sure. How did the river flow? How rough was the current? Did our boat hit any snags along the way? Did any larger-than-life fish try to make dinner outta us? Where was the destination, even?

    All of that will be answered in due time, don''t you worry.

    For now, just listen to what I gotta say.

    So as we left off, I was a goddamn wreck. I just learned that me and the love of my life were having not one baby, but fucking two. Heidi, despite now spending most of her days on the toilet while simultaneously bitching about how tight all her pairs of pants are, was so happy the day that Doctor Okafor broke the news to us that she couldn''t¡ªfor the life of her¡ªunderstand what I was so worried about. ¡°Don''t worry ''bout it, babyboy. The fact you''re so scared about it just means you''ll be extra prepared when the time comes!¡±

    Sure, Heidi. That''s what I need to hear. I should just simply continue to lose multiple nights worth of sleep during the entirety of your pregnancy so that I''m better prepared to lose multiple nights worth of sleep during the first few years of our kids'' lives. Baby, no. You need me alive for their eighteenth birthday party; not dead by their first.

    So, with a little help from my good pal Leroy Barris, I was able to finally¡ªtruly¡ªaccept the reality of where I was living at and realize that I needed to be the biggest and baddest this shithole of a Wonderland had to offer. I know you bozos are all probably rolling your eyes at this very moment, saying shit like, ¡°Look dude, we all knew it was gonna come down to this. It''s been foreshadowed several times throughout this bullshit journey of yours. You''re just unbelievably slow.¡± And you know what? Maybe, for once, you''re right. In this particular instance, I admittedly was an idiot. From the very get-go, I was receiving signs telling me what I needed to do and I let certain things keep me from following through with those wild ideas.

    So there.

    You got me.

    I''m a dumbass.

    Ha ha ha.

    Laugh it up, you buncha sweaty pencil-necks.

    Either way, I now had every reason to throw caution to the wind and indulge in the colossal power-trip that had been beating the insides of my brain for far too long. Heidi might not be too thrilled once she learns what I''ve been up to, but what choice does she have here? What choice do either of us have? We''re hurting for money and, truth be told, I don''t trust this wasteland enough to let my offspring just wander around freely; not without me having some kind of stranglehold on the super-powered barbarians dragging their testicles all over the streets, anyway. This island needs a firm snuff in the jaw. It needs to learn that man is in charge; not a bunch of rabid beasts. It needs me pulling the strings attached to all those cheap mass-produced puppets. And so the ol'' gears of my mental factory were then oiled-up enough to turn nonstop until something was churned out.

    And boy, it was certainly something.

    It was big.

    It was magical.

    It was easily the stupidest fucking idea I''ve ever had.

    We called it ¡°Operation Armored Raccoons¡±. Now, lemme break that name down for you a little. First of all, what''s the first thing you think of when you hear the word ¡°armor¡±? Shields? Knights? Bulletproof vests? If these were some of your answers, then congratulations¡ªyou ain''t wrong. Yeah, all those things are forms of armor; however, one must really pop that restrictive bubble of comfort they''re living in if they want to protect themselves from the destructive forces out to get them on a daily basis.

    Which brings me to my next point; the ¡°Raccoons¡± bit of ¡°Operation Armored Racoons¡±. Raccoons, as you may already know, are little furry animals that typically live in trees and often choose to come out at night. They''re scavengers, which means that they''ll eat just about anything they can get their hands on; even garbage. In other words, these bastards are merciless thieves who will stop at nothing to get their next meal.

    Now, before you start putting two and two together, I want you to really think about where I''m going with this. If you look at my breakdown subjectively, you''re gonna wind up with some dimwitted conclusion such as, ¡°Oh, you want to steal something big like a car or a big diesel truck. Big whoop; that ain''t gonna help you any.¡± Well, you got the ¡°stealing¡± part right. Otherwise, that is a MASSIVE oversimplification of what me and Leroy were aiming to accomplish through ¡°Operation Armored Raccoons¡± and¡ªquite frankly¡ªyou oughta be ashamed of yourself for thinking so goddamn basically.

    Let''s think objectively for a little while, shall we? As I said before, armor typically refers to the protective gear that you wear when you go out to do battle with some shmuck and his cronies. But that''s just not enough. There is so much more to protection than simply taping up your knuckles or strapping on some geeky helmet courtesy of your high school wrestling team. Because let''s face it; all that extra padding can only do so much when some asshole is constantly knocking you down and bloodying up your face. You gotta fight back. You gotta make damn sure that they not only can''t hurt you, but that they can''t even get close enough to try.

    I ain''t just talking about cars or body vests.

    I''m talking about defense.

    Weapons.

    Ammunition.

    Heavy machinery.

    Valuable intel.

    And much, much more.

    I''m talking about leverage.

    And guess what, ladies and gentlemen? This pair of raccoons was dead set on scavenging up as much of this equipment that was humanly possible for two lowly crooks to scavenge up. And, thanks to Leroy''s wider range of knowledge regarding Casa do Dia?o as a whole, we knew exactly where to go. However, there were two problems that we needed to think about before giving this place an unsolicited visit.

    One, this place was nearly a thousand miles away in Leste District. This particular problem was more of an issue for me, but I''ll touch up on that a little later. Two, this place was home to the Defensores da Illa. According to Leroy, that name translates to ¡°Defenders of the Island¡±. Aside from having overpowered abilities of their own, they are a group of soldiers that have top-notch technology and weaponry on their side to ensure that no ghastly forces outside the island can cause any trouble.

    That''s right, folks. Casa do Dia?o don''t got any cops, but they sure as shit got their own army. And not just your average everyday jar-heads with superiority complexes either¡ªthese fucks were goddamn super soldiers. These guys were specifically trained to defeat any kind of monster in a fight. Undead, giant, invisible, demonic, celestial¡ªyou name it! Basically, your chances at surviving an encounter with these guys is incredibly low...but Christ Almighty were we gonna steal their shit and live to tell the tale! Do you see now why I said that this was my stupidest idea ever?

    So, for our earlier set of questions regarding our magnificent¡ªand highly metaphorical¡ªboat ride, you now know where the destination ultimately was. As for the rest of the questions that were initially asked, I''m sure you can give a fairly accurate guess as to what the answers probably are. But trust me when I say that this whole thing ended in a way that even I couldn''t of possibly seen coming. And honestly, by the time you''re done reading about this plan in it''s entirety, I''m sure you''ll be thinking the same thing.

    ¡­

    Operation Armored Raccoons, phase one.

    ¡­

    For this carefully constructed heist, we each took on different jobs. This allowed us to even the workload while also allowing ourselves to work off of each others'' strengths. Now, even though I''m a pretty amazing and talented individual, there were still some areas that Leroy had me beat in. Not too many areas, but a few.

    For starters, he grew up in Casa do Dia?o and knew the land like the back of his hand. He also knew more people than I did¡ªwhich meant that he could possibly gain us access to the heavily guarded military base through a friend of a friend that owes him a favor. If that wasn''t a possibility, then he could¡ªat the very least¡ªhelp us acquire the necessary information we needed in order to make a house-call; you know, without snipers readying their trigger fingers upon our arrival. Because, thinking realistically for a moment here, we''d have a better chance at getting our faces struck by lightning forty-seven times in a row than we would being able to successfully sneak onto an entire army base infested with freakishly powerful super-soldiers without any kind of aid to assist us whatsoever.

    But I digress.

    Besides all that, Leroy ain''t got shit on me.

    ¡­

    Nope, there''s nothing else.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Alright alright, I get it.

    He has his motherfucking water powers, too.

    I do very much enjoy it when more salt is applied to my already fresh wounds.

    But you know what?

    I''m still a better shot than him.

    Not to mention that while Leroy''s got some connections that could allow us to make it into the Defensores da Illa''s district-wide headquarters, he ain''t quite got the same level of creativity that I got when it comes to manipulation. Sure, he used a fucking horse to communicate with me once upon a time...but that doesn''t really count. After all, it can''t be considered manipulation if you''re simply trying to repay a favor someone had done for you many years ago...which apparently was the case here. Lemme just say that time paradoxes make my head ache something awful.

    Anyway, back on point, I pride myself in being quite the connoisseur of manipulation tactics. There''s so much you can accomplish when you remember that everybody has the same wiring programmed into their brains. Sure, you got people that operate a little differently than you do, but you both got the same response to certain...let''s call ''em ¡°malfunctions¡±. Allow me to drop several basic examples on top of you.

    If you''re feeling bored, you''ll seek to entertain yourself. If you''re feeling challenged, you''ll fight until you''re the only one standing. If you''re feeling lonely, you''ll jump at the opportunity to meet someone that you can connect with either as a friend or as a lover. If you''re feeling uncomfortable, you''ll do whatever it takes to get outta the uncomfortable situation and into one that is more pleasing to deal with.

    Knowing damn well just how powerful all of these feelings can be in a time of need is the key to successfully playing somebody. All you have to do is pick one emotion and make sure your target not only feels it, but feels it so strongly that the lack of release is putting their sanity through the goddamn shredder. Sure, they may fight at first. They may still hold on tightly to that inborn human need to crave the world¡ªonly to lash out when they only receive one world. But the pressure will only grow. And grow. And grow until it''s too much for them to handle. Soon their capacity for freewill will completely vanish. John Doe is no longer his own man; he''s yours. And you''re free to do whatever you please with him so long as he clings on to the belief that he''ll get his release in the end. For he has succumbed to an unbearable disease of the mind known as ¡°Desperation¡±.

    I''ve spent years perfecting this skill of mine. Leroy knew this, and easily voted me in as the ¡°negotiator¡± for ¡°Operation Armored Raccoons¡±. Though he also volunteered me for the ¡°carjacker¡± position, which confused me a little. I reminded him that we were still a ways off from seeing the end of the Snowpocalyse of 1990. Ain''t nobody driving out on these roads unless they got a snowmobile or something...which I already did. So there was really no point to that job; not unless he wanted me to steal one of the army''s tanks or some shit. But even then, why would only one of us jack a tank? Why not both of us take one so we got a spare? I mean shit¡ªain''t the point of this gig for us to come out with both firepower and the infamy that goes with robbing the military and living through it all? Goons don''t just grow on trees, Leroy! We gotta prove that we ain''t just two jokers trying to fuck the system! And two tanks are surely better than one, right?!

    He smiled and told me that I was thinking too far into it.

    I then asked him to kindly elaborate for me so I wouldn''t misunderstand him.

    His only response to that was, ¡°You''ll see.¡±

    I looked at him for a moment and sighed.

    There was no point in arguing with a seasoned veteran of the land.

    After all, he knew more about the island than I did.

    And so, once we had all our jobs assigned, we set out to put simple ideas into action.

    ¡­

    Step One: Research, research, research.

    ¡­

    The first step in ¡°Operation Armored Racoons¡± was by far the easiest one to accomplish¡ªwhich is why I didn''t feel too bad about Leroy doing it all by himself. What? I got a pregnant lady at home that needs constant attention, alright? She was furious the last time I had to abandon her for a couple of days, just in case you don''t remember. So I needed a few days to kinda...prepare her for my absence. Shower her with affection day and night, buy shitloads of food, get her plenty of bubble bath to soak in, rent a couple of her favorite movies¡ªet cetera, et cetera.

    Now, even though I was okay with Leroy taking on this assignment alone, I still found myself growing very impatient. For three days, I didn''t hear anything from him. I knew damn well what he was doing and how he was spending his day, but I''d be lying if I said that I didn''t care. I did care¡ªa little too much. If I were wearing shoes, I would''ve easily worn out the soles with all the back and forth walking I''d done. Leroy needed to get me something quick¡ªhe needed to be faster! Don''t get me wrong, the time I spent with Heidi was time I very much cherished. But as much as I enjoyed my alone time with her, there was work needing to be done¡ªmessages needing to be delivered. Havoc to wreak!

    Unfortunately for me, Heidi noticed that I was on edge. How couldn''t she? She''s known me long enough to know when something was on my mind, no matter how hard I tried to keep it to myself. Sure, I pace a lot whenever I''m anxious about something, but c''mon. Why couldn''t she just accept ¡°I''m bored¡± as a valid reason as to why I was doing it? I know she meant well and everything, but still. Kinda pisses me off sometimes.

    But at least she never accused me of anything.

    She just kissed me and put my hand on her belly.

    Told me I''ll be a good dad.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    I hope she''s right.

    I need her to be right.

    I refuse to become my old man.

    I refuse!

    I''d rather die than let that happen, you hear me?!

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Anyway...

    Back on point.

    Once Leroy finally called to tell me that he found the information he was looking for, I found myself bolting down the hall like I was running away from a tornado ripping into the city. Thankfully, I remembered to tell him that I was on my way in the midst of my immense excitement; otherwise I would''ve probably crashed into his door like a spastic retard. Instead, he waited for me with an open door...and paid the price dearly when I rammed right into him, swung us around, and pinned him against his wall.

    It took him a grand total of four seconds to realize what had happened.

    And once it hit him, he laughed loudly.

    ¡°Well! I typically find flowers and chocolates to be quite the romantic gesture, but this also works!¡±

    I groaned and backed away from him. ¡°Dude, save the jokes for later! What did you learn about the base?!¡± He didn''t respond at first, instead just roaring with wild amusement over what I considered to be a perfectly reasonable reaction to hearing good news. Gee, I''m glad he found humor in my nearly-crippling anxiety.

    After a few moments of losing his sides to the zero gravity of outer space, his girly laughter eventually simmered down to a chuckle. ¡°Straight to business, I see! That''s good!¡± He cleared his throat and straightened his expression. ¡°Okay, so I didn''t dig too deeply into some of the policies around the base itself; I figured it would be best to do that while we''re on the road so it''s fresh on our minds.¡± He flashed me a confident grin. ¡°However, I did do some digging into the military''s regulations as imposed by the politicians over in Centro District.¡±

    I cocked an eyebrow and crossed my arms. ¡°This shithole of an island has a government? And laws?¡± He nodded. ¡°Indeed. Granted, crime doesn''t seem to be a major priority to them. Why would it be? Criminals are the ones making it possible for them to live comfortably in their fancy penthouses and enjoy their five-thousand ficha bottle of champagne at the end of each day. What they are concerned with¡ªprimarily¡ªis security through isolation. That''s where our technologically-advanced friends over in Leste District come in.¡±

    I stared straight into his eyes, my facial expression never changing. ¡°Go on...¡± Leroy sighed, obviously a little hesitant to tell me the catch to all of this. ¡°Before we can do anything with that base, we need the proper documents on hand.¡± I groaned loudly. I knew that there was gonna be some level of tedium to making this plan work¡ªtrust me, I knew. But still...there was always something in the way. There was always something in my fucking way.

    Be patient, Genghis.

    This is just another dab in that giant painting you''re working on.

    ¡°What kind of documents and how much red tape do we have to cut through to get them?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Not too much, thankfully. Just a few things that need to be signed and notarized. However, the downside to this is that we have to be there in person to complete the paperwork. With all of these ruffians running around the island, they want to make sure their military doesn''t fall victim to some kind of terrorist attack.¡±

    That got a laugh outta me.

    Politicians trying to protect a bunch of overpowered soldiers from terrorists.

    I repeat.

    Politicians...trying to protect a bunch of overpowered soldiers...from terrorists.

    It was like a helicopter parent complaining to a teacher about their child having to do classwork.

    It was so ridiculous that it almost made me feel less intimidated by the warmongering bastards.

    I mean look at me¡ªcomparing the Defensores da Illa to fucking children!

    ¡°I''m not even gonna ask you to explain that one to me, man.¡± Leroy took another quick breath, chuckling along with me. ¡°I know; it''s biscuits to a bear!¡± ...biscuits to a bear. Biscuits...to a bear. What? I cocked an eyebrow, but then shook my head and dropped my hands down to my hips. Maybe after some time, I''ll eventually come to understand Leroy''s confusing Irish-speak.

    ¡°We gotta go there in person to do this shit?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Leroy nodded, ¡°Sadly, they do not offer notary services for this particular process. So we have to make a bare minimum of two trips to Breog¨¢n Capital Hall in order to get this task completed.¡± That statement earned another groan from yours truly. Who knew robbing the military required so much goddamn paperwork? ¡°Is it too late to just say ¡°fuck it¡± and find another way into the base?¡±

    Leroy flashed me another grin and held one of his index fingers up. ¡°You forget...I know people. I know a boy that works in Centro District. Ordained minister formally from Germany, though he primarily works with weddings and baptisms. Says that the ¡°sermon game¡± isn''t for him; his real passion is architecture and art.¡± He wiggled his eyebrows at me. ¡°He''s not only able to notarize our papers, he''s more than willing to assist us any way he can.¡±

    Well, who can blame him?

    If my job was to perform shotgun weddings and then dunk the couples'' screaming babies into water, I''d consider a change of careers down the road, too.

    ¡°So...you''re sayin'' that we doan gotta spend twenty years waitin'' for a buncha suits to grant us clearance into the base?¡± Leroy nodded enthusiastically. ¡°That''s precisely what I''m saying!¡± The gears in my head spun again and a wicked grin spread across my face. ¡°So really, we have everythin'' we need to get access to this base.¡± He clapped his hands once before holding them out. ¡°Indeed! In fact, if you''re willing, we can leave first thing in the marning!¡±

    Like a duo of stereotypical cartoon villains, we both broke out into loud laughter. This news was a major relief, my friends. Here I was, thinking that we were gonna be stuck waiting countless months for the lazy clerks over in Centro District to get something back to us. Perhaps I was too used to the half-assery that runs rampant in the United States...or maybe all of the years living with Roy and Dad have turned me into such a cynical douche that I immediately expect people to slack off whenever I need something done. I dunno. All I did know was that things seemed to be starting off on a very good note for us. We had a pretty picture outlined before us; we now needed to add the color to it. How did the river flow? Why, it seemed to be flowing very smoothly¡ªthanks for asking!

    After a moment of excited cackling, Leroy''s face suddenly fell.

    ¡°That is if, of course, Heidi is willing to let you go for a couple of days.¡±

    And that was when my laughter ultimately died.

    He just had to remind me, didn''t he?

    ¡°Yeah...give me a day, alright? We''ll leave first thing Sunday mornin''¡±

    ¡­

    I watched her from the comfort of our queen-sized bed. She had stepped into the bathroom to grab a wet rag so she could wash my slowly oozing semen off her right inner thigh. It was kind of funny to watch, but not in the amusing sense¡ªmore like in the ¡°who would''ve thought we''d end up here¡± sense. Making love to each other was always so risky back in Brooklyn, you know?

    There was always the fear that either Roy or my old man would walk in on us. What would they have done if they caught us in the act? How disappointed would Roy have been with his precious little girl? How bad of a beating would he have given me? What about the beating from my dad? It didn''t help that Heidi constantly had Paul on her mind, as well. What if he found out about her affair? What if one of her girlfriends found out that she was seeing another guy behind his back? What if Genghis decided to do her wrong and tell him himself?

    Now here we are.

    I''m watching her clean my cum off her leg.

    Paul is forever outta the picture.

    So are our fathers.

    We''re starting a family together.

    She''s mine¡ªall mine!

    And despite the mess we were in, I''ll always pick her over any other woman.

    Irrational pregnancy hormones and all.

    Speaking of...I had to take a deep breath and brace myself for her reaction to the bad news I was about to drop on her. ¡°I have to leave for a few days.¡± She stopped mid-wipe and looked over at me. ¡°When? Now?¡± Oh boy, here we go. ¡°Sunday. Sunday mornin''.¡± She stared at me, hurt stinging her face like a swarm of angry bees. I sighed, knowing damn well the shit storm that was about to hit.

    ¡°W-Where you goin''?¡± Heidi asked as she continued to clean herself up, voice low but not angry-sounding¡ªnot yet, anyway. ¡°I''m headin'' over to Centro District for a surveyin'' gig. Some senator is wantin'' to install this giant-ass swimmin'' pool in his back yard. Needs a guy to come give him the specifications required to do it¡ª''cuz doin'' it himself is just too hard for his lazy ass.¡± She didn''t change her facial expression, instead just nodding really slowly and speaking nearly in a whisper. ¡°That''s okay...gotta get that money somehow, I guess...¡±

    Temper tantrum in three.

    ¡°You have a job to do, after all...I can''t just keep you here all the time...¡±

    Two.

    ¡°I mean, why would you wanna stay home with a fat, overly-emotional bitch like me?¡±

    One.

    ¡°There''s so many other pretty girls out there, anyway! I''m sure you ain''t tellin'' dem skanks ¡°no¡± when they offer to suck your cock for a measly ten fichas!¡±

    Zero.

    ¡°You fuckin'' asshole!¡± With these words, she grabbed the glass jar containing our toothbrushes and lobbed it at my head. Thankfully, I rolled off the bed in time for her to miss and hit the wall, glass shattering all over the bed. ¡°Heidi, stop it! I ain''t even cheatin'' on you! Why would you¡ª¡± Before I knew it, she was charging at me, screaming obscenities. ¡°Fuck you, Genghis Dillinger Boy! Fuck you! Fuck you!¡± She tried to tackle me, but I caught her mid-lunge and pinned her against the wall.

    Dear sons and/or daughters, I love you both.

    I really do.

    But you''re both grounded the moment you''re born.

    So fucking grounded.

    I can''t blame your mom for her batshit crazy behavior, so you''ll have to take the blame.

    So, yeah.

    No TV for a year.

    Love, Dad.

    ¡°Let go of me, you fuckin'' pig!¡± She tried to yank away from my grasp, but I held on to her arms tightly, holding them above her head. ¡°Heidi, listen to me for a second! If I was gonna cheat on you, why the hell would I have agreed to bring you to Casa do Dia?o with me? Doan you think I would''ve left your ass back in America?!¡± Her eyes widened, tears threatening to spill any minute. ¡°You left me in New York! You did! I had to come find you!¡± I growled loudly. ¡°I was on the run, Heidi! I had no choice but to leave you that time! But you know what?! I called you! I called you and told you where I was at! I did that because I missed you! Because I love you! Because I ain''t fuckin'' cheatin'' on you! Do you understand me?!¡±

    In hindsight, maybe yelling at her wasn''t a good idea.

    Maybe losing my cool with a highly fragile pregnant lady was not one of the best calls to make.

    But shit dude, I''m only human!

    With my nerves constantly being shot and worries always clouding my mind, I felt like a ticking time-bomb.

    And her throwing a fucking jar at me didn''t help matters, either.

    I stopped myself for just a minute to take a deep breath. No need to make things worse than they already were, right? ¡°Look Heidi, I''m saw¡ª¡± Before I could apologize, she exploded in a hysterical crying fit. ¡°Oh Genghis! Please! Please don''t say you''re sawrry! I''m the one that should be sawrry! You shouldn''t have to apologize to me! You did nothin'' wrong! You really didn''t!¡± My heart ached. Even though the waterworks were usually a good sign that her wrath was gone, I still felt bad every time she cried like this. Being the bad guy suited me well for most things, but not with Heidi. Never with Heidi. I wanted to be her hero¡ªnot the mustache twirling, hand rubbing goof that leaves her tied onto the railroad tracks.

    With that, I let go of her arms. She immediately wrapped them around me, holding me close and crying into my chest. I wrapped mine around her, rubbing her back soothingly. She whimpered several ¡°I''m sorrys¡± against me, and I decided to react with the one thing that I knew would calm her down; laughter. I chuckled and kissed her neck.

    ¡°I forgave you before this even began, babygirl! Doan you worry.¡±

    ¡­

    The next day was a lot calmer than the night before had been. Heidi apologized for her behavior several times throughout the day, and I kept telling her that she was already forgiven. Nevertheless, she insisted on making the day about me and treated me to all sorts of nice things. She cooked me breakfast, lunch, and dinner, gave me a really nice back-rub, cuddled up with me, riffed TV shows with me for a while, and ended the day by giving me a fucking amazing blowjob.

    All in all, it was a pretty good day.

    It was then on Sunday, January 21<sup>st </sup>that I had to tell her good-bye. I got outta bed before sunrise, took a shower, and dressed my skin with gray boxer-briefs, blue jeans, socks and boots, a black wife-beater, a green bomber jacket, my black and white fedora, and my aviator shades so that no chunks of snow could pound into my eyes during the drive. Then I packed a bag, grabbed my gun, keys and smokes, and kissed Heidi on the lips before walking out the door to rendezvous with Leroy. Naturally, I found him standing beside my snowmobile in the parking lot of the hotel. Though, I found him standing with a familiar face; a face that I hadn''t seen for a while.

    ¡°Good marning, Genghis! I found this little fella keeping your ride nice and warm!¡± Sure enough, he was referring to that damn pumpkin-eyed cat¡ªthe one that was responsible for making me pass out in the hotel lobby...ironically to dream about Leroy. Awkward. The little bastard was cuddled up in his arms like a newborn baby, purring loudly enough for me to hear him while I lit up my first smoke of the day.

    ¡°Ain''t that nice of him?¡± I responded sarcastically just before looking the feline in the face. ¡°Hope you doan expect us to let you tag along. ''Cuz that sure as shit ain''t happenin'' today.¡± The black cat mewed at the sound of my voice and rolled over in Leroy''s arms. I figured the smug asshole would remember me.

    ¡°Sawrry, I doan think I was clear enough. I said you ain''t comin'' with us.¡± He said nothing this time; instead just staring straight into my soul with his big eyes. I snorted, taking a drag on my cigarette. ¡°I''m pretty damn sure you can''t drive a car or shoot a gun, so bringin'' you would only hinder our operation. Capiche?¡±

    After the third time of telling this overly persistent creature that he wasn''t welcome on our mission, I think he finally understood what I was saying. Keep in mind, however, that just because he understood my words, it didn''t necessarily mean he accepted them. I say this because he immediately focused all of his attention onto Leroy and flashed him the biggest, most pathetic ¡°sad eyes¡± I''ve ever seen; essentially treating my final say-so like a child treats the word ¡°no¡± when uttered by the more domineering parent.

    And of fucking course, the giant softie fell right into his incredibly obvious trap.

    ¡°Genghis, stop being so mean him! This poor little creature is just lost¡ªand rightly knackered from the cold! Perhaps we can bring him inside and treat him to some breakfast?¡± Oh sweet, gentle, oh-so-stupid Leroy. ¡°Ay man, you remember that one time that you made this big ass analogy about lions and snakes? Why doan you follow your own advice and put the damn cat down?¡± He laughed loudly and shook his head. ¡°Alright, you big bully; I''m going to take this fella inside and let Alexander deal with him. We''ll leave as soon as I return.¡± I rolled my eyes behind my shades and took another hit of my inevitable death sentence.

    You know, I realized something that morning. For somebody so concerned about my well-being, Leroy didn''t seem to care too much about his own. He talked all this shit about how I needed to watch myself, and yet he was barely willing to entertain the idea that not all Casa do Dia?oesqe monsters were humanoid. And honestly, there was really only one possible reason that I could think of as to why that was the case.

    Leroy was orphaned at an incredibly young age, meaning that he learned the ropes on how to survive this colossal mousetrap of an island way early on. Meanwhile, I''ve only been here for a month and still am learning new shit everyday. He''s already proven that he''s powerful enough to survive Casa do Dia?o without too much help, so why would he be scared for himself? I''m the one at a major disadvantage here, not him. So I''m betting that he kinda sees a little bit of me in that tiny, manipulative little furball that he''s cradling. Of course, I could be way wrong and it turns out that he''s just a massive sucker for cute animals¡ªso much so that he''s willing to risk his life to pet one that may or may not be dangerous. How embarrassing it would be for a big, tough water wizard to meet his undoing at the hands of his deadliest foe yet...a small, fluffy kitten?

    Once Leroy and Little Bastard were out of earshot, I chortled at the mere thought.

    ¡°Dumbass.¡±

 Chapter Nineteen: Operation Armored Raccoons; Part 2/5

    ¡­

    Step Two: Shut up and drive.

    ¡­

    Once Leroy was done ¡°awwing¡± over the little asshole that lives in the hotel parking lot, we got our shit together and hit the road. As always, I drove my snowmobile while he surfed beside me on his conjured snow wave. I tell you, he''s in for a rude awakening once all this damn snow finally melts and he''s forced to drive an actual car like everyone else. Because guess who ain''t gonna chauffeur his lazy ass around town? Me, that''s who! Colonel Call-Yourself-A-Cab himself! Yessir, he''ll have to pray for rain every single day if he wants to effectively show off his stupid powers to anybody with a pair of eyes stuck onto their face.

    Until then, however, he took full advantage of his abilities by indulging in a particularly fond pastime of his.

    Guess what that pastime was.

    No seriously, take a wild guess.

    ¡°By the Goddess! Out of all the snowmobiles you could''ve stolen, why did you choose the slowest one?!¡±

    That''s right, folks; heckling yours truly over his shitty ride.

    ¡°Oh, pardon me! I''ll remember next time we take one of these long road trips to first eat your precious goddess''s pussy out so she''ll give me powers, too!¡± Leroy scoffed loudly, shaking his finger at me. ¡°Now, now! Don''t you be jealous because the Great Mother personally handpicked me to be her Shepard! Sometimes, the universe just seems to favor certain individuals over others! Some people are rich, and some are poor! Some people are healthy while others are not! And some people are naturally fast¡ªwhile others are stuck driving at agonizingly low speeds in the middle of the Winter season!¡±

    I gritted my teeth, shooting him a disapproving glare. ¡°There ain''t nothin'' natural about surfin'' on a wave made entirely of ice! People doan surf on snow, Leroy! They surf on water¡ªfuckin'' water!¡± He flashed me an obnoxious grin. ¡°Snow is water, Genius! That''s why I''m able to manipulate it! Besides, what about the children that slide down snowy hills atop their wooden sleighs?! Or the adults who slide down mountains on a pair of skis?! And aren''t snowboards basically surfboards made for snow?! Face it, Genghis¡ªall of these activities technically fall under the category of ¡°surfing on snow¡±!¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°No they doan! Those activities all fall under the category of ¡°sleddin''¡±! Sleddin'' is completely different than surfin''!¡± ¡°How so?!¡± he called out, holding his arms out, ¡°explain to me, Mister Big Apple, how sledding and surfing are any different from one another!¡±

    Now it was my turn to hold my arm out while shades of bewilderment colored the face behind my aviators. ¡°Dude, really?! I gotta explain this shit to you?!¡± Leroy crossed his arms and smiled widely. ¡°Indeed! I am so very intrigued to learn about these nature-based sports from a city boy!¡± This level of stupidity was enough to warrant my palm slapping my forehead¡ªprobably hard enough to leave a hand-print. ¡°Snow is static, you putz! Snow doan flow freely at all! Surfin'' is a sport that involves riding free-flowin'' elements¡ªlike water that ain''t fuckin'' frozen and stuck to the ground! Which brings me back to the original point! People! Doan! Surf! On snow!¡± My mouth-breather of a partner was quiet for a moment and then nodded. ¡°Rationalize it all you want¡ªsnow is still water! Therefore, snow can be surfed on!¡±

    I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the ever-growing headache this goof was giving me.

    ¡°Rationalize it all you want¡ªyou''re still an idiot!¡±

    He flashed me another grin; this one overly smug like he just won a single-leg race.

    ¡°I''m a correct idiot, if that be the case!¡±

    I sighed heavily.

    I swear.

    Once ¡°Operation Armored Raccoons¡± is done and over with, I''m punching this fuck nugget right in the nose.

    And guess what?

    That wasn''t even the end of the ¡°piss-giving¡±, as Mister Irish McPot-Of-Gold liked to put it.

    And my attempt to change the subject after a minute of silence was completely in vain.

    ¡°So! ''Bout how long you thinkin'' it''ll take to make it to the Breegan Buildin'' in Centro District?!¡± After asking this simple and purely innocent question, Leroy gave me a look like I had just spoken Mandarin to him. ¡°What?! What did you say?!¡± At first, I thought nothing of this miscommunication. The wind had been hitting our faces pretty hard as we drove through Oeste District during the early hours of the morning¡ªso much so that I had to stop at one point and pack my hat into my bag lest I lose it to the snowy oblivion. Stupid wind; always trying to stunt a man''s need to be stylish. And with the sun only barely shining over the horizon, we were both freezing our asses off. All in all, the combination of the strong wind current, the overly brick weather, and the loud rumble of my snowmobile made for a couple of lapses in our overall conversation.

    So I raised my voice a bit more and asked him the question again. Unfortunately, he still seemed to have trouble hearing me. ¡°I apologize, but I think the eerie howls of nature keep getting in the way of your question! Can you ask me again, but a little more clearly this time?!¡± I groaned and repeated myself once more¡ªthis time very, very slowly. ¡°How long...''til we...get to...the Breegan Buildin''?!¡±

    Thankfully, he understood me that time.

    But, for whatever reason, he found my question funny.

    Hilarious, even.

    ¡°Ah!¡± he managed to squawk in the midst of his rib-cracking laughter, ¡°So you were saying that!¡±

    Leroy then spent the next minute and a half nearly wetting himself over a joke that I clearly missed. Seriously, what the freshly-picked fuck was so funny about asking for an E.T.A.? Sure, we hadn''t been traveling for too long at this point of the journey...but I felt that it was something I needed to keep mental tabs on, you know? It ain''t like I''m a kid sitting in the backseat of a car, shouting ¡°Are we there yet, Leroy?! I''m hungry! I feel carsick! I gotta go to the bathroom!¡± or whatever other stupid, whiny complaint that could be thrown into the mix.

    I guess that was another thing I noticed about Leroy that day. He seemed to find humor in everything¡­and I do mean literally everything. This includes jokes that not even my Nonno Lorenzo would''ve found funny¡ªand he laughed harder at Saturday morning cartoons than me and Heidi ever did! Now, to all you nerds sitting there thinking, ¡°The fuck''s wrong with Saturday mornin'' cartoons, Genghis?!¡±, I want you to keep in mind that whatever shit you used to watch on TV as a kid ain''t the same shit I had to watch. I was born in the Spring of ''69, which means that I had to deal with the lousy cartoons of both the ''70s and the ''80s. And when I say he laughed at these shows, I meant that he''d break the silence by suddenly screaming like a wild hyena over Captain Caveman shouting out his incredibly stupid catchphrase.

    Yeah, you heard that right.

    He thought ¡°Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels¡± was funny.

    Captain fucking Caveman!

    Possibly the lamest superhero of all time!

    Christ, even Hong Kong Phooey was more of a bad-ass than this clown!

    And yet, despite all of that, Ol'' Lorenzo still had higher standards than Mister Barris had when it came to comedy. Shit, I''m willing to bet you all the change in my pockets that I could make Leroy laugh by showing him a pen and adamantly calling it a ¡°stubborn pencil¡±. I mean c''mon¡ªyou just know that he''d bust a gut. He''d laugh so hard that he''d likely faint from the lack of breathing! ¡°Genghis Boy, you''re too much! Just too much!¡± he''d probably say in-between breaths.

    After about a hundred years had passed, Leroy finally stopped laughing so that he could answer my question. ¡°Okay¡ªalright! I''m good now! I''m good!¡± He cleared his throat and shook his head. ¡°As we are traveling currently, it will take us a few hours to make it to our first checkpoint! If I had to pinpoint an exact number, I''d say anywhere between three and four! Granted, I don''t think it will be any more than three and a half considering that nobody really drives this time of year, which means that there won''t be too much traffic for us to contend with!¡±

    I nodded, a satisfied grin plastering itself onto my face. ¡°So we ain''t too terribly far from this place, then! Hallelujah! Maybe we can get all this legal shit squared away before noon!¡± Leroy grinned widely and held an index finger up. ¡°That''s where you''re wrong, my friend! The capital isn''t our first checkpoint¡ªno no! We''re making our first official stop at the Centro District border!¡± I squinted at him, cocking an eyebrow. ¡°Why is that our checkpoint?! We gotta go through border patrol or somethin''?!¡± He shook his head again, chuckling lightly. ¡°You''ll see!¡±

    You''ll see, he said again. God, I was really starting to hate that phrase. Why was it so hard for him to just be upfront about things that I was curious about? Things that I oughta be warned about ahead of time? I mean, try to imagine yourself in my shoes for just a minute. You''re in a new land where everything is way different from what you''re used to. And I mean everything is different; people, language, currency¡ªyou name it. Hell, even the animals are a tad shadier than normal; like cats. Especially cats.

    Don''t you think that you''d maybe want a little bit of a heads-up before trekking off into unknown territories?

    I certainly want one!

    Christ almighty, I''m a blind guy walking off a cliff here!

    ¡­

    But alas, I didn''t say anything to the rotten bastard. Not yet, anyway. ¡°Oh, and Genghis?!¡± I sighed, remembering my vow to punch him at the end of this gig. ¡°Yeah, Leroy?!¡± He shot me yet another shit-eating grin. ¡°It''s Breog¨¢n Capital Hall! Not ¡°the Breegan Buildin''¡±!¡±

    ...ugh.

    Stubborn.

    Pencil.

    Just saying.

    ¡­

    Step Three: A long pit-stop in Nowheresville, Centro District, C.D.D.

    ¡­

    </a>  It was around 9:10 in the morning when we arrived at the Centro District border. My initial prediction about this place was that we''d be stopped by a bunch of heavily-armed border patrol goons. After all, Centro District was one of the few places in Casa do Dia?o that seemed to have any sense of law and order. There may have not been any cops around, but the con-artists over in the capital were bound to have their own Secret Service¡ªor at least a couple of thugs supplied by their local crime syndicate. And considering that this district was all that was between us and the military''s turf, my already chronic state of paranoia only intensified once we started seeing the signs boldly stating ¡°YOU ARE NOW LEAVING OESTE DISTRICT!¡± in several different languages.

    To my surprise, there were no guards waiting for us at the entrance. What was waiting for us, however, was the Morning Star in all of his bright, incinerating glory. What was so significant about the sun, you ask? Well! I''ll certainly tell you why...but first I want to ask you ever-attentive students a couple of questions. No, there ain''t any wrong answers. Yes, all these questions are one-hundred percent rhetorical.

    Do you guys remember when I entered Norte District for the first time? How all forms of city-life suddenly vanished once I crossed the border, sending me straight into a goddamn forest? Or, going back further into time, do you remember when I searched Sur District for Leroy? How it was nothing but snowy meadows, despite being right under Oeste District?

    Well, let''s just say that Centro District had a similar scenario occur.

    ¡­

    And of course, Leroy waited until the very last second to give me some semblance of a warning.

    And holy Toledo, he couldn¡¯t of chosen a worse way to do it.

    ¡­

    So there we were, just about to reach the ¡°WELCOME TO CENTRO DISTRICT!¡± sign. Leroy had decided at some point of the drive to start asking me lots of questions about America. Who was the president? How did the justice system work? What was TV like for us? What was there to do in a country with such limiting laws? And naturally, I answered every last one of his questions as honestly as I could; it was really all I could do to keep my nerves in check. Don''t get me wrong, I was happy to see that we were making such great time. Perhaps if I was lucky, we could finish this gig within a day or two. Can you imagine that? Fuck over the military and then be home with my lady¡ªall in a span of two days? What a rush that''d be! But still, I couldn''t deny that the subconscious fear of walking into a trap kept my heart racing like I had just snorted six inches worth of Bolivian Marching Powder.

    Needless to say, Leroy''s sudden outburst didn''t help matters too much.

    ¡°Genghis, stop!¡± Before I could properly react, I was suddenly met with a giant hand emerging from the bottom of Leroy''s snow wave and stopping right into my direct path. ¡°Shit!¡± I tightened my grip around the brake lever and attempted to ground my feet onto the road. Normally, this would''ve most certainly helped me slow down¡­but apparently the remaining patch of icy road on the Oeste side of the border didn''t quite feel like letting me brake to a complete stop.

    And before you ask, no; leaping off the snowmobile wasn''t an option. Not when this thing was only two yards away from me. You see, abandoning ship really only works when you got plenty of time and distance to make the jump. And considering that there''s only three feet in a single yard, I was my own height''s measurement away from crashing into Leroy''s ice sculpture. Six feet might be tall for a person...but it ain''t nearly enough space when driving roughly around 50-55 MPH. At that speed, I would''ve needed at least three or four yards to be able to successfully jump onto the road.

    In other words, my only option was to brace myself for the collision.

    My eyes squeezed themselves shut...only for them to immediately pop open once an extremely cold sensation wrapped itself around my waist. Before I knew it, Leroy was yanking me away from the slaughter-fest that was the Pay-Per-View match-up between my snowmobile and his giant ice-hand. WHAM! BOOM! Sparks ignited at the point in which Machinery met her grisly end to the handsome stranger known as Nature. Yessir, my piece of shit ride hit the ice hard enough for the motor to short out and die, engulfing the entire vehicle in smoke. But there was a bright side; no fires broke out, which meant that our bags were very much still intact.

    Of course, this little twinkle of sunshine would''ve mattered more to me if I weren''t trapped in Leroy''s icy death grip.

    The noise I let out when he lifted me into the air was probably the closest I ever got to sounding like the vocalist in one of those girly hair-metal bands. The coldness of whatever Leroy had concocted to pull me away from the crash was unlike anything I''d ever felt before. This was the unfathomable point of cold where you''re no longer saying things like, ¡°Man, it''s so brick out here that I''m turnin'' into a snowman¡±. Oh no. Oh fuck no. This was the point where you''re now saying things along the lines of, ¡°Man, I feel like the entire middle portion of my body is being lacerated by fucking barbed wire¡±.

    ¡­

    Well, at least things were put into perspective for me...sorta?

    Maybe?

    Possib¡ªah fuck it; nothing about this shit made sense.

    With all that had transpired, I knew now what Leroy meant by us making our first pit-stop at the border. But now I had a couple more questions that needed to be addressed. Why didn''t this stupid bastard just tell me beforehand that I wasn''t gonna be able to drive my snowmobile in Centro District? Why did he feel the need to wait until the last goddamn second to bring it up¡ªin the most infuriating way possible, might I add? Did he not realize that our transition could''ve been so much smoother had he told me everything I needed to know? It would''ve been a billion times better than just letting me crash into a huge block of ice!

    And just how many degrees below zero does ice have to be to lift a two-hundred and ten pound man?

    Because I seriously, seriously doubted that it had to be so unbearably cold that he feels like his organs are being frozen solid inside his body!

    Once the damage had been done on my ride, I took a couple of quick breaths to ease my nerves¡ªwell, try to ease them, anyway. ¡°W-W-What the hell, d-dude?!¡± I looked over at Leroy and threw my hands up, trying my damnedest to downplay how uncomfortable I was. As you can imagine, this attempt was incredibly futile. ¡°W-W-Why the f-fuck''d you d-do that?!¡±

    </a>  He put a hand over his heart and took a deep breath. ¡°My apologies. I meant to warn you a mile or two ago. I guess I was enjoying our idle banter a little too much.¡± Leroy then dismissed his snow wave, which made us both descend back onto the ground. Naturally, he landed gracefully on his own two feet while I fell on my ass and rolled onto my side, arms tightly hugging my stomach as I writhed in pain. You know, I''ve had to deal with quite a bit of painful situations since I came to Casa do Dia?o. Examples include, but ain''t limited to: getting my abdomen burned by a strange light inside Heidi''s belly, getting Leroy''s thumb branded into my arm, getting my ass kicked on a number of occasions, and now getting lassoed by the Magical Ice Rope of Death.

    It all sucks, but you know what?

    The more pain you endure, the more tolerant of it you become.

    And at the rate I''m going, all of my pain receptors will probably go extinct by the time I''m twenty-five.

    ¡°Here,¡± I heard the sniveling cocksucker call out, ¡°I''ll grab our belongings. Give you a moment for your blood-flow to normalize.¡± Oh, how thoughtful of him. ¡°Once we''re finished with this operation, we''ll have ourselves plenty more options when it comes to travel¡ªall perfectly capable of driving through rough weather such as snow. So your slowmobile is right where it belongs.¡±

    Slowmobile.

    Cute.

    The pain subsided after a few minutes and I turned over to look at Leroy, who appeared to already be making his way down the road without me. ¡°Hey! Hold the fuck up!¡± I lifted myself off the ground and sprinted after the slimeball. ¡°I gotta serious bone to pick with you, you fuckin'' weasel!¡± Despite me screaming these threats at him, he didn''t turn around to acknowledge them.

    ¡°I''m tawkin'' to you, you sonuva¡ª¡±

    Before I could finish my insult, I ran over the border.

    I quickly slowed down and ultimately stopped moving, my train of thought lost to the sight before me.

    It was like something you''d see in a movie that''s set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Besides us, there didn''t appear to be a single sign of life for miles. The sun was fully aware of our presence, and boy did he make it a point to give us the rudest possible welcome imaginable. However, despite it being abundantly clear that snow and ice had no place in Centro District, the wind still felt like Jack Frost was knitting snowflake patterns into my skin. That''s right, we were thrown into an area where water had been forever ousted by fire and air''s never-ending rivalry. There was no such thing as warm nor was there such thing as cool; only hot and cold. You can be both hot and cold simultaneously, but never a mix of the two.

    Remember my spiel from earlier?

    The one regarding the sun and changing territories?

    Well, here you go.

    This is where that Q and A session was leading to.

    The motherfucking desert.

    ¡°...bitch?¡± I turned in a complete circle, eyes darting all over the damn place. Everywhere I looked, all I could see was either sand or cacti. No people. No buildings. Not even trees or traffic lights. Just complete, utter desolation. And when I turned behind me to eyeball the Oeste side again, the snow was still falling.

    I could see the snow.

    I could see the cold.

    I could even see my wrecked snowmobile.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    But I couldn''t feel any of that cold, nor could I smell the engine exhaust coming from my totaled ride.

    All I could feel was the battle between hot and cold.

    All I could smell was the dusty scent of sand.

    It was like there was some kind of weird barrier separating the two districts.

    ¡°They have any deserts in the United States, Genghis?¡± I nodded slowly, mouth still hanging open a little. ¡°Yeah...but not where I''m from.¡± It was true; before that day, I''d never stepped foot in a desert. In the United States of America, the only desert that I knew of was all the way over near the West Coast; within states such as California, Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, and Texas. And while my folks liked to travel once in a blue moon, they were never ambitious enough to drive all the way to the opposite side of the country. Basic knowledge aside, the closest my Yankee ass ever got to visiting the desert was watching movies or reading books that took place there. So you can make the safe assumption that I felt very much outta my element. To say that I felt like a fish outta water would be simplifying things a little too much. No sir, I felt more like a fish that had been picked from his bowl and chucked into a fucking microwave.

    ¡°As you can see, the road here is rather dry.¡± I forced myself out of my daze and turned back around, being met with Leroy''s uneasy grin. ¡°If I were to let you continue driving that worthless contraption of yours, the immediate change between ice and dry land would''ve made you lose control. I know my means of rescuing you weren''t exactly the most pleasant...but I think I''d rather you be uncomfortable than be injured or worse. Forgive me.¡± I nodded slowly. In all honesty, his explanation made sense. And I could see that he meant well.

    However¡­

    ¡°I see.¡± I removed my aviators and clipped them onto the collar of my wife-beater. I know, I know¡ªit''s a stupid move taking my shades off when we''re in the middle of a bright, sunny desert. Don''t you worry about me, kiddos. I just wanted to remove them long enough to get a clear look at the hell I was about to raise.

    ¡°But you see, Leroy, there''s somethin'' that I just...don''t get.¡± I stormed up to him, my knuckles popping at my sides. All the wonder that been in my system just seconds ago was now gone¡ªallowing my anger to resurface. The look in Leroy''s face changed drastically once he realized what was about to happen and he began backing up. ¡°Woah! Hey now! Wait a¡ª¡± Before he could even get the words outta his mouth, I socked him hard in the jaw¡ªbreaking my vow to wait until the end of ¡°Operation Armored Raccoons¡± to punch him.

    He fell to the ground instantly.

    And with no water around to save his ass, I climbed on top of him and unloaded on his chiseled face.

    ¡°You sonuvabitch! Why couldn''ta you fuckin'' said somethin'' ''bout this before we left the hotel?! Huh?! You too good to give necessary details, Mister I-Can-Surf-On-Motherfuckin''-Snow?! Still think it''s cute to say ¡°You''ll see!¡± when I ask a question?! You still think that''s funny, you stupid, cock-sucking bastard?! Well fuck you, you fuckin'' fuck! We''re in the desert! You hear me?! We''re in the motherfuckin'' desert! And tawkin'' ''bout injuries, you nearly injured me with that little stunt you pulled with...¡±

    ¡­

    Once me and Leroy''s little ¡°talk¡± was over, we spent the next couple of minutes in silence as we prepared ourselves for the next portion of our journey. I re-equipped my aviators as well as my gangster fedora. Despite the wind being fairly cold, I knew that I''d hate myself if I insisted on wearing my jacket while walking through the desert. So I removed it and tied it around my waist, stuffing all the contents into my jean pockets.

    Once I was all set, I lit up a cigarette and motioned for Leroy to get a move on down the road. And this was how we spent the rest of the day; just the two of us wandering the lone, open highway of Centro District. He was at my left, keeping up the pace. And like I had done, Leroy had also removed his jacket and wrapped it around his waist, which allowed the oozing blood from his busted bottom lip easier access to his gray t-shirt.

    Unlike our drive to the border, our conversations were nonexistent. Every now and then, I''d look over at him to see if he was contemplating apologizing to me for the bullshit he''d caused. While I managed to catch a few covert glances, he primarily kept his eyes on his feet like he''d just been scolded by his mother for accidentally dropping one of the plates from her fine china set. But despite him trying his best to hide his face, the sun still illuminated his swollen eyes, bruised cheeks, and the lovely red essence that enhanced the shame written in his expression.

    I smirked at the sight of my handiwork.

    I''d like to see him brag about his stupid powers now.

    I know what you guys are thinking. You''re thinking I''m being childish about this whole thing. ¡°Oh c''mon, Genghis! He said he was sorry already! Just let it go, man!¡± Correction; he said he was sorry about waiting until the last second to warn me about the change in weather. He did not say he was sorry about blatantly refusing to tell me about the change in weather at a reasonable time in which I could''ve prepared myself. I meant to warn you a mile or two ago, he said. Well fuck me, Leroy¡ªthat ain''t good enough! You should''ve told me sooner than that! Like when we were in the fucking hotel, drinking coffee and making plans!

    I mean sure, he dropped hints. I now understood why he assigned me to be the designated carjacker. But here''s the thing, how can I jack a car when there''s no cars to jack? I considered that maybe he had something planned. Perhaps he knew a place we could go to find a set of wheels. Though I had to wonder if there were even any gas stations in the desert to begin with. I already had a hard time believing that Breog¨¢n Capital Hall¡ªthe Washington D.C. of Casa do Dia?o¡ªwas located here of all places. Was there a city further into Centro District? A place sorta like Las Vegas in the sense that it''s heavily populated and tourist laden despite being smack dab in the middle of nowhere? Or was it basically a district of its own¡ªwith its own magical barrier protecting it from the hot desert sun?

    Once again, I didn''t know. I didn''t know any of this shit. Leroy knew more than I did, and yet he got a kick outta skirting around my questions. Here was hoping that he finally learned his lesson and knew well to keep me perfectly informed on every little detail, building, climate transition¡ªfucking any and every goddamn thing that I needed to know. I mean c''mon, he''d have to be pretty dense to forget the lesson I just taught him!

    ¡­

    But shit, what if he didn''t learn a damn thing?

    What if he decided to be petty and fuck with me even more?

    ¡­

    But¡­why the hell would he, though?

    He was just as stuck in the desert as I was!

    He''d be an idiot to do such a thing just to get back at me!

    ¡­

    But Christ did his face look like shit.

    I really did a number on him.

    I had to wonder what was going through his head.

    If I had powerful water manipulation skills and still somehow got my ass kicked by a man with no powers, I''d be absolutely mortified.

    And, as experience has taught me, extreme humiliation often leads people to do some really stupid things in the attempt to redeem themselves.

    ¡­

    I know what you''re thinking I should do.

    You''re wanting me to tell this schmuck that I''m sorry.

    Sorry that I pounded his face like a slab of meat.

    But see, that just ain''t gonna happen¡ªnot when this prick had it coming.

    Apologizing would completely ruin the lesson I had to teach him.

    It would only reinforce him to continue beating around the bush on questions I needed answers for.

    So if you''re thinking I''m gonna tell him I''m sorry, you can think again.

    ¡­

    No sir, I ain''t uttering those words to him.

    Not today, not anyday.

    Let the fucker ruminate on his ass-kicking for as long as he needs to!

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡­ugh.

    Goddammit.

    Fuck my intense paranoia.

    Fuck it right in the ass.

    So, yeah¡­we were nearing the two hour mark of our walk when I finally cracked and spoke to the poor bastard. ¡°Leroy.¡± He quickly looked over at me, eyes widening as much as they could through all the swelling. I looked at him for a moment, trying to think of how I should express myself. ¡°How''s¡ªuh...how''s the face doin''?¡± He shrugged. ¡°It hurts. But it could certainly be worse.¡± Leroy then nodded over towards Myra, who was holstered in my jeans. ¡°You could''ve shot me...then left me to die in the middle of the desert.¡±

    I chuckled lightly. ¡°C''mon dude, I wouldn''t do you that way.¡± I quickly lifted my backpack and flung it onto my right shoulder, giving my left a break. ¡°Sure, you''re a stupid bastard...but I ain''t gonna kill you over it. Alright?¡±

    Oddly enough, this insult put a smile on Leroy''s face¡ªa genuine one with teeth; not one of those fake, closed mouth smiles. So far so good, Genghis. Butter up this walking piece of toast as much as you possibly can. ¡°Though, I guess maybe I could''ve stuck to just one swing instead of several. I¡ªuh¡ªguess I got a little carried away back there.¡± Leroy laughed loudly, shaking his head. ¡°Genghis, my friend! If you''re about to say that I think you''re about to say, then you needn''t bother!¡±

    Oh, he ain''t accepting apologies today.

    I guess I was right in saying that a firm hand was all it was gonna take to make him learn.

    ¡­

    Wait, why am I guessing?

    Of course I''m right!

    I''m always right!

    And lemme tell yah, I never doubted myself for a second.

    No sir, not me.

    Not Genghis Dillinger Boy!

    He then playfully punched my shoulder. ¡°I''m hurt, but not hurt. I''ve given you the piss all marning about your snowmobile. And I suppose I was being a little too careless with some of the details regarding this operation. I know you''re under a lot of pressure¡­and I guess I wasn''t helping matters by keeping need-to-know information to m''self. If we''re going to be working together, then we can''t keep any secrets from one another. I told you this once upon a time...and in the end, I honestly needed to follow my own advice. So really, I more than deserved to be clobbered in the head.¡±

    A smug grin spread across my face, but my voice remained casual. ¡°So you''re finally ready to apologize?¡± That''s right, bitch. I''m making you apologize for this fuck-up¡ªyour fuck-up. ¡°I was ready to apologize the moment you threw that first punch.¡± Suddenly, Leroy acquired a shit-eating grin of his own. ¡°But you were so busy screaming at me like an angry housewife that I figured it would be best to wait until your temper simmered down a bit.¡±

    There we go.

    I knew he wouldn''t be able to say he''s sorry with giving me shit at least one more time beforehand.

    ¡°So, now that you aren''t red in the face, I am sincerely sorry for doing you wrong. And let me also go on the record and say that you hit like a fucking truck!¡± Ah, the weasel wants to flatter me, does he? Sweet-talk me into forgiving him? Well, that plan certainly worked on me.

    I brought both of my fists to my face and planted a loud kiss on both of them. ¡°You can brag about your powers, Leroy. Shit, you can even brag about how you didn''t grow up in a big city. But just know that at the end of the day...¡± I looked over at him again and gave him an exaggerated wink behind my aviators. ¡°¡­those of us that did grow up in a big city hit much harder than you cousin-fuckin'' rednecks do.¡±

    That got a whooping laugh outta him. ¡°Keep telling yourself that! You just caught me at a bad time was all! Next time I''ll be ready, and I''ll make you hurt worse than Heidi when she squeezes those two babies out of her body!¡± Now it was my turn to laugh obnoxiously. ¡°Oh-ho ho! Listen to this pussy right here! Well guess what¡ªyou''re on. You name the time and place and I''ll prove to you again who''s in charge around here!¡± At that point, we both looked each other in the eye and bumped our fists together. ¡°Challenge accepted, friend! Granted, it should wait until after ¡°Operation Armored Raccoons¡± is completed.¡±

    Speaking of ¡°Operation Armored Raccoons¡±¡­

    ¡°That reminds me...you know where the hell we''re goin''? How far will it be until we start seein'' signs of life around here?¡± Leroy looked up for a moment, eyes focusing on the sky. ¡°Let''s see, it''s about noon now. We''ve walked about five miles thus far. Our first gas station is around ten to fifteen miles from the border. So, if I had to guess, I''d say we''ll reach that point anywhere between two and four hours from now.¡± He looked back over at me and flashed me another grin. ¡°So it''ll unfortunately be a while before you can sit down and enjoy a nice meal.¡±

    I scowled at him.

    Either the bastard read my mind, or my rumbling stomach was loud enough for him to hear it.

    ¡­

    </a>  And so we were back to where we were before. Just the two of us traveling on down the lone road with Leroy asking me a gazillion more questions about my home country. What religion is predominantly practiced? What''s our take on gay marriage? Do we have celestial entities guide our every decision like in Casa do Dia?o? That last one I couldn''t give him a straight answer on, considering how I got to this cesspool in the first place.

    Of course, this portion of our journey did have its differences that set the experience apart from the first portion. We left Winter Wendy to go spend time with her bipolar sister, Summer Sandy. And instead of freezing our asses off at a constant rate, we were now alternating between two extremes. For the first half hour of every hour, we would be hugging ourselves for warmth. Well¡­Leroy was, anyway. Guess he couldn''t take the cold when there wasn''t any ice or snow for him to control.

    As for me, I was a trooper. After having my innards nearly frozen solid, my eyes were opened wide to what cold really was. Was the strong breeze still unpleasant? Sure. However, having your best friend almost freeze you to death is even worse. Besides, I''m a New Yorker. We''re sorta bred to bare with the agonizingly cold northern winters. Yeah, we''ll bitch about the weather...but we kinda bitch about everything, regardless. It don''t change the fact that we''re goddamn Winter soldiers.

    </a>  You say there''s ice all over the roads? Ha! We laugh at such trivialities! You say the kids oughta stay home from school on snowy days? Shit¡ªget on our level, you bunch of pansies! We were not only forced to attend school on snowy days, but we had a mandatory recess period during that time as well. Did we cry about it? Hell no! We built our little snowmen and then signed our initials at the bottom with our piss. We owned that shit, for we were the undisputed champions of cold weather.

    So needless to say, I was a-okay for the first half of each hour.

    The second half, though?

    The part where Hot took over Cold''s shift?

    ¡­

    Well.

    You see.

    What would happen was¡­

    Well¡­

    ¡­

    Man, shut the fuck up.

    We were three minutes shy of 4:00, so I was presently seeing little flashes of color dance to the ambient noises of the desert. I was soaked from head to toe in sweat, and you can bet your ass that I made it a very strong point to ignore Leroy''s little jabs about how weak my heat tolerance was. ¡°Remember when you took a shower this marning? How nice and clean you were when you walked out? How good your body-wash made you smell? Those were certainly better times, weren''t they?¡±

    Joke''s on him.

    The moment I noticed the gas station off in the distance, I sprinted off and left his ass behind.

    ¡°Hey, wait a minute! Genghis!¡± Alas, my friend''s words fell on very deaf ears. See, I knew that I oughta stop running and wait for Leroy to catch up with me, but my brain was on autopilot at the time. I was hot. I was hungry. I was delirious. Friendship is great, but it ain''t shit when your body''s constantly screaming at you¡ªtelling you, ¡°Make me feel better, you lousy sonuvabitch!¡±.

    With that being said, my leg muscles were working at one hundred and ten percent. It wasn''t long until the air current began working with the sweat pouring down my face, cooling me down a little and thus making my lap that much easier to finish. The last time I ran this fast, I was running from the cops. In my humble opinion, resisting arrest and ending your own starvation are both excellent incentives to ignore any and all other limitations your body might have¡ªsuch as your lungs being weakened by your excessive smoking. However, as I''ve said in the past, my collection of fucks to give on that subject would make quite the excellent dust collector for your home.

    And thanks to my superior resolve, I managed to make it to the gas station long before Leroy did. Upon my arrival, I couldn''t help but admire the gracious award before me. Rustic. Old wooden structure. Rotting. Lights mostly burned out, including the neon signs advertising cheap liquor. As awful as this place looked, I wouldn''t of been shocked if there was a meth-lab in the men''s restroom. However, to somebody who was in desperate need for a pit-stop, it was quite possibly one of the most beautiful things you''d see all day; I was no different.

    Unfortunately, I was only able to bask in the glow of salvation for a grand total of one minute and thirty seconds.

    As soon as Leroy caught up with me, the adrenaline that had sustained me for my run began to fade away.

    Cool skin, gone.

    Strong lungs, gone.

    Powerful leg muscles, gone.

    All that remained was an overheated man who had spaghetti legs and exploding lungs.

    ¡°Well! Looks like we made it, Genghis!¡±

    I would''ve loved to respond to him.

    Really, I would''ve.

    But at the time, my eyes were too busy rolling to the back of my head.

    ¡­

    I don''t know how long I was out. Shit, I don''t even know if I had officially woken up or not. What did I know, though, was that I found myself inside an air-conditioned place, seated at a table. And right across from me was Leroy, appearing to have fallen under the same spell I had. ¡°Leroy? You awake?¡± When he didn''t respond, I grabbed his arm and shook him a little. ¡°Hey. Leroy? Hello?¡± He let out a quick snore and I let go of him, accepting that he was out of it.

    After spending a minute or two trying to differentiate between reality and dreamland, I began to examine my surroundings. To my left was my hat and aviators, the latter resting on top of the former. To my right was my green bomber jacket, neatly folded and resting against the wall.Huh. I guess Leroy took them off for me so I could sleep comfortably. But as much as I wanted to believe that it was a genuinely kind gesture, I was more inclined to believe that he was still partially in damage control mode after what had happened earlier in the day.

    Once I was able to look beyond the table, I saw four other tables¡ªall empty. The white-tiled floors looked damp, like they had been mopped within the last thirty minutes. In the forefront of the dining area was an unattended counter, decorated in yellow posters showing off these big tasty cheeseburgers. We appeared to be the only people in this place¡ªso much so that the workers had even forgotten to turn off the lights before driving home in the desert.

    This place reminded me much of the family road trips I used to be a part of as a kid. Dad, being the lazy drunk he''s always been, refused to ever take me or my grandparents anywhere whenever he utilized his vacation time; said that it was more work driving cars than it was fixing them. When Roy and Heidi came into the picture, however, he had no choice but to get off his fat ass and at least pretend that he enjoyed traveling. You see, Roy was a huge country boy at heart, despite being born and raised in Queens. When there was even the smallest chance to escape the city, he took it and ran.

    And so he''d take us anywhere that he felt was as ¡°one with nature¡± as possible. Such places included upstate New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and even Maine one summer. Regardless of destination, each trip all had one thing in common; the inevitable disappearance of any and all big name companies and restaurants. What we''d get instead were these weird, family-owned gas station/diner two-in-ones. You know, the ones that are always grungy, but nevertheless end up being extremely practical?

    I mean, think of all the uses these places have.

    Outta gas?

    Fill up for eighty cents a gallon.

    Hungry?

    Go grab yourself a barbeque sandwich for one dollar.

    Need a little pick-me-up?

    Coffee is free of charge.

    Need the can real quick?

    Then go¡ªit ain''t exclusive to paying customers!

    This place, too, had rather grungy innards. But, in all honesty, it was still more pleasing to the eye than what the exterior had to offer. You know something? I was beginning to notice a trend with a lot of the businesses on this island. You know that old saying, ¡°Don''t judge a book by its cover¡±? Well, it was becoming pretty obvious that Casa do Dia?o followed this philosophy religiously. Seriously, were there no skilled architects on this island? Was everyone too good to take into consideration the condition of the buildings their precious ambitions relied on? Christ, the only building I''ve seen so far that looked like any effort was made into building it was the Diamond Hotel...and even then it looked fucking terrible! Granted, it wasn''t terrible in the half-assed way like ninety-nine percent of the buildings on this goddamn island were, but more so in the ¡°we''re rich and you can bet your pauper ass that we''re gonna piss away all of that cheddar on stupid shit¡± kinda way.

    But I digress.

    There was something more important for me to worry about at the time, anyway.

    And that thing came in the form of a voice familiar enough for me to recognize, but too different for me to trust.

    ¡­

    ¡°Nice change of pace, isn''t it?¡±

    ¡­

    Catching me off guard, I turned to look in front of me. Leroy had woken up...and possessed a rather eerie gleam in his eyes. ¡°After a long, hARd day in the desert, I think WE deSERve a liTTLe brEAk, DON''T YOU?¡± I cocked an eyebrow. The man in front of me looked like Leroy...but he sure as shit didn''t sound like Leroy. After all, the Leroy I knew never spoke like two people were talking within the same breath¡ªone person being him and the other being...somebody else. Something else.

    ¡°Leroy? What''s wrong with your voice?¡± He flashed me a big smile, but it wasn''t one of Leroy''s trademark shit-eating smiles. Oh no. This was no smile I knew. What makes me say that, you ask? Oh, I could probably list off a couple of reasons. However, I suspect that razor sharp fangs is a good enough reason by itself. It was certainly a good enough reason for me to jump outta my seat and whip out my revolver.

    ¡°ALL IS WELL, my PRecIOUs aLLy.¡±

    He stood from his seat and stepped toward me.

    ¡°YOU HAVE NO REASON TO FRET.¡±

    I pulled the hammer back and readied my finger on the trigger.

    His smile only widened in response.

    ¡°I''m just enjoying a nice, relaxing nap with my best friend.¡±

 Chapter Twenty: Operation Armored Raccoons; Part 3/5

    ¡­

    Step Four: An unexpected turn of events

    ¡­

    My hand trembled something fierce, as if it were enveloped with an ice cold glove. ¡°Who are you? What are you?¡± The demonic imposter laughed loudly, letting his now elongated tongue hang out of his mouth. ¡°Don''t you RECOGNIZE me, Genghis?! It''s ME! LERoy BarRIS!¡± I held my breath, refusing to let my fear get the best of me. ¡°What did you do to him, you sick sonuvabitch?!¡± Both his eyes and smile widened as slivers of drool began leaking from his mouth. ¡°HEY, ComE ON! Don''t you bE jUDGING a man for HOW he WaKES UP IN THE MORNING!¡±

    I swallowed hard.

    This was really happening.

    This thing was really here.

    Myra was locked and loaded.

    My finger was itching to make the big squeeze.

    But¡­

    ¡°Cut the bullshit, you freak of nature! Gimme Leroy back or I''m gonna seriously hurt you!¡± The grotesque bastard''s upper lip rolled up, exposing his gums as well as the entirety of his gnarly fangs. ¡°What? Are you going to shoot me? Are you going to shoot me, Genghis?!¡± I didn''t like this. I didn''t like this at all. He sounded less and less like Leroy with every word that left his mouth. He looked less and less like Leroy with every word that left my mouth. And to think that just minutes ago, this dude was out like a light in front of me. Though¡­I had to wonder if he was really sleeping. What if this thing already¡­no. He couldn''t have! Leroy''s stronger than that!

    I relaxed my lungs long enough for a quick breath to escape through my nostrils. ¡°Look, Leroy...I need you to wake up.¡± Terror laced my vocal chords as my trigger finger quivered, torn between both sides in the fiery debate between Fight-or-Flight and Necessary Compassion. ¡°I doan know what this...thing has done to you, but I ain''t an idiot. I know this ain''t you!¡± While bold, my proclamation got me nothing but another horrifying laugh. ¡°Don''t be silly, friend! Use your eyes and you''ll see that it''s been me all along!¡± With a wicked shriek, the monster lunged at me like a ravenous cheetah.

    ¡­

    Okay, Genghis¡ªnow''s the time you make a choice.

    Do you continue trying to talk some sense into your partner in crime?

    Or do you shoot him dead?

    Because shooting him is certainly the best option right about now.

    Whatever this thing is ain''t Leroy¡ªhell, it may even be a mirage brought on from the hot desert air!

    ¡­

    But you can''t ever tell for sure.

    You seriously can''t.

    ¡­

    And so, thanks to my hesitation, Not Leroy was easily able to make me drop my revolver by sinking his spiky whites into my forearm. He yanked me around like a ragdoll as I bit down on my bottom lip, refusing to give this sicko the satisfaction of hearing me scream. Remember when I predicted that I''d lose all my pain receptors by the time I was twenty-five? Well, guess what; I''m changing that sonuvabitch to twenty-three. And despite how hard I tried, I still ended up making a noise that kinda sounded like what you''d hear if you mixed a menacing growl of unbridled fury with a pathetic whimper of excruciating agony.

    Needless to say, this wasn¡¯t a mirage after all.

    ¡°Argh¡ªmother...f-ucker!¡± Eager to make this pain go away as quickly as possibly, I frantically kicked the imposter any place my foot could reach. His gut, his kneecaps, his balls¡ªfucking anywhere that might get him to let go of me! And go figure, my blows barely made him flinch while his bite was crunching my bones like a tasty meal¡ªalong with its own special drink tactfully named ¡°The Bleeding Khan¡±. And lemme just say now, I must be a pretty delicious bastard if he was trying this hard to tear my arm off my body.

    ¡°Stop¡ªfuck¡ªstop!¡± Moving on to Plan B, I slammed him onto his back. Now that I had some level of control in this fight, I started bashing his head repeatedly against the hard tiled floor. ¡°Getoffgetoffgetoffgetoffgetoff...¡± My actions sped up with each ¡°getoff¡± that came out of my mouth. I was soon hitting him so quickly that the blood that was pouring from my arm was now splattering all over the place, coating both my and his faces. And wouldn''t you know it, despite his skull popping the floor hard enough, the sonuvabitch still clung onto my arm like his life depended on it.

    ¡°Getoff!¡± With one final bash, he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. Now, I know that this usually means that somebody is either unconscious, asleep, or dead. But not this guy. Oh no¡ªnot this asshole. This guy decided to one-up himself on the Creep-Scale and started dragging his moist tongue all around the area of my flesh that was caught between his teeth, drinking up as much of my life essence as he could. When I say he dragged his tongue on my arm, what I really mean is that he slobbered all over it like a fucking dog watching his owner eat a medium-rare steak. In fact, he slobbered so much that a large portion of his drool leaked onto his neck and ran down his collarbone.

    Now, you know me; I''m something of a freak when it comes to blood.

    I admit that.

    And hell, this situation might''ve even been unbelievably erotic if it were a beautiful woman bearing down on me like this.

    ¡­

    But it wasn''t¡ªit was Leroy motherfucking Barris.

    ¡­

    And yet he insisted on making things worse by emitting a startlingly feminine sounding giggle while he savored my taste.

    ¡°Shut up! Shut up!¡± Quickly running out of options as well as feeling in my forearm, I pushed my free hand down onto his forehead. ¡°Pry those fuckin'' molars right outta your kisser!¡± It was with these words that I attempted to force my arm out of his mouth. As I yanked back, his giggles started sounding less like a seductive temptress and more like a city park creeper rubbing his nipples while watching kids play on the swings.

    It didn''t take long for me to come to terms that pulling away from him was an incredibly stupid idea. How was it stupid, you ask? Let me put it this way; this motherfucker was persistent. The harder I pulled, the tighter his bite became. And as the seconds and milliseconds ticked by, I became increasingly more aware of the feeling of my bones and skin tissue being gradually ripped from my body.

    That, ladies and gentlemen, was the point where my efforts to quell the urge to scream proved to be entirely in vain.

    ¡°Yahhh¡ªarggghh!¡± The volume of his giggles heightened greatly, as he was no doubt pleased with the reaction he got out of me. So much so, in fact, that he finally let go of me so that he could bust his gut laughing at my pain. I instantly grabbed the gaping bite mark he left behind, applying pressure to both ends in the attempt to stop the bleeding.

    Once the humor had died, the foul beast looked back up at me and licked the blood off his fangs. ¡°IRONIC, isn''t it?¡± He then placed his hands down onto the floor and raised his legs up, lifting his upper body with them. ¡°FoR a man thAT LOVES BlooDSHed, you DON''T APPEAR to enjoy having YOURS shed!¡± Once he was completely upside down, he bent his knees so that the bottoms of his boots where now facing my direction. Meanwhile, as he performed this little trapeze act for me, I took the opportunity to look behind me and see where Myra had fallen. Thankfully, she didn''t slide too far away from us. And she was still cocked, meaning she didn''t misfire when I dropped her.

    Hallelujah.

    At least I still had that option...if left with no other alternatives, of course.

    ¡­

    But shit, it''s getting harder and harder to keep going easy on this guy.

    I almost lost my arm, for crying out loud!

    ¡­

    Then again, grabbing Myra with my good hand is a gigantic risk considering the blood flowing from my wound like an easy waterfall.

    ¡­

    So really, what the fuck am I supposed to do here?!

    Leroy¡ªfor fuck''s sake, wake up!

    Whether it was the hair-raising laughter that got my attention or the loud popping noise that came from him extending his neck far enough to face me from behind, I''m not sure. But regardless, I was met with the horrible sight of a badly twisted body staring at me while his feet hovered above his head and his hands held him in place on the white-tiled floor. ¡°I guess that shoe doesn¡¯t fit too well, does it?!¡± I gritted my teeth at the scary bastard, tightening my grip on my wound. ¡°At least I can wear my own. I doan have to steal another man''s pair!¡± He exposed his gums again, smiling a little too widely for my liking. ¡°Such CUTTING words! You''re obviously tired, FRIEND! Let''s go back to SLEEP for a little while longer!¡±

    </a>  I growled impatiently. This conversation wasn¡¯t going anywhere. Shit, this conversation hadn¡¯t gone anywhere since it began! ¡°Goddammit Leroy¡ªsnap out of it! We got a mission, remember?! Complete domination of Casa do Dia?o! You and me on the top of the entire island! ¡°Operation Armored Raccoons¡±, man! Any of that ring a bell?!¡± He emitted yet another grueling laugh, which served as the final straw to my dilemma.

    Words clearly weren¡¯t going to reach Leroy right now.

    This thing has completely enslaved him.

    So, as much as I didn''t want to, I was gonna have to shoot him.

    Whether it takes one or two shots to get the point across, that was up to him.

    For Leroy''s sake, I hoped that one was going to be enough.

    Because anymore than that was gonna result in a phone call to both of his mothers.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I murmured softly, ¡°you asked for it, you fuckin'' asshole.¡± I dropped to my knees and hunched over as if I were seconds away from bleeding to death. Relax, I wasn''t in that bad of shape already; it was just an act. However, I admittedly felt a whole lot weaker than I did before. My head was light and spinning, my arm was full of holes and, judging by how much blood was dripping through my hand, I made the educated guess that the evil bastard nicked an artery while I was pulling away from him. But you see, friends, Genghis Boy is a very hard guy to kill. Maybe not impossible, but highly improbable. He can take any and all obstacles life throws at him!

    ¡­

    But for now, he admits to having seen better days.

    Much better days.

    Nevertheless, the stupid bastard fell for my bait and approached me, using his hands as his feet. ¡°ThERe WE GO! Isn''t it tHAt SO MUCH bETTer?! JuST dropping your wORRies like THEY NEVER EXISTED?! Just lETting your WEAK HEART rest?!¡± He pushed me over so that I was lying on my back. I looked up at him with half shut eyes, mouth hanging open slightly. Evil Incarnate smiled at my vulnerable state.

    ¡°Life is FAR TOO SHORT to always be running amuck. It makes the world too noisy. TOO LOUD! When the time is right, we just have to STOP LIVING and let the world move forward¡ªmuch QUIETER than it was before.¡± The imposter took a few more steps, his hands stopping at my sides as he hovered over me like an acrobatic ghost. His face got close to mine, the smell of my blood still fresh on his breath. ¡°And if you couldn''t even save your own arm, I have little reason to believe you could save your own life¡ªlet alone your precious ally''s.¡±

    That''s what you think, you fucking animal.

    Time to cut the facade and open my eyes.

    ¡°That''s an interestin'' perspective, pal. But there''s one major flaw with it.¡± I quickly grabbed his forehead with the hand belonging to my injured arm and shoved him onto the floor. As he rolled over to the right, I quickly grabbed Myra with the same hand and slid toward the left, still using my other hand to apply pressure to my wound. The monster got on his hands and knees just before returning to his previous stance¡ªsickening contortions and all. Christ, what a horrifying creature this guy was. He reminded me of a spider¡ªa giant, deformed, man-eating spider. No matter; I was already up on one knee, waiting to squash this freak. And when he faced me, he faced both me and my lovely Cattleman.

    ¡°My arm is still perfectly attached to my body.¡±

    I squeezed the trigger.

    With a loud ¡°Blam!¡±, a .45 Colt hollow-point pierced through his left calf muscle.

    The imposter wailed loudly as he once again fell to the floor. This time, however, he didn''t immediately get back up. Actually, he didn''t get up at all; he just started convulsing on the floor like an epileptic. I lowered my weapon and watched his body, waiting to see what this freak''s next move was gonna be. As he jerked around on the floor, he began making noises that made this task much more nerve-wracking than it already was. It sounded like he was screaming, but every so often that scream would transition into yet another one of his awful laughs.

    My heartbeat felt like a bass drum being ferociously kicked by a coked out musician. Was he gonna attack me again? Or was one bullet enough for him to get the picture? Was he actually hurt? Or was he just fucking with me? Surely he ain''t done for already. One bullet to the leg? Really? Something ain''t right here.

    Ten seconds passed.

    He was still jerking around on the floor.

    Fifteen seconds passed.

    He was gasping for air, eyes switching from facing the ceiling to facing the back of his eye sockets.

    Twenty seconds passed.

    ¡°All HUManITY ENDS, GengHIS BOY! IT WILL BE OUR HANDS THAT MAKE YOU FALL!¡±

    Twenty-five seconds passed.

    Leroy''s hands were slapping the floor hard enough for it to echo in the empty gas station.

    Once thirty seconds passed, he rolled onto his stomach and stopped moving. Myra stayed firmly grasped in my hand, ready to come back up if necessary. Regardless of who I was looking at now¡ªif Leroy was back in control or not¡ª I knew the shot from my revolver wasn''t going to be his undoing. Would it potentially cripple him, rendering his left leg completely useless from here on out? Possibly, yeah. But it certainly ain''t gonna kill him; not unless he somehow bleeds out...despite being shot in his goddamn calf muscle and not, say, his femoral artery up in his thigh. I mean shit, I''m the one more likely to bleed out here!

    After one of the slowest minutes I''ve ever experienced in my entire life, Leroy finally popped his head up with a loud gasp. I quickly got back to my feet and aimed the revolver at his face. He didn''t notice me at first, instead frantically looking all around the room. Left, right, up, down, zig-zag left¡ªbasically every possible direction that wasn''t directly in front of him all while breathing like he''d just dived fifty feet into the ocean and come back up for air. ¡°Huh¡ªwha...¡± He quickly wiped his knuckle against his lips...and then looked down to examine said hand once he realized that there was something red and wet there. ¡°What¡ªwhat''s...¡± It wasn''t until he looked directly behind him that the sharp pain in his leg finally registered with him.

    ¡°What''s¡ªoh god!¡± He tilted his head down a bit, letting out another loud gasp once he noticed the gaping hole in his leg. ¡°My...god! What in Danu''s name...¡± The panic in his voice was clear as his shaky hand reached down to touch his wound. ¡°Wh-What in Danu''s name happened?!¡± The psuedo-Irishman eventually turned to look at me as I continued to point my gun at him.

    I stared at him intensely, pulling the hammer down with my thumb and resting my index finger on the trigger. Judging by both his voice and his reaction to his gunshot wound, I knew that I had defeated the monster that held Leroy captive. But for how long? And was the beast really gone? Because I don''t know about you, but I find it very hard to believe that one shot from a .45 Colt was enough to kill a demon.

    After being met with Myra''s barrel, his gaze shortly returned to his leg wound.

    Then he looked at me again.

    Then back at his leg.

    Once Leroy looked at me the third time, he yelped loudly¡ªthe realization finally dawning on him.

    ¡°Wha-What did you do, Genghis? What the fuck did you do?!¡± I continued to stare at him as my fingers pressed themselves harder into my forearm. ¡°Are you here with me, Leroy?¡± He squinted at me, horror etched onto his face. ¡°Wh¡ªwhat?¡± I tightened my grip on Myra, clenching my teeth as a response to both the pain I was feeling and the overall frustration from this entire situation.

    And unfortunately for me, my tone of voice meshed with my fear and anger all too well.

    ¡°I said are you fuckin'' here, you stupid sonuvabitch! Are you here with me now, o-or do I gotta pop a bullet in that thick motherfuckin'' skull of yours this time?!¡± Leroy''s eyes shut tightly as a short wail of pain escaped from his mouth. ¡°I-I don''t e-even know what you''re talking about! Just¡ªsweet Danu almighty¡ªwhy did you fucking shoot me?!¡± I took two quick steps closer to him. ¡°Until you prove to me that you''re the real Leroy Barris, I''m the only motherfucker that''s allowed to ask any questions around here!¡±

    His eyes opened again, his panting now slowing down.

    ¡°The¡­¡°real¡± Leroy Barris?¡±

    Taking a chance, I let go of my wound long enough to show him the damage he caused.

    ¡°How do you think that blood got on your mouth, huh? Whose blood do you think it is?¡±

    After witnessing my blood spurt onto the floor, Leroy began to furiously scrub his mouth with the palm of his hand, rubbing his fingertips against his tongue as well as his now normal-looking teeth. As soon as he pulled his hand away to examine the damage, his jaw dropped. ¡°Ooo-oh my f-fucking...¡± A strong gag interrupted his moment of clarity and he quickly turned his head to the right so he could vomit all over the floor. As he did this, I quickly grabbed the wound again in the attempt to stall the bleeding. He spent a good minute or more purging my blood from his system, eventually stopping once the retching no longer made him feel better.

    ¡°So allow me to ask you just one more fuckin'' time. Are. You. Here. With me?¡± Leroy stared at his puddle of puke, completely speechless. ¡°Leroy.¡± No response. ¡°Leroy.¡± I got back down onto my knee, but continued to hold my injured friend at gunpoint. ¡°Tawlk to me.¡± My words came out a bit softer than they had been, though there was still a degree of sternness to my tone. Nevertheless, Leroy still didn''t respond to me. His eyes just remained on the sick that escaped outta his body, his mouth apparently wiring itself shut to prevent anymore from forcing itself out. The look on his face was one that I could only describe as belonging to a man who has just realized that this has been the grand-daddy of bad days. I could only imagine the massive influx of thoughts swarming his head like a bee hive.

    He lost control.

    A foreign power stole his body¡ªheld his mind hostage.

    It damn near cost me an arm.

    It damn near cost him a leg.

    And, had the demon decided to test the waters even further, it would''ve cost him his life.

    ¡­

    But even with all of this in mind, I couldn''t really tell where exactly his head lied.

    Was Myra''s kiss truly the deciding factor in whether or not he woke up?

    Or was Leroy simultaneously fighting the beast deep inside his subconscious?

    He didn''t seem to know what I was talking about when I brought it up.

    Of course, it''s highly possible that he does know, but he''s just too rattled from the experience to properly discuss it.

    I''ll know one day, for sure...but I know damn well that today ain''t gonna be that day.

    So for now, I''m just glad he survived through it all.

    I sighed at the bittersweet sight before me and lowered my weapon. ¡°This place is bound to have some first aid lyin'' around somewhere. Lemme go find it and I''ll patch up that leg of yours.¡± The second that I tried to lift myself back up, a sudden wave of nausea hit me¡ªmaking my lingering dizziness even worse. C''mon Genghis, we don''t need you upchucking too. Just take a deep breath, close your eyes, don''t make any sudden move¡ª

    ¡°With all due respect, I think it''s you that needs the medical attention.¡± I shook my head and opened my eyes slowly to see Leroy looking my way again. ¡°I''m fine, man. Doan worry ''bout me.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Genghis, your complexion is looking more pale with each passing minute.¡± Honestly, I wholeheartedly shared his concern. I really wasn''t feeling too good at the moment, and the fluid coming out of my arm was starting to run down my hand and muddy up Myra''s sleek burgundy grip.

    But I got this.

    The worst mistake Leroy, or really anyone could possibly make is underestimating yours truly.

    Like I said a little while ago, Genghis Boy is a very hard guy to kill.

    ¡°Wait here. I''ll be right back.¡± I rushed toward the cash register at the forefront of the built-in diner, decocking Myra and stuffing her back into my waistband. ¡°First aid, first aid...¡± Wasting no time, I slid over the counter-top and squatted down so I could search through every single drawer and cabinet that I could find. My luck, most of the shit I found was just that; shit.

    Unopened packets of bubble gum scattered around a pair of headphones.

    Batteries, most likely dead.

    Wads of chewed up bubble gum sticking to the walls of each space.

    Empty Coca-Cola cans.

    More bubble gum lying around.

    A couple Tootsie Rolls.

    An entire bowl full of nothing but more bubble gum.

    I punched the cabinet door, thoroughly frustrated by the heaping pile of bullshit before me. ¡°Gotta be a goddamn fat, buck-toothed motherfucker runnin'' this fuckin'' shit sho¡ª¡± Suddenly, a beautiful sight caught my eye. In the bottom right cabinet¡ªall the way in the far back¡ªsomething metallic shimmered behind a mountain of sugary teeth rotters. Hopeful, I shoveled the stale candy outta there like I were rowing a boat away from a hungry shark. And with each piece of bubble gum that came flying out onto the floor, the detail in my prize became that much clearer.

    In no time, she was completely exposed to me. Her weathered, but clean metal coat. A forest green cross, front and center on her bosom. Her handle up high, as if she were waving at me¡ªgiving me a kind ¡°Hello¡±. Angels sang in my ears. I could''ve cried if Leroy weren''t waiting for me to mend his leg for him. Practically foaming at the mouth, I yanked the box and held it against my stomach.

    ¡°Ha¡ªha ha! I-I found it, Ler¡ª¡±

    ¡°Interesting.¡±

    ¡­

    My entire train of thought completely stopped as I heard the tell-tale voice of evil. My eyes widened and the first aid kit dropped to the floor with a loud ¡°Clang!¡± I quickly whipped out my revolver and stood up. My eyes focused themselves on Leroy, who was still laid out on the floor. He didn''t notice me, preferring to focus mostly on his own worsening wound pain. With a sickening laugh making itself heard loud and clear, I pointed the gun at him.

    ¡°Interesting!¡± The hairs on the back of my neck stood as I paid extra attention to my friend''s actions. ¡°For such complicated creatures, man sure is easy to disarm.¡± The voice sounded similar to the one Not Leroy spoke with, though it was less distorted and much easier to understand. ¡°I should''ve known better than to question Sister on her wisdom, but my dreams made it too hard to resist!¡± I could hear the voice, but I couldn''t see him speaking the words. His mouth was open, but his lips remained still.

    Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

    This voice...this voice wasn''t coming from Leroy.

    And, from the look of it, he most likely wasn''t even aware that someone was talking.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    No sir.

    This track was playing exclusively inside my head.

    The first time this has happened since I departed for Casa do Dia?o one month ago.

    ¡°W-Who are you?¡± I whispered, still pointing the gun at Leroy. The demon laughed again, making the insides of my brain tingle. ¡°Is that really so important to you, boy? Is knowing who I am really going to help ease your nerves?¡± My vision began to blur, head feeling light as a feather. The moonlight coming from outside the gas station made my eyes feel like they were being pricked with needles.

    I was losing far too much blood.

    My body was begging me to save myself.

    If my prior experience dealing with Zombie Bastard taught me anything, it was that demons love wasting your time.

    And I was fresh out of time that I could afford to waste.

    So on that note, I made it point to ignore anything else the vile bastard had to say and I re-holstered my weapon. I grabbed the metal box, climbed over the counter, and rushed back over to the downed Leroy. Just as I reached him, I fell down to my knees with a pitiful yelp, dropping the box in the process. The sudden noise made him jump, his breaths now coming in slow and coming out fast. ¡°Careful! There''s no need to trip over your own feet for me!¡±

    I coughed loudly, unamused by his attempt at humor. ¡°Was intentional. Doan you wawrry ''bout me. Lemme just fix you up.¡± After a few breaths, I reached out to grab the first aid kit. However, Leroy decided to push my hand away and grab it himself. ¡°Genghis, you''ve had to have lost at least two¡ªpossibly three pints of blood by now. We''re not doing anything with my leg until that arm wound is properly treated.¡± I shook my head and yanked the box away from him. ¡°Your leg is gonna have to be fuckin'' amputated if you keep arguin'' with me over this.¡±

    He stole the kit again. ¡°I''d rather lose my leg than lose my best friend.¡± I growled loudly, once again taking the box from him. ¡°Fuck off, alright?! I ain''t gonna die! I''m gonna fix us both up¡ªget us both back in fightin'' shape! You just gotta let me work!¡± He grabbed my face with both of his hands and pulled me close enough for the tips of our noses to touch. ¡°Listen to me, you stupid oaf! If you continue bleeding all over this gas station, you absolutely will die. Yes, you will. You will die. And guess who''s going to have to break the news to Heidi that the father of her children died because he refused medical treatment. Because he was too prideful to admit that he needed help¡ªtoo selfish to consider how his death may affect the ones who love him!¡±

    I bit the tip of my tongue.

    He brought Heidi into this.

    Reminded me that she was at the hotel, waiting for my safe return.

    Counting on my safe return.

    ¡­

    Fuck this guy.

    I glared at him with gritted teeth and shoved the box into his chest. ¡°Get on with it, then.¡± Leroy let go of me and nodded his thanks. ¡°First, we have to stop the bleeding...somehow.¡± He opened the box and anxiously rummaged his fingers through the contents. ¡°Once that¡¯s done, I imagine we¡¯ll need to clean the wound as much as we can so it doesn¡¯t get infected.¡± He pulled out a number of objects, presumably in pursuit of finding something that he could use as a tourniquet like a thick cord. ¡°Once we do that, we¡¯ll bandage up the wound...¡± Suddenly, he turned the entire box upside down and dumped the remaining contents onto the floor. ¡°I just hope I can...find something. Anything!¡±

    The tone in his voice made me very nervous.

    It was becoming clear to me that this guy ain¡¯t ever treated a serious wound before.

    Or he just wasn¡¯t paying attention to all the bandages, tape rolls, and cloths that fell right next to us.

    It¡¯s okay, Leroy¡ªdon¡¯t waste your precious time taking details into account or anything.

    I¡¯m just bleeding to death, is all.

    ¡°Dude¡ªLeroy! There¡¯s literally medical tape lyin¡¯ right there beside the bottle of Tylenol!¡± ¡°Shh. His goddess tried once before to teach him the importance of self-sufficiency and failed. He¡¯ll never figure it out if people keep coaching him all his life.¡± Oh, fuck me running. I shook my head hard, trying to get the voice to leave me alone. ¡°Self-sufficiency my ass! I¡¯m dyin¡¯ here!¡± ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with that? If it takes the death of cherished friend to teach him, then I say it¡¯s what¡¯s best!¡± I let out a pained cry, clenching my fist. ¡°Fuck you! It ain¡¯t your decision!¡±

    ¡°What isn¡¯t my decision? What are you on about?!¡±

    Leroy''s voice.

    Yeah, I''m sure that''s who was talking to me.

    ¡°You need to calm down, boy. Too much stress is very detrimental to one¡¯s psyche. Why don¡¯t you just close your eyes and sleep?¡± I shook my head again. ¡°I-I doan wanna sleep! Stop tellin¡¯ me to go to fuckin¡¯ sleep!¡± ¡°Nonsense. Is the position you''re in presently a comfortable one? Or would you prefer something easier on those legs of yours?¡± I shook my head one more time, this time much slower as my senses began to shut down one by one. Touch, sight, speech. ¡°Never...I¡¯ll never go to...go to¡­¡±

    ¡°Genghis?¡±

    ¡°That''s it. Nice and easy. Rest those eyes and get the slumber you deserve.¡±

    Everything around me was an abstract blur.

    Just floating blobs of color.

    ¡­

    It was like a painting, almost.

    ¡°Genghis, talk to me!¡±

    Before I knew it, my hand that had been holding onto my wound released its grip.

    My arms dropped to my sides, my body falling forward.

    ¡°No! Don''t give up now! Just hang on!¡±

    My face hit the floor, my consciousness barely hanging by a thread. All outside noises were shuffled somewhere within the obnoxious ringing in my ears. The extent my eyes were able to see was through my peripherals, which currently saw Leroy desperately scrambling to resuscitate me. He slapped my face and tried to shake me awake. I knew that he was doing this because I could still faintly see him in the act of doing it. But I couldn''t feel any of it. No sting from his smack. No disorienting sensation from being shook.

    Nothing.

    I was a goddamn vegetable. It reminded me of back when I used to pop Lithium on a carefully scheduled basis. Yeah really; a carefully scheduled basis. Roy used to leave me little notes on the bathroom mirror every morning before he left to go to work. They''d always be addressed to ¡°Our Fearless Ruler of Mongolia¡± and he always wrote the same thing on each note:

    ¡°Be sure to take your medicine at 1:00 sharp! We love you and don''t want to see you tear yourself apart! We''ll be thinking of you!

    -Your Loyal Soldiers¡±

    He used plural pronouns in all his notes, but I knew damn well it was just Roy. It was always just Roy. My own father didn''t even care enough about me to make sure I was taking care of myself. Then again, to be fair to him, my mother cared even less about me; she was sick of me only after a few lousy months. Either that, or she died somehow.

    Was it cancer?

    Suicide?

    Did my old man beat her to death and dump her body into the Hudson River?

    I guess I¡¯ll never know.

    Guess I¡¯ll never fucking know.

    Leroy was now shoving his hands into my pockets. I don''t know what he was searching for, though. What could my pockets possibly provide for him? All that was in them was my cigarettes, lighter, and wallet. Wallet...this bastard wasn''t trying to loot my corpse, was he? Newsflash Bucko, I ain''t dead yet. Maybe close, but I''m still alive and kicking.

    Yes...alive and kicking like my kids will be in a couple months time. My babies...my precious babies. Daddy will be there the day you''re born, okay? He''ll be right next to your mom, holding her hand while she pushes you both out of her body. Your beautiful, wonderful mother. If you''re girls, I hope you look just like her; have that same gentle soul she has. If you''re boys, I hope you don''t make the same mistakes I made. Just because your old man is a dirty rotten criminal don''t mean you need to be, too. Of course, I''ll understand if you feel like you must follow in my footsteps.

    After all, nobody knows how much the world and life in general sucks more than I do.

    I mean look at me.

    I can''t do anything but sit here and wait for my final breath to escape through my lungs.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    No.

    I can''t die.

    I won''t die.

    Not today¡ªnot ever!

    You hear me?!

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°We''re almost there, Genghis. Please...j-just hang on a wee bit longer. I''m sorry about all of this. I''m sorry...I''m so sorry.¡± My eyes suddenly widened, feeling finally returning to the muscles in my face. ¡°Wha...I-I...h-hear?¡± Yes, I heard Leroy''s voice. I could hear the subtle sniffling in his tone. Leroy Barris was crying. I heard it. The ringing in my ears was gone. Not only that, but I could feel him wrapping his arms around my torso in a rather tight embrace once I spoke to him. ¡°Thank the almighty mother herself! Oh my God¡ªI can''t believe it worked! It worked!¡±

    I sat there dumbfounded as I slowly eased my head back up. ¡°Wh-What¡­¡± My eyes shifted downward, taking note of the large wet spot bled into the upper portion of Leroy¡¯s shirt. Breaking a sweat over me, I see. Though I assumed the largest bulk of the sweat had rolled down his chest, as there was the unmistakable feeling of my wife-beater sticking to my torso. Or maybe I was sweating, too? I wasn¡¯t too sure.

    ¡°What...you steal from...pocket?¡± He pulled away from me and gave me a confused look. His eyes looked like he had just chopped up a dozen onions in a row and his breathing was labored. I could tell he was still in pain from the gunshot wound in his leg. The injury had been open for so long that I feared I''d have to do the unthinkable and hurt him even more. That thought, plus the fact that he once again had to help me with something due to my lack of supernatural powers, made me want to go on a murderous rampage throughout the entire goddamn island. But I said nothing to him about it.

    Instead, a brief moment of silence passed before he burst into heavy laughter.

    ¡°I stole nothing, my friend! I just needed your lighter for a quick moment, that''s all!¡± I cocked an eyebrow, my expression otherwise unchanging. ¡°Why? T-Thinkin'' of stealin'' one of my smokes or somethin''?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Of course not! I needed it for cauterizing your wound.¡± I tilted my head, my eyes widening again. ¡°You burned my arm?¡± He laughed again, slapping my shoulder. ¡°Relax! It was the only way I could stop the bleeding.¡±

    I looked at him for a moment before holding my arm up so I could examine the work he''d done. By the look of it, he had bandaged the entire lower portion of my arm¡ªstarting from the webbing in my hand that separated my index finger from my thumb and stopping right at my elbow. I gave the cast a few squeezes in various spots to see how many layers he put on me. Overall, it wasn''t too tight on me, but I could definitely tell that he went a little nuts with the gauze pads around the area of my wound.

    ¡°Now quiet down and eat this.¡± Leroy handed me a granola bar, still in its wrapping. ¡°It will help you regain the proper blood flow needed to get you back to feeling healthy again.¡± My tongue clicked the roof of my mouth, my taste-buds picking up on a particular taste. Tangy, crisp, hint of cranberry. I guess the dampness on my chest wasn¡¯t sweat after all. And just one look toward the store portion of the gas station confirmed my suspicion. Shit was trashed from here all the way past the entrance¡ªmerchandise lying on the floor, opened cartons of juice sitting in pools of spill, and random blotches of life essence scattered on the floor. Needless to say, none of that was there before all this demon bullshit began.

    Stupid, stupid bastard.

    How long was I even out for?

    ¡°So no stitches, then,¡± I commented as I removed the wrapper from my snack, ¡°No tourniquets, even. You just immediately resorted to settin¡¯ my fuckin'' arm on fire.¡± I took a bite out of the granola bar while he let out a quick sigh. ¡°C''mon, Genghis. I was never really good at sewing up m''holes in m''trousers, let alone sewing up somebody''s skin.¡± I snickered at his accent coming out so abruptly and took another bite. ¡°Same. I''d stitch a fuckin'' sailboat into somebody before I could actually close their flesh wound.¡±

    Speaking of¡­

    I quickly scarfed down the rest of my snack and tossed the wrapper over my shoulder. ¡°Now do me a favor and shut the hell up while I treat that leg of yours.¡± Leroy chuckled nervously. ¡°Are you...are you about to stitch a sailboat into my leg?¡± I shrugged casually, trying to keep my cool as I fished through the first aid kit. ¡°As long as you''ve dicked around without any treatment, I''d try it if it means not havin'' to deal with the responsibility of sawin'' off your leg and replacin'' it with a wooden plank.¡± I looked up at him, grinning weakly. ¡°You know, like the pirates do. Call yah Captain Righty and give you a parrot called Lefty, named after the lovin'' memory of your bipedal days.¡±

    Leroy scoffed, though a hint of a smile was creeping onto his face. ¡°Fuck you. You aren''t funny.¡± I grabbed a pair of tweezers as well as the used bottle of hydrogen peroxide. ¡°Yeah, well neither is getting shot in the leg.¡± I attempted to slide myself over toward his lower body, but stopped halfway as yet another wave of dizziness hit me. ¡°Whoa, shit.¡± I held my head down, taking slow breaths. ¡°Easy,¡± said Leroy¡ªsoft yet authoritative, ¡°You¡¯re still not fully recovered.¡±

    No shit, Sherlock.

    You act like I don¡¯t know that Death just kissed the tip of my dick due to demons controlling your body.

    I shook my head, grabbed the injured leg, examined the wound, and whistled loudly. ¡°Damn, Leroy. That .45 round really did a number on you.¡± That, my friends, was a massive understatement. From the size of the hole I was looking at, he''s lucky Myra was feeling merciful and didn''t just blow the leg clean off his body! At least the tissue around the wound didn''t have any discoloration forming, nor was there an exit wound on the other side. This was good news; it meant that if his bones did take any damage, it was very little. Either way, it appeared to me that amputation wasn''t going to be necessary today. A quiet sigh of relief escaped from my nostrils.

    ¡°Will you be able to get it out?¡± I grunted a quick ¡°Mmhm¡± as I unscrewed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and dabbed a small amount onto the tweezers. ¡°The worst the bullet could''ve done is pushed the ripped fabric of your pant leg into the muscle. Once I pull it out, we''ll clean the wound, close it, bandage you up, and viola! You''re good to limp around the desert again.¡±

    Leroy let out another nervous chuckle. ¡°I-I meant the bullet, Genghis. Can you get the bullet out?¡± I stopped what I was doing and looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. ¡°What bullet?¡± His eyes widened as he tilted his head in confusion. ¡°The bullet you shot me with.¡± I shook my head, cackling in amusement. ¡°There ain''t a bullet to get out, dude! Revolvers ain''t like standard semi-automatic pistols. They doan spit out brass when they fire. The cowboys from back in the Ol'' Wild West used to save money by just ejecting the empty brass from the cylinder and reusing it for reloading.¡± He gave me an inquisitive look, but didn''t say anything. I took that as him wanting to hear more, so I continued explaining as I leaned back down and held his leg in place.

    ¡°Besides, Myra''s bullets are hollow-point. Meanin'' the pellets doan scatter too much when they hit their target.¡± I lowered the tweezers into his open wound, gently pushing away the exposed tissue. ¡°You see, hollow-point bullets are intended to be ¡°kill shots¡±. They ain''t like shotgun shells or rat-shot rounds. Myra''s babies are meant to kill a man quickly and cleanly, not slowly and sloppily.¡± Once I located the torn piece of fabric bunched up into the fatty tissue, I inserted the hydrogen peroxide-laced tweezers deeper into his leg. ¡°I purposely shot a non-fatal area of your body. So all the powder from that .45 round will probably be dug into...this thing.¡± I quickly clamped the fabric and pulled it from his leg. He yelped at the sensation, which resulted in him jerking his leg away from me.

    I grabbed his leg again, this time tightening my hold on it. ¡°Look, I know this shit hurts. But you gotta stay still so I can hurry this up.¡± Leroy bit his lip, groaning loudly. I took the opportunity to drop the bloody piece of clothing onto the floor and take out a couple cotton-balls from the first aid kit. ¡°Alright, so that''s done. Now we clean and disinfect your wound.¡±

    Leroy turned his head around to watch me as I dabbed the cotton-balls with hydrogen peroxide. ¡°I''m guessing you''ve done this before, Genghis?¡± I shrugged, not looking at him. ¡°I dunno, have you ever tended to an arm wound before today?¡± He chuckled lightly. ¡°No. I admit you were my first.¡± Yeah, I kinda figured. A covert smile formed on my face while I leaned down once again. ¡°I know who to complain to if I start itchin'' or if yellowish-green pus starts leakin'' from my bandages, then.¡± I pressed the soaked cotton-balls against the hole in his leg.

    He gasped loudly. ¡°Oh my dear God! Oh...God!¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Man, stop bein'' a pussy. You didn¡¯t see me cryin¡¯ when you doctored up my arm, did you?¡± A few quick breaths escaped from his mouth and nostrils. His response came after beating his fist against the floor once. ¡°I''m not dying at the moment. You were.¡±

    I sighed heavily.

    Here''s hoping this sonuvabitch forgets about that within a few months time.

    ¡°Yeah, well I ain''t dead. So you gotta quit jerkin'' around so I can fix you up.¡± I removed the cotton-balls and looked into the first aid kit, where Leroy had apparently stuffed my lighter by mistake. The same lighter I''ve used on numerous occasions to enjoy a much needed smoke. The same lighter that I''ve used to light candles on nights where me and Heidi enjoyed each others¡¯ company. The same lighter used to cauterize the wound on my arm. The same lighter that saved my life.

    ¡­

    The same lighter that saved my life.

    Saved my life.

    Stopped Genghis Dillinger Boy from meeting his untimely demise.

    Stopped him from dying.

    ¡­

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

    My next words came out in a hushed whisper.

    ¡°Thank you for not lettin'' me die, man.¡±

    I remained silent and in thought for a moment before slapping myself once in the face and yanking the lighter from the box. Once I turned around, I was met with Leroy''s gaze. His eyes were soft and his smile was even softer. I guess he heard me. Shit. Well, at least I don''t have to make things extra awkward by telling him again.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± I said, trying to change the flow of the conversation, ¡°it''s time to close up the wound. You already burned me, so I gonna safely assume that you doan mind if I repay the favor.¡± Leroy shrugged slowly, a hint of reluctance in his body language. ¡°It''s either that or you stitch a sailboat into my leg, I guess.¡± Seriously, why do I even try to tell jokes around this guy? He either laughs like a jackass or starts repeating the same joke over and over again! But alas, I just grinned and clicked the lighter. The trusty flame stood tall and strong, never threatening to flicker out thanks to the tight hold my thumb had on the tiny wheel. I grabbed the tweezers again and held them directly inside the fire.

    ¡°You never answered my question, by the way. The one about you having done this before.¡± No, I didn''t. And yes, it was completely intentional. ¡°Why does that matter? You said yourself that you ain''t ever treated a wound until today.¡± Once I was starting to see the tweezers light up a bit, I killed the flame on the lighter. ¡°I know that. But you seem to have a...startlingly high amount of knowledge regarding gunshot wounds.¡± I bit my lip, lowering myself down again to make the big sizzle and crackle. ¡°Sure. You seen my weapon, right?¡±

    Before he could further interrogate me, I pressed the burning hot metal against his torn flesh.

    As expected, he screamed loudly at the contact.

    ¡°Sweet mother of...fuck!¡± Leroy grabbed his short hair and tugged it, trying to cope with the agonizing pain. I seared the entire outer ring of his injury, gradually slowing the bleeding down more and more. As I did this, I gently tugged his skin to see if anymore blood would flow out. Once it got to the point where nothing else was leaking from the leg, I dropped the tweezers onto the floor and reached for the first aid kit again.

    ¡°Okay! Once we bandage you up, we''ll be done here. Be sure to recommend Doctor Genghis to all your friends and family¡ªand know that I take payment up front normally.¡± Leroy noticed my joke, but was only able to give me an incredibly weak, almost forced-sounding chuckle. Like his jokes are any better. I guess people tend to be critics when they''ve just had their legs scorched. He didn''t say anything else while I wiped the remaining blood on his skin clean and pressed the gauze pads over his wound.

    Unfortunately, this silence ended the moment I started wrapping the bandages around his leg. ¡°Why don''t you want to talk about your experience with gunshot wounds? You''re always so trigger-happy and violent. I figured you¡¯d be all for telling me stories about some close encounters you¡¯ve had.¡± I looked over at him, grilling him harshly. ¡°There''s a difference between shootin'' and bein'' shot, Leroy. It''s okay when you''re the one bringin'' the pain¡ªnot so much when you''re the one receivin'' it.¡± He sighed, turning his head to face me just before dropping the million dollar question.

    ¡°Who shot you?¡±

    I swallowed my incoming breath. ¡°Nobody, alright? New York City is just a very...very brutal city. Lots of violence all day, every day.¡± He continued staring me down, unsatisfied with my answer. ¡°I grew up there, remember? I saw all sawrts of shit as a kid!¡± More intense staring. ¡°What do you want me to say, Leroy?¡± His eyes remained glued onto me, expression never changing.

    ¡°I want you to tell me who shot you.¡±

    I glared at him, completely silent. How on Earth could I word this so this conversation wouldn''t get any more awkward than it already was? Why did he need to know this shit? What made him think for one single second that any of it was his business?

    ¡­

    I sighed one more time before looking away from him and continuing to wrap up his leg.

    ¡°My old man.¡±

    Leroy let out a loud ¡°What?!¡± in response to the secret revealed to him. I nodded slowly and continued to work. ¡°He''s a lousy drunk. Always has been, always will be. He used to be much worse before Heidi and her dad moved in with us, though.¡± I reached down and severed the bandage tape with my teeth before fastening it to his cast. ¡°He kept his old M1 Carbine from his boot camp days¡ªconsidered it both his most treasured memory and his most disappointin¡¯. He hated that he never got to fight in the war. Made him feel like he had nothin'' else to offer his country.¡±

    I put my supplies back into the first aid kit and closed it, bracing myself mentally for the retelling of memories I long since tried to bury into the deepest crevices of my mind. ¡°The first thing he''d do after comin'' home from work was crack open a cold one and sit down in his chair. I usually tried to avoid him when he was home, hidin'' in my room¡ªonly comin'' out when I absolutely had to.¡± I took a quick breath and tried to ignore the shakiness in my hands. ¡°But some nights that didn''t work. Some nights he''d kick my door in and yell at me. Call me a Dirty Red and throw shit at me, screamin¡¯ for me to leave his country.¡± My breathing started coming out faster and unsteadier, the memory now clearer than a cloudless sky in my head.

    ¡­

    Five year old me.

    Standing in my room, back against the wall.

    Charlie Brown kicking a football on my shirt.

    Multiple Snoopys flying airplanes on my pajama bottoms.

    Tears streaming down my face.

    Urine trickling down my leg.

    That fat sonuvabitch chucking silverware and plates at me.

    Sometimes they miss and hit the wall¡ªthe plates shattering on impact.

    Other times, they whack me and make me scream and cry harder.

    I beg him to stop.

    I beg him to stop¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°I...was just a boy. A little, helpless boy. I didn¡¯t know what a Red even was.¡± I bit my bottom lip once the tell-tale sensation of tears began making its presence known in my eyes. ¡°Most of the time he''d just grab me and beat me up, other times he''d pick up random objects lyin'' ''round and hit me with those. Shoes, brooms, steel calipers¡ªyou name it. And a few times...¡± I shook my head, trying to keep my composure the best I could. ¡°He''d t-take out that M1. A-And he''d...and he''d...¡±

    Leroy laid his hand on my shoulder.

    ¡°It''s okay, Genghis. You don''t have to say anymore.¡±

    His voice was quiet and irritatingly gentle. Seriously, why did this prick have to push his luck like this? Why? I continued looking away, refusing to look at him until the wetness rolling down my face was finished. I took another quick breath right before taking a longer, deeper one. ¡°Neighbors complained all the time about the noise, even calling the law on him a couple of times. He¡¯d just pick me up and toss me in the shower while the cops questioned him in the livin¡¯ room. They¡¯d let him go with a slap on the wrist and leave...only to come back a couple nights later.¡± I put my face down into my hands, trying to halt the intense sobbing threatening to come out in full force. ¡°It was a neverendin¡¯ cycle, you know? This shit didn¡¯t stop until some time after my eighth birthday when Roy and Heidi moved in. Dad promised them he''d cut back on the drinkin''. Sure enough, he did. He cut back on it for them.¡±

    But not for me.

    Never for me.

    ¡°I''m so sorry. I shouldn''t of pried.¡± I wiped the tears off my face, a single whimper accidentally coming out. ¡°N-No. No you shouldn''t of.¡± An unintentional crack in my voice occurred as I said this, making me instantly clear my throat and smack my face two more times. Calm the fuck down, Genghis. We don''t need Leroy seeing you cry like a bitch. He''d never let you live it down.

    Never.

    ¡°Oh well.¡± I quickly stood up, subtly wiping my face on my cast. ¡°Shit happens, I guess. Nothin'' I can do about it but move on, you know?¡± I looked up at the ceiling, took one more deep breath, and turned to look down at Leroy. ¡°Let''s get you back on your feet so we can get the hell outta here.¡± I held my hand out, forcing out a smirk. ¡°Before you decide you tear another chunk outta my arm.¡±

    Leroy stared at me, examining my face. No doubt he was focusing on the bloodshot texture of my eyeballs, taking note of the remaining dampness in my sockets that I couldn¡¯t just wipe away¡ªnot with him watching me. I knew I¡¯d been figured out, but still I insisted on holding my smirk. After all, I¡¯d rather him see my face after a good cry rather than during. After a moment, he let out a subtle sigh through his nose. ¡°I...deserve that.¡± He grabbed my hand and I pulled him up slowly, catching him when he accidentally used his injured leg to hold his weight down. I wrapped my good arm around his waist so he wouldn¡¯t fall over and he threw his own arm over my shoulders. ¡°We should consider bringing that kit with us. You know, for the next time we nearly ki¡ª¡±

    A sudden flash from outside the gas station stopped us in our tracks. It started out relatively dull, but grew brighter within seconds. Once the light was closer enough, my ears perked up as a couple distinct sounds made themselves heard. Rolling tires. A running engine being turned off. A driver''s side door being opened and quickly closed.

    Somebody was here.

    At this gas station.

    With a car.

    A fully operational car, at that.

    Over toward the entrance of the gas station, the front door swung open. Entering was some chubby, Hispanic motherfucker wearing cowboy boots, bell-bottom jeans, a leather biker vest, and a forest green visor. I couldn''t help but snicker. This asshole either needed help dressing himself, or he didn''t know what fashion style he was feeling tonight. Was he trying to be a Tijuana drug lord? An Acapulco tourist straight outta the 1970''s? Maybe he was a smuggler from Juarez that was trying to fit in with the ¡°white¡± crowd. Or perhaps even an El Paso native that thought he was going on vacation to a tropical island!

    I''m telling you, it was the most amazing thing I''ve ever seen.

    The first thing he did upon entering the gas station was stop dead in his tracks and slap his hands against his face. ¡°Dios m¨ªo! Lo que pas¨® aqu¨ª?!¡± He frantically looked around the room before turning to look at us. His jaw dropped. ¡°Dios m¨ªo!¡± I cracked a huge, manic smile. I could only imagine what this guy was probably thinking. He was out in the middle of the desert in the dead of night. He stumbles across this old, run down gas station. The inside looks like it was hit by a hurricane. Two strange dudes are staring at him. Blood blankets the floor as well as their bodies.

    It was almost Satanic.

    Hell, what am I saying¡ªit was absolutely Satanic.

    Everything about it.

    ¡°O-Oye, maricas! Tu trabajas aqui?¡± Me and Leroy looked at each other and back at him. ¡°Say what, se?or?¡± He made a noise indicating that he didn''t understand what I had said just before pointing a finger at me. ¡°Y-You?¡± I pointed at myself, cocking an eyebrow. ¡°What? You talkin'' to me, pal?¡± The poorly dressed visitor then pointed over at the cash register behind us. ¡°Y-You work? Ah? You work?¡±

    Leroy shook his head. ¡°No, we do not work here.¡± Mister Broken English nodded and held a hand up to his face with only his thumb and pinky sticking out; likely representing a telephone. ¡°Buddy, if there''s a phone in this dump then it sure as shit doan work.¡± He gave me another look and shook his hands. ¡°No! Necesito hacer una llamada, est¨²pido cabr¨®n!¡± I sighed and gave Leroy another look. ¡°Look. I''ve had a bad day. You''ve had a bad day. Can I just kill this asshole so we can take his wheels and get the fuck outta this desert?¡± Without hesitating, he jerked his head toward the intruder.

    ¡°Be my guest.¡±

    With that, I whipped Myra out and shot a hole in the drug lord-tourist-smuggler-El Paso local''s head and watched him fall to the ground in all of his mismatched glory.

 Chapter Twenty-One: Operation Armored Raccoons; Part 4/5

    ¡­

    Step Five: Shut Up and drive¡ªnow at 250 horsepower!

    ¡­

    ¡°Ooh, a storm is threat¡¯ning myyy very liiife today...if I don¡¯t get some sheellter, oh yeah I¡¯m gonna fade away¡­¡±

    Tires branded the road at one-hundred and thirty-five miles per hour. The roar of her V8 engine echoed throughout the lonely desert, moonlight graciously bouncing off the beautiful finish of her turquoise body. Her hips swayed easily along the path as her smooth gear shift nuzzled into the palm of my hand¡ªthe perfect dance partner. Her name was Mercedes-Benz, and this carjacker was six years her senior.

    Mick Jagger and Merry Clayton¡¯s all-too-enthusiastic voices blared at maximum volume through the speakers. ¡°Waaaaar, children! It¡¯s just a shot away! It¡¯s just a shot away! Waaaaar, children...it¡¯s just a shot away! It¡¯s just a shot away!¡± Of course, neither me nor Leroy minded all that much. Compared to the incident that happened back at the gas station a few hours ago, listening to The Rolling Stones was like having a m¨¦nage ¨¤ trois with two luscious blondes. Hell, at this point I¡¯d eagerly pay the old poncy bastards to lull me to sleep with an hour long repeat of ¡°Paint it Black¡±!

    And we ain¡¯t even been to the military base yet.

    Christ.

    Fuck my life in all the positions you like.

    Every once in awhile, my gaze would discreetly shift towards the direction of my passenger, who was sitting to my left in good ol¡¯ European automotive fashion. Leroy had been very quiet since we nabbed ourselves this sweet ride. I knew his mind wasn¡¯t exactly in the best place. How could it be? He had fallen victim to the otherworldly forces plaguing this tainted island. He had been possessed by one of them...or maybe he actually became one of them? How long would it be before he turned again? How long would it be before I turned?

    Before I turned¡­?

    ¡­

    I yanked the sun visor down to look at my face. Other than sporting some seriously stricken browns and a noticeably sunburned complexion, I appeared to still be a normal human being. However, you never know in a hellhole like Casa do Dia?o. My skin could suddenly fall off my body, revealing a grotesque skeleton with all of its muscles and organs still intact. Or, even better, some Dead by Dawn shit happens and my reflection jumps out of the mirror to kick my ass. Hey, I¡¯ve had just about everything else happen to me, haven¡¯t I? And it has been awhile since I¡¯ve seen Genghis Two or Zombie Bastard lurking around the insides of my brain. Who¡¯s to say they ain¡¯t still around, waiting for the perfect opportunity to jump me?

    After a moment of staring at my reflection, my left hand retreated from the steering wheel and touched my face. My fingertips gently tugged at the bags under my eyes, exposing the red-tinted whites hidden underneath the skin-flaps. Then I relaxed my jaw and lifted my lips. My tongue swiped across the bottoms of my upper teeth and then returned to poke at my canines for a while. Nothing outta the ordinary, it seemed. My teeth weren¡¯t longer than they were before, nor were they any sharper. No discoloration, no distortion.

    Everything looked alright.

    But looks ain¡¯t everything.

    ¡°Raaape, murder! It¡¯s just a shot away! It¡¯s just a shot away! Raaape, murder¡ªyeeaaah! It¡¯s just a shot away! It¡¯s just a SHOT away! Raaape, MURDER! It¡¯s just a shot away! It¡¯s just a shot away¡ªyeeaaah¡­¡±

    Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Not all rapes and murders are committed on the fiery streets. And, evidently, not all atrocities are committed by man. The Stones ain¡¯t gonna mention that detail, though. Merry Clayton sure as hell ain¡¯t gonna blow her voice out over it. Only religion junkies really put a lot of stock in the supernatural. Hell, if you asked me a little over a month ago, I¡¯d agree that it was all bullshit. But now? This was shit you¡¯d see in a goddamn movie. I couldn¡¯t tell if all of this was really happening or if I was actually in a padded room back in New York City, wailing about monsters like a traumatized Vietnam veteran.

    Sorry, Mick.

    There ain¡¯t no shelter from these fires.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, friend¡­¡± Leroy¡¯s voice jolted me out of my thoughts and I quickly flipped the sun visor back up. ¡°...but I usually find it difficult to focus on my driving when I¡¯m more interested in making faces in the mirror.¡± I looked over at him as my hand grabbed the steering wheel again. ¡°Yeah? I imagine it would be hard for somebody who never drives actual cars.¡±

    Leroy stared at me for a moment, no doubt contemplating how safe he should be when picking his next set of words. If the baggy eyes and overall mopey expression on his face was any indicator, I¡¯d say that he felt like rank shit over this whole situation. He wanted to say he was sorry for injuring me. He wanted to say that he hoped I¡¯d forgive him one of these days. You see, my friends, Leroy certainly wanted to say these things...but he wasn¡¯t gonna; not right now, anyway. Before he could ask me for my forgiveness, he needed to first forgive himself for allowing what had happened to happen. This being said, I could tell it was gonna be a long time before he¡¯d feel comfortable addressing the gigantic fucking elephant in the room.

    ¡°I do drive actual cars, believe it or not,¡± Leroy finally muttered, ¡°I guess you forgot about the snow covering up the roads in Norte, Sur, and Oeste District.¡± I gave him an empty chuckle before looking back at the road. ¡°There ain¡¯t any snow where it matters currently.¡± He leaned forward in his seat, craning his neck toward me. ¡°Is this your way of saying that you want me to take over the wheel?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m okay. Besides, I doan trust you drivin¡¯ with that leg of yours. Your pansy ass might hurt yourself by puttin¡¯ too much pressure on the clutch or somethin¡¯. Wind up rammin¡¯ us into a fuckin¡¯ cactus or two.¡± Leroy returned the empty chuckle. ¡°Fair enough. But maybe I don¡¯t trust you driving when all you want to do is stare at your damn reflection.¡±

    Nice response.

    He was trying to move forward; emphasis on the word ¡°trying¡±.

    Trying to place his worries on the back-burner.

    Trying to find a reason to smile tonight.

    Lord knew I needed to do the same.

    I forced my lips to curl into a crooked smile as I looked over at Leroy again, trying to concoct a witty response that would lighten the mood. Something that would take our minds off this terrible night for a little while, at least. ¡°What can I say? I¡¯m a sexy bastard.¡± He snorted. ¡°You¡¯re certainly one of those things.¡± My smile widened as I gave him a delightfully cheesy wink. ¡°You doan need to say which. I can see the lust in your eyes.¡± Leroy cocked an eyebrow and smirked. ¡°Right. Men who talk like Bugs Bunny¡¯s drunken uncle while looking like they just shoved a quarter up their arsehole really get my loins foired up, I tell yah what.¡±

    Ha.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± I responded, looking back at the road. ¡°Tall black dudes that sound like spaced-out leprechauns ain¡¯t exactly my thing, either.¡± Leroy scoffed and punched my shoulder. ¡°Fuck you! Just focus on the road, you filthy American dog.¡± I licked my bottom lip, busting through the cheeky grin plastered onto my face. ¡°You¡¯re from Alabama, you fuckin¡¯ lush. You just think you¡¯re Irish!¡±

    ¡°You mean like how you pretend to be Italian?¡± My foot eased off the accelerator a bit. ¡°Buddy, my old man¡¯s folks immigrated from straight outta the Aeolian Islands. If I were any more Italian, I¡¯d have meatballs stuffed in my pockets!¡± Leroy blew some air from his lips. ¡°That only makes you Italian by blood, not upbringing. You¡¯re still a greasy slimeball from Brooklyn.¡± At this point, I looked at him and rubbed my fingertips underneath my chin. ¡°Vuoi scommettere, stronzo?¡± He cackled loudly, shaking his head. "Linguistics aside, you¡¯re still a loud-mouth, hotdog sucking, football fetishizing brute!¡±

    Up came my eyebrows. ¡°Man, what?! I doan even¡ª¡± Laughter erupted from my gut in a spontaneous burst. I¡¯d never heard that description for Americans before. I was almost upset that I wasn¡¯t the one that came up with it! But only almost. The only reason I was willing to let it slide this time around was because Leroy was willing to humor me in my feeble attempt to make a bad situation somewhat bearable. His mind was still a restricted area for me, but I was beginning to see remnants of the fun-loving guy I know through his rediscovered sense of humor.

    He found his lost smile...for now, at least.

    ¡°You know what? Fuck you. You take the wheel; I gotta stretch my legs for a bit anyway.¡±

    We don¡¯t need two nervous trainwrecks blasting through the demon-inhabited desert, you know.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Hands bound.

    Legs tied.

    Lips sewn shut.

    A tall, scantily-clad demoness towers over me as the hot desert sand burns into my skin.

    ¡°You already know that it¡¯s not just the desert. You know well that our influence is strong even outside of this island. You¡¯ve seen how our process normally works. You¡¯ve experienced it first hand; for yourself and others. You should consider this knowledge a gift, and yet you always express disappointment over it. Pity. A typical human doing what typical humans are greatly known for doing; biting the hand that feeds them.

    ¡­

    I do look forward to seeing what you have to offer our humble island, Mr. Boy. Maybe you truly can make it a safer place. If not for yourself, than maybe for those precious children of yours.¡±

    She points Myra at the space between my eyes.

    I hear the four clicks of death and my heart shatters into a million pieces; my own gun has betrayed me.

    Her finger squeezes the trigger.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    I jolted forward in my seat, drenched in sweat. Whether the sweat was the result of the dry desert air or what the dark crevices of my mind had cooked up for dinner, I wasn¡¯t exactly sure. What I did know was that it was now daytime, probably late morning or early noon. Roger Daltrey was on the radio, singing about his love being vengeance. To my right was Leroy Barris, who had one hand grasping the steering wheel and the other aiming his nine-millimeter Beretta at me. I¡¯d say that this action rattled me, but it honestly didn¡¯t. I mean, I sorta shot this dude less than a day ago; not to mention that I bloodied his face up some time before demons decided to hijack his body.

    At this point, I was expecting him to blow at least two or three holes through me.

    ¡°What¡¯re you dreaming about, Genghis?¡± I wiped the sweat off my face with my cast. ¡°Uh, well, you know...nothin¡¯ that¡¯s killed me yet.¡± Leroy snorted. ¡°What a precious answer that is. Is it anything the both of us need to be concerned about?¡± I shrugged weakly. ¡°We¡¯re already concerned about everythin¡¯ else, man. This ain¡¯t nothin¡¯ new to us.¡±

    That was only partially true, ladies and gentlemen. The voice that spoke to me was probably new to Leroy, but definitely not me. This being was one that I¡¯ve seen once before¡ªback when I was watching David Jostens murder his girlfriend. Yes, I¡¯m talking about the guinea pig shapeshifter bitch.

    The ¡°doting daughter¡± had rescued me from my old apartment back in Brooklyn, which was on fire for some reason. She dropped me off in the desert and you guys know the rest of the story. She was as tall as I remember her, though she wore clothing this time around. Granted, it was a loosely fitted black robe that still left very little to the imagination. Unfortunately, it¡¯s hard to be turned on by a skimpy lady when her dark eyes are burning into your soul and her sinister voice echoes in your ears even after she vanishes into her cloud of white mist.

    ¡°I do look forward to seeing what you have to offer our humble island, Mr. Boy. Maybe you truly can make it a safer place. If not for yourself, than maybe for those precious children of yours.¡±

    I shivered hard and leaned against the door, watching the desert pass by. ¡°I-It¡¯s all good. You can put your little peashooter away now.¡± Leroy sighed and put the gun down. ¡°Sorry, Genghis. I just...want to be careful, you know?¡± My forehead pressed itself against the window. ¡°I ain¡¯t sure how we can possibly be careful so long as we¡¯re trapped in this sizzlin¡¯ abyss.¡± He chuckled quietly. ¡°Maybe we should just stop sleeping. At least until we make it back into colder climate.¡±

    ¡°I do look forward to seeing what you have to offer our humble island, Mr. Boy.¡±

    ¡°I might just do that,¡± I murmured as I watched my reflection, taking note of the still human looking eyes and nose.

    ¡­

    There was about half an hour in-between me waking up and Leroy finally cracking from the long hours spent driving. ¡°So much sand! I can¡¯t take it anymore!¡± he whined repeatedly for a good ten minutes before actually pulling over to the side of the road. Wimp. That¡¯s what riding snow waves all goddamn day gets you. Sure, you get to look all flashy and cool manipulating the elements to your advantage...but at a serious cost. It makes you soft¡ªweak!

    Leroy stepped out and limped over into the sandy field on my side, tugging on his crotch zipper. This left yours truly in charge of checking up on Mercedes¡ªmaking sure all of her systems were still good enough to get us to Breog¨¢n Capital Hall. While I ain¡¯t much of a mechanic, I know a thing or two about cars from the few times I¡¯ve watched my old man work on snooty old people¡¯s Cadillacs. You see, ladies and gentlemen, Dad was a failure in just about every aspect of life. Fixing cars, however, was the one thing he excelled at besides drinking enough alcohol to fuel a jet plane. And through my curious observations, I learned that the first step to giving a thorough vehicular inspection was seeing if any warning lights were lit up on the dashboard.

    I climbed over into the driver¡¯s seat, getting the full blast from the strong AC. Upon first glance, I was pleased to see that the incredibly unwelcome ¡°Check Engine¡± light wasn¡¯t staring me down. There also wasn¡¯t anything indicating a low battery, low tire, faulty brake system, dead lightbulb, or failing power steering. The only thing the car seemed to be bitching about at the moment was me not wearing my seatbelt. Our deceased amigo must¡¯ve had the car serviced before making his ill-fated trip into the desert.

    He made one good decision during his lifetime, at least.

    My eyes then shifted toward the fuel gauge, which marked itself at one notch over half a tank. This was a good sign, considering that we gassed up at Satan¡¯s Pit last night; our girl efficiently handled her gallons. Plus, it meant that I didn¡¯t have to step foot into another gas station for quite some time. You know, I thought I¡¯d be over this ¡°Gas Stations Enjoy Raping Genghis¡¯ Life¡± bullshit after leaving the United States. It looks like I was very fucking wrong.

    Beside the fuel gauge was the tachometer, which ticked our RPM level as just a little bit over the zero marker due to idling. The speedometer was to the left; we were currently travelling at zero miles per hour. A sigh of relief admittedly escaped from my lips upon this realization. I know, you guys. We were parked, my foot wasn¡¯t tapping the accelerator¡ªI get it.

    I¡¯m just...cautious, okay?

    Above the speedometer and tachometer was the odometer. For a fourteen year old car, I was surprised to see that our gal only had seventeen-hundred miles under her belt. My guess was that she spent a large chunk of her life sitting inside somebody¡¯s garage. She was probably an old family heirloom and Ol¡¯ Mexican Face-Down decided that he¡¯d take her out for a drive in the desert. Too bad that would be the last time his ass ever sat in this comfortable leather seat.

    All-in-all, everything seemed to be working just fine.

    That is, until I noticed the temperature gauge.

    ¡°Shit.¡± I quickly killed the engine once I noticed that the red ticker was sitting two notches above the halfway mark. I didn¡¯t know if it was the hot desert, the long hours driving, or a combination of all the above. Regardless of the reason, Mercedes¡¯ radiator was hot¡ªtoo hot. The last thing we needed was the car overheating on us in the middle of the goddamn desert.

    So my new plan was to keep the car turned off until Leroy returned and hope that it would be a long enough wait for the radiator to cool down. Surely it would be, right? The guy¡¯s got a bad leg, for crying out loud! It was gonna be a challenge for him to successfully hobble away from the car, empty his bladder, and then hobble back without toppling over face-first into the hot sand. I mean shit; if he couldn¡¯t even get into the car without having to hold on to me for support, I seriously doubted this task would be easy for him to do all by himself!A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    If¡ªfor some unforeseen reason¡ªLeroy was able to make this a relatively quick pit-stop, I feared our ETA for Breog¨¢n Capital Hall would be greatly delayed on a count of us constantly having to stop and wait. Either that, or we just wait until the sun sets before we drive any further. Obviously, I didn¡¯t like the sound of that option a single bit.

    We had a mission to do.

    I got a lady waiting for me back in Oeste District; I can¡¯t be wasting time twiddling my thumbs in this fucking desert.

    Plus I really, really wanted the AC kept on at all times.

    You understand.

    ¡°Gotta be a bottle of coolant somewhere in here,¡± I grumbled to myself as I opened up the glove compartment. No surprise, all it contained was registration papers and empty cigarette boxes. After shutting the small compartment, I turned around and climbed partially into the backseat. When I found nothing but our bags and jackets¡ªplus my hat lying on top of our newly acquired first aid kit on the floorboard, I stepped out of the car. ¡°Gotta be fuckin¡¯ kiddin¡¯ me¡­¡± I opened the trunk on the Mercedes-Benz and searched feverishly.

    I found a spare tire.

    I found a charging cable for the battery.

    Hell, I even found a full gas canister.

    But no fucking coolant.

    ¡­

    This motherfucker took a trip into the desert and didn¡¯t bring any goddamn coolant to use in the case that his car started overheating on him.

    ¡°Sonuvabitch!¡± I slammed the trunk shut and kicked the left rear tire. I¡¯ll tell you one thing; it¡¯s a fucking relief that me and Leroy jacked this car when we did. If we didn¡¯t, Mercedes would¡¯ve ended up just as broken as her stupid ex-owner¡¯s English. In fact, I was willing to bet that this was the entire reason the bastard was looking for a phone at that accursed gas station. He didn¡¯t realize that the desert was hot as balls during the daytime, so he planned on calling somebody who was mechanically-skilled to give him advice. After hours of combing the desert for signs of life, he finally found a ratty gas station out in the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately, he arrived during that portion of the night when demons and crazy thugs were wide awake and wreaking havoc.

    But that didn¡¯t stop him¡ªno sir!

    He thought, ¡°Maybe this shack has a phone in it. I¡¯m sure somebody will answer my call at graveyard-shift o¡¯clock!¡±

    Fucking idiot.

    ¡°Genghis, what¡¯s the trouble?!¡± I turned around and saw Leroy slowly limping his way back toward the car. When I say slowly, I mean that a flock of old geezers using walkers could¡¯ve probably bested him in a footrace. My new plan was looking promising, so far. ¡°The desert; that¡¯s the fuckin¡¯ trouble here!¡± I gestured toward the trunk of the car. ¡°And the damn car¡¯s runnin¡¯ a fuckin¡¯ fever!¡±

    ¡°A fever?! What are you talking about?!¡± Leroy noticeably stumbled at the word ¡°fever¡±, but didn¡¯t completely fall on his ass. Impressive. ¡°Her temperature gauge is gettin¡¯ really high, man!¡± I pointed at the road behind the car. ¡°And that fat fuck from last night didn¡¯t leave us any coolant to use on her!¡±

    Leroy stopped walking, a noticeable look of worry smearing itself on his mug. ¡°W-Will the car make it to the capital?!¡± I glared at him and shrugged. ¡°The fuck should I know?! I doan even know how much further of a drive we¡¯re lookin¡¯ at!¡± His gaze switched back and forth between me and Mercedes as he mentally worked out the math in his head. At least that¡¯s what I assumed he was doing, anyway.

    After a moment, he shook his head and continued his walk. ¡°We don¡¯t have too much further, friend! In fact, we should start seeing the first couple of signs within the next thirty to fifty miles!¡± Great. This Mercedes-Benz might not make twenty miles, let alone thirty or fifty! Cool your head, Genghis. You can¡¯t fight the military when you¡¯re too busy panicking. ¡°You better be right, man!¡± As Leroy got closer, I opened the passenger door for him. ¡°If I¡¯m wrong, then you have permission to shoot my other leg!¡±

    Don¡¯t test me, buddy.

    I may just take you up on that bargain.

    He grabbed onto my shoulder blade as he eased himself into the car. Once he was inside, I closed the door and walked around to the driver¡¯s side. Heavy, deep breaths escaped from my nostrils. We were so close. Once we were done dealing with the bureaucratic pencil-necks over at Breog¨¢n Capital Hall, everything else would be smooth-sailing. I closed my door and cranked the engine. The fucking temperature gauge had only gone down one notch.

    I sighed loudly.

    ¡°Is now too soon to shoot you, Leroy?¡±

    ¡­

    Operation Armored Raccoons, phase two.

    ¡­

    Alright, so Leroy technically wasn¡¯t wrong about the distance. Once we got the motor running again, I¡¯d say we drove about...twenty-five...thirty miles before we saw the road sign advertising the city limits? Yeah, that sounds about right. Either way, his prediction wasn¡¯t exactly wrong; so I didn¡¯t need to put another bullet hole in his body. This being said, I want to make it known that my initial prediction was also spot-on.

    You know, the one about us having to stop and start the damn car every five minutes for the remainder of the drive?

    Yeah, we still had to fucking do that.

    So what should¡¯ve taken us maybe thirty minutes at most from our last pit-stop ended up taking us five and a half hours. I repeat; what should¡¯ve taken us thirty minutes from our last pit-stop ended up taking us five and a half motherfucking hours. By the time we finally reached the city limits of Casa do Dia?o¡¯s capital, the Winter sun was already in the process of turning in for the night. That¡¯s right; we made it to the capital city too fucking late in the day for us to speak to the fat-cats over at Breog¨¢n Capital Hall.

    Boy, was Heidi gonna kick my ass something serious when I finally came back to Oeste.

    I predicted I¡¯d be barred from the bed for at least three or four days.

    Alas, the transition into the city wasn¡¯t as impressive as I thought it would be. Out of my list of guesses I had regarding the city¡¯s relationship to the desert, it seems like my ¡°Las Vegas¡± theory was closer to the truth. Despite coming across a shitload of skyscrapers, bright lights, and fancy cars cruising through the evening streets, we were still in the goddamn desert. No fancy barriers, no magical and/or demonic energies altering our perceptions, no sudden encounters with supernatural beings; just a bunch of tall buildings, snobby city-slickers, and air so dry your sweat evaporates as soon as it¡¯s excreted.

    After an entire month of snowy desolation and Lovecraftian horrors threatening my life, I considered this a breath of fresh air.

    We pulled into the first motel that we could find and got ourselves a room. I¡¯m fairly certain that the frail, Nosferatu-looking creep manning the front desk made some kind of wisecrack about two men sharing a room. However, I couldn¡¯t tell since he¡ªlike every other motherfucker on this pigsty of an island¡ªdidn¡¯t speak a word of English. But the bedroom eyes he flashed at the two of us after purring a phrase that sounded like ¡°Veel plezier, jullie twee¡± told me that he might¡¯ve thought we were gay. Not that that mattered to me, really. I just wanted to rest my aching back on a nice, cozy mattress after a long, gruelling trip into the desert.

    And that¡¯s precisely what I did the second that I closed the door behind us.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°I do look forward to seeing what you have to offer our humble island, Mr. Boy.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡­

    I got out of bed roughly around six o¡¯clock in the morning after an expectedly piss-poor attempt to get some shut-eye. Leroy was still slumped over the other bed, faintly snoring. I figured it was too early to wake him up at this point, so I took advantage of my temporary alone time and enjoyed a long, cool shower. It¡¯s funny when you think about it. Me and Heidi have been complaining about the frigid weather in Oeste District this entire time, but all of that shit suddenly goes forgotten after you spend two nights in the burning desert. Though she probably wouldn¡¯t feel the same way, considering that she complains about hot flashes when it¡¯s below zero outside.

    Seven months to go, Genghis.

    Just seven months.

    After stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and re-entered the bedroom. One quick look at the clock hanging above the television set told me that I¡¯d been bathing for a little over an hour and a half. ¡°Let¡¯s see,¡± I thought aloud to myself, scratching the stubble on my jaw, ¡°what time did these fruity government offices open back home?¡± That was a good question, ladies and gentlemen. The closest I¡¯d ever been to visiting any kind of elected official was whenever I stepped inside the King¡¯s County Criminal Courthouse back home. I couldn¡¯t remember exactly what time that place opened, but I did remember that it was relatively early in the morning when I stood trial for the murders of Benny Murray and Jason Frisk; I wanna say about nine-thirtyish.

    The time was currently seven forty-two.

    That gave us a little over two hours to wake up, shower and get dressed, check out of the motel, grab a bite to eat, and find the capital hall.

    ¡­

    Yeah, I¡¯d say Leroy¡¯s nap time was officially over.

    ¡°Rise and shine, Lucky Charms!¡± I kicked his bedpost, which emitted a rattling noise loud enough to scare him awake. ¡°What?!¡± He nearly rolled off the bed in the midst of his panic, which admittedly made me laugh. ¡°You heard me! Go grab a shower so I can get changed in peace, alright?¡± After a few quick breaths, Leroy looked at the clock and then back at me, glaring. ¡°It¡¯s not even eight, Genghis. Go back to bed.¡± I crossed my arms, still grinning widely. ¡°Nah, I ain¡¯t tired. Besides, I wanna stir up shit over in Leste District at some point in the near future.¡± He sighed loudly and laid back down. ¡°We will stir shit up in Leste District; I promise. For now, just relax and go back to sleep.¡±

    Mmm, I didn¡¯t like that answer very much.

    ¡°Forget it, dude. I ain¡¯t good at sleepin¡¯. Never have been; my brain¡¯s always tellin¡¯ me all this shit that I already know and it doan really know how or when to shut up.¡± Leroy grabbed one of his pillows and chucked it at my chest. ¡°Count sheep, then.¡± I scoffed loudly and picked the pillow back up. ¡°Fuck you I¡¯m gonna count sheep! That never worked for me as a kid and it sure as shit ain¡¯t gonna work now!¡± I stepped toward the lazy bastard and raised the pillow over my head. My grip tightened as I began pounding him with it.

    ¡°Now get the fuck up! We got alotta work to do today! Stop loafin¡¯ ¡®round and get on your feet!¡± Leroy growled loudly and kicked me away from him. ¡°Alright, alright! I¡¯m awake!¡± He pounded his fist against the mattress and climbed out of bed. ¡°Heidi has the patience of a saint...¡± Through his grumbles, he dragged his feet into the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind him.

    Satisfied with my victory, I snickered as I let my towel fall to the ground surrounding my feet.

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Leroy was our driver once we left the motel behind. Since Nosferatu never sauntered by to inform us of any complimentary breakfast, we made a quick stop at a nice little diner just two blocks from where we were staying. Yeah, you heard that right; a nice building...in Casa do Dia?o. The lavender exterior was just as pristine as the sunset-orange interior, freshly watered flowers sat on each table, the bar was so clean that you could see your reflection on the countertop, and it was one of the few places that had an English name; Bella¡¯s Eatery. I didn¡¯t know Miss Bella personally nor did I know what she even looked like, but I decided that she was gonna be one of my favorite people in Casa do Dia?o. The pancakes alone were some of the best I¡¯d ever eaten; blueberries and blackberries baked into them, freshly batched maple syrup, batter so fluffy that it melts on your tongue--mmph! Cast me away to your savory heaven, Baking Gods!

    ¡­don¡¯t judge me, you culinarily ignorant boneheads.

    Once we paid our bill, we made our way to Hand-Rubber¡¯s Haven¡ªalso known as Breog¨¢n Capital Hall. After we pulled out of the parking lot, I accidently let it slip that I was worried about the car overheating for the three hundredth time since we¡¯d jacked it. I mean, I figured we¡¯d be okay for at least the first hour or two since the car hadn¡¯t done a whole lot of heavy driving since the night before. But shit man, you never know in a place like this!

    Unfortunately for me, this mistake led to Leroy attempting to calm me down by telling me the incredibly boring history behind the capital city. ¡°Many English speakers just refer to this place as ¡°The Capital of Casa do Dia?o¡±. But there is an actual name for it, you know. Its official name is ¡°Martelo do Carpinteiro¡±. That roughly translates to ¡°carpenter¡¯s hammer¡±; a nod to the great hero Breog¨¢n, himself.¡± I watched the rugged skyscrapers and finely-dressed people fade off into the streets behind us, which admittedly made me feel a little homesick. New York City, Martelo do Carpinteiro was not. Granted, I wasn¡¯t entirely convinced that that was a bad thing.

    ¡°Breog¨¢n, you see, is often credited for being the founder of Casa do Dia?o. His people claimed he was the son of Brath¡ªkind of like how Christians say Jesus Christ was the son of their God. And like Jesus leading his people out of Egypt during times of oppressive turmoil, Breog¨¢n was said to have founded multiple lands in order to relocate both the Gaels and the early Spaniards. As you probably guessed, Casa do Dia?o was one of them.¡±

    Christ, there¡¯s more demon infested islands hidden off in the world?

    One was bad enough, goddammit.

    ¡°Now some people say that Breog¨¢n built the capital hall, as well; hence why it¡¯s named after him. But I disagree! I personally think that he was a man of humble nature and would never gloat about his creations. After all, there aren¡¯t any islands bluntly named ¡°Breog¨¢n Island¡±, now are there? No, I think someone else built the capital hall and simply named it after him as a tribute. A sign of deep-seated respect, if you will!¡±

    I rolled my eyes behind my aviator shades.

    Before you ask, no; I didn¡¯t ask him to explain this shit to me.

    ¡°And why wouldn¡¯t anybody idolize him? Breog¨¢n led his people to new lands! He defied the very gods that forsake the Great Mother, herself! He said ¡°No! I will not give in to you fiends! I will fight until the very end¡ªpreserving the future of my sons as well as their sons!¡± And that¡¯s precisely what he did, Genghis¡ªhe preserved their future. And you know what else he preserved?¡±

    I sighed, now rubbing the temples in my forehead.

    What I wouldn¡¯t have given for a fucking cigarette.

    ¡°No, Leroy. What else did he preserve?¡± He let out a really girlish giggle while happily tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Oh yeah, this was definitely gonna be his revenge for making him wake up before eight. ¡°He preserved the future of our children! Of your children! I may not think highly of this island sometimes, but we wouldn¡¯t be here today in this land of second chances if it weren¡¯t for Breog¨¢n¡¯s unmatched bravery. I think if more people were like him, the world would be a more stable place. I mean, look at how harmonious and inclusive everybody in this city is! It¡¯s as if a little piece of Breog¨¢n¡¯s soul has implanted itself in everyone living here.¡±

    Pfft, right.

    How about the rest of the monster infested island?

    Hell, what about the open desert just a couple miles west?

    Is Breog¨¢n watching over any of that, or is he playing favorites?

    Before my thoughts could materialize into words, Leroy made a sudden left down Brath Avenue. There before us was an enormous building made of chiseled basalt. It looked kinda like a castle, but it didn¡¯t have enough towers for that look to be fully achieved. The roof had an interesting design; one that I could only really describe as having what appeared to be a Chinese pagoda split in half, a large copper clock hanging in the empty space between. Resting at the entrance was twin lightning bolt flags.

    Leroy didn¡¯t need to tell me that we¡¯d made it to Breog¨¢n Capital Hall, but he did anyway.

    ¡°Here we are, Genghis! What do you think?¡± My honest opinion? It was the second oddest looking building in Casa do Dia?o. However, this was the good type of odd. It was unique, but still aesthetically pleasing to the eye. I couldn¡¯t say the same for the number one spot, which belonged to the Hotel de Diamantes.

    But I didn¡¯t bluntly say that, of course. Instead, I whistled loudly. ¡°You ain¡¯t gonna find shit like this in the United States, that¡¯s for sure.¡± Leroy chuckled in response as he parked the car. ¡°I¡¯m gonna take that as the ¡°Genghis Signature of Approval¡±. Now, put your jacket on and take off the sunglasses.¡±

    My eyes widened as my head snapped toward him.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± I grilled him hardcore as I removed my aviators and pinned them to my shirt. ¡°You feel this weather, man? You think I¡¯m gonna wear a jacket when its a hundred fuckin¡¯ degrees outside?!¡± Leroy unclicked his seatbelt and reached into the backseat, tossing me my green bomber jacket a moment later. ¡°Yes, I do.¡± He then grabbed his jacket and slid his arms into it. ¡°We have to look somewhat decent when talking to these clerks.¡±

    I cocked an eyebrow and gestured at my outfit, which was a pair of black slacks and a Sex Pistols t-shirt. ¡°The fuck¡¯s wrong with the way I¡¯m dressed? I¡¯m goin¡¯ in there as a customer, not an employee!¡± Leroy examined my clothes and shook his head before opening his door. ¡°You look like you¡¯re ready to spray-paint the building, not negotiate terms for entering a heavily guarded military base.¡± He slowly eased himself out of the car and closed the door. ¡°Put a jacket on and let¡¯s go!¡±

    I sneered at the pompous bastard for good minute, but eventually did as I was told.

    Once we were inside the building, we were met with a colossal hall with hundreds of desks off to the sides. The clack of people¡¯s shoes echoed against the black-tiled floor. The walls, oddly enough, appeared to be made of alabaster despite the exterior being basalt. Gotta add decorative variation, I guess. Smack dab in the middle of the floor was a blood red rug leading to large double doors at the end of the hall.

    Bloody textures leading to the next level of a government facility.

    I¡¯m sure the irony wasn¡¯t intentional, but it was definitely strong here.

    ¡°Genghis,¡± Leroy whispered, nudging my shoulder, ¡°stop staring; it may draw attention to ourselves.¡± I looked at him and whispered back. ¡°Oh yeah, I¡¯m so sure two schmoes are more distractin¡¯ than the clusterfuck of desks!¡± He rolled his eyes and creeped forward, motioning for me to follow him closely so he wouldn¡¯t fall over. It was only when we started walking that I noticed numbers and letters etched on the front of each desk. From what I could tell, the desks on the left were labeled with letter codes while the right side had numbers; examples being like ¡°CBBF¡± and ¡°3226¡±, respectively.

    I could only imagine what it was like working here.

    ¡°Congratulations, you¡¯re hired! Now report to Desk ¡°ASSS¡±. Good luck finding it, rookie.¡±

    We made it halfway down the hall before we turned right, stopping by the ¡°5555¡± desk. Occupying it was some chubby white guy with a bowl haircut, typing something more than likely irrelevant on his computer. His plaid suit jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a baby blue undershirt. He looked like shit...yet I¡¯m the poorly dressed scoundrel? I slapped Leroy¡¯s arm and pointed at the guy¡¯s outfit, glaring holes through my partner in crime. ¡°Shut up, Genghis,¡± he mouthed before clearing his throat.

    Tubby McTubster turned away from his computer and looked up at Leroy. ¡°Huh? Oh. Welcome to Breog¨¢n Capital Hall. What do you want?¡± My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. ¡°Holy shit, you speak English?!¡± Leroy punched my shoulder, pushing me over a bit. ¡°Agh! Sawrry! It¡¯s just...rare!¡± Well, it was. Aside from Leroy and a handful of Louis Couture¡¯s men, the only other people I¡¯ve met on this island that spoke English was Alexander, Doctor Okafor, and that one Boston douche that I shot in a hotel somewhere in Oeste District.

    Leroy rolled his eyes and looked back at the clerk. ¡°My apologies for my friend. He¡¯s heavily sleep-deprived.¡± Porkins snorted and scratched the back of his neck. As he leaned back, I got a look at the crooked nametag clipped over his left man-breast. His name was Franklin. ¡°Whatever. What do you two stooges want?¡± Leroy scoffed, clearly sick of this guy¡¯s attitude already. However, he didn¡¯t act out his frustrations. Instead, he just shook his head quickly.

    ¡°We have business to attend to over in Leste District; a meeting with Commander Adkins of the Defensores da Illa. We¡¯re just here to get the prior approval needed before we can enter the base.¡± Franklin¡¯s face didn¡¯t change as he slowly¡ªvery fucking slowly¡ªreached down to open one of the drawers in his desk. He sluggishly shuffled through files for a good minute or two before finally pulling out two thick packets.

    ¡°Fill out the non-gray areas¡ªonly the non-gray areas; the inspector will fill the rest out. You¡¯ll also need three witness signatures as well as a signature from a licensed notary. The final signature will be provided by the inspector if you¡¯re approved. If you lose this packet before making it to the military base, another one will not be provided to you. Do you understand the conditions I have presented to you?¡±

    We both looked at each other. ¡°You say you know a notary around here, Leroy?¡± He nodded. ¡°Reverend Ziegler over at the Holy Trinity Sanctuary is licensed. He can review our case and sign if he likes what he sees.¡± I grinned, easily able to read between the lines. After all, Leroy wouldn¡¯t stupidly announce our plans to people uninvolved. He was a massive idiot at times, but not that massive. ¡°Then we understand the conditions, Frankie-Boy.¡± The clerk handed us our packets and we headed back to the car.

    ¡°So...time to go to church?¡±

    Leroy snickered as he casually grabbed onto my shoulder for support.

    ¡°Never thought I¡¯d hear you say that, but yes. Time to go to church.¡±