His roommate could be home at any minute. Back from his little jaunt to the corner store, to pick me up a pack of smoke’s and mix. Which, he was genuinely irritated to do in the first place. The potential of him finding us exposed like this, roomies balls in my fist, hatchet to the throat, the cops would be called in a matter of seconds, and our asses would be slammed into the holding cells downtown. No good way to end the night, there were good plans for that four hundred bucks in my pocket.
The chubby little man is shaking under my harsh grip. The silence is rattling. My ears anticipating the sound a key makes when it unlatches the front door, the loud click of metal, and with that,
“Don’t fucking move buddy. Don’t fucking move.”
The blade lifting slightly off the skin, leaving the pink swell along the throat. Little reminder he’d examine at after we’d gone. Run the sausage fingers over it in the mirror. The goose bumps heightening over the flesh. The shallow breathes.
“Don’t move…..” Backing up slowly, loosening my grip on the underside of his sweating belly. Plunging my knee into his groin before tearing out of the room, a break through the front door, and down the stairwell. Both of us laughing like two school kids, as if we had just played an asinine prank on our unsuspecting classmate. Or, maybe I was just happy I’d have a place to sleep tonight. It came at a high cost, and that cost wasn’t my own. Not that I really cared. Now that it was finished, the darkness hovering around my shattered psyche was silenced. The venom overshadowed by a few hundred dollar bills, and half full bottle of liquor. Safety and ignorance come in lowly disguises. The devil must have been grinning from ear to sickening ear, dripping wet with our pride, bitterness and gluttony. Bathing in the shadows of our decent, mocking us as we made a home for ourselves, in the underground place.
I guess at one point I lifted the bottle of whisky, because I could hear it clanging around in my bag. Good call Ang. Good call.
The outside air felt different than before, not so barren. Not so cold. Not so silent. Running through the back streets of the University district. One name squirreling around my mind. Tyler. Have to find Tyler. I don’t even care that he’s using me. Someone’s got to hold me tonight. Put his arms around me as I drift to sleep.
If sleep, comes.
The void draws me back in during those early quiet hours of the morning. Tearing at me with nightmares and restless dream wanderings. Demons collectively, filling my subconscious with their howling. They tell me I belong to them, dripping black poison grease. Smear. Ferocious hate.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’ve been bought by something evil.
Sealed, rotting contract of decay.