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Night crew was always the most difficult to work. Sure, every single person on the fucking planet thought it was easier to rob someone at night, but around here? Shoot. No way was it easier. People were on their guard, watching for someone like my cohorts and me to come slinking up to their house, business, or what have you... watching with guns and knifes and other dangerous things.
"You sure we can do this one with only three people?" Sharon asked, her voice quivering with fear. Newbies. They always got scared of their first night run.
"Yeah, we got this, don't we, Spike."
"Whatever. Let's just get this stupid shit over with so I can have my share of the loot's pay."
And with that, we creeped closer to the house, not quite sure who or what would be in wait for us. How very surprising it was for us to encounter what we did... and how very unsurprising that we lost Sharon in the deal. Oh well. More money for Spike and me. We liked it that way, anyway.
Large, humming, and more than just a little bit annoying, the generators throughout the factory worked against his nerves like sandpaper against a wooden structure. "Goddamnit! Why don't you just STOP?"
Arke leaved his forehead against one of the thrumming contraptions and sighed. It only they would let him have his peace.
A single hand touched the back of his neck, causing the small man to whirl around in fear. Only to see Devon standing there, looking dashing as always in his orange prison-like jumper and wife-beater. "What do you want, Devon?"
"Wanna know why I like these generators, Arke?"
"Why?"
"Because I couldn't do this if the room was silent," he grinned, pulling the smaller man into his arms and kissing him.
Arke had to agree... they couldn't do this if there weren't generators. Suddenly, his headache was gone, and he felt better. Thank God for generators.
It was really gross seeing all those poor little kernels fall to the floor, wasted like they never were meant for more than the trashcan... but the treat I got in place of enjoying the butterness of the popcorn was more than worth it. Something I hoped would last me forever.
"Greg," he said between kisses my collarbone and chest, his body pressed agaisnt mine gently, "You're somehwere else again, aren't you?" He sounded hurt, "You never stay with me for very long..."
I pulled his face back up to mine and rested my firehead against his with a smile, "No. I'm here with you... and I always will be. I love you, Lucas."
He smiled, too, then, and kissed me. "I love you, too! I always will."
Yeah... this was way better than some silly ol' popcorn. Even if I wouldn't remember him in the morning, we had this moment. And maybe, just maybe, I would having fleeting memories of this moment for the rest of my life... and maybe I would remember him for longer than a day for the first time in years.
It was like the most epic of wins. She was curled on the floor, her feet slightly hidden by the blanket she had attempted to pull from the bed in defense. What kind of defense, I didn't know. But one thing I did know was that I had won. I had succeeded in one of the biggest ways possible. The puddle of blood spreading from her crushed skull and mangled body came close to my boots, making me take a step back from my handy-work. Wiping my knife on her curtains, I left the room with a smile on my face. She was going to be he first in a long line of superfluous people. It was what my mother would have wanted. I know it was.
Really, he needed to stop it. Over and over and over, he said those words, knowing they hurt me. Over and over and over, he rubbed it in my face that my mentor, my best friend, the man I had fallen in love with was dead. Over and over and over. I wanted him to shut up now. If he didn't... he was going to die. I clenched my fists, his taunts drilling into my brain, carving away at my patience, my serenity, everything I was taught by the man I loved. The dead man he was now laughing about. As my fist connected with his face, and his words were silenced, my world went black.
It shocked me to see the rope breaking just above my fingers. He had assured me of it's strength, it's durability, it's longevity. Looking past the swiftly shredding threads, I saw him. He was crouched on one of many jutting rocks impossible to reach without climbing as I did now; but he had no rope, nor did he have a harness. He just perched on that rock, smirking at me as my doom approached. As the final thread broke, he said one thing to me. "Should have known not to believe a man in a top hat, little boy."
They were all there, sitting in a row. Little rooms, little prisons, some padded while others were cold, hard cement. My friends and enemies sat in them at night, were released at night, and held against their will. Hard beds, lumpy pillows, thin blankets. Sometimes they gave me a jacket, but only when I misbehaved, when I hurt an orderly or got too 'out of hand'. But it was nice during the summer. The cool walls of our cells kept our minds out of our insanity, and completely in oblivion. They liked us that way, and to be honest, I liked us that way, too.
I found hattitude to be annoying, almost childish. What made him think he could ever think he could see my death coming to me? Ha! I wanted to laugh in his face for thinking he could predict my too-soon demise. That was... until I felt the blade slide cleanly through my throat, felt the searing warmth of my own blood cover me in seconds. And suddenly his prediction didn't seem so silly, so unreal; especially when I watched him wipe my blood off his knife with his shirt. Especially when I heard, as I was fading quickly, his voice whisper in my ear, "I told you so."
His eyes were different than anything I had ever seen. The black depths, like lifeless tar pools, were mesmerizing. The only thought that flitted through my head as his cold, dead fingertips brushed my face was that I could believe now. I could believe that anything was possible. And good things could come from anywhere... thank God for the zombie apocalypse. Otherwise I never could have found the love of my life.
There he was, just standing there as usual... and I couldn't help but love him. He didn't love me, but who really cared. He was my beloved, always would be. All I had to do was show him that he loved me back just as much, if not more. Until then, I was content to simply watch.
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