19 May 2012
So there I was, standing halfway up the stairs, still damp from the night, with my snub nose tucked into my waistband. Upstairs, darkness, not a sound. And him. Behind me, well, what a bunch of assholes. I stole a quick glance behind, what for, I'll never know. I wasn't really surprised to see no-one there. He'd pulled far better tricks than that before. As I turned my head to look back up, suddenly a voice came from the darkness above me. "Won't be needing them any more...brother." A bit of blackness crept into me when I heard him, but I shook it off and continued up the stairs. Three steps later I arrived on the floor where he was, and it was pitch black. I stood still, instinctively reaching behind just to make sure the gun was still there. It was. "What are you doing here?" came his voice, followed almost instantly by the snap of a light switch. Well done. Hats off. Even with his repertoire, he still managed the greatest tricks with the simplest of methods. When I'd finished blinking I could see the room. There was just a table, nothing else. A single doorway, and it was from here that his voice was coming from. And then he came out and stood in the light. He looked different. Hair trimmed, suit and shirt and smart shoes. He threw me a pack of smokes. As I greedily took one out and lit it, he chuckled to himself. "Somethings just don't change, do they?" he said. I sucked heavily on the cigarette. Exhaling, I replied "Well some things do. When the hell did you start all this?" "What, the clubs? Well, you know, thought I'd..." "That's not what I mean. I mean the drugs, the whores, murders, political killings, god knows what else. It's why I came. " He looked at me with a slow grin and said, "Well I got bored. Got fed up back home do I thought I'd come here. And when I did, I seized the opportunities that seemed to present themselves. " He approached the table with his arms outstretched and walking in the cocky way an experienced salesman would, as if he had an offer. He did. "I always thought you'd join me, brother. " "I'm not your brother. Not any more. And I haven't come to fight. I've come to end it. " "Ah, but you are my brother. And I'm no angel..." "Yes, you are..." At that moment I whipped the gun round, and with it sitting nicely in my hand, outstretched my arm across the table and pointed it at his face. Only to find he'd done exactly the same. It was as if there was a mirror there. I could never work out how he did it. Asshole. We stood in silence, both ready to either attack or defend. Nothing needed saying. It had all boiled down to this, just us two, facing off in a shitty club's dusty back room. Staring intently at each other, both motionless. And then suddenly, why, how I don't know, we both fired. I kind of knew it was coming and had just managed to move my head enough so his bullet grazed instead of penetrating. But it was enough to hurt, make me bleed quite badly, and throw me to the floor. And as I was on my way down, I knew my bullet had hit it's mark. This was confirmed by the sight of a few feathers, kind of an off white in colour, floating gently down to the wooden floor on the other side of the table. He was nowhere to be seen. Shit. Wasn't quite supposed to go this way. The pain in my head was really quite bad, I thought, just before it all went dark again. Hours, days, maybe weeks later, I didn't know, I opened my eyes. I was still on the floor, in the dust. This wasn't getting me anywhere. I stood up and dusted myself down. Well, he'd done it again. No matter. I'll never stop. Any cigarettes? Yes, there was the box on the floor. I picked it up, retrieved a cigarette and lit it up. At the same time, I undid my shirt and took it off. Breathing in the smoke, I could see and feel the black leather band around my chest. Two more drags on the cigarette, then I took off the band and allowed my wings to expand. Flexed them a few times. Man that felt good. But for now, time to go home. Wings folded, I put my shirt back on and tidied myself up. Damn. He was still out there, somewhere. He could wait. For now...
End.
3. • Opuss № I