Chapter 16

Sam

I’ve never been a fan of these group gatherings. Every single person in here is just looking at you as some form of opportunity to feed their egos. Having a good track record of accomplished work to these people is the end-all-be-all. They hold different occupations, like career choices we make back at home. I wonder how my life would’ve been if I had gone to college now that I think about it. Well, if I had the option for college. But here I am, stuck in some alternate world parallel to ours. Air thinner in certain areas; trees are twice as tall and twice as thin, the people who roam the streets range from anthropomorphic animals, giants, ghost and spirits and everything in between. I’ve grown use to these people, but that only makes me more concern. Have I really gotten use to this nightmare? Yeah, I possibly have. Although there are some of us under a rudimentary contract, a select few enjoy this new life style. No better example would be Waylon stone himself. I can see him laughing hysterically within a group just ahead of me. He suddenly breaks from the group and makes eye contact with me, that being more so my own fault. I should’ve kept my glare at a minimum; eye contact is always an opener for conversation, even with the people you really, really don’t like.

The 5 foot 5 man struts his way towards me. Even with his signature navy blue and white striped turtleneck sweater, black leggings, and gray curly hair, he definitely knows his sense of fashion. “Saaaaam!” He unnecessarily screeched. “How are you? I see you’re still sporting the, eh…casual look.” He loves to question anyone’s sense of fashion any chance he gets. The life of an accomplished artist must be tough honestly. To constantly look at life and deconstruct it to its minute detail must be exhausting. You really can’t just turn off your curiosity and imagination whenever you want.

“After a while, parties all become the same.” I responded. “No need to try and out-dress the people you barely know…let alone even care about.”

He squinted and delivered a smirk. “Hmm, you still walk around with that same attitude. That makes it really hard for people to like you Samantha.”

“Please, don’t say my full name. Plus, if people aren’t able to get past my realism, then they probably aren’t people I would want near me anyways.”

“Realism…or a high amount of insecurities?”

Son of a bitch always had a sharp tongue. Cutting deep in places he has no business in, is another talent of his. “Yeah, whatever…” I growled. “Weren’t you attacked by some deranged killer recently? How’d you managed to weasel out of that?”

“Ah yes, but evade would be a better word for it. He’s going around taking people out under our contractor. It’s very scary when you think about it. I guess this is the first time I envy you. Being behind a mirror and all doesn’t give off an easy target vibe.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’m so glad I get to be stuck back there and come out once a blue moon.” In all honesty, this is the first time I’m happy to be invulnerable to this guy. I wouldn’t know how to defend myself. Sometimes that damn mirror can be my safe haven…no, who am I kidding. No silver lining could change the fact that it’s a prison.

“Be glad,” He responded. “I’ve heard so much about him. He wears a milkman uniform and has his hat tilted so low it shrouds his eyes. The most jarring observation is his permanent smile and metal bat he proudly carries around. Sometimes blood is seen on his bleach white uniform, as if he just got done killing someone, such a scary person to think of if you think about it.”

“Where’d you get that info from?”

“Oh, none other than Tweak right here.” I turn towards Tweak as he slowly walked up to us. He looked almost shameful from how his head is tilted down away from me. “He’s been very helpful for me recently. Why, if it wasn’t for him telling me to leave my apartment, that deranged killer would’ve gotten to me. For that, I thank you.”

He stutters. “Th-thank you…but it was nothing. I really shouldn’t meddle like that with you in the first place though...” He wasn’t wrong. Other people under some form of contract are told not to get involved with others in the same circumstance. I feel like they tell us that to avoid any future mutiny. It wasn’t an idea we haven’t thought of. I mean Sebastian had some good ideas in order to topple these guys in the past, but that didn’t really turn out well. Poor Maria…I wonder if he thinks about her sometimes. “Hey, that new guy has been in that room for a good minute now. You think he’s okay?”

Malcolm looked at him in confusion. “New guy…?”

“He’s talking about Donovan.” I answered. “Mr. Writer called him in earlier.”

“Donovan…Don-…Oh, I know him! He’s a detective right? He’s a tall lean black fellow with a shiny bald head? Clean cut?”

“Um yeah, you met him before?”

“Why yes, he and Sebastian were at my apartment after that milkman tried to kill me. They questioned me quite a lot. I can’t believe I missed him.”

“He should be coming out soon enough.”

“Do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” He asked.

A voice echoed behind me. “Not likely.” I could tell it belonged to Mr. Plague. His hand grasped on my left shoulder. I could never get use to his cold touch, nor do I ever want to be. Tweak stumbled back a bit with bugged eyes. It’s strange, yet not surprising, to see him visibly be more terrified than we are. Mr. Plague’s politeness can definitely put most people at ease, but I know he’s seen enough of him to know to tread lightly. I wish I could have that level of caution. Sometimes I can have a sharp tongue like Malcolm here. I need to do better if I’m putting myself on the same level as him. “Mr. Writer and I had a lengthy discussion days before this event.”

It was obvious that they talked about what’s been happening in the city as of late. I’m not too sure if Donovan was also part of the topic, but I do know that I’m not going to ask. Mr. Plague was particular on people butting too much into his business. I’ll have to just ask around it. “Hey, how come Sebastian isn’t here?” I asked. “You went out of your way to take me out of that mirror but didn’t bother to drag him here also?”

“Oh you’re right.” Malcolm said. “I was hoping to see him here too.”

I wasn’t facing Mr. Plague, but I could tell he shifted his head down towards me. He towered over most of the guest here and subtle movements like that make me even more uneasy than usual. It either shows he’s slightly annoyed by my question or by Malcolm adding on with his unnecessary comment. “Sebastian never liked these kinds of gatherings.” He answered. “I decided to leave him be. He is getting closer to finding the pesky serial killer terrorizing neighborhoods, might I add.”

Malcolm spoke up. “Really…? You don’t think leaving him alone would put him in danger as well?” I think he knew the answer to that already. Malcolm may be a piece of shit sometimes, but even in the eyes of authority he still questions their motives. “What if this milkman found him? He is attacking all of us under you…sir.”

“It will be for the better.” He retorted.

My eyes widen. I knew to trust my gut long ago when I suspected him of getting Sebastian killed, but never in such a passive way. I don’t know how I’ll be able to catch him in time to warn him though. “Mr. Plague,” I said. “I don’t thin-…”

Suddenly, an outburst of excessive coughing came to my left. I turned and saw tweak hunched over. He covered his mouth with his hand and slowly rose with each painful hack. We all looked down to see goops of black sludge on the floor. It covered his hands as well. I didn’t know what was happening to him, nor did he. The look in his eyes screamed fear and desperation. He was looking at me for answers but I had none. Soon, his eyes turned solid black and oozed the same black sludge on the floor. His ears and mouth too were spewing it out at an alarming rate. His skin turned even paler than it already was, and began to corrode as he slumps down on his knees. The man I knew as Twea-...no, Ian had turned into a pile of hot sludge right before me. No time to mourn, no time to grieve, and no time to wonder what happened before the psycho behind me spoke up. “Oh, I see he has met with a terrible fate. I could only wonder what kind of deal Donovan made just now.”

I stepped forward and turned to him in confusion. “…Deal…?” Donovan, if you did what I think you did, you’re really stuck in this shit now.