The Killing Bind

Chapter 2: The call

Cristopher Martin woke up on his wooden study table. Well, it was a study table before. He had it since he was fifteen. He never liked to throw it out. It was never his habit of throwing old things out. He liked to keep things. But in the case of this study table, it was not because of habit. It reminded him of his parents. It was the last thing they bought for him before they died. Dead. Both of them. He lost his younger brother and both of his parents on the day before his fifteenth birthday. It was a crash. Bus hits car. A classic. It's not every day that a person loses both their parents before their birthday. But that's in the past, he doesn't like to think about the past. It's too horrifying in every possible way for him.

The reason he woke up on his old study table was that he was working on a script. He has talent. A great writer. But in his case, talent wasn't enough. Luck. The one thing he didn't have. Every time he visits a director, the only things he ever heard from them were a 'hmm' and an 'I need more time, I'll think about it'. Being aspired by his skill of writing, he never gave up. Never thought 'I'm no good, I'm done with this'.

He groggily walks to the bathroom, picks his toothbrush from the mug whose handle was broken. He had previously used to drink coffee from it. He brushes, uses the toilet, and goes for the shower. much. After the shower, he combed his hair with a comb that lost two or three of its teeth, it was not because he couldn't afford it, he had other combs in the drawer.

Still in his bathrobe, he picked up his shoulder strap bag and stuffed it with the material he is working on. He doesn't like leaving his material in the house. Also, he liked to write and plan his ideas during breaks at work. He right now works as an accountant in an insurance company. He completed his education six years ago, at the age of twenty-one. But he wants to quit after he made one or two movies. He wouldn't need that job anymore.

He started to dress. He wore a white shirt and black pants with a blue tie. Standard office procedure for him. He didn't mind that he had to wear it.

He went out to his door wearing his shoulder strap bag on his right shoulder alone. There was still an hour left before he had to reach his workplace. The place he works was only nineteen minutes away from where he lives and twenty-three minutes away from the nearest Starbucks. He started to walk to the nearest Starbucks on foot. As was his habit.

He was usually one of the first five customers at Starbucks. Sometimes first, maybe third, but never sixth or seventh. The woman at the counter knew Christopher. She was always the first person to take his order. Today was no different. He went near the counter, with his bright smile. Ordered what he always ordered. An iced latte and an egg breakfast sandwich. Starbucks was almost empty currently. So, it was an easy feat to find an empty table. He sat down and picked up his iced latte with his right hand and drank a bit of it, then he reached for his sandwich and began eating.

After spending almost fifteen minutes at Starbucks, he started walking to work. He likes walking. he usually spends his free time walking when not writing.

His left pocket started to vibrate. He was receiving a call. An unknown number. He had no fraction of an idea who could it be. He picked it up anyway.

"Hello?" He said.

Then he ended it right after hearing, "Dial eight-eight-eight-nine-nine-one to get free maintenance for your house for one month free.

He again felt a vibration, this time in his right pocket. It was an unknown number. Different one. He pressed the green phone icon on his Samsung. Again.

"Hello?" He said again in the same tone as before.

The call ended, Christopher Martin walked to work knowing something big was headed his way.