Wrestling the Kraken

Bridgett

Bridgett

Bridgett walked up to Vito's restaurant. They weren't opened yet, but Vito had told her to knock and someone would open it for her. When she did, a large man stood there staring down at her.

"You're the one?" He asked, unimpressed.

"I have the money. Does it matter what I look like?" She answered in her French accent.

He grunted, then stood aside to let her in.

She followed him to the back of the kitchen, where Vito was sitting inside a closet. On second look, it was actually an office. It wasn't a fancy place, but even back here she could sense a homey vibe exhumed from the walls. Each revival of the sense of home and good food had Vito's touch all over it. She respected that.

The big guy stood aside taking a place against the wall. Vito rose from the desk and stepped closer to Francine. "I see you met my brother Tony. Everyone calls him Uncle Tony, anyway the boys all checked in and they are accounted for. I hoped that showed your employer that we can handle these types of jobs."

"You did good, Vito. There's more than what we agreed to here." She handed him a white letter envelope.

"Hey, thanks. That wasn't necessary, but it's much appreciated." He said not looking inside.

She smiled. "Until our next arrangement."

He nodded and she walked herself out of the restaurant.

♦

When Bridgett had gone, Tony came up beside Vito. "Why do you grovel for her? She's only the messenger, for someone you haven't even met by the way."

"She's no messenger." A sly smile crossed Vito's face. "She may not know it yet, but I have plans for someone like her."

♦

The obstacle was taken care of. Vito had his money. Bridgett was finally done, at least for now. She headed upstairs to her apartment, only... she didn't want to. Pausing halfway up, she dreaded the claustrophobia that her room offered. The memories weighed on her. The sounds that no amount of earplugs could hide. The filth that stained her soul.

She could almost see her fingers turning black and feel her eyes and heart do the same, dripping down staining the carpet beneath her feet.

Each time she removed an obstacle for Dante, she placed herself in front of the Kraken. Each time was a struggle between her and the beast- a never ending battle that pauses and starts up again whenever they meet, leaving her covered in bleeding ink.

Strangely enough, within the chaos, the madness that terrorized her, she felt the most sane. It was this reality she struggled the most with. Her stomach fluttered with the dread of not wanting to go into her apartment- to be a caged animal- but also having no place else to go.

Focusing on her hand on the rail, she let go, and somewhere deep inside some invisible cords were being broken. She could sense a letting go of so much more. She turned and headed back down the stairs and out of the building.

Leaving her black wig in an alley dumpster, she looked out at the busy street. Where would she go? She felt dizzy trying to decide. The voices laughed deep inside. Not in her mind, but attempting to find her soul! The laugh echoed from her core. She looked to her left. That direction was Dante and the circus. She looked to her right. That direction was abandoned buildings and the ocean. Seemed as good a place as any and the idea of the ocean, of water, brought some relief.