Neon gravestone

Falling lost.

"Fred, wake up you ..." I heard a familiar voice from a far. My head was ringing and all I felt was the pain behind my neck.
"Fred, you nut job" He called again, this time I heard him right because his calling was accompanied by a slap on my right cheek.
"Aghh, it hurts" I groaned, his slap made my pain severe but it got me to my senses. I tried to open my eyes; Jonathan who was wearing his silly pink pajamas was staring down at me.
"Where is he?" I asked as I tried to lift myself up from the couch I found myself on. My voice was hoarse, I could not even hear myself right, I tried to be alert as much as possible, "the black man would numb me for good this time" I thought.
" Where's who buddy?" Jonathan said as he helped me up. He then gave me two blue pills and a glass of water, which only God knows when it was washed last.
"Here, these should help with the hang over" he said as he dropped the pills on my palm. I quietly took the pills and a sip of water. Jonathan stared at me and I knew what that meant. Jonathan and I had a bond where he did not have to say a thing for me to understand what he meant. We have been friend from high school, way before my father's death, and my mom's admission to the insane asylum, she's died too, a tragic death. My living standards were down the grades, I lived in the streets and slept in my uncle's couch, but Jonathan never saw himself fancy, he always had time for me. He was the one who gave me the first acting job, as a drug addict in his first ever movie, " Stench".
"Drink more water Fuh Fuh" I heard his voice in the back of my head as I finished drinking from the glass.  I tried to return the glass to the table but my hands were weak. I dropped the glass on the couch.
"Listen man, you don't have to drink yourself to death like that man, if things don't go as planned just breathe and improvise" he said, his eyes were locked on to mine. He was serious and it confused me, if only he knew my side of the story" I thought to myself again as I made efforts to pick the dirty glass up, I failed, I was in so much pain.
" Drunk? The only thing I have drunk is the water from your dirty glass, and by the way, did you send that black bozzo to deliver me home?" I asked him, I straightened my tone to make a point, I could not help but wonder all that happened to me was Jonathan's way of congratulating me for my little victory or maybe his revenge for a number of pranks I have done on him before.
"Quit your acting man, this is not the studio of a movie scene, we are at home so stop acting" He yelled at me for the first time, I had not been yelled at ever since my dad.
"You smell of vodka for the love of ghosts" he said as he pointed his right hand index finger at me to make a point of how a mess I was. 
I could sense the anger in his tone. He probably thought I was trying to act on him again as I had done many times before. I always had hard times leaving work at work, and many times it angered him as I pulled a number of pranks on him for my own good. The worst of my pranks was when I pretended to be the father of his ex-girlfriend's baby until when the cheating girl made it clear to Jonathan that it was Stan Woods', the guy me and Jona never knew existed.
"Jona, listen, I have a feeling you are not acting on me man, you best believe I am not doing the same" I turned my head around for him to see the back of my neck for him to see the marks made my the knocks I received. He moved closer to me and attempted to touch the red spot on my neck.
"Don't you dare touch me son" I snapped at him as quickly as I could, I could already feel his touch on my wound, and it hurt.
"Geez!, Hey Fred, what happened to you?" he said as he took his fingers off my neck, I could feel his eyes probing the spot, there was concern in  his tone and it made me realize that the place I was hit was even worse than I imagined.
I stared at his eyes as I recalled the events, he sat on the glass table that was strong enough to hold his weight. I searched his eyes as if I was watching the events from them. He blinked twice and I noticed he was eager to hear, something in his eyes told me I was going to be surprised. I began the telling him the tall as I locked my attention into his eyes.
"It went spectacular, the meeting with Miss. Michael, I actually think she's in-love with me" I grinned slightly as I thought of that, "It is too good to be true", I thought.
"At 1507 hours, I left her office and headed to the bus stop, and when Uncle Sam showed up, I hopped in, and walked straight to the back seat, there was this heavily built black man......" I stayed quite for a while. I was trying to remember all his features and how he was dressed, it may ring a bell into Jonathan's mind, maybe he knew him after all.
"And?" Jonathan broke the silence as he scanned my face.
"He was wearing a grey T-shirt, a black hat that failed to cover the scar from his bald head mapping to his left eye..." my eyes were staring at the empty ceiling as I tried to remember harder.
"Agghh, I am not getting more of him,.. wait!" I said as I shifted my eyes from the ceiling to Jonathan's glittering blood shot eyes, the cigarettes have already affected every part of him, it's a shame.
"He had tattoos all over his arms, weird symbols like the ancient Egyptians type of marks" I elaborated to Jonathan as I spoke.
"Well, I sat next to him as calm as I could, the nostalgia of the meeting still lingered in my mind" I could not hide my pleased expression even as I recalled the tragedy.
"He spoke to you?" Jonathan asked after his long silence. He always interrupts a story, it is inherent to his production work, always at the heart of the script. And it took him long enough today.
"No he did not" I answered him quickly, " I remember dossing off a bit, I got off at the usual place and for the sake of death that hell boy of a man pointed his gun at my back"
As my neck ache gradually retired, I told Jonathan the rest of the story, and it felt like a movie scene, "perfect mystery", "master piece" I said to myself in Jonathan's words when the scene and the script merge and takes breaths off of fans.
"I do not recall anything after he put me in the car, only the awful smell I found in the car" I finished up as I scratched my head as if to trigger the failed trip down memory lane.
"So Just please tell me how I got here, where did you find me?"
" Listen, I found you on the door step, I was coming from the studio and I found you on the door step, do you know what day is it Fred?" he asked as he lit the cigarette he produced from the pack that was always on him, even his pajamas.
I was surprised by his question." What day is it?" I asked myself, "Is he tasting my sanity or something?" my thoughts over flooded me, he noticed.
"It is the first night of September Fred, the day you had to meet Celine was the twenty fifth day of August bro, you have literally been missing for five good days, Five freaking good days bro" he said as he puffed out the smoke from his nostrils. I resisted the urge to ask for a smoke because I was quitting for good after I burnt my flat with cigar left over, I almost died in it.
"Hold, hold on a minute" I said as I tried to reach out for air, the smoke was suffocating me as well as the fact that I have  been missing for five days and I do not recall anything during that time.
"I almost reported you missing, but knowing you and your alcoholic habits, I knew you would come here as long as you have no other place to go to" He said as he squeezed the rest of the cigarette on the little mug on the table. Together with a thousand other left overs, that guy was a chimney!.
I did not know what to make of it. Although I went AWOL for five days, a five days loss was practically nothing to me because my boss was my friend. But it just did not add up.
"I knew I would be surprised" I managed to isolate this thought off of thousands more that were flooding into my mind. "Where have I been?, oh hell what did they do to me" I said it out loud, so many thoughts.
Jonathan suddenly stood up and walked over to the door, "I heard a knock" he said as he looked at the peep hole on the black door.
""Wha.. what?" I said with haltingly, I was getting hit by fear. The black man, the miserable smell in the car, the numbness and the pain, were all coming back to me.
"There is no body, I must have heard wrong" he said as he made sure the door was locked. He walked back to me. He bent over and picked the glass up, he then walked to the sink.
"Was that a dead body's smell in that car?" I muttered to myself. As much as I tried to remember what happened to me after I got hit, I hit a wall.
"Did they drug me?" I thought again. "How did I get here then?"
"Here, have something to eat buddy" Jonathan offered my plate of spaghetti. I slowly took the hot plate from his hand.
I didn't realize I was hungry until, I held the plate. I quietly ate as Jonathan smoked. And, after I was done, he took the place from my hands and took to the sink again. He came back holding a glass of juice that I kindly received and drank it all in one go. Resting the glass on the table, Jonathan looked at me as if he had thought of something.
"I have seen that look before, what on your mind?" I said as I touched my neck, the pain was gone.
"You said, the big guy asked you about Celine Michael?" He said as he stared at me.
I nodded my head, I was wondering where he was going with this.
"By any chance, maybe she's responsible for all this; we should definitely go to the police" He scratched his head as he pointed that out.
"First of all no police, and second I don't think Celine has anything to do with this" my hunch was sure Celine was nowhere close to being responsible. I had been wrong before, but this time, I felt right.
"Bro, all I am saying is we have to be open to all possibilities, do not be fooled, angels and stars are destined to fall"
"What's that supposed to mean?" I said out loud, it was one of his many pointless quotes, but they were his trade mark, his rising fame as a famous movie producer was contributed by his quotes. Rumor has it, he taught Dj Khaled how to yell and make his presence felt in every song he featured. It was all fake news, but it was good for business.
"Listen man, the police will do us much good, I know you hate them, hell nobody likes the police the same way nobody likes paying taxes, not even the president himself whom I don't think pays any taxes by the way" he knocked his left fist into his right palm as if to make a point.
"But this time, we just have to, what if they come for you here?" he added.
"Because who ever took you, they know me and definitely know this place too, and God knows what they did to you in the five days" his words hit my senses. He had a point.
"You have a point there, but man, I will only go to the police after I have burnt in hell and survived" I still was not cut out for the visit to a place where all I received from there was beating and suffering, my father died in their hands.
"But, I have a better idea, I will visit Celine Skoet tomorrow, I think she will see me even without an official appointment. And maybe I will receive get something from her" I rubbed my eye brows with my left hand.
"Is this an excuse to see her again?" I thought. "What happened to her, maybe she is in danger too,.Shit, I got to see her" I said to myself as I stared at Jonathan's weird sandals.
"I know I won't change your mind Fred, but I surely won't go with you to your Miss Celine, I have a feeling you are walking into a trap, and I sure as hell do not want to walk into it with you buddy, just keep me out of your trouble" there was a sense of sincerity in his voice and it was chilling. He was being reasonable, which means I was being unreasonable but I could not help it. I wanted to see Celine so bad because of I was kidnapped, it may be worse for her, I could not help but think she was being tortured as we spoke.
"They were after her, she needs saving" I told Jonathan who in response just shrugged his shoulders. He was out and he meant it.
"Relax buddy" I said as stood up from the couch. I suddenly felt a surge of pain running from my neck to my head. It only lasted for split second, like a blink of an eye, but excruciating.
"I wonder what they drugged me with" I said as I maintained my stance, I wanted to go to bed for good. Jonathan ignored my words as he walked closer to me.
"What's that on your shirt pocket" Jonathan asked as he extended his left hand, he took a piece of paper from my shirt. I heard
"It is a business card" He said as he explored it.
"What does it say, whose is it?"  I asked desperately.
"It reads Rich spirit" Jonathan said. He turned the card over and then over again as he searched for more words.
"Gime that card" I said hastily as I snatched the card from his soft fingers. I knew he may have been missing some words. Jonathan was known for his poor sight that he once mistook my then girlfriend for his. I was a player so it did not hurt. Only a bit.
I carefully scanned the card, I saw some engravings on it.
"It is an address" I said as I ogled deeply into the piece of paper. Jonathan rushed to the shelf was on the wall next to door, he took from it a sticky note pad and a pencil he picked from ten more which were kept a little cup
"Six seven one, old town road" I read him the words as he wrote them on the note. He stared at the note for a while. He turned to me.
"Who do you think left this?" He asked. I went silent; my mind was yet to have an idea.
He then walked to the wall opposite to the door, and stuck the note on it, which already had a little over sixty notes on it.
"The Mystery African-French man" I said as I let the card slide off my fingers, it fell slowly and rest on the thick red carpet that covered only half the sitting room.
That was all I managed to say before I fell down on the on the floor. It got darker again.
********************************************************************************************
"Mr. Skoet, can you hear me?" I heard a sound; I was only able to distinguish the sound from the rest of the noise I head because it sounded very familiar, "Celine" I thought as I tried to my body, I was in pain all over my body. I tried to say I could hear her but my throat was very dry, I managed a weak groan. My eyes were too heavy to open; I tried and only failed miserably.
"We should give him time, he will recover soon" the doctor said as he read from his note. "He is showing good progress, many like him would have died, the alcohol in his system was intoxicating, it beats the guinness record holder" he added as he shoved Jonathan.
"He claims not to have been drinking Doctor" Jonathan asked as they walked through the busy corridor that lead to the doctor's office.  A number of patients were been moved through the corridor by nurses and doctors. One caught the eye of Jonathan, a heavily built black man, with tattoos that resembles ancient Egyptians engravings. He was laid on a hospital bed with multiple bleeding sites. He resembled Fred's description of the black hell boy he'd encountered almost a week ago.
"Gun shots,? or stabs" Jonathan thought as he was caught off guard by the bloody scene.
"Is that him, his face, his face would definitely make the assurance, Fred said it was scared and one would notice it" He thought to himself as he stared at the patients face, it was covered by a breathing mask, and by blood.
"The lab results show the content in his blood was....... Hey Mr. Jonathan" the doctor tapped on Jonathan's shoulder as he noticed his attention was swept away by a caravan of death or survival.
"Yeah, sure he must have drunk himself to death, that piece of burnt cigar" Jonathan responded carelessly, only to end the conversation. He definitely knew that Fred may only have been poisoned by his kidnappers, but he was not going to disclose that to the doctors who would unquestionably require the involvement of the police, and Fred didn't want that.
"Listen, Mr.Jonathan, your friend there may have had himself mixed up on some bad religion or cult" the doctor said, his tone from shifting from elaboration to concern. He pulled up his spectacles which were periodically sagging to his nostrils.  His black hair was cut short so were his beard; he was a professional from appearance to behavior. "Havard made" Jonathan thought when he saw him first.
But the doctor's recent comment caught Jonathan off guard, as far as he was concerned, neither him nor Fred had allegiance to any religion.
"Why, why do you say that doctor" Jonathan asked as he fixed his attention to the doctors brown eyes.
"In his body, there are fresh cuts, the left thigh and the right arm, they are peculiar in nature, and so I to look in the web, they belong to a religious cult born in the ancient Egypt" He said as he showed Jonathan the pictures he had print from the web. They were disturbing images of animal sacrifices, weird alters, and the ancient marks in Egyptian tombs.
"Doctor, this is all taking me by surprise, I .." a sound from the speakers that were visible on the roof of the corridor was heard, cutting Jonathan off.
"Doctor Sinclair, you are needed in theatre room seven" the lady on the speaker repeatedly said it.
"I got to go, my beeper just alerted me, there is an emergency, see you later Mr. Jonathan" the doctor, who was Doctor Sinclair said as he patted my shoulder, he quickly rushed to the elevator which was just a meter away from where they stood.
Jonathan was left standing. His head running wild on the amount of information the doctor had just told him. Then suddenly the disturbing images of the wounded black man flashed into his mind. The fear that the black man came to end his friend's life was born into his mind. He suddenly rushed into the room Fred's hospital room, room seven. It was also not far from where he and the doctor stood to have the talk.
"Heeey, no running in here Mister" The nurse said as he bumped into her.
"Sorry" He said as he reached for the door. He opened it quick enough to propel his body inside it. And he was surprised to find the bed empty. Fred was gone. Jonathan walked closer to the bed, he saw a piece of paper, roughly written but he was able to read it.
"Do not come looking, F " he read it out loud to the nurse who was in charge of Fred; she had to rush in after her buzzer alerted her. Jonathan had pressed it as soon as he saw the note. An hour had already passed, it was mid night already.
"I have checked all the toilets and bathrooms, he is in none them" the security guard also walked in and gave his report.
"Checked the parking, no sight of him" the guard's radio made a sounds as he moved it closer to his mouth. "Keep checking lads" he made the order as he retired the radio on his waist.
"The security footage, are there any cameras in this room?" Jonathan asked, the idea just popped into his head, he felt if the mystery black man too him, the security footage will show it.
"Yes Sir, but unfortunately, they have been off line for a day for maintenance and repairs" The guard said as he scratched his bald head. He was average in height but heavily built. But his voice betrayed his athletic appearance, as it was softer than a girl's.
"What?, How is that possible?" Jonathan was getting angrier by the guard's reply. He was sure such a facility had to have strict surveillance. And by strict it meant millisecond security footages had to be maintained.
"Hey, Mr.Jonathan, before you freak out, I want you to know that when you brought the patient in last night, you were made familiar with the situation, and so were all the other people, thus by agreeing to leave your patient in our care, you agreed that security camera's though down, reasonable security was present as was satisfactory to you" The nurse Jonathan had bumped into said as she walked into the room. She was standing at the door unnoticed until she made her statement. She was dressed in a black leather coat, her blue ripped Jeans and brown tank top. She was holding a helmet.
"And who are you?" Jonathan asked as he turned to face her. He barely remembered her, although they had met twice during the last twenty four hours. The night Fred was brought in, and also an hour ago when he bumped into her.
"Lydia Michael, the lady nurse who received you last night, and the CEO of Heart beat Queen Hospital" she said as she extended her hand to Jonathan. Her introduction was bold, it sent waves of authority to Jonathan's ears.
Jonathan, barely calming his anger, reached for the cigarette pack he had in his denim coat. Ignoring the offered hand, Lydia had to take it back.
"No smoking Sir" the guard said to Jonathan before he lit up the lighter, his funny tone elevated Jonathan's temper. Smoking was the only way he would do not to freak out. He was wondering if they could cut him some slack for once. The thought of his best friend being lost, being sacrificed in some Tutankhamen tomb was scaring his bones.
"Let the man be" Lydia said as she waved the guard and the nurse out. They quickly walked out leaving the two in the room Fred once were.
He puffed out the smoke hastily into the air, the smoke moved in Brownian motion as it covered his face from sight.
"We should call the police if you think he was kidnapped, or maybe not if you think he just left to go have a few more rounds" Lydia broke the silence; she turned on the air conditioner to dilute the smoky air in the room.
Jonathan looked at her quickly before he stepped on the dead end of the cigarette. He let out a deep sigh which was accompanied by fait sights of smoke coming off his nose and mouth. He slowly sat down on the bed that was behind him. He stared at the note which he had found on the bed as if he was finding words to say from it. He shook his head sideways as he kept the paper into his coat pocket.
"No, we should not reach the police, he will be back, that idiot always does" he said it in a sad tone. He was at a loss for words at the moment.
" Mr. Jonathan, this is a very unfamiliar territory for me too, no patient has ever left the hospital in such a manner, I suggest we go the police and report him missing just in-case he is found and could be traced back to the hospital. If we do not report him missing, as a hospital we will put a stint on our brand once he is found and could be traced back to this facility" she explained to Jonathan who was blankly staring at his feet, his black Air Jordan's were a bit too old to attract the glare. He heard her right and understood her position, but he was still adamant the police were not going to get involved unless it was clear that he was they were the only last resort.
"Let's give it a day or two, once I know he is nowhere to be found, I will see it reported". He turned his gaze to Lydia. He noticed she was fairly attractive for a nurse.
"Okay, but just a day" she said, she felt it reasonable enough.
"I should get going by now" She added as he held firm her helmet.
"Duccatti?" Jonathan asked as he pointed at her helmet. She released a beautiful smile as she stared down at it too, as if she didn't know it was there.
"No Sir, I ride a bicycle, Planet SOS!" She said as she kept the smile on her face, Jonathan smiled back at her.
"The helmet is too fancy for a bike" he thought but ignored his it.
"Right" he nodded his head in approval. He stood from the bed and extended his right hand to Lydia.
"Jonathan Ayala" He said as he shook her hand gently with his soft hands.
"Lydia Michael" she smiled at him. "Here, this is my cell, just in-case you need to call in" she handed him a business card she had just produced from her tight jeans.
"Thank you" he said as he studied the card, he quickly sunk it into his coat pocket.
"Bye, Mr. Ayala" Lydia said as she left the room. He waved at her as she disappeared into the corridor. He slowly stood up from the bed, looking at it as if he was searching for a clue of what happened to Fred. He walked straight to the exit where he saw the guard nodding off.
"This bozo may have slept when Fred was being taken" he thought as he walked out the entrance. He stood outside the entrance for a while, feeling the cold night air brushing his face. He inserted a cigarette in his tight lips, he covered the lighter as he forced the air into his lungs from the cigarette, lighting it up.  Staring at his wrist watch, it was an hour past mid night, September the third.
He slowly walked down the silent street.
Behind him, in the side way parking, there was a man hidden by the dark. Watching Jonathan walk the dark sideway walk, he grinned as he took off his steel knife from its holster, his gaze was that of a predator on its pray.
"The black hell boy "