The Stories of Latia, Vol. 2: Demon's Curse

Chapter 3: Friday, 5:20pm

Chapter 3: Friday, 5:20pm

Robin Brooks

Hey! It's me, Robin. Again. The guy I talked about before? Yeah, he kept coming in, every Friday, 5:20pm, on the dot. Same order, same expression that was blank, but it held the story of this guy that I was just dying to know. So, today is a slow, rainy day, and it's 5:25. I just gave the guy his coffees, Teddie's gone again, but no one but me and the guy are in the diner, so I put the mop I was holding back in its bucket, and quickly slid into the booth seat adjacent to him. He glanced up from his coffee in confusion when I sat down and leaned forward, resting my tattooed forearms on the table.

"Hey... guy. I'm Robin. But you probably gathered that by now, considering I've seen you every week at 5:20pm for the past month or so. So, I've gotta ask, what's your deal?" I start, speaking a lot with my hands as I normally do.

He lets out a deep sigh. "I don't know what you're talking about, kid. I'm just a regular diner patron."

We both pause for a minute.

"Okay. If you're not going to tell me, I'm gonna tell you," I begin again with a smug smirk on my face, as he perks up a bit, seemingly interested in what I know.

"Last week, a kid, no older than me, was being mugged in a parking lot a couple streets over. He was being beaten on by three people, and he was almost killed. When a mysterious hooded figure appeared out of nowhere and saved his life. He didn't get a good look, but a witness reported 'a hooded man with a large facial scar' leaving the scene not long after," I explain, again, talking a lot with my hands which seemed to intrigue the guy.

"Where are you going with this-" he begins, but I cut him off.

"Three days ago, a woman was being kidnapped on 2nd Street. The kidnappers tied her up, and put her in a van. But she said the van never even left its parking spot. A hooded man incapacitated the kidnappers and freed the woman in a matter of seconds."

"What's the point you're making here?" He raises his voice a bit, adjusting his hood to hide his scar better.

"The point I'm making is that you're a good person. A skilled one, too. Ex-military maybe? The prism necklace hanging around your neck tells me you believe in the Leveni Faith..." I carefully deduce while looking him up and down.

"Stop it," he lightly snarls, sipping his coffee.

"Stop what?" I smirk.

"Stop reading me."

"I'll stop when you tell me who you are," I smirk, finally leaning back in my chair.

He considers for a moment, before continuing.

"Fine. My name is James. I have... abilities. I use those abilities and my combat skills to help as many people as I can," he introduces with annoyance in his voice.

"Surely you have a reason for doing it, right? No 'vigilante' wakes up and is like 'oh, yeah. Today is a good day to fight crime,'" I lightly joked, which made him smirk a bit.

"I have done... horrible things. And the way I see it, what I do is the only way to pay for those things I've done," he states in a monologue-y tone, which really just makes me more intrigued.

"What'd you do?"

"I...I killed," he sorrowfully responded.

I pause for a moment before continuing. "How many?"

He scoffs. "Why aren't you afraid of me? I mean, I just confessed to being a murderer, I show up here every week with more scars than the week before, and you're still just sitting there. Unphased."

He poses a good question.

Why aren't I scared of him?

"And to answer your question before, too many. I had a wife and daughter. I was too weak to save them so they died, too. But that was a long time ago now, I just... come here to remember her. This was her favorite little diner," tears form in his eyes as he glances in awe around the diner.

I feel like I pushed too hard.

"Sorry... I shouldn't have pried-"

"No, it's alright. I should be going now, though," he quickly says, dropping the $8 on the table, and rushing out the door much quicker then he normally would.

I didn't try to follow him this time. I just cleaned up the diner and closed up for the night.