Enigma Stigma (ONC 2023 Entry)

5.

Even though this destination hadn't looked that large from the bus, Constance began to get used to that reality after having walked for a half hour down unfamiliar streets. The further she walked, the more congested things began to feel. The scent of chimney smoke seemed to pervade the air as she walked. The semi-cold air seemed to keep the smoke down lower to the ground so that it filled the street with a haze despite it being morning.

With her feet aching, Constance decided to take a break near the end of the street. She leaned her back up against the brick wall as her eyes turned to look down at the locket that was still grasped in her hand. She had fiddled with it a couple of times as she walked but had still not been able to pop it open yet.

"I will get you open," she said out loud to herself. "You have to have some sort of answer to his identity for me."

As Constance began to fiddle with the locket again, she was unaware of a man coming her way from a nearby alley. The grungily dressed man had a holey navy blue paperboy's cap on his head; his beady eyes narrowing in on her messenger bag. He subconsciously itched at his needle-pricked arm as his eyes gleamed at the thought of what valuables her bag could hold. Constance was still so engrossed on fiddling with the locket that she didn't notice the man standing alongside her until she felt the messenger bag being forcefully tugged off her arm. The forceful tug caused her to rock sideways, nearly falling onto the ground.

"HEY!" she shouted out as the man turned to disappear back down the alleyway he had come out of.

Even though Constance didn't have any valuables in her messenger bag, her latest writing project was tucked away in there. To her, that was valuable. She couldn't let years of hard work disappear down the alley. Without running through how risky it was, she tore off after the man who - despite the state he was in - seemed to be able to stay a step or two ahead of her.

"GET BACK HERE! GIVE THAT BACK!" she shouted after him as she ran, nearly slipping in a puddle of unidentifiable sludge as she rounded a corner.

It was only after she rounded the corner that Constance realized she had reached a dead end. The man that she had been chasing after was stopped near a graffitied brick wall a few feet in front of her. At the base of the brick wall was a makeshift tent that had been crudely constructed. The man was currently hunched forward and digging through the tent for something.

"Look, all I want is my messenger bag back. There's nothing valuable in it, I swear."

The man didn't make any move to acknowledge that she was speaking. Instead he continued rooting through his tent for a moment or two more before remerging. As he turned to face her, she noticed the knife in his hand and gulped.

'You're an idiot, Constance,' she internally chided herself as the man pointed the blade her way as she slowly stuck her arms up into the air.

"Look, all I want is my writing back. I'll...I'll pay you for it..."

She moved to bring one hand slowly down, slipping it into her pocket. She didn't have much money there. It was probably just enough to get back home. The man found this movement threatening, pointing the knife at her as he took a step or two forward.

Constance's face paled when she noticed him slowly closing the gap between them. She didn't want to think she was about to face death in some sort of alley like a character in a horror movie. As she screwed her eyes shut out of fear, she was once again unaware of someone coming up behind her until the sound of someone struggling to breathe reached her ears. Opening her eyes, they only widened upon seeing her mysterious stranger standing in front of her. One of his hands had worked its way around the man's throat, pinning him to the wall. He even managed to hold the man a few feet off the ground by his neck. The man was grasping at her mysterious man's hand, kicking out his feet in the air as he stammered on about a vengeful ghost haunting her.