Strange Carcosa

CHARLIE & HOSS: DAY 6

"Say," I looked around. My head was dark, empty. I scowled, nose crinkling. "Where the hell am I?"

"Still asleep," mob-Charlie smirked. I whorled to see their smug fucking face. They were smoking, smirking more, eyes aglitter with malice. "The body's weak."

I stared, stared with hatred, hand twitching for my gun.

"Shoot me," they grinned, leaning in. "Try it."

"You're not even worth a bullet," I whispered. But the words only seemed to give them power—they seemed realer somehow, more real than me. My fist trembled. I fought an ugly flash of heat. Exhaled like a bull. When I looked up again, I felt less hate.

"Not... a drop of anger."

That gave them pause. Their smirk shattered, brow raising.

"You killed Reshov," the mobster whispered back. I just smiled, mirthless, a wild gleam in my eye. "You're a fucking monster."

"Yeah," I sneered, lighting a cig. It smelled of lilies, this time—sweet, floral—and I shuddered, shoulders lowering. "Yeah, and I fucking liked it."

They just stared, face tight and cold. Reached for their gun— fired three shots in me before I could even blink. I went blind in one eye— didn't matter. Felt warmth seep through my shirt— didn't matter. I looked down, looking at the spreading poppies.

"You ruined my blouse," I snapped. "Fucking moron."

Their stare went glassy. They took a step back, gun dangling from their manicured hand. The mobster slumped into a chair.

"I loved them," they whispered.

"Don't," I sneered, taking a drag. I exhaled it slow, through my nostrils. "Because— they never loved you. That wasn't love."

"Of course it was love," mob-Charlie hissed, eyes blazing. They rose, white-knuckled where they grabbed the chair. "OF COURSE IT WAS!"

Sudden understanding gripped me. Outside—crisp, dressed fine, all in black. Inside—Great Idols, what a mess. My lips twitched—maybe a smile, maybe a frown—and I took a step forward.

"...You don't know what love is, yet," I whispered.

"Huh?!" The mobster sneered. Their eyes shone, flashing. "Fuck you on about—you gone loony for real?"

"Nah," I sat down again, smoking. Crossed my ankle over my knee, looking off. A beautiful ashtray appeared, and I tapped my cig on it. Grey crumbled off the ember.

"Nah, fact, I feel clear. Clearer than I ever been."

I stared up at the ceiling. I could see the red sky, the stars; the moon shone, a great white disc.

"The star-child go home?" I whispered, blinking tears. A smile softened my face, my eyes. They glittered with stars. "I sure hope so."

The mobster stared. Sneered.

"Yeah, you gone loony for real."

I just smirked with private mirth. I watched the smoke disappear into the cosmos.

"One day you're gonna understand," I smiled, smiled, kept fucking smiling. "Fuck, damn, Hoss was right, shit bastard."

I laughed, grinning, couldn't stop. I was going home.

"Fucker... always... yeah, if I got it in me, you sure got it too."

They just furrowed their brow. Scowled at me, smoking in silence.