Soul Moon

Invasion

Erick's mind feels like it's on some nightmarish amusement park ride that twists and flips you until you can't tell which way is up. Over the past twelve hours, he's been drugged, almost kidnapped, and saved by a handsome stranger. He could have accepted those events except now Caden's friends want to kill him because it would be a "kind mercy" from some mysterious shift thing that's going to happen.

What else could possibly go wrong?

Sure, his life sucked before meeting Caden. Every day was a challenge filled with unknown possibilities that could either improve his life or end it. But at least he was in control of what happened to him. He got to decide which path to follow, what choice to make no matter if it was right or wrong.

Now, he gets the sickening feeling that he's no longer the one pulling the strings. The moment Caden walked into the club, Erick knew his life was going to change. He thought it would be for the better. He should have known the story of his life isn't a fairytale where the handsome prince comes to his rescue and they live happily ever after. No, reality is where the prince saves you, takes you to his castle, and then kills you himself because it's the right thing to do.

His boots pound against the pavement as he races back to his apartment, back to the one place he feels safe. He runs until he can't catch his breath and sweat stings his eyes. Every block he passes, he casts another glance over his shoulder, both thankful and disappointed that no one is following him. Eventually, he leaves the prosperous part of the city and enters the shadows of the streets he's familiar with.

Back in his own territory, Erick can feel his body start to relax. These streets may not be as safe as the ones he just left behind but at least he knows who his enemies are. People here kill for money, drugs, and food. Sometimes, in the deepest cold of winter, they'll even kill for a warm place to sleep. He understands these reasons, these needs. They're primal and fundamental, not complicated or devious. No one here kills out of mercy. Here, death is a part of everyday life.

Having been alone on the streets since he was a young child, Erick has mastered the art of surviving. He has studied and learned all the tricks that will help him cheat death another day. A smile here and a compliment there diffuse dangerous situations. A fit body gives him an advantage drug addicts and drunkards don't have. Random acts of kindness help him gain friends who in turn pass along vital information to him, giving him the intel he needs to stay one step ahead of those who want to hurt him.

Of course, that doesn't mean there haven't been times when he's been forced to fight to stay alive. Fortunately, he was born with quick reflexes and an uncanny strength behind his punches which have earned him a certain amount of respect in this dog eat dog world. Between his sharp intellect, extraordinary physical abilities, honorable courage, and unending kindness, Erick has made a reputation for himself amongst the people he shares his home with.

In fact, there aren't many people on these streets who would challenge him to a fight. And those that do, soon discover they're no match for him. It's why Erick thought he could protect himself against whatever came his way.

However, that all changed last night when a stranger drugged him and nearly kidnapped him. If it hadn't been for Caden, who knows what would have happened to him. Yet, in the back of his mind, he wonders if he wouldn't have been better off with the kidnappers. They at least didn't want him dead.

He still can't understand why Caden's friends want to kill him. He's never met them. There's nothing he has they could ever want or need. Why would they want to hurt him? The longer he thinks about it, the less it makes any sense. Taking two steps at a time, he races up the stairwell to his third floor apartment, desperately trying to remember the fragments of the conversation he overheard.

However, the harder he tries to rationalize the words he heard Rev and Rook speak, the less sense everything makes. Questions swirl in his head like autumn leaves caught in a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Yet no matter how many times he replays the conversation he overheard in his mind, his heart keeps bringing him back to the one part that gives him hope.

Caden is completely against the idea of harming him. Hell, he even growled at Rev to emphasize his position on the matter. So, if Caden is so set on protecting him, there isn't anything for him to worry about and he should go back and apologize for leaving so abruptly.

Unfortunately, as soon as that spark of hope is lit, its flame is doused by droplets of doubt.

What if Rev and Rook change Caden's mind, talk him into going along with their plan?

Erick's hands begin to shake as he fumbles to get his key in the deadbolt.

What if Caden decides it is a "kind mercy" and agrees to "end it now"?

The keys slip between Erick's fingers, their metallic clatter ringing endlessly down the empty corridor.

Caden has already killed three men, what's one more?

He reaches down and picks up his keys with an angry swipe.

He wouldn't kill me, would he? He said he would do everything in his power to protect me and keep me safe. Did he lie to me just to keep me there until Rev and Rook showed up?

It takes some fiddling to get his apartment key to slide into the key cylinder and some giggling to make it turn. When the bolt finally moves, it makes a sharp sound like a gunshot and Erick nearly jumps out of his skin. He grabs the doorknob and turns it with an impatient twist.

A hundred more questions fill Erick's mind as he opens the black paint chipped door to his apartment but they vanish the moment he lays eyes on his home.

Everything is trashed. From the clothes in his dresser to his mismatched bed sheets. What little food and drink he had in the fridge is now splattered and spilled all over the kitchen walls and floor.

Nothing has been spared. Erick tries to find something, anything that isn't broken or damaged. But it's a hopeless search.

The books and magazines he's collected from kind librarians and generous store owners have been disemboweled, their pages ripped from their spines. The pictures he's drawn over the years of people he's met and places he's been have been torn from his sketchbook and now litter the floor like confetti. The VCR given to him by a man he does odd jobs for lays on the loveseat, the chef's knife from the block in the kitchen lodged in its cassette compartment. Broken glass covers the floors like raw diamonds. The dark gray blackout curtains that help him sleep after a hard night's work are torn, shredded by...scissors? Knives?

Between the two thin windows of his living room, two large symbols have been written in what Erick can only hope is red paint. Having lived in the underside of Seattle since he was fifteen, he knows all the gang symbols. So it's strange that he doesn't recognize any of these markings. But maybe that's because they're not gang markings. These, however, are different. He might be crazy but they almost look like Dwarven Runes from the Dungeons and Dragons game he plays with his friends.

Every single one of his possessions has been touched and viciously destroyed. Every inch of his safe haven, his sanctuary has been defiled and mutilated. Whoever did this, it feels personal.

The devastation in front of him is heartbreaking. He knows it's just stuff and that he should be thankful he wasn't here. But it's HIS stuff. Things he's worked hard for. Things he's scrounged for and even fought for. Things that have special meaning to him or remind him of a memorable moment in his life.

Without warning, Erick's legs give out and he crashes to his knees. But he doesn't feel the pain he knows should be there. Every breath he takes becomes more and more difficult until his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen. Objects in front of him distort as if he's looking at them through a funhouse mirror until he can't focus on anything. He hears a rapping sound similar to someone knocking on the door to his apartment but realizes right away that it's his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He lowers his head, unable to look at his ruined apartment any longer. His eyes close, the darkness more welcome than the immense gaping hole of loss laid out before him. There's a tinny ringing in his ear, deafening him to the sounds of the uncaring city outside. A straight jacket of numbness wraps itself around Erick's cold body until he no longer feels...anything.