Fascinating Villains

{36} - Something Hot

I hurry to my door, watching the stranger without staring. As they drag their feet from one lit up area to another, their silhouette wavering in the darker spaces, I invade their mind. I could have detected his presence earlier, but his thoughts are too hazy and scattered to stand out in a blur of background noise. Now that I am browsing his brain, there are not many more clues as to who he is or what he wants... Even his name is uncertain.

Clark? Mark? Hark? Hart? Lart? Garth? Wart? Dart? Bart? Bark?

There are no obvious signs of violent purpose, concordantly.

The man walks faster than I anticipated, especially for an individual who reeks of pot. The sole word I can make out, thanks to him repeating it tirelessly in his psyche, is "weed".

I want to open my front door and let him be, however he is standing too close for me to risk unlocking the entryway to my home.

The lanky man begins throwing himself brutally against our freshly deceased neighbor's door. I should just try to go wait in my car or, perhaps, at Joseph and Cedric's place. I slowly step back, calmly moving towards the stairs I first used to get here. I hope he does not injure himself... Before I reach the stairs, though, the wet thudding ceases.

Over the pattering of the nighttime showers, a hoarse male voice calls out: "Hey, you, there..!?"

Luckily, he sounds unconvinced by his own attempt, not aggressive in the slightest. I turn around, because running away appears useless. It might trigger him, too. As I have predicted, he is shuffling closer to me.

"Can I help you?" I earnestly ask him.

"Uh, d'you got a, like..? Heavy thing? To get in there?" He unsteadily points at my dead neighbor's former apartment, with a gloved hand.

The only reaction I can muster is a disbelieving chuckle.

"Why?" I inquire, unable to resist.

The man simply swallows, pivoting slowly to anchor his dark gray eyes into the distance. His clothes are black or brown, too short or tight for him and drenched in rainwater. The knees of his black jeans are torn and muddy. Following the hollow crevices of his face, underneath the cover of a black hood, I notice that there is an attractive quality to his facial traits. Without the unkept stubble on his cheeks and the strands of greasy hair that seem glued to his forehead, he would be deemed handsome by North American standards.

"I dunno," he mumbles.

I desperately wish I had my cards with me, right now. He is the perfect candidate for a second chance, beautiful or not.

The mysterious man surprisingly spins around and strolls away, eventually stumbling down the staircase at the furthest end of the outdoor hallway.

I hastily enter my apartment, locking the door inhumanly fast. I am not sure what I just witnessed, but it would seem as though I managed to ascertain my own safety in an unpredictable situation. Small victory, I guess. Whoever he is, I am praying he does not die of hypothermia tonight.

~

I get up from the seat I was occupying on the bus, freeing it for an elderly citizen. I close my fist firmly around a pole, swaying forcefully with the bus' shaky movements to keep my balance. Only eighteen stops until mine, in front of the hospital.

I am exactly 28 minutes early for my day shift, therefore I head for the emergency medical technicians' break room. I find myself waiting for the elevator along with two nurses, Rebecca and Julia. I maintain a respectful distance to feign that I am definitely not listening to every word that comes out of their mouths.