Ingenious

Chapter I

I know the situation is out of hand once he holds him at gunpoint.

Taking this as my cue to intervene, I slink quietly into the room, making sure the heavy soles of my uniform boots create just the right amount of noise against the hardwood floor paneling, so he can at least sense my presence as I approach him. Wouldn't want him to freak out. More so than he already has, that is.  

I stop a few feet away from him, the echoes of my footsteps fading into the silence already dominating the room, until the only sound to be heard is the conglomeration of ragged breaths and terrified whimpers coming from my immediate left. Eli Veranis stands before me. The achromatic moonlight streaming through the (recently added) tear in the curtain, illuminates his features enough for me to make out his expression. His tanned face is contorted in quiet fury, thick brows furrowed together so closely they almost morph into one. Little droplets of sweat slip and slide along the contours of his twisted face. No doubt a result of the tantrum he threw mere moments ago.

His eyes, barely visible in the dimly lit room, are clouded over. The dark blackness of his pupils almost swallowing the whites of his eyes completely. He looks possessed. Nothing like the man he was when I was assigned to help him a few weeks ago. Nothing like the man he was half an hour ago. I clear my throat faintly to try and grab his attention but, those same dark eyes never once turn to me. They remain trained intently on the unfortunate soul who incited Eli's fury. A dark purple bruise adorns the bottom of his eye with a plethora of cuts zigzagging across his face to compliment it. His mouth, moist and glistening with crimson blood, is agape, his breathing heavy.

Neither man acknowledges my presence in the slightest. The latter's frightened gaze never once leaving the weapon of cold hard steel pressed between his eyes.

"Eli," I call to him, voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing?"

It's a stupid question, I know, but according to what I've been taught, that's the best way to handle situations like this.

He ignores my question. The hand that's not clasping the 42 Caliber pistol, clenching around the fistful of shirt belonging to the other man.

I take a deep breath to strengthen my resolve, as well as a step forward. I cringe slightly when my booted foot comes in contact with the broken glass that had once been part of an elegant coffee table, but I keep my eyes firmly on the men before me.

"Eli." I say with a lot more authority.

"What?"comes his reply, laced with venom, his gaze still unmoving.

"What are you doing?" I say again, this time enunciating every word. His jaw tightens and one of his already bulging veins, twitches irritably after my sentence. I gulp discreetly, but continue anyway. "Don't do this. You know you don't want to do things like this anymore. You told me so yourself, remember?"

"You heard what he said to me."

I blink a couple of times in surprise. I wasn't expecting him to actually answer.

"I did hear and I agree that what he said was horrible." At this the other man whimpers mildly, almost apologetically. "But that's just it. Sometimes people are horrible, but we don't let what they say get to us this way. We count to ten instead. Or think about other things that make us happy. Or we—"

"I know that!" he snaps suddenly. He's looking at me now, and I see the crazed look in his eye anew, from a more intense angle this time."But I'm tired of counting and thinking. Just lemme do this. Just this once. It's not real, it won't matter, anyway." He sounds frustrated, desperate.