© January 8th 2014 Mintoraty
The siren and wench. Both sitting in front of me on stools. Not facing me. Far away from my grasp. My lips are quivering. I’m freezing, but it's blazing.
Rubbing my arms I look around. The place is on fire. Half the building has been blown away. The walls that use to stand for the arch where I distributed cocaine was cut in half and burning. Looking at the smog, I gasped for air. Coughing and wheezing at each drop entering my already poisoned lungs.
Looking at the two I see them. Now changed. Eth is in a bawl on the chair. Shaking restlessly. Cray was looking desperately lost. Alone.
“LANDON!” She screamed, but it wasn’t Cray’s voice. It was Eth’s. “LANDON!" Cray's mouth moved, but Eth's voice chimed.
I stare at her until I see Eth mouth out the words, “Behind you.”
Turning I see the face I had loathed. Holding a wrench he swung it at me and hit me across my temple.
“Oof!” I tobble down and glare up at the black figure emerging.
“Mason…” Astonished I didn't die on the blow.
“Why’d you do it?” His voice was lower. Disfigured. “Why’d you do this TO MEEEE!” He lifted the wrench and swung down at my stomach. I lurched back—barely missing my groin. Gasping, I looked up—baffled at him. H-How are you alive?
“Why are you doing this? Mason!” I screamed. His eyes rolled back and his face crooked to his shoulders. Wearing his usual slouched mustard yellow, olive green trimmed sweater. But the words across it were Death Do Us Part.
The blood plastered wrench shaped itself into a pocket knife.
“I’ll have fun gutting you.” It’s not his voice. It's not him! YOU CANNOT BE THE REAL MASON!
“IT’S NOT YOU! MASON!” I screamed at him as he took a swing. Rolling into the corner, I slid up and dodged at his next swing. I rushed under his arms, but the flames were enrolling themselves throughout the criss-crossing building. Opening gashes in the smeared blood on the walls. I saw the gas leaking through to where nothing has made it close enough to ignite it yet.
One second I'll see the moment I met Dimitri. Mason swings and hits the wall, but I ducked at the off reflection of his grimy face.
“The BUILDINGS GOING TO BLOW!” I look to Cray and Eth. They’re gone. The stools have been smashed into pieces of crystal. What happened? Turning, Mason aims for my gut—misses.
Someone pushes me into the wall. Impaling my head against piping. I go down in a swing. Looking up I see who pushed me. At the end of the handle, Mason sat with tears filling his eyes. Mouth ajar with stigma. Looking at me I saw him mouth the words, “I’m sorry…”
“NYLEIGH!” I cough out blood. Spewing it everywhere. Agonizing pain, throbbing in the back of my head.
Everything slowed to the beat of her heart. I could feel and hear it pounding in the soles of my feet to the resonance off the walls and into my ears. Mason’s left hand was shaking, jerking with hesitation. Nyleigh was choking on the blood spurting from her mouth. He had done more than one stab. He'd slit right up her entire stomach. Gushing the blood out from where the child would be, she held her stomach. Eyes were wider than a fist as she looked into his eyes.
The blemish of shame struck Mason, but the affection in Nyleigh didn’t. He let go of the knife and grabbed her shoulders as she fell forward. Rocking her back and forth as he put her down. Gasping and gargling for air she looked at me. Watching the eyes roll back. She caressed Mason, but stared at me. Mason’s eyes were wild cards. He wasn’t himself. Showing the weakness, but I understand now. He picked up the knife and changed it for a pistol. Holding it against her temple. It was all a distraction to get me away. Yet, I haven’t moved. I cannot move.
