Claw and Heart

6.

The last rays of dusk showered upon the streets of Vancouver once again. Shadows slowly began to creep onto streets, buildings and people. By adding a layer of dark shade and a shade gloomier to those who are already. Each step became more difficult for Angeline as if gravity threatened to trip him at any moment. The alcohol swung in his stomach like a pendulum of an old clock, painful and never ending. Finally exhausted from the pain, he leaned back against the alley, feeling tired from body to soul. There's nothing I can do, it's all over. He thought. He felt like crying, but there was just this hole of emptiness inside him; A hole that took away his hope, his joy, even his tears...the calming began to kick in, voices spun in his head like a 'Merry go around'. The world was vibrating for Angeline, as if each and every particle had free will to jump out of their cell and run around like criminals on the loose. Then the world began to spin, as if gravity choose to quit its job and screw everyone else in the world over. Then the headache kicked in, it was like a growing tumor, within moments it grew so large, he felt was going to explode from the pure size. Then out of instinct, he faced the nearest trash can and emptied out his stomach. He repeated the process several more times, until there was nothing to empty in his stomach. Slowly he turned away from the trash can and slumped to the ground from exhaustion and dizziness. Then out from the dim light, he saw a trio of figures approaching him, all 3 can be stereotyped as the typical street Junkies that are up to no good. They said something to amongst themselves, then one of them walked up to him bent down and said something; Angeline didn't catch a single word, nor did he bother to. Whatever they are going to do to me, I am already done...he closed his eyes, leaving fate with absolute control over his life.

***

70km/h...80km/h...90km/h...Mr. Di looked at his speedometer. He was 40km/h over the speed limit but he couldn't care less. He was driving a silver Lamborghini, that was easily worth a million dollars; and several times he almost ran into other cars, which he didn't even blink an eye towards in response. It wasn't the rush of adrenaline he was looking for; it was just his way of releasing his stress. He was furious, he was angry, he was tempered. But there was not a single drop of sweat, all the turning of the wheel, the timing of the gas was all coordinated and controlled better than the average driver on their best day. But something inside Mr. Di just nagged at him, it was just this shock. This wasn't part of his plan, now his entire business was going to be jeopardized, all because of one man's death, and he still had no idea who was behind all this. The more he thought, the more frustrated he grew. Then out of completely rage, he hulled to a complete stop by the road and climbed out of the car. Sighed, and took out a pack of cigarettes, took one out, lit it, and scanned his surroundings for a moment. It was the typical downtown eastside kind of neighborhood, grey shady buildings, and people pushing carts, lying on streets, huddling in corners...none of this stuff was new to him, he seems images of this place on the web and has been warned many times by the director of Vancouver ministry of health about the current state of the area, and never come here unless you have to. The smell, the odd looks, none of these things bothered him. Soon he became blended in as part of the background, dull and uninteresting. After finishing his cigarette, he let it drop to the ground, then ground it with the heel of his shoe. He began to turn around then paused as he caught a glimpse of something from the reflection of the mirror. And that moment he forgot everything else; and stared straight at the scene. Impossible...he muttered. The sight was like seeing a diamond lying in amidst of a mountain heap of coal, a beautiful flower in a wasteland. It made him wanted to protect it, without thinking about further consequences, he began walking towards her, then his walk broke into a jog. By the time he got there for a closer look, the first thing he knew was that he underestimated her. He found himself utterly speechless. But after looking around and analyzing the situation; she, perhaps the most beautiful women he meet in his life and a trio of local Junkies that meant her no good without thinking, he grabbed the extended hand of one of the Junkies, pulled him towards his body and rammed his elbow at the Junkie's face with full force. The first Junkie fell to the ground, dazed by the impact. The other two Junkies looked at each other for a moment, then one of them pulled out a knife; another one smashed the bottle in his hand and came charging at him right afterwards. Without batting an eye, Mr. Di raised his feet and caught the charging one straight in the stomach, knocking him straight back into wall and didn't get up again. The last Junkie made a desperate charge, like a dying animal making a break from the hunters set up; Mr. Di side stepped and put a foot forward just in time, causing the last Junkie to trip and fall. The last Junkie scrambled away like a rat, which he had no intention of going after. Instead he simply just snorted and turned his attention back to what he came for in the first place. She smelled of alcohol and vomit, yet still manage to look like god's little angel; ever so peaceful when asleep. He felt slightly disappointed, but this is what he came for in the first place and he didn't exactly trust the streets around here. In the end he decided, she has to be safe at least, and the only place he could think of, was his place.