Bred For Extinction

An Easy Meal

The night is hot, sticky with moisture with no calming breeze to cool ones temperature. The kind of night when just to think causes perspiration to pop out on your brow. Michael's white-collared shirt is soaked, circles of sweat radiating down from his armpits as he stands, cigarette dangling from his lips as wisps of smoke flow up from the glowing end. The alley in which he now stands runs along the hotel's side, the only entrance being the kitchen's service door. He had thought fresh air was needed to clear his mind, ponder his present situation...yet the rank smell of garbage from the dumpsters that saturates the air instead nauseates his condition even more.

He had to find a quick solution...after all it was a busy night, there were plenty to pick from, but he also knew to be careful for there were many conditions to fulfill to eliminate any future problems. It's not easy to explain when someone just disappears in your hotel. The victim would have to be alone, both in travel and at present. They would also have to be someone who would not be missed immediately by family or friends. Ah, perhaps some lonely woman that he could lure down to the cellars, but a quick glance down at his sloppy appearance told that opportunity would be harder than at first thought and the clock was ticking with little time to spare. Michael's fingers sharply flip the cigarette to the alley's gravelly surface in haste, knowing he must get started if he wanted to live. But just as grasping fingers reach for the kitchen's screen door, a crash echoes to his busied mind causing him to pause, to stare back down the alley at the very dumpsters that had sickened his stomach further than before experiencing this night's stifling atmosphere and their stench.

His eyes catch movement and he steps back to the center of the alley for a better view. The shadow that moves there, digging in the dumpster, seems not to care whether it is seen or not. "God damn bums," Michael mutters then raises his voice calling out with impatience, "hey, you...get the hell out of...." His words stop cold and eyes widen, as his mouth stays open with words hanging in a stupor. The smirk that takes birth and grows on his lips show an evil intent, and his attitude reverses knowing this was the perfect opportunity. Something was on his side tonight. Yes, this was the answer, and quickly his position changes and the con man inside steps forth.

"Wait...friend, " swift steps bounce him closer to the dumpsters and his solution. "Oh my friend, today is your lucky day...do you know that?" The bum slightly cowers backwards, eyes down to the ground. His face, barely visible under the hooded jacket, is smeared and smudged with grime that causes his hair to dangle across his vision. The long strands stuck together with the oil and grease of countless ventures into stench filled garbage, clothes reeking of wealthy half-eaten dinners.

Seeing the man's disposition, Michael's lies start to unfold, "Friend, listen...don't fear me, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to call the police or anything like that...I want to help. And do you know why?" He pauses but for an instance, knowing that words are not the vagabond's strong point. "I'll tell you why...look at this amazing building we stand next to....it's all mine...yes all mine. And do you know why it is all mine? Because once a man gave me a chance....a single chance to do something with my life....and I did all this.....and now I want to help you...give you the same chance I was given ...I want to help you do something with your life. Look what your doing my friend...this is no life for any man...eating from the garbage. But tonight your life changes...yes, I'll give you a job, help you get on your feet....who knows what your life can be like in a year, maybe two....but first you will be my guest...yes...come ...come....let us go inside so you can see what a marvelous life you can live with my help." Still, reluctance shows in the vagrant's movements, and Michael knows more words are needed. "Come on, look, I'll feed you and if after that you want to leave, fine ...go...no problems..ok" With that, the bum wipes a tattered sleeve across his mouth and follows as Michael's hand almost pats his shoulder before thinking twice and pulling his comfort back. Why have to wash more than necessary.