" I'm not happy Hun , I'm am not
happy. " Wiley puts out his almost finished cigar as Claire Martins enters the well furnished room.
"I know Honey" she acknowledges, moving an inch closer to him.
"But" she starts ,a glint of excitement in her eyes, " you'll be happy to know that the source of your dismay has been put to rest. That's right Honey, Michaels is out of the picture."
Wiley remains silent for a long while, not an ounce of emotion on his face. He then scrunches up his nose in disgust.
" The mention of his name is enough to make me nauseous , he did not make me happy Honey, thanks for taking care of him. You know, I fail to recall a time where I was this unhappy, please make me happy Claire Martins"
" I will do just that."
************
"Oh how I wish Dad were here" Sam mutters to himself as his eyes roam the bakery section of the newly open supermarket. After some indecisive personal conflict, he finally settles for a cornbread loaf. Feeling pleased with his decision, he smiles to himself. Just as he turns to head for the till, he bumps into a solid figure, almost knocking him to the ground. He mutters an apology after noting that the bearded muscleman is not in an apologetic mood. The man then tilts his head to his left, as if trying to carefully listen to an instruction. His eyes remain glued to Sam, making him feel slightly uncomfortable. After a brief moment , he quickly straightens his posture. A frown then forms on his face after which his eyes go wide. It doesn't take long for Sam to note that the man is wearing an earpiece and that he might charge for him any moment. He's watched enough movies to know how this exact situation pans out. The man runs with the air of an experienced athlete as he tirelessly chases Sam. Out they go through the exit and into the crowded streets.
Adrenalin, with a hint of fear, keeps Sam going as he tries to increase the gap between them. After some ducking and earning a few curses, Sam makes it back home. He quickly locks the door upon entering the house. He pants heavily as he leans against it, letting out a long sigh as his eyes go shut. He then opens them a minute later , and when they land on the cornbread loaf on his right hand , he smiles proudly.
" Dad , I'm back! " he shouts. No answer. He tries again , no answer. He then cuts himself a slice and pours himself a glass of fruit punch. He shuts his eyes in pleasure, letting the wonderful taste dance around his taste buds. He then heads to his room, but stops midway up the steps when a knock sounds on the door. He carefully tiptoes towards the door , stirring spoon in hand.
" W- who's there?" he asks , fear evident in his tone.
" Its me. "
His shoulders slump. A smile of relief adorns his face. He knows exactly who it is. The girl throws herself at him as soon as he opens the door, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. Sam has never been in such a situation before, but something tells him he should embrace her. He listens to it and awkwardly holds the girl in his arms. He waits for her to compose herself before enquiring about the source of her dismay.
"W- what is it?" he asks, awkwardly stroking her hair. The question seems to bring more tears out of her eyes.
"Its...its fine if you don't want to talk about it. How about some coffee?" he suggests while gently pulling her towards the table. He then goes into the kitchen and after a while emerges with a tray , on it is a steaming cup of coffee and two slices of cornbread.
"Welcome to Samuel's café, since we're outa bacon and stuff, you got no choice but to settle for uhm, coffee and cornbread."
Darla's lips parts into a toothy grin, which turns into a hearty laugh when Sam places the tray on the table gracefully. Her eyes roam around the room as she takes careful sips from her cup. They land on a framed picture hanging on the wall. In it is a younger Sam and a man whom she can instantly tell is his father. The young boy is grinning from ear to ear as the man holds him in his arms. They wear matching boyscout outfits. Sam's eyes are glued to the girl in front of him. He gulps as he drinks in the wonderful sight. The curly blonde hair , dark blue eyes , pointy nose and thin lips all blend into an unbelievably beautiful sight.
"You uhm , you look beautiful" Sam stutters , trying to break the awkward silence.
"Thank you" Darla smiles at him, giving him goosebumps.
**************
"As you all might have observed, we don't tolerate failure, for it is a sign of weakness." Claire Martin's high-pitched voice fills the room. The tiling on the floor is flawless, The tables, chairs and almost all the furniture are made of steel. Five frightened men stand in the very centre of the room, with Claire walking in circles around them, at times stopping to look each man straight in the eye, as if looking into his soul, if that's possible.
" If all five of you fail to end him, you shall be met with the same fate as your chubby friend. "
" What's with you and this fate crap, can't you use simple English, you Shakespeare's daughter or something? " one of the men interrupts her amidst her lengthy speech. She signals for the others to bring him forward. They do so.
"Dare repeat your words scumbag!" she challenges him.
The man stares at her with a somewhat bored expression on his angular face.
"I thought so" she says, keeping her gaze on him. The man does an eye roll, after which a swift slashing sound is heard, followed by a heavy thud as an object hits the ground, leaving the other four men horrified beyond imagination.
"Now, does anyone else have a problem with my manner of speech?"
Satisfaction and contentment wash over her when she receives no response.
*****************
"Well, a rather gruesome turn of events here as a decapitated corpse was found in the city slums, but what's most horrifying about this story is the attached note on the head which lies next to the body, scribbled on it in red ink, are the words , and I quote ' You're next Morgan f-word Blake, you....'. The event has left the citizens on edge." the blonde-haired reporter announces as Samuel switches on the telly. The two teenagers exchange frightened looks. "Oh my god! that's your dad's name....." Darla finally speaks after a brief moment of silence.
Sam is dumbfounded. His entire body freezes in place, his pupils dilate to an impossible magnitude.
"We currently do not have information as to who this Morgan Blake is, but we do know this: his life is certainly in danger." the reporter finishes off her statement, making Sam gulp in horror.
"Look, there are lot of people named Morgan Blake in this city, it could be anyone of them OK?"
Darla tries to calm him down upon realising the sudden shift in his demeanour.
"Exactly, it could be anyone of them" Sam responds after a brief moment of uncomfortable silence.
************
"Sup buddy, guess what your mom's cooking tonight" Morgan enthusiastically greets his son as he enters, closing the door behind him. Sam's mother enters a moment after. Morgan then notes that his son is not in his usual jolly mood.
"Was it the ogre again?" he asks jokingly. Sam remains silent, not an ounce of humour on his face. "D-Dad"
"Uh-huh sonny?"
"I-I have reason to believe you're in danger"
"Is that so?"
"Y-yes it is....so. In fact, it is so so , that I can't help but fear....for you"
"That's cute sonny, but i can fear for myself and right now I don't need to.."
"But dad the...."
"Don't worry about it OK ? You've had a long day , I've had a long day , hell we've all had long days, so let's all get some rest, how about that?
Morgan doesn't notice the mixture of disappointment and fear on his son's face. He gives him a gentle tap on the shoulder as he goes past him towards their bedroom. His mother gives him an apologetic shrug and a slight kiss on his left cheek, to which he lowers his eyes in disappointment.
" They never take me seriously " Sam mutters to himself as he ascends the stairs towards his bedroom.
******************************
Bare with me my readers; more drama and twists in store , keep reading commenting and voting. Your opinion is of great value to this amateur writer.
-Cheers -Mlekeleli
