Felixentric

Scene 13

He took the silent treatment as a good time to get out of the house again. In fact, he was sure that if he left right then, Quinn wouldn't notice he'd ever gone.

When he got outside, his shaking from the argument stopped and the air felt clearer than it had all week. It was the best feeling, for once. He'd never thought he'd feel comfortable - much less happy - to be outside and alone inside the city lines. Everyone had gone to sleep. The streets were empty and the sky was dark.

He started to run. His body groaned against the cement as he shot forward, but that's what felt good about it. As he ran and felt the coolness on his skin and opened his arms out like hugging the space before him.

Turning the corner and seeing the dusty streets, weeds growing in the corners of cracked bricks, and grime dripping off the buildings, he didn't feel so free anymore. That air, once cool and refreshing, was a waste of breath. Thick and gag inducing.

But the smile grew.

There are 7.125 billion people on this earth.

The city loomed above him, palaces of buildings growing to the stars. Once he helped the humans, he would hit one with a wrecking ball. He promised himself this. It would be his reward.

Flashing yellow tape caught his eye to the side of an alley. A dark red puddle swirled in an indent of the cement, just beneath a corpse of someone. He wondered what their soul had looked like going out.

Humans. The smile faded.

Two lonely cops waddled around the place with flashlights and tired faces. He stared into the bloody heap, lying with cold and floating eyes. A human did that.

His heart dropped, slamming into the bottoms of his hollow stomach. It grumbled, but his appetite was far too lost for eating.

Who is that? Who were they?

He tried making up a story, a happy life, for them. Golden lockets on the beach. "The birds are beautiful." Shoving hands in pockets just to feel the ripping cloth inside.

He wished he could have seen the soul.

He felt he had been standing there for hours.

Doctors saved lives in the emergency room. They got money in return.

Lawyers fought for the right causes, against lunatics and freeloaders. But there was always a lawyer on the other side, defending the criminals.

The justice department was the closest thing to good. Felix looked up to the two around the scene.

The older officer looked grumpy. His eyes were dull. The younger one looked a little nicer, ready to take on what the world threw at him.

The older officer turned his head and noticed Felix standing off to the open side of the alley. Felix's skin started to boil.

"You shouldn't be around here, son."

Son. Felix didn't like that. In fact, he hated it.

"There's been danger on these streets." He made a small flick toward the body. "As you can see. And it's not too good for a brain to see this kind of stuff. Can drive people crazy. Make em' feel sad or sour. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you, kid."

Kid. It wasn't as bad as "son," but "kid" made it seem like he wasn't worth as much. It was like not being over the age of eighteen gave a person less potential to sculpt a Big Bang.

But it was nice that the man was looking out for him, doing his job really.

"Do you like your job?" Felix blurted.

"Do I like looking at dead bodies?" Both officers looked up this time, but it was still the old man speaking.

Felix couldn't manage the sarcasm. "Is that a no?"

"It's disgusting. Depressing, actually," the younger one said.

"So, you're hurting?"

"Hurting?"

Felix took a step forward, opened his hand, and really opened it. The flesh came out of itself while the bones boiled down. Green and growing. He was a real treeson, plantae seeded under his skin. Growing up and shrivelling down. "I don't want you to be depressed."

The older officer made a noise like a grumble breeded with a yelp. He pulled the gun from his belt and pointed it. This reminded Felix of the officer in the forest, though neither of these men were probably I'lloozjhen in disguise.

But Felix was faster than the gun, or rather the fingers connected to it. It seemed as though the old man was too shocked to even pull the trigger.

He took his soul. It was quiet. The man didn't scream. He just took it and his gun clattered against the pavement, leaving his body motionless. But the soul was safe and bright, and that was all that mattered.

"I thought you weren't real!" the younger officer shrieked, then pointing his own gun.

Crack. He was much different than the old man. His gun went off, but it missed.

Felix turned to run, his hand still green and huge, holding the soul inside.

Crack. Another miss. Cops weren't supposed to miss so much, were they?

It was obvious the man was chasing him, trying to be the hero.

Felix ducked into a corner, near the small alley between two buildings and next to a phone booth with a light overhead it's door. He waited next to this for the man to come turning the corner.

Crack. The officer was pulling the trigger before even seeing his target. A glass panel on the phone booth shattered. Felix flinched, but knew he would win. The fire had given the young officer away, showing that he was close. It made Felix more ready for the officer than the officer was for him.

At the very sight of the man in uniform, Felix snatched out the Fade hand, pushed him so hard into the open door of the booth, and held him there.

The gun had fallen, out of reach. And the man had no way out.

Felix was crying. "I know you didn't ask for this, but it's better this way for you. For everyone."

The man was silent.

And then the hand dropped him onto his feet and struck his face. The blood flow through the air and hung in it, like the booth were a zero gravity capsule. It was this way for all Fades. His blood came out in what looked like a rose coming out of his head. Waves to each side of his face and crashing down, but it was in slow motion.

And then the blood was sucked out of the air and into the hand, so that none of it splattered across the ground or walls of the booth. And then the soul followed, warm and comforting.