"What made you want to live this kind of life?"
"Police are still investigating the disappearance of local journalist,"
I just caught a glimpse of the newscaster's lime green blazer before she disappeared off the screen, the end of her sentence being replaced by the spokesperson for plenty towels. I stood in the kitchen, grabbing drinks as Harry flipped through the channels. I took some painkillers before returning back to the living room, handing Harry his glass. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes from under a plate on the coffee table, venturing out onto the balcony overlooking the desolate city. The lighter sat on the small metal table, I grabbed it, lighting the first of many cigarettes.
I couldn't get her out of my mind. The smile plastered on her face was etched into my brain, her laugh resonating in my ears. During school we were inseparable, she stuck with me through thick and thin. She rescued me from my home, she was my savior. Yet, years later she was my abuser. What a great addition to my story. I took another drag of my cigarette, watching the smoke drift through the air. The more I thought about her the more weight was placed on my chest. Marah was dead. She was dead because of me. And there was nothing I could do about it.
"Babe."
Harry appeared at my side. I rubbed my eyes with my hand, confused when they were damp. I quickly wiped my eyes again with my jumper sleeve. How did I not realize I was crying?
"Babe, hand me the lighter."
He repeated, bringing me back into reality. I placed the lighter in his hand, watching as the cars drove by on the street beneath us. The smoke from our cigarettes swirled through the air, reminding me of a pathetic forgery of a starry night. As the two of us inhaled nicotine in silence, the sun began to set, leaving us beneath the starlit sky.
"Hello? No.. Right now? What could be so- Alright, alright I'll be there soon."
Harry spoke into his phone, standing from his chair and wandering back into the house. He didn't speak another word. I sat on the balcony alone, listening as Harry stumbled around the house, letting the door shut behind him as he left. I lit another cigarette, hoping to suffocate my thoughts with the smoke.
***
- Harry -
"How's everything going, Niko?"
Liam folded his hands together in front of him on our fold out table. The five of us ,and Niko, sat in the dimly lit warehouse. The table was set in the middle of the concrete floor as a light panel hung down from the ceiling. Niko fidgeted as he sat on the opposite side of the table as us.
"Good."
Niko squeaked, running his hand through his hair. His nervousness was obvious and we liked that.
"Refresh my memory, you do what for us?"
Liam asked with a cold smile.
"I deliver the product to the warehouse"
He replied within seconds. We had at least twenty men on delivery to our different warehouses, I didn't bother to remember any names. Warehouse deliverers were expendable, if we lost one we could find one right away.
"Ahh, that's right."
Liam mumbled, turning to look at me with a smirk.
"Yes sir."
Niko shifted in his white foldable chair, his stringy hair covered his forehead and parts of his eyes.
"Do you know who we are, Niko?"
I questioned eager to get this 'meeting' over with.
"The..reges."
He said with uncertainty lacing his voice.
"Do you know what that means?"
I leaned across the table, smirking as Niko trembled in fear.
"No, I don't"
He stammered, he would not meet my gaze. His small, beady eyes instead stared down at the table, focusing in on the small bloodstain inches from where he rested his hand.
"It means kings. We are the kings of this city don't you think?"
Niall tapped his fingers on the table as I finished up the conversation. Watching the gangly man fidget was entertaining, but it was starting to get old.
"Yes."
Niko nodded repeatedly, starting to look as if he was having a seizure.
"Kings don't take well to liars and snitches, Niko."
Zayn piped up, slamming his fist down on the table.
"I don't understand-"
He whimpered, his body went tense and he looked as if he turned into stone.
"Do you know where snitches end up?"
Zayn questioned with a smirk.
"Please,I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't-"
He begged, his eyes wide in horror.
"He asked you a simple question. Do you know where snitches end up?"
Liam stop him from blubbering on anymore.
"D-ditches."
Niko whispered.
"I'm sorry I didn't hear you?"
Zayn smirked, pulling his gun from his holster.
"Ditches."
He stated just as the trigger of Zayn's gun clicked. Niko's gangling body became limp as we all stood from the table. Two men appeared from the darkness, one carrying a mop and bucket while the other pushed a wheel barrow. The five of us left through the front door, hearing the hushed curses of the men as they struggled to move the body.
Snitches didn't really end up in ditches. Ditches were easily spotted which meant bodies could be found. Snitches instead ended up in crematories, their ashes mixed in with your neighbors dead grandmother or beloved family pet. Cremation is a great alternative for burial, as long as you don't mind sharing an urn with that shady man you avoided outside the coffee shop.
"But even still I can't say much
Because I know we're all the same
Oh yes we all seek out to satisfy those thrills"
-
if you haven't named a character who you're going to kill off after someone you dislike, you haven't lived.
