I slammed the glass on the bartender's table, a burning sensation drizzling down my throat like liquid fire as I grit my teeth and shook my hand.
"Hit me again," I said to him.
"Dude, its not my place to say this, but I feel its for your own good. Go home. Drowning your sorrows through the bottle only works when you don't end up dead. You've had too much," the bartender said. He was a young man, around his mid twenties, with a mohawk and deep set, brown eyes, albeit looking like the nerdiest nerd I had ever seen.
I could see the concern in his eyes, which was rare as he was sure to have seen dozens of heavy drinkers come and go, however I could understand his sentiment. I kept ordering shot after shot until even the renown local champions eyed me suspiciously.
"Please. One more," I said.
"Your funeral," he said, grabbing my glass and filling it with the almost empty bottle he held that held the label; Hit Me Again. 75%. You can imagine just how much it fries the insides.
For tonight, just like any other night, I didn't care. Life, hope, money and especially love. I had deluded myself into thinking what I had would last forever. That being special and running 'errands' meant the world owed me one. I was wrong.
Despite literally drowning myself in an ocean of alcohol, I couldn't rip out the pain from just a few hours ago. I've gouged out an Amphilias' friggin' heart out with my bare hands, been imprisoned in a Pseudo Hell, murdered my way out of an Interdimensional Asylum but none of those left me with a such a torrent of emotion as devastating as this.
One human girl, with waist length straight red hair, with the most dazzling smile in the world, big almond apple green eyes, a high nose, light freckles on her face with cheek bones that look like little sugar plums when she smiles.
Her love for romantic movies, cheesy sitcoms, buttered popcorn, sitting in front of me between my legs as we gaze at the sunset at the beach, remnants of the waves washing our bare feet as we embrace and tell each other that some day we'll build a cabin ashore to have a never ending view of the magnificent artpiece that is the hazy sunset horizon atop the still waters.
I still remember how she liked to run her fingers on my arm, feeling its tense, hard muscles and washing away my fatigue. Her kiss was almost ethereal, but sweet and refreshing to my soul, her breath like a reprieve from my hellish gutter life into a tranquil prairie.
Now she was gone.
In the rain she had called me to meet her at her bus stop, holding her black umbrella, donning her dark blue jeans, pink crop and an unfamiliar jersey. The look in her eye startled me. My heart had beat so fast that I could have sworn it was about to dip.
Our relationship had started to fall off the rails when my contractors started extending their task durations and cutting my remuneration, with the excuse of having new and better players, and my skills becoming obsolete.
I had to work harder, the competition part was real, but my blades never dull when I'm on task.
Nevertheless, it had gotten harder. I barely had the time to talk to her. Day after day arriving home only to slump on the bed or floor, whichever didn't have a mountain of trash.
Making it up to her with dinner or gifts didn't work. She said she only wanted my company, which I couldn't give most of the time, and made worse by my inability to disclose my work and my true self.
I'd say 7 months of having a dodgy boyfriend whose occupation you know nothing about, coupled with the look in my eyes that I always accidentally brought from murder sprees and into her rosy world, finally broke her patience.
She looked at me in the eye, unafraid, certain and in pain.
"I can't do this anymore. I could handle not knowing what you do whenever you can't be reached by phone or not at your house for days when I got to have to myself for at least a full day.
But this… its like you never met me. Like we never shared 3 years of our lives. I gave you everything of mine, there's nothing about me you don't know, no one that's a part of my life you haven't interacted with. But I feel like I'm the only one giving it my all here.
I gave you countless chances, pretended to smile for you, thinking you were having a hard time, tried to reach out… but…here we are. It was all for nothing. I asked for closure but you denied me even that. Was it a young, stupid girl's dream to believe she had found love?"
I could barely master a reply when I saw a tear run down her cheek and she quickly wiped it off with her sleeve. I could only gently hold her arm as If she was going to vanish in front of me.
"It wasn't. I.."
"One chance. Look me in the eye and tell me the truth. What happened? If its pain that's burdening you, then share it with me! For the love of… Argh you did the same for me when my dad died, when I was broken and thought I would never heal. Let me do the same if that's the case, what is it?"
I opened my mouth to speak instinctively, to save my relationship, but the Creed I vowed to, plastered on my chest, burned my insides. I still persevered and tried to spill everything. Years of gore, murder, blood money, monsters, all appointed by sh*tty fate. Alas, no sound came out. I could only grit my teeth as I watched her previously expectant gaze, grow dim and indifferent.
She took a deep breath. Shed no tear and with a broken voice said two words that would haunt my dreams for the next century, before walking away and leaving me to be washed in the rain.
"Goodbye, David."
I remained glued to the spot, my trained ears recognizing the very rhythm of her footsteps as those of deep pain.
Then here I was, sitting on a stool in New Scott's second famous bar, wallowing in my own sh*tty mind.
It was almost midnight, so I decided to call it a day and go berate someone or something to get my mind off this. Perhaps I could even sleep tonight afterwards.
"Cool tattoo," a brunette cleaning one of the tables, wearing a skimpy black skirt, purple sleeveless blouse and knee high black boots said glancing at my neck before winking at me.
Hearing people call it a tattoo would have ticked me off any other day but I simply ignored her, already disgusted by the notion of having a one night stand after my break up.
It was a dark marking, etched into my soul, with only a tattoo like black imitation showing on my skin. A cursed mark that appeared when I was 18 years old.
The Molifius.
As long as I have it, I won't age. I always attract malignant entities and have the ability to absorb them and their abilities at the cost of portions of my soul. Its more of a transaction.
Given the nature of my distinct abilities, I'm able to find work. Shady work, for money. Though it barely amounts to much when I'm treated like a kid among veterans. Granted, I am a kid.
I exited the bar and walked down the road. The image of hoodlums in the corners eyeing those with thick pockets, emitting a dark hostility, couples linking arms as they went home, some emitting a red lustful glow and the homeless sitting on public benches, exuding a gray mist of death did not escape my sight. My enhanced sight, drawn from a crimson, 4 meter tall cyclops that calls himself, All-Seer. Or called himself.
I have 3 abilities in total so far. This being one of them.
The cold pavement resounded my clear steps as I walked down the road in a casual black shirt, brown skinny jeans and high cut leather shoes.
On my side was the highway, on the other, stores of different varieties, most closed for the day, neon lights flickering on some of them, brightening the street.
I walked a great deal, feeling hollow and alone till I arrived home.
My cramped apartment on the outskirts of town, managed by a plump piece of sh*t, that called herself Madeline, welcome me with its gloomy and dull distant visage.I thanked the spirits that I got to my room without an earful of her relentless lectures, opening the door to reveal a cramped room, with barely two rooms. A bedroom more akin to a small pantry, a single bed with a few ruffled blankets, tomes strewn across the room and briefs, shirts and leftovers.
The other room was of similar size, a chair and a table visible from where I stood, worn out rust colored wallpaper vividly vivid from the lights, which were the only constant it terms of function.
I plunged myself into the bed, letting my short black hair spill on the blankets. I had given up of finding a scuffle for the night. Just resting my mind may be enough to push it to sleep. Maybe.
A glowing red circle materialized on the floor next to me pushing away all the contents around it. From it a silhouette appeared, floating above it, with a red hazy figure, featureless and slim but obvious glaring at me.
"What is it now??" I asked, without even looking.
"Great job. Drawing an irritatingly obvious route to your own residence and endangering every single person in this building. You're compromised. More than that you're surrounded actually. Get your a*s to safety right now or you'll spend eternity dining with every monster you've ever killed, in addition to reliving the moment you were dumbed by your first girlfriend over and over again," a stern gentlemanly voice came out of the hazy figure.
I scrambled off the bed and rushed to the window only to notice a literal nightmare waiting for me outside.
'Just my luck.'
