5 01:04// The Floyd
~ Axel's POV: two months later~
It's been nearly two months since I've experienced I've tried to get you out of my fucking life. YOU text me every night the same thing: ' BEING WITHOUT YOU HURTS LIKE HELL'. Yeah, I get how you're gonna be a bitch about this whole situation, and maybe that's kind of a bad word to describe you. But hey, I have every right to say that.
Or do I?
" URGHH!" I clench my head, in pain, as I scream out loud. These flashbacks. They keep coming.
" I don't even know you anymore."
" Who are you to me? A nobody!"
I hear the voice, my voice, say in my head. The dark thoughts surround me, as I see myself sitting in a chair. And, not just any chair.
This chair is covered in blood, and my arms and ankles are tied to it, my whole face looking down. There's a monster above me, speaking into my mind, harassing my innocence and devouring my courage.
" I knew it, hehe!" The monster's long, purplish tongue falls unto my head, its slobber drenching me.
I see myself look up, but... I'm smiling.
A very chaotic, psycho-type of smile.
"No, no, NO! PLEASE, SOMEONE!! ANYONE!" I'm still caught in this brink of destruction of my mind, as I'm being taken over by evil itself. I have the same bloody knife that I used to slice off YOUR father's hand off of, and I lick off the blood, satisfying my hunger.
Before my mother died from suicide, she was always telling me how proud she was of me, for not becoming my father, for being a kind-hearted kid. Now, all I can think of right now is how much I've let her down.
" I'm such a... Failure," I cry to myself, as I drop the knife to the ground.
" Pami, I can't... Do it."
If you were to take a look at where I am, all you'd see are the same three photos. These photos include two men, and one woman. One of the men is crossed off with a red sharpie marker, and the other two... Well, I decide to just take off all the photos, red string connecting places on a large world map, as well as a large road map of the United States; and tear it all to pieces.
I'm going to change.
After all, if there's anything I want more, it's to be anything but a monster.
****
" Sir, is this the right place?" I ask the elderly security guard, in front of the large, rusted, wooden gate.
No response.
The guard simply nods, and then demands, " Name?"
" Axel Paul Tremblay. I was a graduate at Buck Rodingson University, top of my class." I say in monotone. Geez, they all want to know about my achievements do they? It's not like it matters.
" Please show your identification card, and smile at the camera." He says bluntly, barely smiling himself.
" Here," I say in professional manner, as I show him my identification card:
Surname: TREMBLAY
Given name: AXEL
Middle name: PAUL
Date of birth: 1994-10-31
Sex: M
Registration number: 0001083874
EXP: 11/04/2025
ISS: 04/11/22
Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue
HGT: 6'1
WGT: 180 lb
Address:
1876 Buckers Lane, 77679
Salisbury, New York City, United States
" Ah, I see." He replies, as he lifts his sunglasses to see my ID.
" Ok, now for the picture."
" What pic-?" I start to say, but then, I hear a loud snap! As I see right before me, the old man snap a candid photo of me. Great. Now I have a weird-looking photo for my ID...
" Ok? Uhh, um," I start to say, and I just realize that the security guard is bearing a small brass nametag: JAMES JULES. I continue, "Mr.Jules?"
" Yes, boy?" He answers, as he goes back to reading his magazine, depicting a sexy female model on the front of the VOGUE issue number twenty-two. A perv I see? Or, just a really nosy-about-celebrities-type of guy?
" Mr.Jules, It's Axel Tremblay. Detective Axel Tremblay."
" Oh yes, I keep forgetting your that genius from both the academy and top of your class in university. Where did you say you worked at before? Slingtow Corporation? Ain't that place a hell lotta better in serving a fine young man ya cash? Why'd you decide to join us, a smaller corporation, when you have the ability (actually I take that back, the talent) to work with those big shots?" Mr.Jules raises a thin eyebrow, curious.
Well...
I probably shouldn't say...
Oh! Bingo.
" Well, I know some fine young ladies like to apply here, wouldn't you agree sir?" I wiggle my eyebrows at him, sarcastically. He chuckles as he says, " oh boy."
" Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"
" Well..." He starts to say, and then he continues after a slight pause in his speech saying, " listen kid. I'd hate to break it to ya, but I'm afraid that Sheriff Hernandez might not accept ya. You see, he only takes the women as detectives."
" Why so?" Okay, now that's just strange. I'd assume there would be more males on the job, right??
" Well, they make better bait, that's all."
" Bait? What are you say-"
He cuts me off saying in a sudden whisper, " Haven't ya heard the news lately, boy? Many speculate that F.L.Y.N.N is a man, though no one really knows, since whoever is murderin' people in this town is always wearing a mask and a hoodie..."
" So what?"
"Huh? What'ya tryin' to say?"
" What I mean is: if there's talk of a murderer in town, why hire only female detectives? How's that gonna be very efficient. I mean to say is, I know plenty of strong-willed women out there who'd do just excellent on the job, I mean not to be prejudice. However, don't you think that it's quite unfair for those men wanting to apply? After all, we've all had to get our bachelor's in Sociology or Criminology, and especially those who take an extra two years of training... Well, don't you think that's not very fair?"
" Well... This isn't the only place ya can apply as detective."
" You're contradicting yourself." I politely address, clearly trying to indicate this is a very debatable topic at hand.
" How so?"
" This is the only place that is dedicated to studying the minds of criminals like the notorious F.L.Y.N.N, and you tell me that I'm not up for the job? How sad." I smirk, as I see the expression on his face boil up in embarrassment.
" Fine! Don't tell anyone I let you in, ya hear? Besides, I'm pretty sure they'll just place you as head archivist at most..."
" We'll see about that!"
Mr.Jules then scans my ID onto the monitor, and the gate opens.
As I start to head inside the gate, the old security guard smiles as he says," I like you kid, you're very witty with your words, I wish you all the best. And, don't tell anyone I told ya this: but they ya know why they only hire the women?"
" Why, sir?"
" It's cause F.L.Y.N.N only kills men."
*****
Shortly after the interview with Sheriff Hernandez, a stocky, short Mexican, who takes his words seriously and his interviews with a grain of salt; I'm sitting in the waiting room, for a man called Jeremy Jenkins who's supposedly 'supposed' to show me around the building.
Inside the waiting room, the tall, greyish-red stone wall leads up twenty feet above me, an extravagant crystal ball surrounded by gold, twisting it into the air, and back down a few feet and back up again, mesmerizes me. There's always been something about fancy architecture that brings me back to those times.
A small fireplace is in front of me, as I'm sitting on a blue leather lounge chair, a faux squirrel rug draped across, and topped with grey knit throw pillows. The waiting room has a sense of gothic castle meets modern chic, with its hanging candles, dimly-lit room (being that the only light source in the room is the toast fireplace), and an English antique, wooden table with swans engarved on its sides.
As I sit there, with only the silence to keep me company, and the fire to give me a sense of comfort, I hear something.
" creeaa-aakk!"
Creepy.
" Who goes there?!" I ask the noise.
" It is me." Someone replies.
And I think I know who it is.
****
" God dammit Ems you scared the crap outta me!" I scold her, clearly angry from the jump scare. Geez! This girl...
The petite raven-haired girl responds innocently, " I didn't do nothing."
I simply roll my eyes. Oh, boy. Here we go again.
" YES. YOU. DID!"
" NO. I. DIDN'T!" She giggles, as she flips her long ponytail to her back. For Esmeralda Kim, this never gets old, no matter how much we age. Geez, and it's beginning to be really, really annoying. But yet, I couldn't imagine a life without her cheery, upbeat personality.
I crack a smile, and playfully punch her arm as I say, " Haha very funny."
" Oh! We've got so much to catch up on, Axel! Soo... Tell me! Tell me!" She pries as she continues to have that look of playful mocking on her countenance.
" Well.." I start to say, but before I have a moment to utter a single word, my name is called.
*****
" Detective Tremblay!" A man announces. This man looks quite young, he could perhaps be a rookie, a newbie maybe. Then, why the heck did they put him in charge? His dark skin and frizzy afro make him stand out amidst the sudden shockingly bright, sunlight that flashes across his face.
" Ems! What the hell?!" She really just had to open the curtains.
All of them.
She giggles as she does a funny somersault. She continues to go on a hyperness-overload rampage, and then, the rookie detective flicks her right in the forehead.
Oof.
" Hey!! Weggy, why'd you do that? That hurts!!"
" It's 'cause you're so SO annoying Ms.Kim." He says nonchalantly, as I see no sense of expression on his face. He huffs and walks over to me, and hands me and introduces himself to me, in a rather blunt-and still- expressionless manner, " Hello. This is Detective Jeremy Jenkins speaking. I would like to intro-" He starts to say, and then, Ems cuts him off with a wave of her hand, saying, " blahblahblah introduction sha-boom-boom."
" You are being annoying, once more Ms-" He retorts to Ems, and is cut off by her loud voice taking over the conversation, " Bleh." Ems says, as she sticks her tongue out, sarcastically.
" Ohh Jesus Christ." I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes with a smile.
" That's enough! Ms.Kim, you are definitely coming with me, NOW." Detective Jenkins scolds her, as he drags her, (literally drags her) across the floor, and towards a room that is labeled: 'INFIRMARY'.
" Help!! Oh, kind yee people! Helllpppp!" Ems cries out, in a rather funny manner, as she blows imaginary kisses to her also imaginary audience ( I guess I'm included in this such audience??) and I wave goodbye to her and her weird antics.
At least, for now.
In all the four years that I've known Ems back when we were both just meek freshmen at Buck Rodingson University, all I've ever associated her is a sweet and playful girl, a very weird, but a loyal person. But, compared to me, what kind of friend am I to her?
Why is it that she continues, without fail- to push herself to me, smiling ever so happy every time?
I hope she doesn't know...
And won't ever know...
Or let any of my potential co-workers know...
That unlike them, I'll always just be a creep, a loner:
And a... MONSTER.
