Infiltrating Harmony Part 5

Strangely, the three jacked vocations looked both ways before crossing the street to deliver my inevitable doom. I admired their dedication to put safety first.

I took off down the sidewalk, my fish tie flapping in the wind. I only looked back once, to see them dodging cars in order to catch up to me.

The fact was, when it came to running, my lean, tall body type would beat there's any day. But if they caught me, I would be no match for their huge, metallic bodies, and I would be undoubtedly squished like a bug.

I ran as fast as I could past people, whose heads slowly turned to give me a quick confused look before I zoomed past them. Suddenly, behind me I started to hear the heavy, fast metallic footsteps that I recognized from my recent Bounty Officer days as a vocation running.

They were close behind me.

I turned onto another street, and started to pick up the pace. Under any other circumstance, I would be passed out from exhaustion by now. But because of survival instincts, I was still sprinting. Funny how that works.

I decided that my best bet was to find a nearby alleyway, and double back on myself. Maybe I could go back and talk to Berlin some more. She was fun to talk to.

Suddenly, I ran past an alleyway, and I had to do sort of a whole body double take. I entered the alleyway and started towards the other side, praying that my plan had worked.

As my eyes stayed on the other end of the alleyway, a dark figure stepped into view, blocking the exit.

"Uh oh," I said out loud, and turned around to run back the other direction. Another vocation was standing there.

My next genius plan came upon me suddenly. I would jump for the fire escape, climb up the building, and escape by rooftop.

I jumped for the black metal ladder, and almost pulled myself up before I felt strong, metallic hands wrap around my ankles. I hung on to the ladder for dear life, but these types of vocations were built for work that required only physical exertion. They were much, much stronger than I was.

I was torn from the ladder, and I landed on my legs hard. I crumpled under my own weight, and found myself on my back.

I went to sit against the wall, but the vocation to my left wasn't having it. He punched me across the face. On impact, I felt my whole head rattle. I was lucky that that punch alone hadn't killed me. This was going to be a long day.

Warm blood started to trickle from my mouth, and I had to concentrate harder than I ever had to stay conscious, but I managed it.

"Who are you guys?" I asked.

The vocation who had put a dent in my skull said, "I think you know… dirty Bounty Officer."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not the man you're looking for," I said.

"Then why'd you run?" Inquired the other vocation. He pulled a pipe out from what seemed like a compartment in his back, and started to smack it against the palm of his hand impatiently.

I tried to get up again, but the vocation with the pipe brought it down on the wall right next to my head, causing my ear to ring violently. It was enough to get the message.

My eyes crept to the skies, and I noticed another vocation, this one woman, standing on the top of the roof from which I was trying to escape. They really had thought of everything.

She jumped down from the roof and landed with grace in the alleyway. She walked over to next to me, and kneeled down.

"The boss wanted us to send you a message," she whispered.

"Okay," I managed. "But you have the wrong guy."

"Good thing we aren't going to kill you," said the woman. She turned to the entrance to the alleyway and stopped, not turning back to speak. "This little visit was sponsored by Vocation 13, the leader of Destruction, and the destroyer of Earth. He wanted me to tell you to stop meddling in his little operation. And if you don't, there's more where this came from."

The woman turned around, and looked at each of the men vocations before saying, "Have at him."

My eyes widened as the woman vocation walked out of the alleyway. As soon as she winded the corner, the vocations to my sides began their assault.

At first I tried to stop them. As the pipe was brought down on my head for the first time, I caught it with my hand and threw it to the side. But this just made them more angry.

I flurry of blows, and then through blurry vision I saw the vocation go pick up his pipe. What followed was it being swung at my face, and then complete black, as if someone had turned off the TV.

I have had surgery before, so I know what it's like to wake up from anesthesia and then have the pain come upon you like a wave crashing down onto the shore of a rocky beach. This was ten times worse.

A cold raindrop from the sky brought me to life, my eyes flying open. I had heard about it happening before, but for some reason I had never really thought it could actually happen. I always thought that if you were attacked, you were either killed, or you weren't. But at this time and place, there was no doubt in my mind. I had been beaten within an inch of my life.

I tried to roll onto my side, but I couldn't. I was trapped under my own injuries.

Thoughts started to race through my head as if let free. How long had I been out for? Did I miss my first day of work? And the most prevalent thought that exited my brain was: I am going to get those assholes.

I opened my mouth, and aloud the rain to fall into it. This allowed me to raise my arm, and so I brought my hand to just above my face and wiggled my fingers. I wasn't completely broken.

Keeping my mouth open, I tried once again to roll onto my side. This time, I was successful. With a groaning sound that I hadn't known I could make, I propped myself up on my arm, thinking about the events that had transpired.

Above my head, in the entrance to the alleyway, a man walked by. He was an old man, with a long, white beard. He looked like the type of guy who would teach you kung fu if you asked politely. The man pushed a shopping cart, and was obviously homeless. But I could use all the help I could get.

"H-" I tried. I could form the words. I tried once again. "He-"

Finally, with all the power in my lungs I pushed out one word.

"Help!" I exclaimed, stopping the homeless man in his tracks.

His head turned and looked at my shriveled, mangled body. After a couple seconds of staring, he walked over, and stood over my body.

"Name's Beatle," he said. "What can I do you for?"

My look of anger must have resonated with him, because he knelt down and tried to help me up. Beatle put his arms under my body and tried to lift me up, but the scream that left my mouth, startled him, and he dropped me.

"What the hell?" Beatle inquired.

"Once more," I croaked. "I'm sorry."

Bealte knelt down once again and lifted me up, this time I stifled my scream, and what sounded like a whistle exited my mouth.

I leaned against the brick wall of the alleyway, and thanked Beatle, who happily went back to pushing his cart.

It turns out the vocations hadn't mangled my legs as much as they had torn apart my face, because I was able to successfully start limping down the alley, balancing myself against the wall to my right.

As I crept towards my hotel, people looked at me in shock. I even made a baby cry. Do you know what it's like to make a baby cry? It sucks.

I entered the lobby of my hotel after making five more babies cry, and looked over at the open bar. The vocations were gone, replaced by a nice robot family.

Stumbling into my room, I dragged myself over to my bed and sat on the end of it. I took out my communicator and opened the journal app.

A red dot appeared on the screen, and I pressed it, starting the recording which would be transferred to words and sent to the leaders.

"I just got the shit beat out of me," I began. "Oh, and also they know. They know about the operation."

And then I went to sleep for the second time that day.