The Beginning of the Mad End

A figure shivered violently under a rough jute bag over their head. Silent whimpering could be heard in the bare and broken room, a part of a wall caved outwards. A door was pushed open, falling off of its rusted hinges and being held up entirely by the guest. He cursed under his breath and let the door drop to the floor with a loud bang, adjusting the bag back onto his shoulders. The person under the hood stops all movements now. Niz steps forward, the floorboards groaning against his weight. He walked over to the captive and slowly pulled the hood off to reveal the face of his old man. Tears streamed down his age-wrinkled face.

Niz put his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a thin syringe, uncapping it in the process. He shushes the crying old man and says in a voice used to console crying kids,

"It's okay. Just talk to me about all this. I know you can't… which is why our little friend here will help you out."

He tapped at the syringe with his finger and brought it down calmly but firmly into his right arm vein. The man tried to stop him but it was over in a flash. He could feel the warmth travel up and past his shoulders into his heart. Then the warmth found its way to the far reaches of his body, his muscles calming down and finding some semblance of strength back. Most notorious of all would be his mouth. A cry uttered from his lips as they parted without restraint.

"P...ple-"

Niz stopped him and pulled out three items from his bag.

"A black file, a token made of gold and a revolver. The black file had 'this' in it. What is it?"

Niz flipped it open and pulled out four yellowed sheets of paper. Each one nearly identical and indecipherable to each other with the difference being just the signatures. Niz gently laid the pages on his father's lap. The old man attempted to shove the papers away but he simply no longer had the strength for it. Niz urged him to continue but the man kept crying and wanting to push the papers away with no success. Niz sighed and shook his head low.

He clasped the hands of his father and looked him in his blanched eyes and said,

"Look, all you have to do is tell me what this thing is and if those papers are real. Stop sobbing for Christ' sake."

The man got silent and looked at Niz. Niz then continued,

"Well, you'll also have to give up your life as well but that's for later."

Panic settled back in his eyes as he struggled again futilely. Niz lets go of his hands and picks up the pages to eye level.

"Last time. What. The. Fuck. Is. This?"

The man ceased his movements and spoke in the softest of voices,

"...Receipts."

"What for?"

He became silent again.

"What. For?"

"...Debts. Paid... in full."

"Then what about the medallion?"

"A favour… Owed by me."

"That's it?"

The man went silent again. Niz pondered for a little while. He almost got back up but then a thought flashed through his mind and he gripped the old man's shoulders causing him to yelp out in pain. Realization flooded him for a moment as did rage.

"Throughout my entire life, you were nothing but a drunk lowlife. How the fuck did you pay off any debts, let alone a damn dollar?"

Sheer terror filled the old man. He spoke again but failed, the warmth fading from his being. Niz fumbled around in his pocket and took out another syringe, this time, stabbing it straight into the man's neck.

A painful cry was uttered, the warmth now overpowering whatever coldlife was left in him. He spoke rushedly, his time dwindling away.

"I paid… with my family."

"Bullshit, your family never exi-"

Understanding dawned on Niz like a thunderbolt out of the blue.

"Who did you owe?"

"T-The… Bazaar."

"And by paying with your family… you mean?"

"...Yes."

Niz stumbled backwards in surprise. His throat clamped up and his mouth felt drier than sun-baked sand. All his life, he had gone believing he had no family to speak of, no caring mother to turn to, not one person that saw him as a human. Just his drunk abusive excuse of a father and him, stuck for 18 godforsaken years. He tried running away once. Was brought back and didn't dare to do it again. He suffered and suffered and suffered with no end to his suffering but acceptance of death. Even that wouldn't come.

He gave a low chuckle, letting go of the weak shoulders, his father slumping back into the chair. The gears in his mind turned and they clicked into place, setting in stone a decision to be made. He took a deep breath and breathed out the musty air.

"You've paid your debts, you say?"

The man cried, no more tears leaving his dry eyes. Niz stepped leisurely behind his chair. He placed a gentle hand on his bald head and said,

"A debt remains owed, father. A debt to be paid with interest."

The weeping continued diminishing in volume. Niz brought his other hand to his father's shoulder.

"A heavy debt incurred by the life you've lived, the lives you've ruined… The monster you've created.."

Niz gripped his father's chin and head, uttering a dry laugh.

"Be sure to miss me, wherever the fuck you're headed."

A sharp twist of the head, a sickening crack resounded and the weeping ceased. For all of eternity, an acceptance of death.

-----

The coffee machine whirred as it chewed up the beans. Ryan stared listlessly at the red button light. It blinked to signify it was done but Ryan did nothing, he was lost in his own thoughts, eyes unfocused on everything. His brain didn't process the flash of pink hair standing before him.

For just a moment, his eyes focused back on everything and he saw her face held up in her hands, sea blue eyes looking deeply into his. This puzzled him a bit.

"What is it Nora?"

She giggled and replied,

"Lost in your empty brain, were you? Coffee's done, pour it."

"Oh."

Nora scooted off the counter and began to walk to her working station, some pieces of various dough still on it. She picked up the chocolate spread with a spoon and placed it at the base of a triangle shaped dough. She continued rather exasperated,

"In all seriousness though, what has been on your mind lately?"

Ryan poured the coffee in a quaint little porcelain cup. He asked her,

"What do you mean?"

Nora folded the dough over itself, slowly forming a cute little croissant. She placed it to the side as she began to work on another one.

"What I mean is… there isn't any life in our arguments these days. Are you in love?"

Ryan plated the cup and set it aside, looking at Nora.

"It's nothing of the sort, Nora."

"Then?"

He sighed and turned back to the cup, thoughts of the past overtaking him again.

"You remember when and how you got this job?"

Nora turned to look at him as she folded over another croissant.

"Pastry chef, yeah. Some bad crowd busted up the cafe, cafe then turned ghost, then horrible things happened to the bad crowd, cafe became a publicity hotspot and then I got hired- Why are you asking me this, are you planning on getting me fired?"

Ryan chuckled as he took the coffee away, walking out the door.

"Oh how I wish…"

"Shut up."

Ryan walked out of the kitchen and into the seating area, glancing at the manager manning the register. He felt somewhat troubled but did nothing about it. He went around giving the orders cheerily and taking some more as well. He headed back to the kitchen, the end of his black cotton apron flowing a little behind him.

Entering into the kitchen, a gust of warm air greeted him as well as the sight of Nora raising herself on her toes to put in the croissants in the oven. He looked to his right and kicked over a stool. She stopped it with her feet and stepped on it, placing the tray smoothly into the oven. Niz went back to the coffee machine. He continued their conversation,

"The bad crowd…"

Nora looked at him for a second. She was checking in on the cinnamon rolls.

"What about 'em?"

Ryan was changing the filter paper when he stopped and turned around, saying,

"There was this one guy… Niz. He was there when the cafe got trashed, he was there when the last of the bad crowd got-"

"Flattened by a truck, yeah and?"

Turning back to the machine, he began his routine again.

"I don't really know, he just... Gives off weird vibes. As if he had something to do with it."

Nora was in the middle of grabbing a cup when she burst into laughter. Ryan stopped his hands and looked at her. She eventually stopped laughing and turned to him, a look of seriousness on her face.

"Oh wait, you're serious?"

Ryan gave her a look. He sighed as he continued with the machine,

"Yeah pretty much. He tipped me a 20 for a towel I gave him to clean himself up with and he didn't even notice he was all dirtied up. He just sat there… drinking his coffee, not a care in the world in his eyes, just a manic look."

Nora fake stumbled over to Ryan, arms outstretched to her sides.

"You got tipped a 20 for a towel?"

"Yup, and then, when that guy got hit by the truck, he looked… happy. Ecstatic even, I don't know it was all so weird and… scary."

Nora whipped her head away and waved her hand dismissing his concern lightly.

"He's probably just some creep who creeps young women out by staring at them for too long, maybe that's why you've got the heebie jeebies about him, you're a woman."

Ryan continued with his coffee making while Nora walked around sprightfully, her job being done for the most part.

"Unlikely so, he brought someone to the cafe, Medea, and I am not a woman."

Nora giggled midway her sentence as she said,

"Firstly, Medea who? Secondly, ew, you aren't a woman? What are you doing in the kitchen then?"

Both of them chuckled and laughed. Ryan continued,

"Medea, this girl I don't know but then, like an idiot, went to her house some time ago."

Nora stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to him and said,

"Honestly, I think you're the creep. To her house?"

Ryan nodded apologetically.

"Yeah I know it's just… It's terrifying to be in his presence and she was the only one I have met so far who wasn't utterly petrified of him."

Nora looked at Ryan's eyes. She was afraid she'd see something untowards but there was nothing bar genuine concern. Easing up a bit that Ryan harbored no ill intention as of the moment, she asked,

"Well, was she wary of him?"

Ryan's hands went up and about, he exasperatedly replied,

"She was wary of everything but him that day."

"Hmm… Weird."

The oven dinged. Nora walked over to it while putting on her gloves and began pulling out dessert after dessert from their racks. The smell of baked goods wafted over and assailed Ryan's nostrils. It had become difficult to keep angry-arguing with Nora when she was bringing this heavenly smell to the atmosphere he worked in. His eyes closed as his 'coffee hands' stopped. Nora put them all on a large surface, a sweetened steam emanating from the pastries.

Not long after, the manager entered the kitchen, a gleeful smile on his face, eyes partly shut. He looked at Nora with a twinkle in his eyes,

"I smell deliciousness."

Nora harrumphed in response and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You smell money being minted."

Uncle Poe chuckled loudly, one decibel away from going into a belly laugh,

"Hehehe, you could learn something from her, Ryan."

"Oh please, I try not to."

Uncle Poe tapped at his watch while going into his office.

"Serve them while they're delicious and both of you can close up early today, I have to go somewhere."

Nora fistbumped Ryan,

"You got it chief."

Saying that, Nora moved to begin preparing her creams and fondant work and Ryan went back to his coffee.

Nora spoke up from her piping tools, eyes glued to the cupcakes before her,

"Anyway I am going to be telling you what I think, will you be listening to it?"

"It better not be a joke."

Nora took a long pause. Ryan was contemplating looking up from his coffee but decided to uneasily wait a little bit longer. Finally, Nora spoke, having dealt with the concerns in her mind,

"I think… Niz has his secrets but he doesn't seem like a criminal or someone who would hurt you or anyone here without reason. Sure he's creepy, weird vibes and all but he isn't the only one who seems that way and it's pretty subjective. For all you know, Medea could be more wary of you than him simply because you're creepier for going to her home at what, nighttime?"

Ryan sighed as he answered,

"Yeah nighttime…"

"An absolute creep and a danger…"

He shot back,

"Shut it you d-"

Nora cut him off, waving her piping tool at him,

"-I'm not finished. As for you… Don't do anything reckless that could have you end up in a sewer all chopped up in a plastic bag having to be pulled out by a crane. As much as I am good with these bejeweled desserts, I cannot make a proper coffee for the life of me."

Ryan was flustered at her comment. He mumbled something under his breath, finally replying,

"Well, I'll be flattered, a compliment."

Nora corrected him,

"A warning. Don't be dumb."

Ryan finished up with the coffee cup and raised his hands in defense. He shut his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"Alright alright, I won't go seeking for reckless danger but-"

"-No buts."

Ryan walked over to Nora who was still engrossed in her work.

"But if reckless danger would come to me… then I would-"

"-Run. Flight over fight before you get any funny ideas."

Ryan chuckled and got close to her face,

"Sounds like you don't want me to be hurt eh?"

Nora finished piping and sighed as she placed the almost-empty bag down. She turned to face him and looked in his eyes. Ryan felt a bit of seriousness from her gaze. He gulped dryly. Then, she spoke,

"That's because I'll be the one to end your pitiful existence. Can't have some creepy guy beat me to it."

Ryan let out his bated breath. He turned around and took up the cup of coffee. Stepping back over to Nora, he held the cup and saucer up to her face jokingly.

"Fine by me. I won't go searching for danger."

Nora placed a pair of cupcakes on another saucer which she handed to Ryan.

"Good. Go deliver this where it is needed."

"Why don't you do so?"

"Because I'm the chef and wearing the hat."

"You could maybe liven up the place for all we know."

"Not today, off you go."

"Fine."

The manager steps out of his office having changed his attire. He had a brown folder in his hands which he was fumbling with. It wasn't apparent to either of the two whether he was trying to open it or glue it shut. Ryan walked past him saying,

"Say hi to the missus for me."

The manager absent-mindedly nodded as he continued fumbling with the folder. Meanwhile, Nora had frozen in her tracks. She whipped her body to face the manager and looked at him wide-eyed as she shrieked,

"YOU HAVE A MISSUS AND DIDN'T TELL ME?!"

The manager suddenly looked up, realizing what Ryan had done. He turned to grab at Ryan but Ryan had already headed out the door, concerned customers looking towards the kitchen. He gulped as he faced Nora who was fuming. She gave one look to the door and back at him, lowering her voice indefinitely.

"You…"

"I-I-I-I'll explain… but later, I'm running late! Bye!"

Saying that, the manager rushed out the door, the folder clutched in his hands, leaving behind an enraged Nora who had been asking since day one whether the old fogey was married or not and when she could meet the missus. In the dining area, Ryan was grinning to himself as he placed the coffee and cupcakes before a very concerned customer. He gave her a reassuring look as he went back into the kitchen.

-----

Chilling, the nightly breeze swept past the puddles in the abandoned lot. The ground was strewn with litter here and there as some less-than-sober kids walked about aimlessly. Cigarette smoke momentarily filled the open air around them as they talked amongst themselves. Some of the present who were seated around a rubber tire had one of their arms put forth with clenched fists. Syringes were hovering. Jamming them in their arms, they injected themselves, a rush most familiar pouring through them.

Stepping carefully, the fear pounding away at her, Medea made her way into the lot, carrying a small bag. One of the boys there noticed her and exclaimed,

"Hey look, she's here!"

Everything became silent for a moment before a clamour and a rush about happened as some gathered around her with plastered smiles. The ones who were busy with the syringes were… busy with the syringes.

One of them approached Medea but she stuck out her hands in front of her.

"Not for long, I just need to clarify something."

The guy had a look of confusion on his face but the rest of those behind him couldn't bring the same one with such skill in time. He continued,

"Uh… Okay. What's up Med? Why didn't you come for the good time? We were waiting for you."

Medea looked at him and cocked her head.

"I did. Got jumped by a homeless man and almost got raped."

"Wack. Wait, you aren't kidding?"

"Not one bit."

The other people behind him were now fully concentrated on her. The guy she was talking to was not having much of a difference on his face yet.

'Almost? What about…'

"What happened to him?"

Medea casually glanced away gazing at her hands and checking her non-existent nail polish.

"A 6-inch knife went frolicking in his neck. It wasn't having any fun so it left as quickly as it entered."

The guy went dead-silent, his face drained of colour. Death wasn't alien to them but a hired hand known to be forgotten by death itself… he needed confirmation.

"You aren't seriously saying that he's…"

"Deader than a mouse with a rolling pin to the Head? Yeah, pretty much."

Medea looked at them straight and 'accidentally' dropped her bag. Out spilled a haphazard collection of kitchen knives. Some had specks of dried red on them. Instantly, the gang took a couple steps back. Medea forced a look of frustration upon her face and said while squatting down to pick them up,

"Ah shit. Come help me pack this up. Wouldn't want the boys in blue seeing this."

"Medea…"

The guy quietly managed to whisper out nothing but her name. He and his friends had no interest in keeping Medea as a "friend". She was supposed to be their "fresh meat" and instead, they ended up with this murderous psycho instead.

Medea glanced up and said,

"Whatever it is, it can wait, come on! Help me out, aren't you all my friends?"

"Yeah but-"

"-I'm not asking you to hold someone down, just help me pack these up, I have to go."

"…Where?"

"Somewhere…"

Turning around to face a much shorter guy, he said resolutely,

"…You. Go help her."

He looked up in protest but all he got back was 'sooner it's done, she leaves.'

Sighing in defeat, he gingerly bent down and picked up one knife after the other with shaky hands. Soon enough, sweat was loosening his grip on them. He finished up and placed them in her bag and quickly stood up as did Medea.

"Thank you. Now, I have places to be, I do not suppose we'll be meeting each other anytime soon so this will be my goodbye for now."

He quickly said,

"Y-ye-yeah… G-Good bye, Medea!"

Medea smiled and laughingly said,

"You better not get in my way."

"W-we-we won't. In fact, we're going home n-now. C-C-Catch you later."

"Whatever."

Saying that, Medea exited the now quiet ground. She hadn't even turned the corner when her knees buckled and gave way as she fell to the ground, shaking and breathing quickly. Her eyes were wide open yet her vision blurry.

Fear had been pounding away at her entire being from the inside. It took every single fiber of her self to not give in when facing the ones that wanted her downfall. She was by no means physically strong and yet… this much strength was enough.

Slowly bringing her breathing back to normal, she wiped away the silent tears from her face and took deep breaths. Raising herself up, she stood straight and looked forward at the dim street light and buzzing flies, houses dotting the other side of the street. Steeling her nerves, she picked her bag and walked her way home, sticking to the lit roads.