Chapter Three

Neon drenched asphalt paves the roads reflecting off every tinted window that passes by. The smell alone could make you feel weak, a thick layer of apathy tainting the air in a viscous coat. Faces, shapes, and colours are in a haze as we pass by, but the unease of waiting has me sitting on the edge of my seat. Fur coats and cheap fishnets are sold by every street busker on the way, but even more sexy when you don't fix your eyes firmly on them. Drunkenly fiends slobber over them, soberly sociopaths lust over them, and somewhere in between I sit. Indifferent, and untouched by them. Untouched.

"The random dickhead who came to my store last, apparently wasn't one to cheap out on his ride, nor his clothes, which I was currently wearing. No he wasn't one who would waste the chance to be seen as a creature of purpose, a versatile creature of comfort with a mastery of such. Crazy he's the one currently in pieces breaking down in a barrel of sulfuric acid by a dumpster as opposed to sitting in this very expensive suit, in this very expensive car." I glare at each person walking, each figure skulking, creeping and crawling in the background and underbelly. Creatures of the night, writhing to find some kind light at the end of this perpetual night, this thick fog of existential dread waiting for us at the gates. "What creatures waited for us tonight? What shape do they hold?"

Mind racing I make my way towards the local strip club, passing by two cent hood piles of excrement, and sex-addled women enfatuaited with their own sense of beauty and style. Fiends of inhibition, lacking restraint or form in the night. I slow the car down to a crawl next to a hooker walking down the road, her eyes meet mine but she can't see them yet, not behind the glass. She stops, I stop. The glass rolls down and the only face to greet her is my crooked grin, "Why hello there, do you do couples?" I asked. Disconcertment washed over this young ladies face, terror soon to follow. I raise a wad full of cash and see her eyes gleam in under the light. "How much are you willing to pay?" She asks, walking towards the car.

"Oh honey, I've got five hundred that says you want to hop in my ride for the next hour, and fifteen hundred that says you want to spend the night." I smugly spout, watching her eyes flicker shades of green as she walks towards the car. Emerald shades entrancing all who witness, none excluded. None, except for me. I wasn't, I was negative. Without. Under and behind everything I was, something was growing, something that had been sedated up until now. Something, unearthly. She swings the car door open drunkenly, breath smelt of cheap liquor and menthols. Like a leper had sat in my car facing his last weeks. "So, why don't you just sit there and look pretty while I try and find our third, sound good?" I ask in that cocky kind of way, asking without asking.

She sat down awkwardly, in that way someone does when a deal is being brokered and everyone is pretending to be friends. "What's your name?" I ask, she reaches for my crotch while leaning in. I grab her wrist and press her against the seat, "That's not what I asked," I say before letting her go, "What's your name?"

"Amber." She says in a coy way.

"Amber, we're gonna wait till we get our third guest for tonight before we get into anything, okay?" I say again with that cocky way of asking without asking.

"Whatever man, you're paying." She says leaning back into her seat. Her eyes roll to the back of her skull as the car creeps, trying to recover any amount of sleep while fending off intrusive thoughts of distrust towards the stranger whose car she's now locked in.

We creeped in silence along curbsides, watching women to see if they walked the walk, if they spoke the lingo. It's not a hard process finding a hooker, but it's a hard process finding one that gets you hard. Time passed and there she was, golden hair and perfect teeth, perfect in every aesthetic sense of the word. The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew what I wanted, right then and there. I speed up next to her and roll down my window, "Hey, we're having a bit of a party. Do ya wanna join us? Could be something in it for you?" I start with unsureness, but watch as her feet stop and her interest increases with each word.

"You look like you have plenty company to me, mister." She says, seemingly unsure and unknowing. I watch as she makes that awkward stance of false uncertainty.

"What if I made it worth your while?" I continue, lifting the wad of cash again. I see Amber's eyes dart towards it and feel the anxiety slowly increase with each passing second.

"He offered me fifteen hundr--" Amber blurts out before my disapproving look stops her in her tracks. Just a second beneath the mask, long enough to see the deadliness in my eyes. Long enough for the terror to creep up her spine in a slow crawl, chiefly resting in between and waiting, distrust filling the air like plague.

"But I'm sure if fifteen hundred isn't enough, three thousand should cover it." My heart was beating slowly, so slow I could hardly hear it. Like my body was expecting, on edge waiting for the answer. Dancing eyes flutter between mine and the cash, and in a moment I knew she was mine.

"Al-- Alright.." She musters. My face curls into a grin as the words leave her mouth, "Amber. Get the fuck in the back seat." I say calmly while urging this beautiful creature into the passenger seat. A shadow casts over her face as she starts for the back seat, disappointment visible as she goes, but I could hardly keep my eyes off her.

"What uh,--" I start as she sits, "What's your name sweetheart?" I ask as kindly as I could manage. Her eyes wouldn't meet mine, embarrassment flushed over her face, but mine were fixed on her. She looks up at me from her lap, "Trini-- Or uh,-- well the other girls just call me Chastity..." I hear Amber laugh from the back seat, so I point the gun at her from behind my seat. Her laughs stop the moment I point it between her legs.

"Why exactly do they call you that?" I ask, cocking the gun silently. I could see Amber squirming in the corner of my eye, face contorting to hide the terror washing over her now but Trini can't. Her eyes raise to meet mine again with a new found certainty.

"Cause I haven't actually-- I haven't done,-- uh,-- this before. I'm sorry." She says, I just smile back completely unbothered, keeping her eyes far away from the gun.

"Honey, don't worry at all. It's not a problem." I say before flashing a grin to Amber and holstering my gun. Her eyes meet mine and the message was clear, any noise and I would likely start shooting.

The air in the car felt thick, like at any moment something would happen. But it didn't. Driving down side streets now, the car crept with intention. I offer Amber a cigarette and watch her trembling pale hand reach gingerly, like they were rigged to explode. Flick, flick, spark. Not another word uttered, not another sound made. Just the sound of the car and your thoughts to accompany you. Imagine the terror in hers. Trini doesn't know, not yet.

Doubling over and parking in some oddly familiar deserted parking lot at 2am is just as terrifying as it may sound, especially if you're in the car with me. Incandescent street lights buzzing low in the background as your eyes fix on the shadows cast by moving figures. Surrounding you, and somehow entirely unaffected by you. Shapes of things that aren't there are of no concern, but what of the shapes that are? How can you tell? Unease was setting in again as we sat in silence in the parked car, but expectant anxiety was beginning to bubble over, I was bursting at the seams.

"So what exactly do you want us to do, mister?" Trini asks coyly. I stare back with intensity in silence, stewing. 'Breath in, breath out' echoing in my head over and over again. Excitement was beginning to threaten the plan. I flick the automatic locks on all the doors as she finishes. The air turned cold in the car fast, windows already beginning to fog with each breath. I raise the gun and put it down on the dashboard, before sinking into my seat. I could hear Amber crying already, hysterically sobbing while covering her mouth so no one could hear. Trini was handling it worse, petrified in place. The gun had sent waves of terror throughout the car, and the reverberations could be seen just as much as felt.

"P-p-please,--" I hear Amber start, I turn to her with my shit eating grin growing from ear to ear, "Please don't r-rape me." Sickness hits like a wall, battery acid splashing in my stomach, working it's way up. "What?!" I ask grabbing her arm, "What the fuck did you just say?!" Dizzy, like delirium infused with an overbearing and pointed hatred. My left hand grabs the knife in my pocket as I plunge it in her leg, and as she flails I slug her in the jaw with my right. As I drag the blade out, I sit facing out for a moment.

"I uh,--," I start as the screaming in the car begins to overpower me, "Can you shut the fuck up?!" I say before grabbing her hair and holding my knife to her throat, I see Trini going for the door handle and meet her eyes. "If you touch the handle again, I'll make you eat your pretty little hands." Her hands dart back to her sides, but her eyes don't water any less. I laugh hard, "Look, if you guys haven't realized it yet: We're playing a game. And currently my dear," I lift Amber's head to meet my eyes, "You are losing." I say before tossing her against the back seat and turning to face them both. Eager eyes now sitting chiefly on my lip.

"S-s-so what're your f-fucking rules?"Amber asks defeatedly.

"No d-don't play his games!" Trini shouts. I turn and look at her with glee.

"But you don't even know if you'll like this game?" I say with a sarcastic look of disappointment.

"I-I-I don't give a fuck. Let me go!!" Trini shouts. I look at her disapprovingly before raising my index finger.

"But see, that's exactly the game we're playing. I knew you guys would like it." I say triumphantly, reaching for my ice cream scoop.

"N-n-n--" Trini starts.

"No?!" I say shouting my assumption, slamming the scoop down next to the gun, "So you don't want to get out? Well that's too bad because the only way you get to be alive when that clock says 3am is if you do exactly as I tell you. And if you don't like that...." I say reaching for the gun.

Trini and Amber were sunken deep into their seats. Amber's right eye was beginning to swell, a black eye was beginning to bruise nicely now, but one eye stayed perfectly pristine and coated with tears. Trini's hand began reaching, I watched as it crept closer to ice cream scoop on the dashboard. When she finally snatched it and had sunken into her seat, I decided to rest my hand at my side. Amber had her finger rubbing the inside of her eye, rubbing away tears.

"See, now this is how we should stay for the rest of the game, which I am sure is a lot of me to ask of you fine ladies." I start, silence following almost immediately. Their eyes were locked with intent now. "Oh yes, the rules. Well there is no screaming, and no fighting. All you have to do is do as I say, and I'll let you go. Scouts honour." I say with my left hand on my heart and my right hand in the air.

"Trini, I bet you can't scoop out Amber's left eye...." I say watching them both wince in disgust, Amber now was inconsolably crying, "And eat it."

Amber started clawing at the door, scratching and helplessly trying to unlock it. I pull out the gun and press it to the side of her head, firm enough to deter her. She raised her hands and backed against the corner of the back seat with the gun just rested on her cheek. Going cross-eyed staring down the barrel of the gun she just cried stronger.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asks ignorantly. I swipe the gun back to it's holster quickly and flash a smile.

"Oh nothing my dear, is wrong with me. This can end any time you want, but keep in mind you have a bit of a sick audience." I say smug.

"H-how d-d-do I do t-that?" Trini starts, waving the scoop towards Amber haphazardly. I smile and grab the back of Amber's head to bring it right next to Trini's seat, pressing the gun against the side of her skull.

"You just press on the back of the scoop," I start, prying Amber's eye wide open with my fingers, "And you pop it out once you've snapped the retina." Amber laid motionless with the gun pressed hard.

"Amber wouldn't dare move with the gun pressed, but intense pain offers some understanding or leeway to struggle. It's more fun honestly. But don't mistake that as me, this is all you partner. You're in control." I sit waiting as she begins to push the scoop in.

"Oh fuck!" She cries out over the shrill skrieks, as the scoop sinks into the socket. "Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!! Fuck!!!" She screams before snapping the retina and scooping out the eye fully. The final squishy snap echoes with satisfaction, I release Amber's hair and watch as she flops down, hole faced down on the seat, bleeding violently while whimpering to herself.

"I-- I, uh-- I--" Trini starts, I open my mouth expectantly, mouthing what I think she'll say next before she stops in terror.

"Now eat it." I say before pressing the gun under her chin, feeling her tremble even harder than before. The eye was sitting in a pool of blood in her hand, splashing all over as she trembles. My mouth watering slowly, more and more with each second. She looks down in terror and I see the look of uncertainty in her eyes the second before anything had happened. That one moment of unnatural calm that always comes before an explosion.

She jumps for the handle and I fire the gun off into her shoulder. She cries out in agony, shot echoing loudly, but I be sure to grab the eye before her arms flail violently. Eye in one hand, I point the gun at her head and keep myself as collected as possible. I extend out the hand with the eye and bring the gun just close enough to be out of her reach. The putrid smell coming from the back of the car was Amber vomiting profusely while clawing at the walls like a wild animal in disarray. I cock the gun and the car is filled with silence, even Amber stops herself as best she can from making any noise. I nod in the direction of the eye, eyeing it so Trini knew what to do.

"Eat it," I say, "Now." She slowly reaches for the eye, flushed and coated in sweat, she gingerly grabs it and holds it to her face. I watch her fight the sick and stare it down, face to face. I just keep my wild-eyed smile and watch disconcertingly.

"Just f-fucking do it!" Amber screams out from the back seat. I chuckle before slapping her on the back playfully, listening as she slams hard against the floor.

"Exactly little Trini, just f-f-fucking do it! Haha." I began laughing psychotically. I watched as she slowly lifted it above her mouth, her trembling lip and bloodshot-tearfilled eyes. Shaking like a withering plant in a typhoon, I watch as she drops it in. The gentle squish of each crunch sends waves of sickness throughout the car. Amber begins vomiting harder, and I think I could understand, even if I felt nothing. Trini pressed herself against the car door in the corner of her seat now, waiting to be let go. I lean back and light a cigarette.

"Does anyone else need a cigarette?" I ask, silence being the only response. I poke my head into the back and cock my head to look at Amber's. "You look like you could use a smoke right now." I say. Her head shaking and the exhaustion wearing her thin, between blood loss and excruciating pain she was walking a perfect fucking tightrope.

"D-d-do you, uh-- have any, uh... menthols?" She musters, spitting up the last bit of bile in her saliva. I drag a smoke from the pack and put it in her expectant hand. As she starts to sit up I see Trini still absolutely mortified, I hold out the pack to her insistently before she waves it away.

"Suit yourself sweetheart, but we still have two games left to play," as the words leave my mouth I feel the car sink back into an unease. Trini now clawing violently at the door, Amber too tired to waste any more effort than smoke. I raise the gun and watch as Trini freezes.

"So, the rules of the second game," I say taking a long drag from my smoke while reaching into the passenger compartment, holding out a hammer and two two-inch nails, "Amber, I bet you can't hammer these nails into Trini's precious little ears." Amber's eyes darted up the second I said her name. That same cracked and crooked smile on my face had washed over hers. Trini looks at me expecting to laugh, or admit this is all a dream. But it wasn't.

Amber grabs the side of her head and slams it against the dashboard before pinning her head on one ear sticking straight up. I watch in amazement as Amber sticks the nail in the hole with no guidance, and swings down hard. Even without one eye her depth perception is astonishing. Her eyes kept the same intensity the whole way through, like she could've done it without a second thought. Without missing a beat.

Trini starts clawing at Amber's eye, but Amber just bashes her in the mouth. With her head turned she pins Trini's head against the dash and pushes the nail in the second ear. Left hand pressing down the head, right hand reeling in the hammer down on the nailhead. Blood rushing fast out both ears, Trini hugs the dashboard with wide-eyes. Almost expressionless. Amber sunk into the backseat, smoke still in mouth.

"What's your third fucking game?" She asks before taking a long drag. I couldn't help myself at this point, I began clapping.

"Well, Amber. The third game is even better, but you should know the spare key to get out is on Trini right now." I lean in close, "But only one of you can get out." I say for good measure before drawing my gun to back out the car door. "Just consider the fire as a cautionary timer." I say backing out of the car.

"Split seconds are the moments I believe humans shine brightest. As a species we have our own system to weigh the pros and cons of each decision, and it offers a truer look into the minds of everyone. Especially before they die." Amber lunges for the door as I punch down and slug her in the jaw. Face plant down, her body lands on the driver's seat as I slam the door shut and lock the car. Silence followed.

I pop the trunk as I make a beeline for it, what's next? Five jerry cans filled with 20L of 86 Octane gasoline lined the inside, my lighter burning a hole in my pocket. As I reach for one can, I feel the car begin to rock violently. Soft packing sounds muffled through glass mixed with the inaudible slashes with a knife, with only shapes through tinted windows to assume the situation. I pour the gasoline on the roof of the car imagining all the possibilities of what could be happening inside. As one can emptied, I started a second coat of gas, ensuring to coat the last three cans before pouring bar-soap shavings into the fuel tank.

I step back and light a cigarette, watching figures slam against the windows and car fixtures indifferently. And then, without a second thought, I firmly toss the smoke into the trunk. A sick macabre of flames independently exploding to life across the entirety of the car. Fumes flowing upwards, trying to escape the impending doom, while the fire spits hot flame in sputtering puddles. The shaking had stopped in the cloud of smoke ensuing in the car, cooking them alive. Everything had come to one beautiful calm climax, sitting in silence. A silence only broken by the screaming figure forcing herself out through the inferno enveloping the trunk of the car.

Embittered shrieks of agony as flailing hands are cooked with each surface they touch, slowly dragging themself through an oven. There's a terrifying moment before the fuel line ignites. Those seconds before are all build-up, uncertainty. In these moments anything can happen. The dead can reign supreme, the living can have a change of heart, there are no rules waiting for the hammer to come down. But in a split second, the fuel line will be ignited, causing the compressed gasoline in the engine to explode in a twisted inferno. Consuming every screaming inch.

The silence that follows a car exploding is sobering, like dominos falling. Each terrible moment only exaggerated by the last, warm head and freezing body left slightly tanned by the calamity. The flames funneling out the trunk, cooking the fresh corpses of both Amber, and the likely slightly less fresh corpse, Trini.

"Oh, sweet little Trini didn't make it out of the front seat," her corpse's figure illuminated by the flames cooking the smoke-filled interior, "It didn't matter that there was never a second key. They wouldn't have expected me to have rigged the back to be the only exit, and surprisingly, only Amber did."

The walk to the bus stop was quiet, calm. To say peaceful would be entirely ignoring what city I live in, but to say repugnant would too. A cool in between, where uncertainty reigned supreme as I laugh off thoughts of burning hookers and the ensuing chaos. It was just cold enough to be constantly poignant, unwavering. But just warm enough to try and consciously ignore. The wind blew like a gentle tug, cooly nipping at all exposed skin. A long and thoughtful walk would have followed this had I not seen him, standing there with his arms crossed, shaking in the wind with a cigarette lightly dangling from his lip. A madcap look on his face like he was entirely unaware there was a world outside his head. I come up from behind and make for the bench. Drawing a cigarette to my lip, before I fake search myself for a lighter and watch as he realizes I'm there.

"Hey, can I bum your lighter for a sec?" I say looking up from the bench with an expecting hand held out. He stares at me for a minute, assessing what exactly it is I had asked, before piecing it together and handing me his lighter.

"Weird little creatures we are, forming habits and little systems for ourselves to function in. A system for everything we do in life, unique to ourselves and no one else. And somehow none of us have learned any better how to hide them. Take for instance this guy, barely coherent or conscious; you could figure out where the decline in his life started before looking past the sleeve of puncture wounds up and down his arm. I'd bet he's probably a dealer--" I look up at him with uncertainty, while he stands completely unphased, "Do you deal?" I ask. His expression turned cheery with glee, like I'd just said some fantastical compliment without prompting.

"Shit, I got Soft, Pot, E, Jib, whatever you want man." I nod in agreement as he begins trembling approvingly, "What'dja 'ave in mind?" He asks leaning in close. I start focusing on the little movements he makes. Arm holding shoulder, limp shaky body, constricted pupils with a trembling drunken slur.

"Uh,-- H-how about s-smack?" I cough up, before spitting phlegm onto the sidewalk.

"Yeah man, right on. C-come with me man." He says before shuffling off towards an poorly lit catwalk. Terror would be filling my thoughts of burnt hooker was still lingering in the background, settling in. Tripping over garbage laden streets, I force myself into a limp and hunch over for good measure.

The walk was frigid. Freezing late winter nights meshed together normally, but this one stuck out. He offered only passive conversation, passing time to fill the background with a bit of noise to put me at ease. I however was growing annoyed. Frosted sidewalks crunched under my shoes, dimly shining under the arching rows of streetlights. Caged front fences blockin chicken-coop houses devoid of life; Forgotten childhood treasures lying across front lawns and curbside, undoubtedly we had entered Suburbia.

It was surreal how unfamiliar everything seemed. It all felt unnatural, warped, obscured. Places the light had dedicated to memory were given unearthly shapes at night. Nothing felt as it should, and everything felt far away. All the light was consumed under the serene moon, lazily hanging in the sky, indifferent and unaffected. The light danced on the outsides of the houses, and across the frozen streets. My eyes followed in a daze, like a trance I'd become its slave. Before the light had dimmed we were already at the house, ducking in through a side window. Destitute and alone between two rentals.

The ground of his kitchen was cold and earthen, like prison cell concrete floors stretching across the rest of the basement. His bed was more of a shrine of paraphernalia that had been sprawled around a deeply stained mattress, filth ridden blankets laying on the ground in a pool of some unknown liquid. A glimmer of light bounced from his side and instantly my eyes fixed on him: Uniformly shaking across the whole of his body, I could see he was holding something behind his back. I smile as I begin to fix my hunched posture, now towering over him my crooked grin begins to creep farther and I can see his certainty flutter in the back of his mind, discomfort soon to follow.

"So, where's the smack?" I ask calmly, no longer holding up the persona. His seemed to have grayed too, paled in the light to reveal a more genuine and animalistic face soaked in moonlight.

"W-w-well, ya see p-p-pally," he says before lunging at me with lurching arms waving razor sharp shards of glass. I kick in the side of his shin and watch him spin as he slams on the other to catch his fall, and laugh before stomping down on the back of his head. It was like I could feel it starting from the center and working its way out, as I cracked his skull against the rough floors. I barely noticed the blood had started pooling until I felt the stream carry to where I was standing.

"Oh I see you, watching with your own morbid fascination. If for any reason the trip is to take an unexpected turn, remember it's all simply---" With my leg raised high, I bring it down hard on the head and hear, and unsettling tremorous crack, "---words on a page. Words you don't have to read..." With confusion I roll the body over and see the blood trickling down his eyes and mouth, the rest of the face was more reminiscent of tenderized meat than anything else. Skin cracking and bleeding all along the face; I began to drag him towards the basement.

"This place could use a real fixer-upper, don't you think pal?" I say before kissing him on the cheek, and kicking his body down into the darkness of the cellar.