Bohemian Boy

The gray reaper was closing in on him, a huge, metallic behemoth. The machine's roar filled his senses, drowning out his mind's desperate whispers. For a moment, he felt calm. It was like he was an observer, detached from the terrifying reality. But beneath this calm, a storm raged. His body screamed in protest, every fiber yearning for survival. Still, there was a part of him that craved like crazy for an escape from the burden of existence.

Then an orange blur appeared out of the corner of his eye. With a speed that defied nature, the orange blur collided with him, sending him tumbling away from the relentless steel beast. The world tilted, spun, and plunged into darkness.

When consciousness returned, he was sprawled on the cold, hard ground, the taste of dirt and adrenaline a bitter cocktail. A weight was pressed against him, a warmth that seeped into his cold body. His eyes flickered open, defying reality. Intense yellow eyes, and a freckled face, framed by ginger hair, stared back at him. The scent of sun-warmed fur mingled with a deeper, almost primal aroma.

For a suspended moment, time stood still. Man and beast, a surreal tableau etched into the fabric of his consciousness. Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, the vision transformed. The weight lifted, replaced by the comforting purr of the cat.

Ru rubbed his eyes. The last image remained unchanged, the orange cat sitting there on his chest.

"Thank my goddess, you're okay," he said, looking into the cat's eyes. "You shouldn't do that again. Not even if you are a human in another dimension."

And he decided to stroke the cat.

"You must be Anaxarete's cat because she is a witch and witches have cats, their handsome cats. Oh, that's nonsense!"

Now he was thinking. What was the meaning of this incident? Was it a man or a cat who saved him? Maybe both together.

"Are you a witch? A male witch? Maybe warlock?"

With complex thoughts in his head, he decided to get up again. He searched for any trace of the man for a while but found nothing. It was as if everything was nothing but intertwined dreams. Maybe his whole life was just a dream.

"What am I doing, why am I doing it, where am I really? Is this a science fiction story or pure fantasy, kitten? Oh, sorry, you're a daddy cat."

"Meow!"

"I'll take that meow as confirmation... What should we do now, witch?"

The cat scratched Ru's hand, "KhIIIIsss!"

"Oops, you savage! And gotcha, you aren't a witch."

"Mrrrp!"

"And you want to get off," Ru said as he looked at the scratch on his hand and smiled. Then he gently put the cat down. "Come on, show me the way."

The cat ran ahead and went under the barbed wire. By the time Ru caught up, it was already out of sight.

"Oh, let me be like my alter ego, Almighty Ru. Alone and unloved."

And he hit the road again. There was nowhere for him to go. Trains whizzed by, nylon bags flew, and dust blew away.

The destination Ru had in mind was the next train station. But he didn't want to set a goal, not even a small one. After silencing all the voices in his head, he wanted to experience bohemia. He took a detour. The area is littered with garbage, tires, and a few junkyards. He finally a run-down street.

"Good for bad guys like me," his thought was. He was drowning in the delusion that he could punish the almighty Ru by punishing himself. However, he didn't realize that.

There were a few minor confrontations in a few of the motel and bar scenes lit by neon signs. There were prostitutes, drug dealers, bullies, and a few punks who had had too much to drink.

It was just the right place to make music. With this thought, Ru felt a great sense of absence. He searched for it in his hands and then on his lips. He was an instrument. He involuntarily whispered the name of this instrument that he had always searched for and never found.

"Jack the Fly."

He opened both hands, hoping that his flute would magically appear. He closed his eyes tightly. And he imagined the flute rising out of the night and falling like a comet into his palms.

Yes, there was something in his hands, money!

"Is that enough?" a man asked.

Ru opened his right eye, then his left. His gaze was caught between the bundle of money in his palm and a man in a fedora with a cigar in his mouth and a gold chain that had disappeared into his hairy chest.

"What's this money for?" Ru asked.

"Aren't you a prostitute? Why do you ask?" the man said.

"Aw..." He was happy with the weight of the bundle, but unhappy with the profession he was assigned. He was conflicted. "What time is it?" he asked, trying to make out the man's face shadowed by the hat.

The man rolled up the sleeve of his fur coat and pointed at the clock: "Midnight."

"Great, let's go then," Ru said with an innocent smile. "You pick the place," he said as he took the man's arm.

Why shouldn't he? He was of age at this moment. Not only was he of age now, but he had found a man who paid his tip in advance, who was rich, judging by the way he was dressed. He wanted to neutralize him, whether by stealing his wallet or tying him up and calling his family. Taking an inappropriate photo with the man was one of the options.

Blackmail, kidnapping, or robbery?

Ru was sure that he could do all three. He would make up for his defeat at Mr.Thargata with a victory. As for prostitution, the profession was like a torn dress locked away in an old trunk.

He tried to keep that dress away from him as he walked with the man under the neon lights.

He read many signboards and saw many people as he retreated into the alleys. He loved the eerie polyphony of illegal nights. The music playing in his brain combined with the curse words and went wild. He was inspired by the way the bodies stomped like drums and the anger was at full throttle.

And the adrenaline rush of committing a crime? Ru loved that excitement.

Finally, they arrived at the motel. The place looked like a ruin. Some of the lights on the sign looked like they hadn't been on for years. Yellowed curtains, broken windows, and old wooden doors reflected the mood of the place.

As he stepped through the door, he was startled by the creak of the old wooden floor. What a sexy sound and how suspicious...

The sounds, breaths, and moans coming from the rooms along the corridor made the place come alive like an organism. The smells of alcohol, perfume, sweat, and cigarettes mixed, soaking the mind in the honey of lust.

They went upstairs and finally, a door opened. First, the man entered, then Ru. The simple room consisted of a double bed, an armchair, a small closet, two nightstands, and a lampshade that barely provided any light. It was lit mainly by the sign on the outside wall and some lights from the buildings.

Ru ordered the man: "Get ready, I'll wait for you."

The man went to bed with rapid breaths like a pet dog. Just then, all the lights on the street went out.

Ru, happier than ever now that the power was out, was about to take action. He had put the camera in the closet. He took off his jacket and threw it. He slowly unbuckled his belt as he walked towards the bed. He stood in front of the man with sadistic lust. He desired to take this guy's breath away.

His belt hit the ground like a whip.

wuh-PSSSH!

At that moment the man groaned like a wounded animal.

A hot wetness splashed onto Ru's face, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth.

Panic gripped him as he looked for a place to escape in the dark. A thud echoed in the still night, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. He turned, his heart pounding in his ears.

A gloved hand clamped over his mouth, silencing his cry. A whisper, soft yet chilling, entered his consciousness:

"Sleep, sleep, in the starry sky,

Close your eyes, my child, don't cry.

Dreams come, gentle and kind,

Rest your head, you'll find peace."