Murder Me (redux) [AndNich123 & ShadowsLitany]

[ShadowsLitany]

Though his reflection stared back from the glass Bruce looked beyond it to the lights of the city that stretched before him. The view from the Penthouse in the tallest building was extraordinary, if you liked that sort of thing, where the creation of man winked back at him through various lights and structures. Some of it breathtaking, some of it beautiful, if you liked that sort of thing, but now it was all lost on him. Sipping absently from the champagne flute in his hand even its sweetness fell flat on his tongue, as most things had of late. Once a daredevil and thrill seeker that only the wealthy could be, none of those past times roused much of an interest any more.

Once you climbed every mountain, skied every trail, jumped from every plane, what was left?

That question had haunted him for the past few years. Slowly the ennui had settled over him like a shroud. Alcohol had been the only blissful escape as it made even the mundane amusing, or people interesting, for awhile until its own sweet release to oblivion and then each morning he could start again and avoid the payment due from the night before. Still he made time to socialize, it wouldn't do to be anything less than the social animal he had been, none of it brought more than a fleeting pleasure as if joy itself had been leeched out of his life. Even though he maintained himself, still a dashing physique and handsome profile with what looked in the reflection to be dark eyes and a square profile he at times felt like a throwback to a simpler time of men with chiseled features and squared chins, but he carried it off well with broad shoulders and a height that towered him slightly over other men.

Turning away from the view that had already served to remind him of the growing dimness within he looked down at the laptop screen and the email that lay unsent. Earlier he'd talked with the only confident who had left, Vincent was a throwback like himself, tall, broad and with squared features that made them seem like brothers. They'd done much together, breaking bones, falling with abandon down mountainsides to rest and recount their tales to impressionable women who shared their beds, yet all of that seemed like another person and so long ago. Vincent had told him to find something else, a thrill that bordered on the dark side, countering whispers and gossip that had been made into bad horror films and yet it had left Bruce intrigued.

Not willing to put his life and reputation in the hands of some unknown criminal enterprise in another country he'd looked nearby on a whim and found the ad, and the email address. Before he knew it Bruce had written a response, it lay there ready for one click to send it off to the ether and there to whomever wanted him to "Murder Me".

The title seemed a joke, and with so many search results looking like bad film plots or jokes, eventually he found one and that took his interest in its almost sincerity. Only the idea of it intrigued him, but could he take that step? It sounded so easy, just go out and do it. Take a life. So easy to say, but could he do it? Was it the only thrill left to him? Bruce thought it over with another glass as he wondered if it was something he could do. For another glass, and another he sat and looked as it by that alone the deed would be done.

Struggling within himself he couldn't resolve it, the conflict continued and with a final swallow of the emptied bottle he placed the glass down, hearing its loud clink as the crystal sat on the desk and with a touch he clicked send before turning while wondering if he was doing the right thing. Giving up the struggle, for now, he turned and went to sleep.

 

[AndNich123]

The empty bottles clinked together as she wrapped her fingers around them and removed them from the table. Empty paper plates, containers that held various foods, and of course the ever loved used napkins littered the table. 'Such a pity,' she thought. 'Probably don't even own napkins at home.' It never ceased to amaze her how people acted so different in public. Some were far more hygienic. Then there were those who seemed to be nothing short of farm animals who seemed to barely the concept of using a public bathroom. Still, it paid the bills. The job wasn't how she envisioned spending her life, but here she was. A lot of people were probably in that same boat she imagined. The place was okay, the people were decent, and the money was enough to cover everything she needed. She was even able to help her family out here and there. Most of her family was scattered across the country, but she had remained close to home. So it seemed helping out her family fell on her shoulders. Aunts, uncles, cousins she rarely, if ever, saw anyone were only names and photographs. The only thing real were the ones she physically saw. In time, they too would be gone, and then what? What would she leave behind? Would she be remembered? It was hard enough taking in the day to day grind and worry, but to know that once she was gone that would be it, almost made things seem hopeless.



Molly sighed at the thought. There were so many other things she wanted, but seeing the world or trying anything that would be deemed exotic certainly wouldn't happen on her salary. Salary. She almost laughed out loud at the thought. A trip out of town once a year was a luxury to her. Still she had everything she needed, and some could not afford that. Plus she was able to help her family. So she always pulled her mind back into remembering how lucky she truly was.



Through the large windows that littered the front of the diner she could see the building uptown. They towered above the rest of skyline. Often she wondered what it would be like to be inside one of those buildings. What would it be like to live there? What did those people wear? She bet their clothes cost more money than she would ever see in a lifetime. Lifetime. Another word that almost drew a laugh from her lips. 'Maybe,' she thought.



Going behind the counter, she discarded the rest of what she had on her tray and once more looked towards the buildings. Maybe they were animals. Maybe they were as bad as she had seen in the movies. Wolves, terrible people who drank too much and worked too much. Maybe they….'Who am I kidding,' she thought. 'They have it all, and they probably don't even know it.' Her eyes shifted to some silly poster that had hung on the walls the entire time she had worked there. A kitten barely hanging on to a limp with some inspirational words. She smirked at it. 'I know how you feel little guy.' Walking over she placed her hand on the worn image of the little, furry animal before retrieving her bag from underneath the counter. "I'm out," she shouted to the man in the back, who yelled something back to her. Knowing it was okay, she unlocked the door, let herself out, and locked it with her keys.



Outside the cool night air kissed her face, and she felt awakened. The buildings still loomed in the distance, but somehow it felt different. Perhaps it was the evening air or the smells from downtown that filled her senses. Maybe it was the sounds of car horns blazing and people shouting. Whatever it was, the buildings seemed….bigger. It was hard to fathom, but the same ground that was beneath her feet right now was the same ground those people got to stand on. Granted they probably never went downtown, but it was in a sense. 'I'd give anything to meet one of them. I'd give anything to have what they have,' she thought.



Taking a step, she felt it. It was the tell tale feeling of a shoelace breaking. "Darn it," she whispered, sitting down on the curb to try and fix it. Pulling the lace from her shoe, she would try to lace up her shoes again and hope it would still work. As it came free, she held it up. "Perfect." Her hand flopped down, still clinging the lace, as she looked to the buildings once more. "Just once I'd like to not have to worry about….everything. Just once….," She stopped, hearing her phone chime in her bag. Pulling it out, her eyes widened at what she saw. Someone had responded to her ad. It had been so long since she put it up, she had almost forgotten about it, but there it was. A reply. She gulped, clenching her phone, starring at his words while the light from her phone lit up the area around her. 'This is it,' she thought. 'This is..what..I've been looking for.'

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Closing his eyes didn't help. Bruce turned from one side to another, but sleep was elusive. Burning through the alcohol haze it slipped easily from his grasp leaving him lying amid silk sheets frustrated and angry. Not towards anyone, other than maybe to himself, that frustration of wanting something so bad that you could not grab it and watched it easily get away. So sleep did for him. Try as he might, different positions, changing his pillow, eventually he gave in and lay back with a loud groan and stared at the ceiling.

In the deepest night thoughts come, thoughts that usually one tries to avoid. Yet in the darkness of night they are familiar friends and they rushed into his mind seemingly from all directions. Attacking him and trying to fill those empty spaces where sleep would rest, now they nestled in and made him face the reality that he did not know what he was doing. Or why. Dissatisfied with all that he had, and he had much, none of brought him pleasure. Long ago the thrills filled the empty spaces of his soul and made life bearable, but while he enjoyed it in the impetuousness of youth even then he knew it was not going to be everlasting.

"What are you doing?" He asked himself, more afraid of the answers he would get. "How can you do that to someone? Why would someone do that?"

It was the why that somehow leaped out at him. Could he kill a stranger? Could anyone? In a mental simulation he could see so many ways and situations that he could. Defending himself, those he knew against some faceless menace it was easy. Point his imaginary gun and pull the trigger. So easy. Hardly worth a thought. Someone he knew? That was harder. It was as if there was an invisible line that he would have to make a conscious choice to cross, once he did everything would be different. He would be different. In ways that he could not comprehend, there would be a different Bruce who would look back at him from the mirror each morning.

Would that be the same Bruce? Different? How different?

The questions came faster and faster at him, from all directions. As he heard himself repeat each one in the silence of the night there was a part of him that was afraid to hear the answer but as he spoke each one there was less power in them.

Part of him wanted to try it, because it was something so difficult. Something hard. Something new.

That same part was also afraid of what he would find once he'd done it. A stranger was easy, but what if there was more. What if he got to know that person, once they became real and not some dreamlike menace, could he still do it. That question haunted him like the dark and he turned it over and over in his mind letting it burn itself into him as he let sleep continue to elude him but by then he lay in bed looking out the glass walls waiting for relief in the dawn.

 

[AndNich123]

Insomnia is a cruel beast. While one may try several things, they are not guaranteed to work. Sleep can remain just out of grasp. The bottle sat on the desk next to the half empty glass of water. Two pills at bedtime as needed. What if more than that was needed? The words on the screen illuminated more than the quiet room she sat in. Her headphones hung around her neck instead of sitting inside her ears. The music played the same song over and over again. She liked it. There was some form of comfort, of inspiration, there within it's melody and words. Still if the headphones were inside her ears, it was as if that song would drown all thought along with the world, and that was not what she wanted. She wanted to have her wits about her as she mulled over the words that sat there staring back at her.

Someone had responded. They had answered her query, and now the choice was hers'. The ball was in her court, as it was, and she had to decide what her next play would be. Would she bow out, run away, and never look back on this opportunity again? Would this moment define her as the kind of person who was afraid of what they claimed they wanted? Would she meet this head on, showing no fear, despite the fact she would feel it welling up in her throat, gripping her heart, squeezing it causing the beats to come faster? Her fingers played with the keys, typing several different replies, only to delete them. The entire time she was making her way home this had been on her mind. A hot shower could not offer any comfort. Thinking she would sleep on it was impossible, as the bottle of pills in front of her was proof of. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed. The answer had come, but was it one she could really go along with? 'Can I really do this,' she asked silently. Pushing back, she rested against the back of her seat, starring at the solid, vertical line. That line would lead the charge of her words across the screen. She shook her head at the fact she was allowing such thoughts to come to mind. That line was just a line. The words would come from her mind or perhaps some place deeper. No matter how she tried to distract herself, she always came back to the same answer. It seemed to have become rooted there in her mind, unchanged and unwavering. With a deep breath, she leaned forward and began to type a simple message.

Tomorrow afternoon. The cafe' on the corner of 4th and Williams Street. Noon. I'll be wearing black.

Now her finger hovered over send. The question had started anew in a sense it seemed. 'Can I really hit send? Can I really send this message to him? Will I send this to him only to go through again tomorrow asking myself if I can really go? I'm being silly. This is ridiculous. This is....what I want. Yes. This is....what I want.' Resolved her fingers pressed send, and her eyes closed slowly. 'I will be there,' she told herself. 'Tomorrow I will get dressed, and I will go.'

Sleep came easier once she climbed between the sheets that rustled as she settled between them. The lights of people who for some strange reason were still out and about in their cars would occasionally light up the only window in her room as they drove past. She would listen to engines until the sound could no longer be heard. Her eyes grew heavy. It was as if she had found some sense of peace now. The decisions had been made, and there was a sense of relief within her, one that now lulled her towards sleep the way a mom holds her new baby and comforts them to sleep. 'That's it,' her mind grasped. 'Comfort.' She knew exactly what she had found and felt, and that was comfort in her decision and in the fact that someone was out there that was willing to give her what she wanted.

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Sleep barely touched him, it was more a daze as he lay back closing his eyes and felt himself float. To be truthful with himself he was nervous, unsure if this was right. Something about it crossed a line that one should never cross. There were some paths that once you took them, you cannot go back. To take a life, anyone's life was so all encompassing the enormity of it seemed to weigh down on him and it was that which kept him from really sleeping. Just as he felt himself drift off again momentarily there was the ping from his phone.

Bruce froze for a moment, knowing that it was a response to his message. It couldn't be anything else. For a stretched out moment he looked at the phone wondering if he could do this and make that step. It was agonizing and it kept getting worse the more he thought about it. Going around and around as he thought out the scenarios, taking the step and taking a life wondering how different he was going to be after. Thinking that anyone who looked at him would know, like a stain on his face anyone who looked him in the eye would know what he had done and the guilt would slowly crush him like a man under a heavy stone.

Reaching out tentatively the sound went off again and again as his hand went for the phone, then pulled back.

Finally as if frustrated with himself and being unable to make a decision he reached out and checked the message.

"Meet her at the cafe at noon," he mused to himself as he read the message for the fourth time. "She'll be in black. How appropriate," he could see a faceless body sitting at a cafe table, a veil over her face as well. Like some spirit that waited for a passerby to notice her, before dragging them down to hell.

Laying back he finally pulled himself up, "Bruce you've done nothing yet. It's new territory and you've done things a hundred time scarier than this." He told himself over and over as he got up and walked to the shower and stood under the water for a long time feeling the nervousness collect in the pit of his stomach turning it in knots. "It's just like any other business arrangement, get the terms and work them out like any deal. Don't fear it, just do it. You've jumped from places, skied down mountains, raced a burning motorcycle and car; this is nothing. Who knows it may just be a joke and at the most you'll waste an hour and a cup of coffee."

Taking time to get ready he dressed more casual than he might usually do, jeans and a black t-shirt. It definitely showed how in shape he was but it gave him a sense of comfort, of normalcy in this whole thing. Not feeling quite ready but also growing curious he took a car down to the street and waited in the car for almost an hour until the time was right. Trying to keep his pace slow felt accusing eyes as he walked through the crowd, down the sidewalk and into the cafe where the sweet smells of baked goods mingled with the bitter scent of roast coffee. Ordering a cup he looked around and let his eyes linger, on the only woman in all black. Ignoring the smile from the barista he walked over to the table and took the seat opposite.

"Afternoon," he began politely suddenly unsure how to start the conversation and knowing that even in the busy cafe with the noise and everyone glued to their phones no one paid them any mind. "I am the one who answered your ad."