The following comes from prof:
“Let’s not go out tonight. I want you all to myself”
-“heh, well yaknow I’m really not sure I’m comfortable with this whole thing..heh heh”
Catherine plopped down on him, pinning his arms down.
“Are you saying you don’t want to be with me Vincent? Is there someone else?”
“oowhhehehe NO noooooo, of course not hehee, I just think this is moving too fast, and I uh, respect you too much, so I don’t want this to be uh just about sex, ya know? Weee should really get to know each other better, so, we should go out and uh talk and stuff”
“I see what this is about Vincent”
“Eh..heh heh..do.. you do?”
-“Of course silly boy, I know you better than anyone”, she whispered in his ear.
“You just want to get me drunk so I’ll do that…for you again”
“Do what, er, exactly?”, Vincent gulped, scanning her body.
-giggle-“Don’t make me say it out loud Vincent. It’s embarrassing… But don’t worry, I’m already ready for absolutely -anything- even…that…
“Oh ooh my”, Vincent let out as Catherine giggled and bounced above him.
-
The bar was eerily quiet. A call-in bartender was at the bar, polishing unused glasses. The place was nearly empty and devoid of activity except for the news broadcast and a single patron, Justin, leaning on the bar.
“More news on the rash of inexplicable deaths occurring lately in the area, Daniel Kirsch, heir to zaibatsu corporation was found dead this morning. Police note that he and his long-time girlfriend have been having difficulty lately and that Daniel had been lashing out at friends and family. They are unsure whether it has any relevance on the case, but does reinforce that this is indeed a related event. As of now, all the discoveries have been involved in relationship problems and questionable behavior. Coming up, we speak with Giorgio Tsoukalos about his “otherworldly” theory regarding the strange deaths…
“that sounds like me”, Justin muttered to himself.
“no relationships left to speak of…nobody left to help..nobody to help me. Maybe it’s my turn tonight..
He paused for a bit, contemplating the reality unfolding before him.
“Another whiskey, straight up with a lime, please”
“of course”, the young man replied.
-
The officer Morgan sat parked outside Vincent’s apartment building. He was taking a hit of his inhaler as he looked to the upper windows leading to Vincent’s room. He was thinking to himself how he could be seeing two shadows in the window, yet when he went up and put his ear to the door, he could only hear Vincent talking to himself.
He reached in a small brown bag for his favorite comfort food, doughnuts.
“I just don’t understand. There’s something really wrong going on here.”
He had read some reports that it seemed like each of the deaths occurring recently had seemed like foul play due to one fact. Every time, it seemed like they had been entertaining someone the night before, yet no witnesses had ever seen anyone leaving the scenes. He knew what he had to do…stay up all night watching his front door. His hand rested on the coffee cup resting in the cup holder.
Midnight came and went, and in the morning, Vincent never left the building, and neither had anyone else. He went up to Vincent’s room to check in. He tried the handle. Locked.
He knocked on the door three times. No answer. He knocked again.
“Vincent, this is detective Morgan. Open your door or I will open it for you”, he called out, fully aware that he was himself lying to scare Vincent into releasing the lock. He pressed his ear to the door again. There were no sounds of movement.
“Vincent, open your door now, by order of the state”, he yelled, pounding on the door with his fist. Again, there were no sounds of movement.
“I hope I’m still fit enough to break down a door”, contemplating to himself. He drew his personal pistol.
“I’m kicking the door in. Stand back”. With a heave, he kicked. It rattled. He kicked again, and again…and then again. Doors opened in the hall.
“Hey keep it down over there asshole”, someone cussed.
Morgan continued kicking the door. More rattling..it was coming loose. Then he heard the frame stretch at the force of a blow. One more solid kick should do it. The door flung open, woodchips splintering through the image that appeared before him. What was this? A spaceship? It was pointed up toward the roof and some light smoke was coming from beneath. He heard a low rumbling. Lowering his gun, he realized it was about to launch. WTF? He ran out and pulled a fire alarm planted on the wall, and ran up the stairs to successive floors bellowing for people to move out.
People started flooding out of their doors in night-robes and some in a towel wrap. They made their way outside. As he stepped out of the main doors he saw all the people gathered outside talking amongst themselves. A rumbling started to build that he could hear from even three floors down.
“Move back, move back” he gestured, running down the steps. He turned just in time to see fire shoot out of the windows on Vincent’s floor and he fell back. The entire wall collapsed, and the rocket shot up through the roof into the early morning haze.
“well now I’ve seen everything”.
A young woman rushed to his side to help him up. She was in just a skimpy towel.
“That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.” She held him in his arms. He looked at her oddlong and thought to himself that she was exactly his type. Then he looked back at the smoke trail leading off into the light blue beyond.
“Why don’t you come upstairs and I’ll fix you something”, she cooed in his ear.
The game is over. Mafia win.
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