I rushed outside, my face flushed red. Flakes of snow drifted softly from the heaven. It froze me to the core. I wasn’t sure why I was in such a hurry. Maybe the café was calling my name a little too loudly. I pushed my scarf further up my throat, and continued on my way.787Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWfYB7TsKJN
When I reached the café, I stopped just inside to look around. There was only a few people here, who all seemed preoccupied on their own business. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. Perhaps it was because I just finished the interview with David Grimm. My nerves were all out of whack. Nothing a good coffee couldn’t handle! I then proceeded to order my coffee, which didn’t take long at all for them to get, and went to my usual spot in the back, by the window.
I swished the warm liquid in my mouth briefly before swallowing as I stared out the window. The light snowfall had turned into an angry flurry of flakes. With a small glance upwards, I saw the sky was an even more furious shade of gray. Was there supposed to be a blizzard today? I hadn’t checked the weather lately, but it wouldn’t come as a surprise. It was the middle of January, and I lived in New York City.
There was a constant stream of people on the sidewalks, all bundled up, and with their shoulders slumped. They seemed sad almost, but I knew it was to keep warm. Beyond the steady flow of people walking, there was bumper to bumper cars parked along the road. They all were beginning to accumulate snow on their roofs and windshields. Beyond them even yet, were the loud noises of cars whipping up and down the road. It was just another day, here in the shadows of the skyscrapers.
I continued to blankly stare off, almost going into a meditative trance. Occasionally I would pick up my coffee and take a sip, and then put it back down right on the small ring of moisture that had accumulated on the cool glass table.
"Hey, aren't you that girl, Justice, from The Daily Grimm this morning?" A deep voice spoke. I looked over to see a man of broad shoulders and a tall stature. The kindest word to describe him that was in my vocabulary was intimidating. To answer his question, I simply nodded my head. His dark gray eyes did not match his benevolent smile at all.
"Mind if I sit?" As much as I wanted to tell him to beat it, I also wanted to be polite. So I motioned for him to sit with a wave of my hand to the booth across from me. He eagerly sat down.
"I'm Hank, by the way. A pleasure to meet you." As he said this, he held out his free hand across the table to shake mine, since the other had a cup of coffee. I quickly shook it, to get it over with.
"So, you're into writing, right? Very interesting. Surely, that's not all your into, is it?" I wanted to sigh, but refrained. I had to get out my notebook now to answer him. Stupid complicated questions. When I had my notebook and my pen out, I opened to a blank page, and quickly wrote my response. When I showed it to him, I took this moment to take a sip of my coffee. I basically told him my other interests. Art, photography, and reading.
"Art? What kind of art?" He handed the notebook back, so I could write a response.
"Nothing to fancy. There's a million people better than me. But if I see a pretty picture I think I can draw on the internet, I'll give it a shot. I surprise even myself with what I can do," I had written in response.
"Well, what looks pretty to you?" His gray eyes softened a bit, and he didn't seem exactly intimidating and scary anymore. Hank even tilted his head to the side, giving off the "curious puppy" feeling.
"Animals, abstract, and ancient art. Stuff like hieroglyphics, cave paintings, etcetera."
"Oh? I love ancient art myself. Say, there's a museum all about ancient art not to far from here. How about we go check it out sometime?" There was? Jesus, I needed to get out more.
I really wanted to go, but not with some guy I just met.
"Where's it at?" I wrote, dodging his question. Apparently, though, I didn't dodge it well enough.
"Ah, but that's the fun in taking you. I get to show you where it's at. How about I write down my number, and you can text me whenever to take you, alright?" I couldn't deny that, so I let him write his number on the backside of the cover of my notebook. That concluded our conversation.
The next few days I was swamped with clients, and didn't really think much on it, until today, Sunday. Since I was off today, I had time to think. We could go out with him, the brave half of my mind said. Or, we can be smart and safe, and stay right here, where we belong, the cowardly side that had tendencies to make me want to be a hermit had said. But, staying here would be really boring, since I'm not in the mood for writing or reading. So, when could be a better time than now?
I texted Hank; "Hey, you still want to hit up that museum? I'm free today."
Almost immediately he replied. Which, that kind of disturbed me, but I didn't try to think to much on it. I know a couple times people have texted me while I had my phone in hand, and I ended up texting them back lightning-fast. I'm pretty sure that situation doesn't only happen to me. Does it?
"Sure, meet me between Billy's Bakery and Casey's Thrift Store on Equity Way. You know where that is?"
I know. That's a lot to type in so little time. He must have freaking ninja-fingers, or something. If I could text that fast, I would just type everything I say on my phone, instead of carrying a journal. But that also means I have to trust people touching my phone all the time. Definitely a no-go.
"Sure," I texted back, as I was already heading for the door.
I met Hank leaning against the wall of the Thrift store, smoking a cigarette. When he saw me coming, he smudged the tip into the brick wall behind him, and tossed it on the ground.
"Littering should be a sin," I said, eyeballing the half-smoked stick-of-death laying on the sidewalk.
"Everything comes from the Earth. Perhaps it's best to return it, hmm? Anyways, I know a cool short-cut through a bunch of alleys. Avoids people and traffic. Two things that really don't go great together."
Walking through dark alleys with a stranger? Thanks, brave side of myself. You condemned me to God knows how long of being on edge. But it could always be worse, right? Right. So I gave him a curt nod, and motioned him to lead the way.
We walked a little ways, from one alley, to another in silence, until that was broken by him.
"So. Your serial killer fella'. What do you think ever happened to him?"
I paused, several thoughts passing through my head. First, why was he asking? Second, I am not going to be able to walk and write. That means I have to let someone hold my precious phone. Ugh.
I pulled out my phone, opened up the notes section, and typed my response. "Probably disappeared for awhile, before he continued his murderous rampage elsewhere. I'm not really sure. I don't really want to know either. I just really hope he got what he deserved, or that he's going to get it."787Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMHQesQ3kfO
After he read it, he handed my phone back to me. Immediately, Gollum's voice filled my head. My preeeecioooous. I laughed at my own mental joke. Thankfully, Hank didn't notice that.787Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcONRRw8oaa
"Hmm. You should know that he did suffer. A lot."
Then, things happened at a rate that I simply couldn't comprehend until I found myself in a "sticky situation" much like what I was going to put my pirate captain through in my book. Except in this situation, Fate is the writer, and I am the character who probably won't be miraculously saved. Not this time.
Hank had apparently hidden a gun under his jacket or something, and in one millisecond of finishing his previous statement, he had stopped, whirled around, and had the end of the barrel between my eyes. All I could do was stare in awe and try to connect the dots.
"Don't look so scared, Justice. We're going to have a lot of fun before I finish the job."
ns 15.158.61.8da2
