Chapter 35: Chapter 34: The Plot Finally Begins

“Why are you still wearing that suit?” 

Jessica and I stood in front of the same Wendy’s from last time. The bouquet of flowers that I brought with me now rested in the passenger seat of Jessica’s car. Once again, I wore the same suit as before, but this time, I’m not as embarrassed about wearing it like the last few times. I just kind of grew numb to the stares and now I relish the smiles that come from the mouths of the people eating here.

However, there is one person here not smiling, that being the hostess of the night herself. Jessica scowled at me, almost like I’m an insignificant bug. I take high offense to that, but I’ll be the bigger man and let it go. After all, I’m an adult here and must act appropriately.

“Can you grow up for once?”

Exactly, Miss Jessica. I am growing up. I’m going to a very important meeting with you and I dressed up for the occasion. Meanwhile, you are in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts that don’t even hug against your hips. I deserve to see that magnificent ass shake as an award for me acting so grown up. Don’t look into the irony of that statement. Just take it as is at face value.

“Are you actually going to say anything or are you just going to stand there taking up space? I won’t take you to her if you don’t answer me.”

“Okay, that’s where I draw the line.” I drop the adult act and return to monkey. In fact, I return to something far worse than monkey. I return to teenager. “When did you start using blackmail on me like that?”

“Ever since you abandoned us.”

“I thought you said you forgave me for that. Remember?”

She nodded. “I did forgive you. I just gave you the answer you wanted.” She opened the door and stepped in, not even keeping it open for me. Something tells me she still hasn’t truly forgiven me.

I walk in and we approach the counter. A new person was at the counter, and as soon as they saw me, a chuckle rose to their throat. They had to cover their mouth to stifle the laughter rising before they went on a laughing tirade. Despite me saying that I became numb to the embarrassment, I could feel my cheeks heat up. 

We place our orders and head to the same seat as last time. We sit down, and an uncomfortable silence falls upon us. It’s the dastardly silence that consumes all in an uncomfortable situation. 

However, I can use this silence to my advantage. I’ve been preparing for every possible question she could ask about Harmony. Where was she yesterday? She was at home sleeping. What about all the other days? She was at home sleeping. Where was she on the night of January 2nd, 1945? She wasn’t even born yet. I have all the answers.

“Harmony is no longer a suspect in our case.” 

And now I can toss aside all those hours of planning outside the window. Of course, she’ll drop all her suspicions when I have all the fucking answers ready and prepared. Of fucking course.

“So, what is there to talk about?” I ask.

There’s only one thing we can talk about now that we’re here, and I’m not appreciative of that. Why is it that life decides to hand me the short stick whenever it feels like it?

“So, remember that time when you-”

“You know what?” I say before Jessica could even dare finish that sentence. “Why don’t you talk about your past? Why does it always have to be me?” 

I finally said what I’ve been thinking for quite a long time. It’s always been “Remember that one time I did this” or “Remember when you said that” and never once have we talked about her. So, I’ll ask her something that’s been on my mind for a while. It’s been bothering me for quite some time, but I just let it stray out of my mind. Today, however, I’ll use it as leverage.

“Remember how you used to be in high school? Remember how you used to be so much more upbeat and cheerful? You used to be the sophomore captain of the cheerleaders, all bubbly and talkative and artificial and shit, but now look at you. What happened?”

Jessica smiled, but she didn’t dare look at me. Her face nodded toward the ground, her eyes closed and arms crossed as if she was waiting for this moment. 

“You said it yourself. I was artificial. I was merely a pretender.”

“Yeah, but you forget, I also knew the real you, too. You weren’t as optimistic or overly positive as people believed you to be, but you still had a semblance of niceness in you. Now you’re grumpy and emotionless and all you can focus on is the past.”

Jessica laughed, and her head slowly began rising up. “That’s funny coming from you. Out of everyone I know, you focus more on the past than anyone. Remember all those kids you bullied just for some cheap thrills and laughs? Oh, I remember that. After all, I was one of them.”

“Yeah, and I’ve buried my demons and am trying to move past all that. I’m no longer that dumbass teenager that I was before the incident.”

“The incident?” Jessica raised her voice as if I had insulted her personally. “It was way more than an incident. It changed my life forever.”

“And mine too. Do you think I’d be where I am without that happening?”

“And do you think I’d be the same woman as back then when I’ve seen more dead bodies, grieving families and friends, and criminals in a week than you have your entire life? I’ve seen three people dead this week. I’ve visited all their families to try and gather any shred of evidence to pinpoint a potential killer while they’re in tears, begging me to bring their son back home even though we already told her that her son is never coming back and she just needs to…”

Jessica covered her mouth as if she were about to say something that she’d regret even in death. I could only sit stunned silent as tears washed down her cheeks and I realized I just made a critical miscalculation. Way to go, me, bringing up people’s trauma left and right like it’s just a normal day. Let’s go for three and mentally scar Karina next. 

How do I fix this now? She never showed signs of her having any trauma over her past cases, but now that I think about it a bit more, of course she would. She just never showed it cause going around the city brooding all the time isn’t the best mood to be in. 

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“Let’s just finish the night up. I’m having a headache.” Jessica said, rubbing her temple.

I nod, and right then, our order comes out. We take it and leave, not talking in the slightest and driving to our next destination with an air of hostility hanging all around us.

***

After the last event of the night, I walked back home again. It’s much better than sitting with Jessica for an extended period of time after everything that transpired in that Wendy’s. Not to mention, I can even get some exercise in that’s not just training my right arm for the day there comes a legitimate beat the meat championship. I’d win at least second place if such an event ever came.

I chuckle to myself, not because that joke was funny, but because I manage to still have the energy in me to crack jokes like that after everything. That’s my whole shtick though, the wise cracking guy supporting the main character of the story. At least, that’s how I see myself. People are the protagonists of their own story, but in my story, me being the protagonist is the worst idea that could come to mind.

What trait do I have that would make me a good protagonist? I’m lazy. I’m a gamer. I’m a perverted degenerate. I’m everyone that mother’s look at then quickly tell their children to never grow up to be. Good on them too. Those mothers are leading their child down a much better path than I took.

I have goals, but they’re so grand in spectacle that the only way I can feasibly achieve them is if I become God, or this world fades into dust and leaves only a few left alive. If the latter happens, however, is that really me accomplishing my goals? I want to make everyone of the current world smile, not the people of a ruined world.

I look around me. Nobody is walking the streets tonight. They’re all inside, resting up for their bright futures tomorrow. They have so much to look forward to that they have better things to do than to walk out at night. 

Cars pass by rather frequently, however. It’s these people that have lost all semblance of what life is really about. Not only are they out at night, but they’re using their cars to get to their destination as quickly as possible, do their job, then leave and sleep. Or who knows, maybe they have such fulfilling lives that they can afford to be out during the day and night. If someone can manage to do that, then they must really have it figured out. Or maybe my entire monolog is pointless cause I have no clue what the hell I’m talking about. I just started thinking something that sounds somewhat profound and rolled with it. 

As I’m looking around, I notice that I’m in the same place that I met Talia. The streets are the same, the buildings are similar, but then again everything starts blending together when living in a city for long enough. Everything begins to look the same since I’ve seen them so many times over.

I have this hunch in my stomach that tells me this is the same place. As I’m walking down the street, I spot the same alleyway that I met Talia at. How do I know it’s the same? I honestly can’t say, but I just know it is. Is it instinct, or something deeper that’s helping me remember this location specifically? Why can’t I have this level of memory when I want to remember something I said two minutes ago?

I walk to the alley, hoping that Talia is still down there. I want to speak to her again and replenish the smile that she most likely forgot to ignite. If she does have a frown on her face, I’ll find a way for her to smile again.

I hear something click down the alley. It sounded like someone used their phone to take a picture of something. The way the alley lit up for a brief period also backed that story up. Did Talia manage to find a phone, or is someone else down there for some inexplicable unknown and most likely very shady reason? Still, I walked over to the alley and poke my head down the alley.

I peer down the narrow space and I could see a silhouette of someone standing over a heap of trash. Why were they taking a picture of trash to begin with? Is there something valuable there that someone threw away not knowing its actual price? 

They took another picture again, and my eyes widened when my vision cleared for the first time. I want to live in a world filled with comedy and avoid tragedy as much as possible. However, one thing I never expected was that I could live in a horror.

In the one second that the flash was active, I saw what was truly happening. A woman with black hair stood over a dead body and was steadily taking pictures of it. I didn’t see how they died, but I could see the pool of blood leaking out of the wounds. 

I stood at the entrance of the alley, shocked beyond all reason. What am I witnessing? Is this what hell is like? Am I in the depths of hell that not even Satan himself would dare go to? 

The woman took another picture, and the body was in full view again. Seeing it once more sent a horrified gasp up my throat, and with no will of my own, I yelped and fell on my ass. My arms and legs shook so wildly that it would seem like it was winter out here. 

I try to stand back up, but as soon as I stare upward, I freeze. All the oxygen leaves my body and my body refuses to calm down. To an outsider, it would look like I was having a minor seizure from the amount I was shaking. 

Her cold, dead gaze looked down at me, and I knew it right then and there. I’m not returning home. Harmony, whatever happens to me, just know this. I never once abandoned you.

Suddenly, the woman’s dead gaze shifted. Her hard, uncaring frown turned into the widest grin imaginable. Her grey eyes masked by the darkness of the sky lit up like a doctor injected life juice into her veins. Her entire demeanor changed from dead woman standing into woman freaking me the fuck out with her crazy ass smile.

“I finally get to meet you.” She whispers to herself.

“What?” 

That’s all I can say before she kicks my head. The entire world turned black as I give up on living through this moment entirely.

***

“Ty, when are you coming home?” I whisper to myself as I’m rubbing myself to the sight of a still image of two girls scissoring each other while the perspective character watches. “Please, I’m hungry.”

He still hasn’t returned for a while. Am I just going to have to make do with my fingers for the night? Maybe, but damn, am I getting hungry. Please, Ty. Come home.

***

As I’m driving through the streets of Juxten, thinking about all that Ty said, my headache grew even more fierce. What’s going on with my head? Is something really dangerous about to happen, or even worse, has something already happened?

I don’t know, but I really just need to rest. I have a busy day tomorrow. Whatever happens, Ty, just know that I don’t blame you. I hope you return home safely and can live a remarkably boring future.

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