LACK OF MAN (part 2)

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BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

 

        What was that? Was that upstairs or down? Too close to be either. Too far to be his door. He stood anyway, wiping his hot hands across his t-shirt and jeans. The weight suddenly brought on a stress his legs weren’t ready for. But more days than he could count found him like this, his mind remembering with an influenced appeal to balance his legs and keep him upright. Something he had never actually given any conscious thought to, but took for granted regardless. He stepped towards the door, his eyes already playing tricks on him. Seeing this in the fictionally yellow door and more trails following his hands while reaching for the door handle.

 

BANG BANG BANG

               

        That was definitely his dwelling’s door. The auditory side effects in his ears made the thumping noises seem far off with an echo-like resonance.  He held for a moment, curious about the other side, but not necessarily wanting to open it. He scanned through his hazed mind to find some possibilities, Vanessa, among other close friends, were not there. She in particular would return in a flurry of anxiety hours later. He finally twisted the knob, the lock resisting his effort. With a small sigh, he slid the deadbolt back into the door and twisted the knob again. The door opened to his landlord, an older half-Martian, overweight, and balding.

               

        At first the interspecies was illegal, most humans found them to be objectionable to say the least. Then more and more were accepted to Earth in an effort to declare a civility to other interplanetary species looking for aide and also avoid possible confrontations from hostile beings. The look of them wasn’t that far off from humans as far as body structure went, reproductive included. It was their faces, eyes and tongues to be specific. The eyes could only be described as a cross between a cat’s and a fly’s. Some had a sheen with others being like a matte-finish with a waffle-like appearance. But all were patterned with an array of greens or yellows brushed with hints of brown, sometimes even purple or blue. The tongue could be extended out up to two feet, the muscle being filled with blood rather than it being curled up and tucked away like humans had previously thought until they dissected one. A half-Martian could take on one or both of these traits, or mutations in this sense, and then on the other side of the spectrum they could end up with mostly human DNA and end up looking like the one standing in the doorway.

“Meesta Hoonta,” he breathed out, the accent sounding like a Russian speaking French. His slick pale skin, wet with perspiration, glistened under the fluorescent lights above.

“Hello, Meishnov,” Hunter replied, secretly sighing, hating these occurrences.

“You play game?” he asked, squinting his round eyes to forced ovals. In turn this made the matte ridges more pronounced, sickening Hunter’s stomach a bit.

“Which game?” he replied.

“No pay game,” Meishnov replied, rubbing his fingers and thumb together.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, actually having forgot about his rent. It being a bigger sum than he wanted it to be from his most recent, and also last paycheck from the job he had just been fired from. The very topic that caused the fight with his girlfriend, complaining about his tardiness. “I’ll write you a check.”

“No check,” Meishnov growled, slicking his lips with his human-like tongue. “Last one jump.”

“Bounce?” he asked, trying not to smirk. The Goo was making it nearly impossible to not.

“Yes yes, bounce,” Meishnov replied. “No check. Paper only.”

“I’m going to cash my paycheck today, the money will be there,” he said.

“Fine,” Meishnov replied, growing more irritated with the druggie occupying a decent apartment. “Write check.”

 

        He sat back down, inhaling some vapored nicotine, relaxing into the couch. The needleless syringe sat next to him. Upon a quick inspection, he found that he may even have enough for two doses. That all depended on whether he could handle what else the day had in store for him. That’s how it went for him. A refreshing escape from the monotonous days during the weekend until the needed escape creeped its way into the nights during the week. He always thought he had this under control never calling it an addiction. That was before a night with his girlfriend who referred to them as an “addicted couple”. This was a week before she stopped doing it and began to barrage him with condescension and withholding her time from him.

               

        Despite this fact, she was still yet to return to his mind. She was there, scratching with the pertaining emotions to get out. The memories they had made were so strong they could be called an entity of their own, only dulled by the Goo’s affection killing power. All of his mind’s references of her were each using their razor sharp nails to pick away at the wall until it crumbled upon itself on its own receding terms.

               

        He decided to have a beer on his way to the kitchen to check for food. He found only three and that the chicken had gone bad, which was annoying to him under the prospect of how to get more of both. It was overly difficult to obtain the job he had just lost. With the bottle hoisted upright, he slowly walked back to the couch, being in comfort the moment he sat.

 

BANG BANG BANG

 

        He let out a sigh, placing the half-empty bottle on the table and picking up the vaporizer for some nicotine on the short walk to the door. Who could it be this time? Hopefully not his landlord again, returning with objections to his check as if he had lied, which he hadn’t. He put a tight hold on the knob. It was cooler than the air around it. Even cooler than the last time he had touched it moments previous. He stopped for a second, still taking in the vibrant alternate and fictitious colours around him. They’d be fading soon. But his mind itself was still set on the temperature of the door-knob, how hot his hand must be to perceive the metallic coolness.

 

BANG BANG BANG

                

        With hardly a thought more he twisted the handle pulling the door open to two friends. Both he had known for a long time dating back to elementary and high school. Sulli strolled in with something bulging out his shirt and sweater, a strange smile on his face. Aside from being an old friend, he had also been an accomplice many times. He had a deep scar implanted on his right cheek, nearly gracing his eye. He had been bragging one night that he could pickpocket someone’s wallet and get away with it despite him having never done it before . Hunter and another friend, Anth, laughed and joked at his expense until he broke down and gave it an attempt. The victim noticed immediately as he managed to remove the wallet. Had he gotten away, been faster, he wouldn’t have that scar, but he became the victim of the wrong citizen as his cheek was slit open by a concealed knife. His friends didn’t notice he was captured until he began to scream, pressed under the weight of his sudden attacker. Anth ran full tilt, managing to free his friend with a hard kick to the man’s jaw.

               

        The second friend brought a smile to Hunter’s face as he saw hers. She was the best looking half-Martian he had ever seen. Not just another old friend, but a friend with amorous benefits that took place in the past. He could never get over her tongue after getting over the initial apprehensions about it. It was her own doing in convincing him one drunken night after everyone had fallen victim to pre-hangover sleep, guiding him into her bedroom after enticing eyes all night. She stepped into his apartment, giving him the usual hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, Leerna,” he said, always wanting her.

“What’s up, sweetie?” she smiled, pulling back but keeping her hands on his shoulders, her eyes only like a cat’s; glossy with beautiful greens and yellows.

“Enjoying my free time,” he chuckled, but knew his situation wasn’t funny.

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Forgot about that.”

“Yup…good times all around,” he replied turning to Sulli. “What’s that?”

“Somethin’ I found in a bunch of broken boxes,” Sulli said, letting a shoebox slide out from under his clothes into this hands before sitting and placing it on the coffee table.

“In a bunch of boxes?” he replied, intrigued by his friends' own interest.

“Yeah, in an alley not far from here,” Sulli said. “On my way to meet, Leer, before coming here, my eye just happen to catch the glint on the silver.”

“Silver?” he replied, assuming it to be a statue or another sellable item. “What is it?”

“Leer?” Sulley grinned, raising his hand towards her.

“Take a look,” she smiled, sitting on the right side of the couch, leaving Hunter in the middle. He sat too, noticing Leerna’s slight shuffle towards him. Sulli opened the box, revealing the metal device. Hunter leaned forward, inspecting it. He knew what it was, how much it was worth, that being the reason why Sulli was excited. Also why Leerna would have a special interest in it.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked.  

 

To be continued...