The small yellow painted cafe was not busy that night. Normally it would house the drunken young people that stumbled freshly out of the bars, but on that night it had only two customers; truckers who had driven far from their homes just to stop by to have pancakes and coffee.
The bell rung and the double glass doors to the cafe opened swiftly. A young woman, a few years short of thirty, panted as she walked in. Her blue eyes studied the little coffee shop. The deep red hair pulled back into a pony tail twitched as she swiveled her head back and forth to study the area. She bit down on her bottom lip before adjusting her gray hooded sweat shirt over her torn jeans. Her eyes met the tired ones of a trucker and a sweet smile grew on her face. "Excuse me, sir, but what town is this?" Her gentle voice sounded like a whisper and had a very thick British accent.
The trucker, dressed in usual flannel with a dirty ball cap shrugged before taking a sip of his coffee. "Bridgewood. Bridgewood Texas." He said in a harsh voice.
The young red head nodded and stepped outside for only a moment. When she returned, a young man was with her. The young man was average build with athletic broad shoulders. His hazel colored eyes stood behind a pair of rounded black wire framed glasses. On his head was thick curly brown hair. A large button up white shirt sat very loosely on his frame with rolled up sleeves. He too wore torn jeans with a pair of brown shoes that were torn and tattered.
The young woman pointed to a mildly clean booth in the right corner of the cafe. Her companion nodded and the two panted as they sat down at the booth, facing each other. The young man ran his hands through his messy curly hair. The young woman planted her frail face into her palms. Both looked as if food and sleep had forgotten them for days.
A forty year old waitress dressed in the usual yellow uniform with white apron walked over to the two with a pot of coffee and two coffee mugs. She smacked on her gum as she approached them. "Are you two alright?" She asked, half caring of the answer.
The young man, who looked to be about sixteen, nodded with a faint smile. "Yes, yes I believe so." He said in a shy timid British voice. "Thank you for the coffee."
The waitress sat down the mugs and poured them full with black steaming coffee. "I'm not sure what kind of trouble you are in, but the first cup is on me."
The woman pulled her face out of her pale palms and smiled to the waitress. "Thank you very much."
With a wink and a smack, the waitress walked away from the booth, leaving the two to discuss their matters.
The young woman looked at the sixteen year old boy and shook her head. "What we really need is a good place to lay low for a while." She folded her fingers together and glanced out the window at the setting sun. "Something cheap and something quick."
The young man slowly took his cup and stared into the black abyss in it. "You know there isn't one, Martha. We are running out of money and Prantex. Without it, he is going to be more trouble to deal with than they are."
Martha, the young red headed woman nodded and closed her eyes. "I know, but if I can find the time, I'll be able to mix some. Perhaps ... And I am speaking loosely here, there is a pharmacy nearby. I could take some equipment and ...."
The young man shook his head and glanced over his glasses to the woman. "No, we both agreed on no more stealing. If we get caught even once, they will find us and that will be the end of it." He took a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. "Besides, I hate the idea of it. Stealing from other people is something we just do not do."
Martha darted her eyes at the young man and popped her knuckles. "We don't have many options, Richard. We are running out of time and expenses just like you said. We can't just fashion ourselves to being civil anymore."
Richard took a jar filled with white sugar and gently poured it into the black abyss in his cup. The sugar sank, disappearing from his view. "I don't want you to think I am ungrateful for what you have done, Martha, but you should have left us at the lab."
Martha stared at him with shock. "What do you mean? You were their personal lab rat! Both of you hated that place."
Richard blinked and nodded. "Yes ... Yes I know, but you wouldn't be on the run like this. You could still be working in your own personal lab. You were just about to get that promotion, dear cousin. Why waste it all on me ... Or rather us?"
Martha slid are hand across the table and gave a gentle grab to Richards right arm. Her blue eyes twinkled at him as she smiled. "Because, you are family. You are the only family I have. They could do whatever they wanted with Bugsy, but with you, I couldn't allow it. I could not allow them to torture you like they did."
Richard nodded again, keeping his eyes down.
Both sat in silence as Martha pulled her hand back and grabbed her mug of coffee. A few seconds passed and Richard took in a breath. "You know, there is ... There is an option that we did not think of."
Martha nodded and pulled the cup to her pink lips. "Which is?"
"My death..." He paused after he said the words and glanced over his glasses to his cousin.
Martha sipped her coffee slowly, staring at her cousin with disbelief.
Richard shifted in his booth chair. "When ... When you think about it ... Martha, I am the only one keeping both of us alive, both Bugsy and I. If I were to die, then Bugsy would die as well and the organization wouldn't be after you anymore. You can get back the pieces of life you lost." He sighed. "I am prepared to make that sacrifice, because no matter how wicked we thick of Bugsy, he is no threat to humanity compared to what that organization is when they find both of us."
Martha slowly lowered her mug, staring at Richard with a harsh glare. A small tear started to fill her left eye and then her right began to fill as well. "You listen to me, I never want to hear those words escape your mouth again, do you understand? You have a chance to be normal. You have a chance to find love, to find hope, to find a life. This isn't the end, Richard."
Richard nodded and licked his lips. "I know and I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm just so ..."
"Tired and hungry. That's why we need to rest and find out our options." Martha said, rubbing the tears from her eyes.
Richard nodded. "Yes ... I need to use the restroom." He pushed himself up and scooted out of the booth. "I'll be right back." With his head lowered, Richard walked to the doors marked restrooms and disappeared into the men’s.
Martha sighed and shook her head as she took another sip. Below her breath, she let out a silent prayer. "I know I never spoke to you before. I know I said I never would believe in such a thing as a god, but I am asking you for help. I need something to help us." A tear fell from her eye onto the table as she lowered her head. "Do it for the sake of Richard. He is a kind soul and a perfect young man." She sniffed and rubbed her nose with her thin hand. "I went to your church as a child and I heard the stories about how you would send angels to protect innocent lives. Please, send one to protect him. I don't care what happens to me." Martha continued to pray, uncertain if she were praying to God or to the devil. She was in such disparate, any help would do. She was so deep in thought that she did not hear the doorbell ring.
The bell rung and the left door swung open. The sound of expensive fashion boots tapped on the floor. The brown leather boots belonged to a twenty five year old woman with golden curly long hair that sat on her rounded shoulders. Her face was round with a slight chubby to the rosy cheeks. Light gray shade sat around her eyes and a thin layer of pink lipstick rounded her thick lips. Her torso had a solid black slimming t-shirt and a brown leather jacket that ended right on her curved hips. Tight fitting jeans and fat brown belt sat on her waist. She grinned at seeing the young red head praying at a nearby booth.
The forty year old waitress stood behind the counter and smacked her gum as she studied the blond. "Can I help you?"
The young woman held a short finger to her lips and shushed the woman. "She is praying." She said with a sarcastic tone. A hint of a lisp rested on her American voice. Her boots tapped again as she approached the booth. She stopped short of Martha and stood beside her.
Martha sighed. "Please ... I don't care what happens to me."
The blond smiled. "Good, because bad things are going to happen to you, Martha Thomas."
Martha darted her blue eyes in shock to the woman. "Selena!"
Selena gave a half grin and rested her palms on the table. "Hey there, cutie. I have been looking all over for you." She swayed her hips and glanced out the window. "What was it? First it was London, then Paris. We had some fun times in Florida all the way up to Louisiana and finally I lost you in Texas. Although, I have to admit, I am a little jealous. Even without your makeup or a shower, you still look very hot." She gave a little playful snarl to the frightened woman.
Martha swallowed hard and licked her lips, pleading in the back of her mind that Richard would not show his face. "You wasted your time finding me then. I have lost Richard. I have no idea where he is."
Selena swayed her head over to Martha with a grin, her hair bounced as she did. "Please, that trick only works on idiots. Do think me an idiot, Martha?" Her pupils stared to leak out black liquid and very quickly both eyes were solid black. "Where is he?"
Martha's blue eyes started to fade into gloomy white. She gripped the edge of the booth and gnashed her teeth. "No...No." Small drops of blood began to run down her nose as she continued to struggle. "No, I won't tell you."
Selena ran her left hand through Martha's red hair, her eyes still pitch black. "Please tell me. I miss that little cutie pie. If you don't tell me, I'll make you do bad things, Martha sweet."
Martha's hand grabbed her coffee mug and slammed it against her own left temple! The black steaming coffee splashed everywhere and covered her frail face with hot liquid. Blood began to drip from the wound on her temple. She gave a scream in pain!
"Hey!" Cried one of the truckers in the cafe. He and the other stood up and started a haste walk over to the two women.
Selena glanced over her shoulder to the two men and snarled. "You two, fight to the death!"
The truckers stopped; their eyes grew into a gloomy white. They turned to each other and started throwing punches at the other!
The waitress gave a shocked look to the fight and then to the blond Selena. "I'm callin' the cops!"
Selena smiled and turned her attention back to the frightened Martha. "No you aren't. You are going to hit your head on that ugly counter until you pass out."
The waitress's eyes grew white and she turned stiff. Then, with three quick hits, the waitress slammed her head down on the counter top over and over again. A small bloody bruise grew on her forehead before she fell onto the floor.
The men continued their fight, struggling with each other as both grasped each other’s throats and stumbled onto the floor. They rolled and kicked.
Selena smiled at Martha. "Well?"
Martha face was covered with cold coffee and blood. "No! You can't take him!"
Selena scoffed. "You two, stop that fighting!"
The suddenly stopped their struggle and laid on the floor next to one another. Their faces were bloody and bruised.
"Did you see where that curly haired boy went off to?" Selena asked, keeping her attention to Martha's eyes.
"He went into the restroom." One man said.
"He left before you arrived." The other said in a hypnotic state.
Selena gave a chuckle. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?" She stared at the weakened Martha. "I guess I wanted to torture you for a little bit." With her short index finger, Selena ran the finger down the forehead and stopped at the tip of Martha's nose. "Don't go anywhere, dear." With that, Selena pushed herself off the table and walked slowly to the restroom doors. Her black eyes twinkled as she tapped on the men’s door. "Anyone in there? Put your peep pees away for a lady coming through." She pushed on the door and disappeared.
Martha struggled to move, but she remained in her seat. Her white eyes just stared at the swinging bathroom door.
The door swung open wide in anger as Selena slammed into it with rage. "Damn it! He isn't in there!"
Martha gave a shocked glare to the words that Selena spoke.
Selena slammed her hand down on the counter top. "Where is he?!" Her full hair bounced in rage as she continued to growl. After a furious moment, Selena ran her hand through her hair and sighed. "Okay, we need to calm down here." She turned to Martha. "You and I are going for a little ride." She darted over to the frightened hypnotized woman. Her hands grasped the frail arms of the red head and pulled her out of the seat.
Martha tried to fight the iron grip of Selena, but with her mind weak and her body tired, she followed the black eyed witch to the twilight outside.
The two walked side by side; Selena held tightly to Martha's right arm and Martha tried to free her mind from the woman's hypnotic spell. Selena's boots tapped wildly on the paved road as Martha looked around wildly. In the distance, a plain black van beamed their headlights to the two girls.
The engine to the van roared alive and slowly rolled forward. The windows to the van were heavily tinted except for the windshield, which in the time of the evening, Martha could not see inside of it.
Selena opened the sliding side door of the van and tossed Martha into the empty van. She held Martha down and glanced to the driver with black eyes. "The twins bolted on us, Billy."
Billy, a twenty year old man with a skin bald head and thick black framed glasses, sat in the driver seat in his black and white suit. He turned and smiled, flashing his yellow and brown tarnished teeth at Selena. His face was covered with acne and sores. His shaky hand slowly handed the black eyed Venus a white plastic strap. "Oh? Found out it wasn't easy keeping tabs on them, did we?" His voice was raspy with an evil snicker.
Selena quickly grabbed the strap from his hand and slipped it around Martha's wrists. As she tightened the plastic hand cuff, Selena's eyes began to lose their black ooze and return back to normal state. "Shut up!"
Billy gave a half grin while hissing with laughter. "I told you he is a slippery bugger. Hence why I put that bug on that bug." He held up a small hand held device. The screen on the device was green with a radar pulse. A red marker blinked as it moved slowly off the screen away from a blue marker that sat still.
Selena stared at the device and finished tying up Martha before snarling at Billy. "Why didn't you follow him?!" Her eyes began to ooze with black.
Billy turned his attention back to the windshield. He pulled out a small little silver dog whistle. Slowly, Billy laid the whistle on his lips and he gave it a gentle blow. Suddenly and violently, Selena held her hands over her ears and screamed.
"Stop that!" Selena growled.
Billy lowered the whistle and placed it into his jacket pocket. "You need to calm down for a moment. Forcing yourself into my mind will only bring you pain. Get in the car."
**********************************************************************
He remembered passing the bell tower earlier that day. He remembered how he marveled over the antique style the tower was built. It stood eighteen stories high and was built out of old fat brown bricks. The bell that sat at the very top was made of brass and looked to have not been used in years. However, out of all the marvels he had about the historic land marker, Richard Thomas did not think he would stand on the very top looking down at the ground.
The cold autumn air passed by him and caused his large shirt to flutter. His large hands were pressed against the cold harsh rock material behind him as he rounded the ledge. His brown shoes scooted very slowly around the tower's foot sized ledge before he stopped to close his eyes tightly. He took in a deep breath of air as he felt the wind scrape across his skin. At the height he stood, sounds of the city flew the air like thousands of screeching hawks. The gray blue sky sat over him as the darkness grew thicker, surrounding him.
"If you can hear me Bugsy, I'm sorry." Richard said in a whisper. He opened his hazel eyes and glanced to the ground. "I...I have to do this...For Martha." The young boy leaned forward for only a fraction of a second and felt fear cover his veins. He quickly leaned back to flatten against the wall, breathing heavily. "Okay ... Okay, we can do this! The world counts on your death, Richard." He took in one last breath before he looked down with wide eyes. "I must die to protect others." On the ground, Richard saw a figure walking around the tower. He could not make out the features of the figure, but he did notice the person look up at him. The pale white face of a man stared blankly at Richard.
Richard shook his head and leaned back. His eyes stared across the horizon. A tear rolled down his cold cheek as he let out a breath. "Not everyone is meant to live." He closed his eyes and slowly let his body lean forward. The ledge from under him gave away and Richard felt the weightlessness as he began to fall.
Suddenly, the young Richard felt his wrist in the iron cold hands of someone. He was thrown through the air backwards and landed on his back at the platform at the top of the tower just under the bell!
His heart raced and he blinked his wet eyes as he gasped for air. He placed his hands on the wooden platform that he laid on to make sure he was not dreaming. He felt like laughing, like crying and a flood of confusion filled his senses.
"You're wrong, my sadden friend." Said a soothing voice from the darkness.
Richard stared at the bell over him. "Wrong about what?"
The soothing voice from the darkness gave a warm boyish like chuckle. "Everyone is meant to live, no matter what the cost."
From his right, Richard heard the tapping of boots walking over to his head. He twisted his head to see a pair of black leather boots, well-polished and both had a silver buckle with a black leather strap on the ankle. His dazed eyes slowly followed the boots to a pair of black leather pants and a tail of a long lush red coat that draped to the ankles of the stranger. Before he could study further, a hand was shoved in his face. The hand was pale with long fingernails that formed into points and were painted black.
"Need a hand?" Asked the voice.
Richard stared at the hand for a long moment. "Am I dead?"
The voice gave a chuckle. "Dead or alive, you are conscious, am I correct?"
Richard nodded to the hand. "I believe so."
"Good, I was hoping that I did not harm you in any way pulling you from thin air as it were." The voice laughed at the joke.
Richard slowly moved his hand to grab the one in his face. The skin of the hand was cold, cold as ice, yet it held his flesh with a gentle embrace. He felt a calm pull of strength as he used the hand to help himself to his feet. He stumbled for only a second before he stared at the stranger in front of him.
The man was no older than twenty and had short golden blond hair. His face was round in nature with a square jaw followed by a manly chin. The skin was pale like paper and the ears to the head, although pale, also had a distinct point at the very top of them. The nose was slightly short and round. The lips were very fair pink with a fatness to the lower lip. The smile on the stranger was warm and inviting with a small dimple in the right cheek, but the pearly white teeth that glistened in the darkness held two mildly long canines that sharpened at the ends. Richard then looked to the eyes of the stranger; the eyes burned with a bright red, almost glowing bright red. He was dressed in black leather pants with a gray button up shirt untucked; a black leather suit vest sat around his lean muscular torso and a black tie with red pen stripes sat tucked away in the vest. On the stranger's broad shoulders sat the long red coat that looked to be made of velvet and was designed to look like a business man's suit jacket. The lapels on the coat were lined with black silk and rounded around the collar. The odd smell of musk eroded from the man.
The stranger glanced to the ground for a moment and then back to Richard. "I wish to say that you were out for a stroll on the ledge, but I fear there are deeper issues." He pulled up his right hand that held an already lit small cigar and placed the cigar on his lips. He gave on long puff and blew out the smoke from his nostrils. "You don't have to tell me your sadness, but I am offering an ear to your troubles." His voice did not have accent to it or any hint to the man's age.
Richard swallowed and nodded. "I was ... I am ... That is ... It's a long story." He gave a nervous chuckle and ran his hand through his curly hair.
The young man motioned with is cigar holding hand and glanced around him. "Well, I love long stories and I have forever to listen, I tell you that much is true." He slipped the cigar in between his teeth and held out his right hand. "Zachary, Zachary Taylor."
Richard glanced to the hand and paused for a moment before shaking it. "Sorry ... Richard Thomas."
Zachary puffed on his cigar and removed his coat. "You look like a man that is freezing." With quick movements, Zachary slipped the coat over Richard's shoulders like a blanket.
Richard felt of the coat over his shoulders and wondered how the man did such a thing so fast. "I'm ... Uh ... That is, thank you."
Zachary removed his cigar with a smile. Smoke flew in the air as he blew smoke out of his nose. "Think nothing of it." He sighed. "Now, onto your story. Troubled love life? Father kicked you out of the house? Trust me, as much as you think you should end your life, there is nothing worth ending something more precious than your own life, Mr. Thomas."
Richard shook his head and glanced to the empty darkness growing around them. "Trust me, it isn't that easy to explain. In fact, I'm not certain you would believe me."
Zachary smiled. "Try me." He held his right finger with a raise to his eyebrows. "Before you begin and I do not want to seem prying or pushy, but since it is getting darker and it is cold out here, would you rather talk some place warmer?"
Richard shook his head again and slowly started to walk pass Zachary to the ledge once more. "No ... No, I must do this."
Before Richard knew it, Zachary was in front of him, moving at a tremendous speed! He placed a cold hand on Richard's chest and gave him a gentle smile with remorse in his red eyes.
"Please, hear me out. You have to understand, even if I don't know your story, I don't feel that I should watch you end your life right before my eyes." Zachary said in a gentle voice.
"But ... The world is at stake ... And Martha." Richard said as he turned his gaze on his dirty shoes. He felt Zachary's hands on his shoulders. Slowly, Richard looked up to Zachary's empathetic face.
"Listen here, dear old boy, there is no need to feel this way." The stranger said.
Richard felt a tears fill his eyes. "How should I feel? All I feel is fear ... And shame ... And ... And ... I am not certain if God should allow such a creature to walk this world of man."
Zachary stared at Richard for a long moment in silence, almost as if he were speechless. Zachary then grinned and held up a finger. "Do you like music?"
Richard lowered his eyebrows in confusion. "Yes, but what does that have to do...?"
"What does a song need?" Zachary asked.
Richard was surprised at the question, but still thought. "Sound, I guess?"
Zachary gave a large smile with a wink. "Ah, but anything can cause sound. Well, even an annoying train whistle has sound. Song is beautiful, so it has something entirely different. It has beat." He then started to make beating noises with his mouth.
Richard looked at the man and wondered if he was in the presence of someone insane. Then, he thought of what Zachary was trying to say. "I understand ... You are saying that music needs a beat." He started to tap his left foot on the wood. "Yes?"
Zachary nodded. "By God I think you understand. Now, place your hand over your chest and close your eyes."
Richard stopped his foot and paused with a confused stare at Zachary. "I'm sorry?"
Zachary became excited and gently grabbed Richard's right hand. He quickly placed it over Richard's chest. "Close your eyes and listen."
Although he thought the man insane, Richard did as Zachary requested. He listened while he was immersed in the darkness.
"What do you hear?" Zachary's voice asked.
Richard shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing ... Only my heartbeat."
Zachary chuckled. "Listen carefully, because you are listening to your own beat."
Richard opened his eyes and saw Zachary standing before him with his own hand over his chest and with closed eyes.
"The heart keeps with the beat; your breathing in the piano and your mind is the lyrics. All that is missing is your voice." Zachary opened his red eyes and smiled at Richard. "God creates songs, not creatures’ dear boy. Each song is different and brings a new skip to his step. Yet, unlike humans, God does not feel the emotions that we feel. He is happy with all his songs."
Zachary placed an arm around Richard's shoulders and pointed to the night sky. Richard marveled at the fast speed Zachary seemed to move.
"Think of an orchestra made of only men, women and children. Each giving their all to the symphony of life. You remove one from the symphony, well, the song starts losing its power." He patted Richard's left shoulder.
Richard glanced at Zachary through the corner of his eye. "Are ... Are you insane, Zachary?"
Zachary laughed. "It would be inhumane to not be insane, dear Richard." He removed his grasp from Richard and started to the trap door in the center of the platform. He pulled on the latch handle and lifted the door. "Come now, you haven't told me your story yet and I won't let you out of my sights until you do."
Richard watched as Zachary started down the ladder hidden by the trap door. His blond head and red eyes remained on the floor. "But ... But I have to..."
Zachary smiled. "Come now, what is a few hours away from your life? I promise, you tell me your story over a meal and I throw in my usual inspirational speeches here and there, and you still feel you need to end your life, I promise to drive you up here myself." He frowned. "If need be, I'll push you off the ledge myself."
Richard looked back to the ledge and then back to the trap door. He stood there, paused and confused for several minutes. "Alright ... But we cannot leave the tower. I do not want to be too far away in case ... In case something happens."
Zachary nodded. "It is decided then. Come on. It is a long night and I could use the company." With that Zachary disappeared down the trap door.
Richard sighed through his nose and started to the ladder. His broken tattered shoes tapped on the metal ladder as he slowly went down the tool. His hands touched the cold metal of the silver painted ladder. He stopped only once to look over the trap door hole to look at the ledge that he once stood on.
"Forget something?" Zachary's voice asked from below Richard.
Richard kept his gaze on the ledge and slowly shook his head. "No ... No, nothing."
After he finished his crawling downwards, Richard stepped onto the concrete floor that sat right under the ladder. The floor led to a long spiral stair case made of iron and brass. The stair case descended all the way down the tunnel like bell tower center.
Zachary shoved his hands into his pant pockets and walked to the edge of the platform like floor. He leaned forward and glanced down to the floor beneath the stair case. "You know something, there is magic tonight. I feel it." He quickly turned to look at Richard. He gave a shiver and smiled. The bright red eyes glowed as Zachary did a small tap dance. "I awoke from a dream." Zachary removed his hand and slowly waved it from his chest to the abyss that the stairs led down to. His faced had turned from smile to smirk. "Granted, I was never good at interpreting dreams. I tend to go with the flow, as they say." He lowered his head just slightly and stared at Richard through his brow. "The dream I had was strange indeed, and I would rather not to get into details, but as I wiped the sleepy slumber from my eyes, I felt ..." He then pointed to the ceiling and lifted his head in a dramatic quickness with calmed eyes. "No! I knew something rather magical was heading my way. Hence why I was out tonight." Zachary held out his hands and waved each one of his fingers. The bright eyes that glowed in the dark pointed to the ground as the strange man smiled. "I felt as if God was using me as a puppet; guiding me as it were."
Richard studied Zachary. He blinked a few times and shook his head. "What are you talking about?"
Zachary, who had his eyes still on the ground, clapped his hands and sighed before he looked up to Richard with a gentle grin. He straightened his back and shoved his right hand into his pant pocket and adjusted his loosened tie with the other. "Well, my dear lad, I am speaking of fate. Do you honestly believe that it was by chance that we should meet tonight?" He blinked and his smile grew wider. "Because I don't have the slightest doubt, Richard."
Richard sighed and his shoulders slumped downward. He slowly removed Zachary's coat and held it out to him. "Thank you for the comfort Zachary, but I feel I must go."
Zachary took the jacket and stared at it for only a moment before he glanced to Richard with confusion. "Did I say something unfavorable? I did not mean to do so."
Richard lowered his head and slowly walked to the opening of the stair case. "It isn't you. I thank you for keeping me from ... Well, doing what I was about to do." His right foot stepped on the first step. "I'm glad to find that there are at least two people that want me alive in this world, even though you have no idea who I am."
Zachary slipped on his coat and followed Richard. "That maybe, Richard, but I know the feeling of sadness. The unbearable sinking feeling that there is no reason to life."
Richard continued to walk downwards on the iron steps as he held onto the cold railing. "Trust me Zachary, there is much more to it than that."
Zachary followed close behind. His dramatic fashion seemed to settle and he became calmer as continued down the stairs. "There is always so much more to the story, Richard. Things are not always as they seem."
Richard shook his head as he continued, his steps grew faster with anger stretched on his face. "You wouldn't understand. You cannot fathom what is wrong with me or my life. Since birth, I was destined to live as a monster!"
Zachary gave a chuckle. "Don't we all? I often wonder how a tree feels."
"What does that even mean?!"
"It means that even trees feel monstrous. Some grow to enormous heights! Others have crooked limbs. Many have smooth bark, whereas others have rough skin. Each might feel monstrous in their own right; we just cannot feel their fears. Yet, they still stand in glory of the almighty God!"
Richard glanced to the man who followed him. His brow lowered as his steps grew louder and faster. "Am I to assume that you are saying God created me this way?"
Zachary shrugged with a frown. "You assumed that, not I." He smiled and lowered his shoulders as he continued to walk down the stairs. "But yes, that is what I am saying."
Richard shook his head and gave a heavy frown. "No god would allow such a creature like me to live and if so, I would never want to meet him."
"Oh come now. That is no way to talk."
"How should I talk then?!"
"More softly, your voice is echoing off the walls and I have sensitive hearing."
Richard lifted his hands to the level of his chest. His brown eyes stared at the palms as small tears rolled into his eyes. "People have died by my hands."
"Redemption is only given when asked, Richard."
Richard quickly lowered his hands and continued his stomping on the stairs. "I have pleaded, cried and asked for forgiveness, but I still feel no comfort. I know fully well that I cannot be redeemed."
"Why is that?"
Richard stopped on the very last step and leaned on the railing. "Because ... Because I know that I will kill again. It is only a matter of time."
Richard slowly turned his head to glance at Zachary. As he did, he felt a cold breeze rush past him at an alarming rate of speed. By the time he had turned to look at Zachary, the red clad wearing young man was nowhere to be found. Richard's eyes darted to the left and then to the right of the stair case behind him, but Zachary was not in sight.
"Then for your sake and those around you, I shall take it upon myself to make sure you don't." Zachary's voice sounded.
Richard quickly turned to his front and saw Zachary standing right in front of him!
Zachary stood with a straight frame and his arms folded behind his back. His pale face was stern and the wide glowing red eyes stared blankly at Richard. "That is a promise and I am a man who keeps his promises."
Richard's once angry face dropped and fell pale with fear. He felt his throat grow dry as he stared at Zachary. "How did ... I didn't hear your feet."
Zachary's stern face let out a small smile. He turned and slowly walked across the floor to the door. His right pale hand reached out and grabbed the brass colored knob of the modern door. "If it is true of what you say, then it was fate that crossed our paths." Zachary slowly turned and glanced at Richard over his shoulder. "However, I still feel there is more to your story. A man who commits himself to his own demise has no ill will towards others. I do not find you to be a liar, however you are not telling me the whole truth." Zachary twisted the knob and opened the door very slowly. "I take fear and threats against humanity very seriously Richard and when you say you will harm someone again, then you can be assured that I will see fit to stop it."
Richard watched with wondering eyes as Zachary opened the door wider and stepped through it.
Zachary folded his arms behind his back once more and nodded to Richard. "My car is waiting and has a warm heater. You shall find comfort in it." The voice was cold like all the boyish warmth it held before had been removed. Zachary narrowed his eyes at Richard. "Follow me." He demanded.
Richard's left foot trembled as it slowly stepped onto the floor. Like a child who angered a parent, Richard's shoulders lowered as well as his head. Very slowly, Richard walked over to Zachary.
Zachary smiled and laid a cold hand on the poor lad's shoulder. "Listen to me very carefully, no harm will come to you. I just do not jest at the idea of death to innocent people. I know full and well that there is no killer in you, Richard."
Richard coughed. "That ... That is where you are wrong ... Zachary." He slowly lifted his head. "You ... You may be right..." Richard's eyes darted to the left, he tried to avoid eye contact with Zachary's red eyes. "I personally ... May not be a killer ... But there is one inside of me."
Zachary smiled and patted Richard's shoulder. "Come now, we need to go." He turned and removed his hand from Richard to start out the door.
From the cold darkness outside the bell tower, a sinister hissing demanding voice was heard. "You are not going anywhere!"
The bell rung and the double glass doors to the cafe opened swiftly. A young woman, a few years short of thirty, panted as she walked in. Her blue eyes studied the little coffee shop. The deep red hair pulled back into a pony tail twitched as she swiveled her head back and forth to study the area. She bit down on her bottom lip before adjusting her gray hooded sweat shirt over her torn jeans. Her eyes met the tired ones of a trucker and a sweet smile grew on her face. "Excuse me, sir, but what town is this?" Her gentle voice sounded like a whisper and had a very thick British accent.
The trucker, dressed in usual flannel with a dirty ball cap shrugged before taking a sip of his coffee. "Bridgewood. Bridgewood Texas." He said in a harsh voice.
The young red head nodded and stepped outside for only a moment. When she returned, a young man was with her. The young man was average build with athletic broad shoulders. His hazel colored eyes stood behind a pair of rounded black wire framed glasses. On his head was thick curly brown hair. A large button up white shirt sat very loosely on his frame with rolled up sleeves. He too wore torn jeans with a pair of brown shoes that were torn and tattered.
The young woman pointed to a mildly clean booth in the right corner of the cafe. Her companion nodded and the two panted as they sat down at the booth, facing each other. The young man ran his hands through his messy curly hair. The young woman planted her frail face into her palms. Both looked as if food and sleep had forgotten them for days.
A forty year old waitress dressed in the usual yellow uniform with white apron walked over to the two with a pot of coffee and two coffee mugs. She smacked on her gum as she approached them. "Are you two alright?" She asked, half caring of the answer.
The young man, who looked to be about sixteen, nodded with a faint smile. "Yes, yes I believe so." He said in a shy timid British voice. "Thank you for the coffee."
The waitress sat down the mugs and poured them full with black steaming coffee. "I'm not sure what kind of trouble you are in, but the first cup is on me."
The woman pulled her face out of her pale palms and smiled to the waitress. "Thank you very much."
With a wink and a smack, the waitress walked away from the booth, leaving the two to discuss their matters.
The young woman looked at the sixteen year old boy and shook her head. "What we really need is a good place to lay low for a while." She folded her fingers together and glanced out the window at the setting sun. "Something cheap and something quick."
The young man slowly took his cup and stared into the black abyss in it. "You know there isn't one, Martha. We are running out of money and Prantex. Without it, he is going to be more trouble to deal with than they are."
Martha, the young red headed woman nodded and closed her eyes. "I know, but if I can find the time, I'll be able to mix some. Perhaps ... And I am speaking loosely here, there is a pharmacy nearby. I could take some equipment and ...."
The young man shook his head and glanced over his glasses to the woman. "No, we both agreed on no more stealing. If we get caught even once, they will find us and that will be the end of it." He took a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. "Besides, I hate the idea of it. Stealing from other people is something we just do not do."
Martha darted her eyes at the young man and popped her knuckles. "We don't have many options, Richard. We are running out of time and expenses just like you said. We can't just fashion ourselves to being civil anymore."
Richard took a jar filled with white sugar and gently poured it into the black abyss in his cup. The sugar sank, disappearing from his view. "I don't want you to think I am ungrateful for what you have done, Martha, but you should have left us at the lab."
Martha stared at him with shock. "What do you mean? You were their personal lab rat! Both of you hated that place."
Richard blinked and nodded. "Yes ... Yes I know, but you wouldn't be on the run like this. You could still be working in your own personal lab. You were just about to get that promotion, dear cousin. Why waste it all on me ... Or rather us?"
Martha slid are hand across the table and gave a gentle grab to Richards right arm. Her blue eyes twinkled at him as she smiled. "Because, you are family. You are the only family I have. They could do whatever they wanted with Bugsy, but with you, I couldn't allow it. I could not allow them to torture you like they did."
Richard nodded again, keeping his eyes down.
Both sat in silence as Martha pulled her hand back and grabbed her mug of coffee. A few seconds passed and Richard took in a breath. "You know, there is ... There is an option that we did not think of."
Martha nodded and pulled the cup to her pink lips. "Which is?"
"My death..." He paused after he said the words and glanced over his glasses to his cousin.
Martha sipped her coffee slowly, staring at her cousin with disbelief.
Richard shifted in his booth chair. "When ... When you think about it ... Martha, I am the only one keeping both of us alive, both Bugsy and I. If I were to die, then Bugsy would die as well and the organization wouldn't be after you anymore. You can get back the pieces of life you lost." He sighed. "I am prepared to make that sacrifice, because no matter how wicked we thick of Bugsy, he is no threat to humanity compared to what that organization is when they find both of us."
Martha slowly lowered her mug, staring at Richard with a harsh glare. A small tear started to fill her left eye and then her right began to fill as well. "You listen to me, I never want to hear those words escape your mouth again, do you understand? You have a chance to be normal. You have a chance to find love, to find hope, to find a life. This isn't the end, Richard."
Richard nodded and licked his lips. "I know and I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm just so ..."
"Tired and hungry. That's why we need to rest and find out our options." Martha said, rubbing the tears from her eyes.
Richard nodded. "Yes ... I need to use the restroom." He pushed himself up and scooted out of the booth. "I'll be right back." With his head lowered, Richard walked to the doors marked restrooms and disappeared into the men’s.
Martha sighed and shook her head as she took another sip. Below her breath, she let out a silent prayer. "I know I never spoke to you before. I know I said I never would believe in such a thing as a god, but I am asking you for help. I need something to help us." A tear fell from her eye onto the table as she lowered her head. "Do it for the sake of Richard. He is a kind soul and a perfect young man." She sniffed and rubbed her nose with her thin hand. "I went to your church as a child and I heard the stories about how you would send angels to protect innocent lives. Please, send one to protect him. I don't care what happens to me." Martha continued to pray, uncertain if she were praying to God or to the devil. She was in such disparate, any help would do. She was so deep in thought that she did not hear the doorbell ring.
The bell rung and the left door swung open. The sound of expensive fashion boots tapped on the floor. The brown leather boots belonged to a twenty five year old woman with golden curly long hair that sat on her rounded shoulders. Her face was round with a slight chubby to the rosy cheeks. Light gray shade sat around her eyes and a thin layer of pink lipstick rounded her thick lips. Her torso had a solid black slimming t-shirt and a brown leather jacket that ended right on her curved hips. Tight fitting jeans and fat brown belt sat on her waist. She grinned at seeing the young red head praying at a nearby booth.
The forty year old waitress stood behind the counter and smacked her gum as she studied the blond. "Can I help you?"
The young woman held a short finger to her lips and shushed the woman. "She is praying." She said with a sarcastic tone. A hint of a lisp rested on her American voice. Her boots tapped again as she approached the booth. She stopped short of Martha and stood beside her.
Martha sighed. "Please ... I don't care what happens to me."
The blond smiled. "Good, because bad things are going to happen to you, Martha Thomas."
Martha darted her blue eyes in shock to the woman. "Selena!"
Selena gave a half grin and rested her palms on the table. "Hey there, cutie. I have been looking all over for you." She swayed her hips and glanced out the window. "What was it? First it was London, then Paris. We had some fun times in Florida all the way up to Louisiana and finally I lost you in Texas. Although, I have to admit, I am a little jealous. Even without your makeup or a shower, you still look very hot." She gave a little playful snarl to the frightened woman.
Martha swallowed hard and licked her lips, pleading in the back of her mind that Richard would not show his face. "You wasted your time finding me then. I have lost Richard. I have no idea where he is."
Selena swayed her head over to Martha with a grin, her hair bounced as she did. "Please, that trick only works on idiots. Do think me an idiot, Martha?" Her pupils stared to leak out black liquid and very quickly both eyes were solid black. "Where is he?"
Martha's blue eyes started to fade into gloomy white. She gripped the edge of the booth and gnashed her teeth. "No...No." Small drops of blood began to run down her nose as she continued to struggle. "No, I won't tell you."
Selena ran her left hand through Martha's red hair, her eyes still pitch black. "Please tell me. I miss that little cutie pie. If you don't tell me, I'll make you do bad things, Martha sweet."
Martha's hand grabbed her coffee mug and slammed it against her own left temple! The black steaming coffee splashed everywhere and covered her frail face with hot liquid. Blood began to drip from the wound on her temple. She gave a scream in pain!
"Hey!" Cried one of the truckers in the cafe. He and the other stood up and started a haste walk over to the two women.
Selena glanced over her shoulder to the two men and snarled. "You two, fight to the death!"
The truckers stopped; their eyes grew into a gloomy white. They turned to each other and started throwing punches at the other!
The waitress gave a shocked look to the fight and then to the blond Selena. "I'm callin' the cops!"
Selena smiled and turned her attention back to the frightened Martha. "No you aren't. You are going to hit your head on that ugly counter until you pass out."
The waitress's eyes grew white and she turned stiff. Then, with three quick hits, the waitress slammed her head down on the counter top over and over again. A small bloody bruise grew on her forehead before she fell onto the floor.
The men continued their fight, struggling with each other as both grasped each other’s throats and stumbled onto the floor. They rolled and kicked.
Selena smiled at Martha. "Well?"
Martha face was covered with cold coffee and blood. "No! You can't take him!"
Selena scoffed. "You two, stop that fighting!"
The suddenly stopped their struggle and laid on the floor next to one another. Their faces were bloody and bruised.
"Did you see where that curly haired boy went off to?" Selena asked, keeping her attention to Martha's eyes.
"He went into the restroom." One man said.
"He left before you arrived." The other said in a hypnotic state.
Selena gave a chuckle. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?" She stared at the weakened Martha. "I guess I wanted to torture you for a little bit." With her short index finger, Selena ran the finger down the forehead and stopped at the tip of Martha's nose. "Don't go anywhere, dear." With that, Selena pushed herself off the table and walked slowly to the restroom doors. Her black eyes twinkled as she tapped on the men’s door. "Anyone in there? Put your peep pees away for a lady coming through." She pushed on the door and disappeared.
Martha struggled to move, but she remained in her seat. Her white eyes just stared at the swinging bathroom door.
The door swung open wide in anger as Selena slammed into it with rage. "Damn it! He isn't in there!"
Martha gave a shocked glare to the words that Selena spoke.
Selena slammed her hand down on the counter top. "Where is he?!" Her full hair bounced in rage as she continued to growl. After a furious moment, Selena ran her hand through her hair and sighed. "Okay, we need to calm down here." She turned to Martha. "You and I are going for a little ride." She darted over to the frightened hypnotized woman. Her hands grasped the frail arms of the red head and pulled her out of the seat.
Martha tried to fight the iron grip of Selena, but with her mind weak and her body tired, she followed the black eyed witch to the twilight outside.
The two walked side by side; Selena held tightly to Martha's right arm and Martha tried to free her mind from the woman's hypnotic spell. Selena's boots tapped wildly on the paved road as Martha looked around wildly. In the distance, a plain black van beamed their headlights to the two girls.
The engine to the van roared alive and slowly rolled forward. The windows to the van were heavily tinted except for the windshield, which in the time of the evening, Martha could not see inside of it.
Selena opened the sliding side door of the van and tossed Martha into the empty van. She held Martha down and glanced to the driver with black eyes. "The twins bolted on us, Billy."
Billy, a twenty year old man with a skin bald head and thick black framed glasses, sat in the driver seat in his black and white suit. He turned and smiled, flashing his yellow and brown tarnished teeth at Selena. His face was covered with acne and sores. His shaky hand slowly handed the black eyed Venus a white plastic strap. "Oh? Found out it wasn't easy keeping tabs on them, did we?" His voice was raspy with an evil snicker.
Selena quickly grabbed the strap from his hand and slipped it around Martha's wrists. As she tightened the plastic hand cuff, Selena's eyes began to lose their black ooze and return back to normal state. "Shut up!"
Billy gave a half grin while hissing with laughter. "I told you he is a slippery bugger. Hence why I put that bug on that bug." He held up a small hand held device. The screen on the device was green with a radar pulse. A red marker blinked as it moved slowly off the screen away from a blue marker that sat still.
Selena stared at the device and finished tying up Martha before snarling at Billy. "Why didn't you follow him?!" Her eyes began to ooze with black.
Billy turned his attention back to the windshield. He pulled out a small little silver dog whistle. Slowly, Billy laid the whistle on his lips and he gave it a gentle blow. Suddenly and violently, Selena held her hands over her ears and screamed.
"Stop that!" Selena growled.
Billy lowered the whistle and placed it into his jacket pocket. "You need to calm down for a moment. Forcing yourself into my mind will only bring you pain. Get in the car."
**********************************************************************
He remembered passing the bell tower earlier that day. He remembered how he marveled over the antique style the tower was built. It stood eighteen stories high and was built out of old fat brown bricks. The bell that sat at the very top was made of brass and looked to have not been used in years. However, out of all the marvels he had about the historic land marker, Richard Thomas did not think he would stand on the very top looking down at the ground.
The cold autumn air passed by him and caused his large shirt to flutter. His large hands were pressed against the cold harsh rock material behind him as he rounded the ledge. His brown shoes scooted very slowly around the tower's foot sized ledge before he stopped to close his eyes tightly. He took in a deep breath of air as he felt the wind scrape across his skin. At the height he stood, sounds of the city flew the air like thousands of screeching hawks. The gray blue sky sat over him as the darkness grew thicker, surrounding him.
"If you can hear me Bugsy, I'm sorry." Richard said in a whisper. He opened his hazel eyes and glanced to the ground. "I...I have to do this...For Martha." The young boy leaned forward for only a fraction of a second and felt fear cover his veins. He quickly leaned back to flatten against the wall, breathing heavily. "Okay ... Okay, we can do this! The world counts on your death, Richard." He took in one last breath before he looked down with wide eyes. "I must die to protect others." On the ground, Richard saw a figure walking around the tower. He could not make out the features of the figure, but he did notice the person look up at him. The pale white face of a man stared blankly at Richard.
Richard shook his head and leaned back. His eyes stared across the horizon. A tear rolled down his cold cheek as he let out a breath. "Not everyone is meant to live." He closed his eyes and slowly let his body lean forward. The ledge from under him gave away and Richard felt the weightlessness as he began to fall.
Suddenly, the young Richard felt his wrist in the iron cold hands of someone. He was thrown through the air backwards and landed on his back at the platform at the top of the tower just under the bell!
His heart raced and he blinked his wet eyes as he gasped for air. He placed his hands on the wooden platform that he laid on to make sure he was not dreaming. He felt like laughing, like crying and a flood of confusion filled his senses.
"You're wrong, my sadden friend." Said a soothing voice from the darkness.
Richard stared at the bell over him. "Wrong about what?"
The soothing voice from the darkness gave a warm boyish like chuckle. "Everyone is meant to live, no matter what the cost."
From his right, Richard heard the tapping of boots walking over to his head. He twisted his head to see a pair of black leather boots, well-polished and both had a silver buckle with a black leather strap on the ankle. His dazed eyes slowly followed the boots to a pair of black leather pants and a tail of a long lush red coat that draped to the ankles of the stranger. Before he could study further, a hand was shoved in his face. The hand was pale with long fingernails that formed into points and were painted black.
"Need a hand?" Asked the voice.
Richard stared at the hand for a long moment. "Am I dead?"
The voice gave a chuckle. "Dead or alive, you are conscious, am I correct?"
Richard nodded to the hand. "I believe so."
"Good, I was hoping that I did not harm you in any way pulling you from thin air as it were." The voice laughed at the joke.
Richard slowly moved his hand to grab the one in his face. The skin of the hand was cold, cold as ice, yet it held his flesh with a gentle embrace. He felt a calm pull of strength as he used the hand to help himself to his feet. He stumbled for only a second before he stared at the stranger in front of him.
The man was no older than twenty and had short golden blond hair. His face was round in nature with a square jaw followed by a manly chin. The skin was pale like paper and the ears to the head, although pale, also had a distinct point at the very top of them. The nose was slightly short and round. The lips were very fair pink with a fatness to the lower lip. The smile on the stranger was warm and inviting with a small dimple in the right cheek, but the pearly white teeth that glistened in the darkness held two mildly long canines that sharpened at the ends. Richard then looked to the eyes of the stranger; the eyes burned with a bright red, almost glowing bright red. He was dressed in black leather pants with a gray button up shirt untucked; a black leather suit vest sat around his lean muscular torso and a black tie with red pen stripes sat tucked away in the vest. On the stranger's broad shoulders sat the long red coat that looked to be made of velvet and was designed to look like a business man's suit jacket. The lapels on the coat were lined with black silk and rounded around the collar. The odd smell of musk eroded from the man.
The stranger glanced to the ground for a moment and then back to Richard. "I wish to say that you were out for a stroll on the ledge, but I fear there are deeper issues." He pulled up his right hand that held an already lit small cigar and placed the cigar on his lips. He gave on long puff and blew out the smoke from his nostrils. "You don't have to tell me your sadness, but I am offering an ear to your troubles." His voice did not have accent to it or any hint to the man's age.
Richard swallowed and nodded. "I was ... I am ... That is ... It's a long story." He gave a nervous chuckle and ran his hand through his curly hair.
The young man motioned with is cigar holding hand and glanced around him. "Well, I love long stories and I have forever to listen, I tell you that much is true." He slipped the cigar in between his teeth and held out his right hand. "Zachary, Zachary Taylor."
Richard glanced to the hand and paused for a moment before shaking it. "Sorry ... Richard Thomas."
Zachary puffed on his cigar and removed his coat. "You look like a man that is freezing." With quick movements, Zachary slipped the coat over Richard's shoulders like a blanket.
Richard felt of the coat over his shoulders and wondered how the man did such a thing so fast. "I'm ... Uh ... That is, thank you."
Zachary removed his cigar with a smile. Smoke flew in the air as he blew smoke out of his nose. "Think nothing of it." He sighed. "Now, onto your story. Troubled love life? Father kicked you out of the house? Trust me, as much as you think you should end your life, there is nothing worth ending something more precious than your own life, Mr. Thomas."
Richard shook his head and glanced to the empty darkness growing around them. "Trust me, it isn't that easy to explain. In fact, I'm not certain you would believe me."
Zachary smiled. "Try me." He held his right finger with a raise to his eyebrows. "Before you begin and I do not want to seem prying or pushy, but since it is getting darker and it is cold out here, would you rather talk some place warmer?"
Richard shook his head again and slowly started to walk pass Zachary to the ledge once more. "No ... No, I must do this."
Before Richard knew it, Zachary was in front of him, moving at a tremendous speed! He placed a cold hand on Richard's chest and gave him a gentle smile with remorse in his red eyes.
"Please, hear me out. You have to understand, even if I don't know your story, I don't feel that I should watch you end your life right before my eyes." Zachary said in a gentle voice.
"But ... The world is at stake ... And Martha." Richard said as he turned his gaze on his dirty shoes. He felt Zachary's hands on his shoulders. Slowly, Richard looked up to Zachary's empathetic face.
"Listen here, dear old boy, there is no need to feel this way." The stranger said.
Richard felt a tears fill his eyes. "How should I feel? All I feel is fear ... And shame ... And ... And ... I am not certain if God should allow such a creature to walk this world of man."
Zachary stared at Richard for a long moment in silence, almost as if he were speechless. Zachary then grinned and held up a finger. "Do you like music?"
Richard lowered his eyebrows in confusion. "Yes, but what does that have to do...?"
"What does a song need?" Zachary asked.
Richard was surprised at the question, but still thought. "Sound, I guess?"
Zachary gave a large smile with a wink. "Ah, but anything can cause sound. Well, even an annoying train whistle has sound. Song is beautiful, so it has something entirely different. It has beat." He then started to make beating noises with his mouth.
Richard looked at the man and wondered if he was in the presence of someone insane. Then, he thought of what Zachary was trying to say. "I understand ... You are saying that music needs a beat." He started to tap his left foot on the wood. "Yes?"
Zachary nodded. "By God I think you understand. Now, place your hand over your chest and close your eyes."
Richard stopped his foot and paused with a confused stare at Zachary. "I'm sorry?"
Zachary became excited and gently grabbed Richard's right hand. He quickly placed it over Richard's chest. "Close your eyes and listen."
Although he thought the man insane, Richard did as Zachary requested. He listened while he was immersed in the darkness.
"What do you hear?" Zachary's voice asked.
Richard shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing ... Only my heartbeat."
Zachary chuckled. "Listen carefully, because you are listening to your own beat."
Richard opened his eyes and saw Zachary standing before him with his own hand over his chest and with closed eyes.
"The heart keeps with the beat; your breathing in the piano and your mind is the lyrics. All that is missing is your voice." Zachary opened his red eyes and smiled at Richard. "God creates songs, not creatures’ dear boy. Each song is different and brings a new skip to his step. Yet, unlike humans, God does not feel the emotions that we feel. He is happy with all his songs."
Zachary placed an arm around Richard's shoulders and pointed to the night sky. Richard marveled at the fast speed Zachary seemed to move.
"Think of an orchestra made of only men, women and children. Each giving their all to the symphony of life. You remove one from the symphony, well, the song starts losing its power." He patted Richard's left shoulder.
Richard glanced at Zachary through the corner of his eye. "Are ... Are you insane, Zachary?"
Zachary laughed. "It would be inhumane to not be insane, dear Richard." He removed his grasp from Richard and started to the trap door in the center of the platform. He pulled on the latch handle and lifted the door. "Come now, you haven't told me your story yet and I won't let you out of my sights until you do."
Richard watched as Zachary started down the ladder hidden by the trap door. His blond head and red eyes remained on the floor. "But ... But I have to..."
Zachary smiled. "Come now, what is a few hours away from your life? I promise, you tell me your story over a meal and I throw in my usual inspirational speeches here and there, and you still feel you need to end your life, I promise to drive you up here myself." He frowned. "If need be, I'll push you off the ledge myself."
Richard looked back to the ledge and then back to the trap door. He stood there, paused and confused for several minutes. "Alright ... But we cannot leave the tower. I do not want to be too far away in case ... In case something happens."
Zachary nodded. "It is decided then. Come on. It is a long night and I could use the company." With that Zachary disappeared down the trap door.
Richard sighed through his nose and started to the ladder. His broken tattered shoes tapped on the metal ladder as he slowly went down the tool. His hands touched the cold metal of the silver painted ladder. He stopped only once to look over the trap door hole to look at the ledge that he once stood on.
"Forget something?" Zachary's voice asked from below Richard.
Richard kept his gaze on the ledge and slowly shook his head. "No ... No, nothing."
After he finished his crawling downwards, Richard stepped onto the concrete floor that sat right under the ladder. The floor led to a long spiral stair case made of iron and brass. The stair case descended all the way down the tunnel like bell tower center.
Zachary shoved his hands into his pant pockets and walked to the edge of the platform like floor. He leaned forward and glanced down to the floor beneath the stair case. "You know something, there is magic tonight. I feel it." He quickly turned to look at Richard. He gave a shiver and smiled. The bright red eyes glowed as Zachary did a small tap dance. "I awoke from a dream." Zachary removed his hand and slowly waved it from his chest to the abyss that the stairs led down to. His faced had turned from smile to smirk. "Granted, I was never good at interpreting dreams. I tend to go with the flow, as they say." He lowered his head just slightly and stared at Richard through his brow. "The dream I had was strange indeed, and I would rather not to get into details, but as I wiped the sleepy slumber from my eyes, I felt ..." He then pointed to the ceiling and lifted his head in a dramatic quickness with calmed eyes. "No! I knew something rather magical was heading my way. Hence why I was out tonight." Zachary held out his hands and waved each one of his fingers. The bright eyes that glowed in the dark pointed to the ground as the strange man smiled. "I felt as if God was using me as a puppet; guiding me as it were."
Richard studied Zachary. He blinked a few times and shook his head. "What are you talking about?"
Zachary, who had his eyes still on the ground, clapped his hands and sighed before he looked up to Richard with a gentle grin. He straightened his back and shoved his right hand into his pant pocket and adjusted his loosened tie with the other. "Well, my dear lad, I am speaking of fate. Do you honestly believe that it was by chance that we should meet tonight?" He blinked and his smile grew wider. "Because I don't have the slightest doubt, Richard."
Richard sighed and his shoulders slumped downward. He slowly removed Zachary's coat and held it out to him. "Thank you for the comfort Zachary, but I feel I must go."
Zachary took the jacket and stared at it for only a moment before he glanced to Richard with confusion. "Did I say something unfavorable? I did not mean to do so."
Richard lowered his head and slowly walked to the opening of the stair case. "It isn't you. I thank you for keeping me from ... Well, doing what I was about to do." His right foot stepped on the first step. "I'm glad to find that there are at least two people that want me alive in this world, even though you have no idea who I am."
Zachary slipped on his coat and followed Richard. "That maybe, Richard, but I know the feeling of sadness. The unbearable sinking feeling that there is no reason to life."
Richard continued to walk downwards on the iron steps as he held onto the cold railing. "Trust me Zachary, there is much more to it than that."
Zachary followed close behind. His dramatic fashion seemed to settle and he became calmer as continued down the stairs. "There is always so much more to the story, Richard. Things are not always as they seem."
Richard shook his head as he continued, his steps grew faster with anger stretched on his face. "You wouldn't understand. You cannot fathom what is wrong with me or my life. Since birth, I was destined to live as a monster!"
Zachary gave a chuckle. "Don't we all? I often wonder how a tree feels."
"What does that even mean?!"
"It means that even trees feel monstrous. Some grow to enormous heights! Others have crooked limbs. Many have smooth bark, whereas others have rough skin. Each might feel monstrous in their own right; we just cannot feel their fears. Yet, they still stand in glory of the almighty God!"
Richard glanced to the man who followed him. His brow lowered as his steps grew louder and faster. "Am I to assume that you are saying God created me this way?"
Zachary shrugged with a frown. "You assumed that, not I." He smiled and lowered his shoulders as he continued to walk down the stairs. "But yes, that is what I am saying."
Richard shook his head and gave a heavy frown. "No god would allow such a creature like me to live and if so, I would never want to meet him."
"Oh come now. That is no way to talk."
"How should I talk then?!"
"More softly, your voice is echoing off the walls and I have sensitive hearing."
Richard lifted his hands to the level of his chest. His brown eyes stared at the palms as small tears rolled into his eyes. "People have died by my hands."
"Redemption is only given when asked, Richard."
Richard quickly lowered his hands and continued his stomping on the stairs. "I have pleaded, cried and asked for forgiveness, but I still feel no comfort. I know fully well that I cannot be redeemed."
"Why is that?"
Richard stopped on the very last step and leaned on the railing. "Because ... Because I know that I will kill again. It is only a matter of time."
Richard slowly turned his head to glance at Zachary. As he did, he felt a cold breeze rush past him at an alarming rate of speed. By the time he had turned to look at Zachary, the red clad wearing young man was nowhere to be found. Richard's eyes darted to the left and then to the right of the stair case behind him, but Zachary was not in sight.
"Then for your sake and those around you, I shall take it upon myself to make sure you don't." Zachary's voice sounded.
Richard quickly turned to his front and saw Zachary standing right in front of him!
Zachary stood with a straight frame and his arms folded behind his back. His pale face was stern and the wide glowing red eyes stared blankly at Richard. "That is a promise and I am a man who keeps his promises."
Richard's once angry face dropped and fell pale with fear. He felt his throat grow dry as he stared at Zachary. "How did ... I didn't hear your feet."
Zachary's stern face let out a small smile. He turned and slowly walked across the floor to the door. His right pale hand reached out and grabbed the brass colored knob of the modern door. "If it is true of what you say, then it was fate that crossed our paths." Zachary slowly turned and glanced at Richard over his shoulder. "However, I still feel there is more to your story. A man who commits himself to his own demise has no ill will towards others. I do not find you to be a liar, however you are not telling me the whole truth." Zachary twisted the knob and opened the door very slowly. "I take fear and threats against humanity very seriously Richard and when you say you will harm someone again, then you can be assured that I will see fit to stop it."
Richard watched with wondering eyes as Zachary opened the door wider and stepped through it.
Zachary folded his arms behind his back once more and nodded to Richard. "My car is waiting and has a warm heater. You shall find comfort in it." The voice was cold like all the boyish warmth it held before had been removed. Zachary narrowed his eyes at Richard. "Follow me." He demanded.
Richard's left foot trembled as it slowly stepped onto the floor. Like a child who angered a parent, Richard's shoulders lowered as well as his head. Very slowly, Richard walked over to Zachary.
Zachary smiled and laid a cold hand on the poor lad's shoulder. "Listen to me very carefully, no harm will come to you. I just do not jest at the idea of death to innocent people. I know full and well that there is no killer in you, Richard."
Richard coughed. "That ... That is where you are wrong ... Zachary." He slowly lifted his head. "You ... You may be right..." Richard's eyes darted to the left, he tried to avoid eye contact with Zachary's red eyes. "I personally ... May not be a killer ... But there is one inside of me."
Zachary smiled and patted Richard's shoulder. "Come now, we need to go." He turned and removed his hand from Richard to start out the door.
From the cold darkness outside the bell tower, a sinister hissing demanding voice was heard. "You are not going anywhere!"
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