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Geoffry's legs were starting to cramp up from remaining motionless for so long. It was to the point now where the pain exceeded even the hunger that had been present for as long as he could remember. Still, he was reluctant to move. His memories were no longer able to guide him, so feelings had taken on greater importance. Remaining motionless feels important.
Finally the agony became too much, and Geoffry steadied himself on the handrail as he slowly shifted positions. This fire escape, like most in the poor sections of the city, had long since started to rust in the humid New York summers. Some landlord, no doubt looking to cut costs, had ordered the metal painted over without first having it scoured clean. Of course the paint had continued to flake off over the years requiring yet more coats. The latest coat had been applied fairly recently, resulting in something that felt smooth, despite an underlying texture of decay.
Geoffry suppressed a shiver as he continued to stroke the pitted metal and whispered silently to himself. “It's not true. So you woke up in a bare room with no memories of your past. A knowledge of how to remain undetected while watching someone doesn't have to mean that you're a cold-blooded assassin. Imastious saying something is so doesn't necessarily mean it's the truth.”
It was a conversation he'd had with himself several times, but he couldn't escape the feeling that there was something of truth to the other man's cold, casual allegations. If so, then his amnesia was nothing more than a thin finish that hid a corroded soul.
The longer Geoffry sat pondering in the darkness, the more the night took on an oppressive, heavy feeling. Most of the streetlights in this section of town had long since stopped working, leaving only the harsh light of neon signs in the storefront shops below, to wage a losing war against the darkness.
The feeling that he was somehow exposed, that someone was watching him as intently as he was watching the dark window before him, grew to such an intensity, that Geoffry was having difficulty not looking over his shoulder. Finally a faint sound from the other side of the glass signaled the return of the apartment's tenant.
Sliding carefully back out of sight, Geoffry breathed a sigh of relief as the barely-visible front door swung open and lights came on.
The twenty-something black man who swung the door shut behind him matched the picture that Imastious had given Geoffry. Every detail was perfect, right down to the heavy gold jewelry and eyes that seemed to say that he no longer blinked at doing the kinds of things that would give most people nightmares.
A wave of something that felt like anticipation crept through Geoffry, flushing his body with strength at the same time it sickened him. The mind forgets but the body remembers?
Geoffry's abrupt decision not to act, to put off the execution for at least a few more hours, calmed his mind, but not his body. He found himself shaking as he quietly climbed down to the bottom of the fire escape, dropped to the ground and disappeared into the night.
Geoffry covered several blocks in a slow walk before he realized why he kept looking reflexively over his shoulder. Even that had become instinctive to whoever or whatever I was. Suddenly the meandering routes he had picked over the last few days made more sense too. What better way to tell if someone is tailing you than to turn a corner and see who follows.
Carefully steering clear of a large pile of garbage that left his nose burning, Geoffry ended up a few inches from what had to be one of the cleaner windows in that part of the city. Pausing before the storefront, Geoffry examined the reflection peering back at him through the protective bars. The young man that stared back was someone he would have called unremarkable other than the fact he was hard-pressed to put an age to himself. It was a young face, but one that could have belonged to a late teen or even someone in their late twenties. A casual perusal of the billboards and posters that seemed to populate every visually prominent piece of real estate in the city showed a male ideal that fluctuated between massively over muscled and nearly effeminate, so there was a chance that the high cheekbones and slender frame in the window's reflection would be considered handsome. The real question was what exactly the troubled depths of his eyes concealed.
The seemingly ever-present hunger drew Geoffry's thoughts back to more mundane things. Most of the restaurants are long since closed. Maybe a corner store is still open? So far eating hasn't done anything to calm the hunger.
Concentrating as he was on finding something to eat, Geoffry almost ignored the faint sounds coming from the alley he was passing. Something seemed to tug him towards the noise though, so Geoffry turned and walked carefully into the near darkness of the alley. Geoffry's heart sped up when he got far enough around the large dumpster to see two sloppily-dressed teens who'd cornered a trembling, middle-aged Latina against a chain-link fence. Geoffry was still trying decide what to do next when one of the boys backhanded the woman, knocking her to the ground.
The other teen reached down and opened up the woman's purse only to start swearing as he found it nearly empty. Before either boy could contemplate further action, Geoffry made up his mind and ghosted between them and their victim.
“Leave her.” The words came out with such a cold indifference that a part of Geoffry was startled. Then again I feel numb.
The two teenagers seemed startled by the inhuman feel to Geoffry's voice. They stood motionless for several seconds, before springing into action as Geoffry had somehow known they would.
The attacker behind Geoffry lashed out with a wild-looking punch that, for all of its inelegance, still probably would have hurt whoever happened to be on the receiving end. Only it never landed. Geoffry's body seemed almost to react on its own, throwing his right leg back and up, driving his heel into the teen's ribs with a grating crunch that flung the mugger backwards.
The second teenager threw a slightly more controlled punch a split second before his friend crashed into the building's brick wall. Again Geoffry reacted without thinking, reaching up with his left hand to pluck the approaching fist out of the air.
A sharp tug on the captured wrist pulled the second youth off balance, and brought him stumbling towards Geoffry. Before the attacker could recover, Geoffry's right hand darted out and clamped over the teen's throat, picking him up and slamming him into the wall opposite his fallen friend.
The force of the blow was sufficient to cause the boy's head to rebound off of the wall with a hollow thud. For a split second Geoffry worried that he'd killed the would-be mugger, but the steady pulse surging through the carotid artery just beneath his right index finger said otherwise.
Geoffry meant to turn and check on the woman, but found himself unable to look away from the still figure pinned against the wall. The boy hung limply, motionless save for the rise and fall of his chest, and the almost imperceptible movement of the blood just beneath Geoffry's finger.
Maybe it really isn't visible, maybe I'm just imagining it, but I can't seem to see anything else right now.
The hunger seemed to take on a life of it's own, causing Geoffry's hand to tighten ever so slightly. The teen's pulse seemed to become more powerful as the pressure increased. The hunger seemed to demand more, to demand that Geoffry clamp down harder. He found himself squeezing harder and harder until suddenly he realized he had cut off the supply of blood to the youth's brain.
The pulse beneath Geoffry's finger hammered away erratically as the heavily-beating heart tried to force blood past Geoffry's hand, up to the oxygen-starved brain, and he felt his trembling upper lip curl away from his teeth as he was nearly overcome by the desire to sink his canines into the teen's throat.
Nausea suddenly crashed through Geoffry's body, leaving him feeling cold and filthy as he realized what he had wanted to do. What kind of person would do something so savage?
Shaking slightly, Geoffry slowly lowered the teen until the unconscious body was resting motionless on the concrete.
Thoughts of running, of fleeing the scene, suddenly seemed distant as the physical effects of alternate waves of desire and disgust fully caught up with Geoffry, and he collapsed to the ground. Even worse, the hunger-only slightly muted by Geoffry's revulsion had acquired a new eagerness.
The sudden urge to empty his stomach was too much. Shaking as badly as he was, he barely managed to lean over far enough to avoid soiling himself as heaves racked his body.
Geoffry couldn't have said how long he sat there, all but kneeling in a pool of his own vomit, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, or maybe minutes, before he felt a tentative hand on his shoulder.
Again reflexes Geoffry didn't remember training took over, causing him to pull the hand downwards as his right hand swept up in what he would later realize was a killing blow to the throat.
A terrified voice managed to pierce the haze surrounding his mind just soon enough for him to pull the blow.
“Lo siento, Senior. Lo siento, nada mas queria saber si estaba bien.”
The fear yes, but where is the revulsion? Surely she finds what I almost did abhorrent.
A wave of dizziness crashed through Geoffry's body. As he released the poor woman's hand, he found himself collapsing onto the concrete again.
The fear was still foremost on the Latina's face as she cautiously approached Geoffry again, but there was also something that looked like concern.
“Esta bien senior?”
When Geoffry responded with nothing more than a blank look, the woman tried again.
“You are ok?”
Geoffry opened his mouth to respond and realized his eyes were being drawn to the pleasantly dark skin of the woman's neck, skin that was stretched tautly over the muscles and veins to form the most delicate of protective barriers.
Geoffry's gorge rose once again as he followed his thoughts to their logical conclusion, and he weakly waved the woman away. “I'm fine, please leave me alone.”
The woman straightened up, but remained where she was. Suddenly Geoffry was angry.
Doesn't she realize what I could do to her? It is all I can do to control myself, to ignore the hunger, and she just sits there like she wants to be killed.
Swatting feebly at the woman Geoffry finally lost his temper. “Go away or I'll kill you!”
The concerned eyes that had been staring at Geoffry widened; he realized he'd been shouting, but before he could decide whether or not to apologize, the woman turned and ran away.
The rest of the trip back to the apartment where he'd first awakened was little more than a blur. The hunger hadn't left, and Geoffry sensed that it was somehow vital he get off of the streets as soon as possible.
After stumbling up the stairwell and finally arriving at his door it took Geoffry three tries to get his pair of locks open. Unfortunately the place he'd hoped would serve as a kind of refuge was already occupied.
Imastious sat casually on the sofa, dressed as always in black, featureless clothes that supported a high, tight collar.
Why do they make me think of churches and sermons? Why can't I place the resemblance? Maybe his clothing is a predecessor to whatever I'm thinking of?
The gaunt face looking up at Geoffry was relaxed. It combined with Imastious' bearing to convey the picture of a man at ease, but the illusion failed for anyone who looked closely enough at his eyes. The half-closed eyes examining Geoffry seemed to be windows to a soul that was completely amoral, utterly willing to sacrifice anyone or anything in the pursuit of basic self interest.
He seems so old. I can't point to any one specific thing, but he seems ancient beyond understanding. Maybe the eyes? Could a young person could have lived long enough to sink to those levels?
Those cold eyes measured Geoffry now, taking in the slight shaking of his body as well as his vomit-stained clothes.
“You've not yet completed the task you were given.”
Geoffry thought about lying, claiming that he had indeed killed his target, but before he'd even had a chance to decide one way or another Imastious cut him off.
“Don't bother denying your failure, or rather your lack of attempt. I already know that he's still alive.”
For a split second Geoffry wondered if Imastious was bluffing, but the emotionless eyes staring back at him seemed somehow all knowing. Instead of making the useless protest he'd been considering, he simply remained silent.
Imastious shook his head slightly. “Like it or not you will learn that I am to be obeyed. You have nowhere else to go, no one else who can protect you if your true nature is revealed.”
Imastious suddenly struck, springing to his feet, he grabbed Geoffry by the throat and slammed him against the wall exactly as Geoffry had done to the mugger a short time before.
Geoffry tried to fight back, lashing out with a largely ineffectual kick, but Imastious' slender limbs and emaciated frame possessed such incredible strength it was like trying to fight back against a vise.
Still moving almost faster than Geoffry could follow, Imastious grabbed Geoffry's left wrist, snapping something closed over it and then spinning the younger man around violently and doing the same thing to his right wrist.
By the time Geoffry realized he'd been handcuffed, Imastious had thrown him to the floor and manacled his feet.
A strange sense of pressure seemed to be building inside Geoffry's mind, one that clouded his thoughts, making it difficult to reason or respond to what was happening. As the pressure grew, it seemed that Geoffry lost time. One moment he was bound and gagged on the cold floor, the next thing he knew he was in excruciating pain, his back and arms seemingly on fire. It seemed now that a knife traced an erratic, bloody path down his body, starting at his cheek, near his right eye, and then moving in fits and starts down to his right hand.
When the knife started working its way around the thumb on Geoffry's right hand he finally passed out.