Thursday, February 7, 2013

What's in a Name

No, I didn't take the week off.  Below, for your entertainment, is an original short story I submitted for a class involving two character whom you're likely to see more of.  Beyond minor changes, which I'll update as needed, it's relatively finished.  As always, it's uncensored and may be found offensive. (like I'd have it any other way) Love to hear some feedback, positive or negative.
Enjoy,
The Teej

Approximately 3,600 words
What’s in a Name?
         

As his eyes began to open and the room came to focus, that same foolish grin returned, sparking life into his face once again.  A mixture of blood and sweat ran down his brow, though his eyes told that he wasn’t put out in the least.  His hands remained bound behind him, tethered to the chair.  A single overhead lamp was all that lit the room, apart from an occasional beam, presumably from headlights, which penetrated the smoked glass on the opposing side of the room.  It wasn’t much, but enough to know he wasn’t alone.
“Thought you’d be the big hero then?  Save the damsel in distress?”
“Something like that.  How ya doing over there princess?”  Silvia remained silent in the corner in a similar fashion as himself.  Though it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was annoyed.
“Honestly, I’ve got to know, what was your plan?”
He raised a single brow as he spoke, “Still trying to figure that out, but it’ll likely involve the element of surprise; and you wouldn’t want me to spoil that now would you?”
A fist was drawn, somewhere from behind, striking him squarely.  More blood spouted from his mouth.
“Not a fan of surprises then?”  He spoke with a chuckle.  “You must be one of those privileged, only child twats.”  Another fist appeared, this time nearly knocking him out of the chair.  “Struck a chord, eh?  Lemme ask you something.  What the fuck is your plan?”
This time a fist came from in front allowing the light to kiss the face of the interrogator.  Sid Benton, a mere pawn in a much larger drug trade, though recently had built a reputation through some ambitious actions.  Fortunately he wasn’t the brightest bulb.
“I could take a liking to beating your ass all night long.  Sadly, I got a bit of a schedule to keep; so I’ll have to be brief.  How do you know this bitch?!”  Sid was slowly losing his composure.
“If it’s the female you’re referring to,” he made a fruitless attempt to catch her eye, “have you seen how fit she is?  How do you not know her?  Not trading for a bit of cock now, are we?”  Silvia couldn’t help but giggle at the sound of that.  Sid awarded this with a punch to the kidney, knocking the breath out of him.  Blood seeped through his teeth.
“As you can see, your acquainted little whore has gotten herself into some trouble with some powerful individuals.  Why you brought yourself into any of it, I don’t know.  What I do know is that someone is going to pay for these ‘damages.’  Seeing how things are, that might have to be in blood.”
Sid made his way over to where Silvia remained lying.  Snatching her arm, he dragged her across the loose boards to join the collective.  She didn’t make much of a fuss, why bother, it’d only result in a beating.  Despite appearing rather bruised and ruffled herself, she remained a sight for sore eyes.  Her hair, typically straight and a deep black, now resided in a tangled mess complimenting the blood red lipstick and sludicuous light blue dress; both obviously not hers.
“Then again, there are other ways you might be able to pay.”  Yanking Silvia to her feet, Sid took a large whiff of her neck.  A yellow toothed grin sprawled across his face.  “You know he’s right, you are quite lovely.  I might have to break you in myself.”
It’s reasonable to state that any other female, any other person, would passionately revolt in disgust or cower in fear from the large and threatening man clenching her tightly.  Her face, however, remained expressionless, as to not give him the satisfaction.  Meanwhile she surveyed her surroundings.  His breath was hot and heavy in her ear as he spoke.
“What do you say beautiful?”
“I think if she could muster a voice from your putrid pit, she’d say ‘help!’”  The blow to the head which corresponded with this comment ceased to prevent him from hysterics.
It was then that Silvia made eye contact.  From beneath Sid’s arm, she spoke composed and calm.  “You know, it’s quite ambitious of you to keep us here under the enforcement of all but three men.”
Quick as a cat, Silvia swung around managing to plant an elbow just below the ribcage.  Sid retaliated and reached for his knife with no avail as she brought him down over her shoulder; simultaneously snatching the knife in order to slash her shackles.  Her captive companion wasted not a second to spring into action.  With the precious seconds Silvia had bought him, he accomplished rocking forward to his feet before ascending into a backflip, dragging the chair for the ride.  Landing on the man behind him, presumably the one with the threatening fists, they both took a tumble.  As the chair hit the floor, one of the front legs came down hard, piercing and pinning the fisted fellow’s hand to the floor.  The chair then promptly buckled upon impact with the ground, freeing the misguided miscreant from his former bondage.  He couldn’t help but smirk as he sat up; taking a glimpse at the wreckage caused.  With her newly freed wrists, Silvia tossed Sid’s knife, barely passing above her ally’s head, allowing it to plunge deep into the last gang member’s neck.  You could hear him choke as he slumped to his knees; drowning in his own fluids.
“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Silvia’s eyes widened, “I didn’t mean it!  I aimed for his shoulder.”
“Glad it wasn’t your first.  Last thing I need is you sobbing over some poor sop.”  He flashed a grin as he motioned towards the individual now collapsed on the ground, helplessly grasping for life, in the corner.  “Happy to see me?”
A look of irritation couldn’t fully mask her true feelings.  How else could she feel?  Thrice her “guardian angel”, as it were, appeared out of nowhere, assisted her in preventing certain peril; asking nothing in return.  “What on earth are you doing here?!  You show out of nowhere and get yourself captured?  You know we could’ve died!”
“Duly noted, and I could ask the same about you.”  Sliding a lighter from the pocket of the man he was now sitting on, he lit a cigarette; gesturing to Silvia who politely refused.  “Seeing as how there’s likely to be more on the way,” he rose and began towards her, taking in a long drag, “I’m guessing we can’t afford time to chit-chat; or anything else for that matter.”  Flashing a suggestive look, he knelt down to extinguish the fag atop Sid’s greasy head.  Life jolted within him.  Sid swore.
“Listen you little shit, as you can imagine, we don’t have much time.  In efforts to make this as painless as possible, just tell me who you’re working for.”
A wad of mucus and saliva spewed from Sid’s mouth, slapping against his interrogator’s cheek.  “You cunts can forget about—”
Silvia took the liberty of bringing her heel down upon his hand, twisting her ankle upon impact.  A scream belted from Sid, gradually morphing into a long string of swear words.
“I’ll give you one last chance you bastard.  You aren’t smart enough to be able to work alone.  Tell us who you’re working for, or I swear to god I’ll make sure you walk with a limp for the rest of your shithole life.”
“Then again, you could always join your friend over there.”  Silvia pointed in the direction of the man who’d surely bled out by now.  At this point, she’d enjoy nothing more than breaking Sid in the most painful way she could imagine.
“Fuc—”
Light footsteps echoed from below which brought an abrupt end to the quaint interrogation.  A single blow to the head and Sid was out cold once again.  This was followed by a fierce kick from Silvia, shattering his knee.  He’d forever walk with a limp.
“Don’t give me that look, you heard his intensions.  The fucker’s lucky we’re letting him live.”  The sound of impending footsteps dawned closer.  “I don’t suppose you arrived with an exit strategy?”
“Window leads to the roof.”
Silvia Shrugged, “They’re going to follow.”
“Aye,” he retorted, gathering a slim blue trench dark blue trench coat and a black top hat, his own bizarre style, which had been carelessly tossed aside, “but you ever been chased on the rooftops?”  With a grin he dove out the window.
With the footsteps approaching nearer and nearer, what choice did she have?  Tarring off a portion of blue fabric which hung lopsilly, Silvia, likewise, charged on through.  Balancing on the ledge she made her way to the fire escape which provided easy access to the roof.  The night air was brisk, but comfortable.  Though a relatively full moon filled the sky, it provided only temporary illumination as it dodged passing clouds.  A lit cigarette awaited her at the top.
“Dressed as you are, I’d say you were ‘the Mad Hatter.’”  She spoke with a short smile.
I’ve been called worse.”  A cloud of smoke expelled from his lungs.
“Well ‘Hatter’, now what?”
Below you could just make out the discovery of their fallen foes.
“You know that warehouse over on 27th and Maple?”
Hesitantly, she nodded.
“There’s an abandoned apartment building one street over; roof access; completely off the grid.  Meet me there in fifteen, yeah?”
Reinforcements were making their way outside.
“What about you?”
“Someone’s got to lose these tossers.”  Before she could react, he swooped in and gently kissed her on the cheek.  Shouting began in the background.  He took a step back, and with a tip of his hat, “Best get a move on sweetheart.”
Stunned for all but a second, she was just out of earshot when she heard a commotion; urging their aggression as he began to flee.  She paused for all but a moment to see him take off, flawlessly traversing the urban landscape.  A cocky little freak, but he was valiant and as skilled as he claimed.  There was no need to worry about him.  She turned and pressed on towards the apartment building.
It took some convincing, but the door finally swung ajar.  Silvia made her way down a flight of stairs which led to a much larger stairwell.  Taking the first door she found, she was welcomed with silence.  The room was bare; then again, perhaps that was an understatement.  Beyond the appearance of a former penthouse, all the dividing walls had been removed.  That wasn’t what made the room so barren though.  The place was surprisingly clean.  Especially considering the place had a reputation of being abandon for roughly six years.
Taking a closer look, she noticed a lonesome wooden chair sulking within the shadows.  Though the windows were quite grand indeed, moonlight was hardly capable of accomplishing the task of illuminating the room.  Choosing to provide it some company, Silvia took a seat, awaiting his arrival.  Though she made rather good time, it wouldn’t be much longer.
Impatiently eyeing her watch, ten minutes had passed, and her once carefree attitude soon grew into worry.  He said fifteen minutes.  Did I go to the wrong place?  Which floor should I have waited on? Surely he managed to elude his stalkers.
Silvia had finally talked herself into approaching the rooftop once again when the sound of footsteps announcing the arrival of a hurried individual.  Unsurprisingly the footsteps belonged to a familiar figure who busted into the penthouse, swearing.
“Em-Aych!”
“That sticking then?” He spat out between breaths. “Rotten luck luv, but they’re coming.”
Silva, alarmed by the news, jumped from her chair, “Who? Who’s coming?”
It took a few seconds, but he finally was able to compose himself.  “I couldn’t shake them.  Maybe one or two along the way, but they’re too organized.  Kept appearing.”
“And you brought them here?!”
“We can take them.”  The sound of footsteps began.
“How many are there??”
He simpered, “We can take them.”
The pattering from above sounded of rain on the rooftop, lightly shaking the room below.  Silvia shot him a gaze of worry that was only met with the same response, “we can take them.”  His level of confidence was warring on her as the footsteps beckoned closer.  She didn’t know what to expect apart from the fact that there was no running from this one.  He drew a stance and she did the same.
The door nearly flung off its hinges as their opponents wasted not a second to file in through the only apparent entrance.  The group came to a stall on the opposing side of the room, awaiting an order of sorts.  A sizable lot, each looking fiercer than the next; out of breath, you could feel the warmth being given off upon entry.  Just then, a clammy man, a sopping bandage over his hand, staggered into the penthouse.
“That’s them!  That’s the f-f-fuckers!  They’re the b-b-bastards that did this to my h-h-hand.”  With that he was escorted out of the room.  Only when his safety was ensured did the mob make movement to strike.
“You know you pricks could’ve knocked or something.  Luckily we’re descent or else this’d be awkward and all.”  Once again, ‘The Hatter’ searched for a reaction from Silvia that was nothing more than a sarcastic expression.  “Perhaps that was a tad presumptuous of me.”
Silvia piped up, cutting him off, “you know we haven’t got all day.”  Like clockwork, she set the gears in motion and the mob sprang to life.
Outnumbered, the peculiar duo stood back to back.
“Twenty says I bag more than you.”
She didn’t have time to respond.  Ducking a right hook, she jabbed a knee, piercing the gut of her off-balance foe before sending him hurtling towards a group of thugs.  
‘Em-Aych’ dodged an uppercut; then countered the left with an open palm to the man’s temple.  Removing his hat and tossing it to an approaching attacker, he flew in direction of the distracted, both feet leading.  Recoiling with a backwards roll, he caught his hat in time to absorb a roundhouse kick to the chest.  
Silvia escaped another fist, snapping back with her own.  Taking advantage of the opportunity, she vaulted over her doubled over victim, grasping another opponent with her ankles, taking him down backwards; allowing inversion and gravity to preform most of the work.  Now on the ground, rolling to the right prevented a devastating curb stomp.  Silvia returned the favour with a slide tackle.  Rising to her feet and testing the sternum of her target, her eyes darted to her confidante.
Rebounding from a nearby wall he unleashed a spinning kick, nailing a chasing assailant in the neck.  He steadily fell to the cement while ‘the Hatter’ made course for the shoulders of another.  Unable to gain the necessary momentum he landed with a roll; launching his foot forward upon release it planted profoundly within the torso of the would-be assassin.
Shuffling backwards to catch himself, he was welcomed by the presents of Sil, who appeared like a shadow; taking the assist by thrusting a reverse elbow, inviting the bastard to the floor.
“Oye!  That one counts as mine,” ‘Em-Aych' hollered while somehow attempting to block the jabs of some spikey haired freak.
Staring in confusion she almost lost her head to a chair flying in her direction.  “Are you seriously counting?!”  Silvia got interrupted due to a charging opponent, easily thwarted by the ever clever slight step to the left.
“You cow!  Yeah, I saw you.” He was having a hard enough time dueling the creep with the spiked hair. “That was my favourite chair; your ass is mine now!”
Breaking free from his stance he aimed for the wall; gliding up and circumventing his competitour.  Upon returning to the ground ‘The Hatter’ preformed a ‘trust kick’ disguised within a formal bow.  Spiked hair, attempting to catch up, was caught off guard while ‘Em-Aych’ simply glanced up with a grin.  The chubby fellow who had thrown the chair was now confronting Silvia.  By this time that was across the room, thus he began his pilgrimage by gracing into a sprint.  It took a cartwheel to the right to avoid a foe blocking his path.  “Sil,” his voice, surprisingly composed, “may I have this dance?”
Silvia was puzzled as ever by this request, even as the overweight man drew near.  The oddity of this individual knew no bounds.  She didn’t have much time to contemplate what was asked though, for it was then that he grabbed her arm, beginning to swing.  She caught on quick, executing a kick with precision.  Masterfully, ‘The Hatter’ assisted her down into his arms and sent the girl, toes pointed, at the stunned oaf as they spun back around.  Silvia, with her footing lost, tumbled to the ground, landing on her backside while he leapt on to the assailant of furnishings.
Feeling dizzy from the spontaneous rotating, Silvia didn’t perceive the roundhouse kick steadily directing its way towards her head.  As they collided her head rocketed forward.  A thin line of blood emanating from her lips led the way.  Painfully, she resurfaced, collecting herself and jumping to her feet.  The man before her was wearing sunglasses.  He must have been blind, for there continued to be no internal lights within the room.  Beyond being dusk, the moon, serving primarily as the only light-source, swayed in and out of the clouds.
Now perhaps it was the blow to the head, or maybe her quaint companion was rubbing off on her.  Regardless, it was fairly peculiar when Silvia beamed, “You’ve got be kidding me?  How many points if I smash this asshole’s sunglasses on his face?”
‘Em-Aych’ looked up, delighted.  One last punch and he was completely disinterested with this fallen enemy.  “The hell’s he wearing sunglasses for?”
The foolish thug took his eyes of Silvia for a second, providing more than enough time to perform a trip kick.  Disorientated as he began to descend, Sil threw a punch, crushing his glasses while still in free-fall.
Several gang members had chosen to retreat by this time, though a more stubborn individual continued to draw near.  In frustration one produced a sizable bowie knife from his waste.  Sweeping towards ‘The Hatter’, he barely managed to jump backwards in time, the knife just nicking his abdomen.  Upon the second time around was able to counter the armed assassin’s wrist, forcing the blade to rest comfortably within the side of its owner.  There was a long, bitter slump.  At the sight of that, those that could still manage to move scurried out the lone door from which they came.
Wiping a trail of blood gradually dripping from his nose with a wave of his sleeve, ‘Em-Aych’ had a seat next to what was left of his chair.  Silvia soon took the spot next to him.
“Now, as I was saying,” turning to Silvia, “How’d you manage to get yourself into this situation?”  Though he hid it well, his smile reflected his exhaustion.
“You of all people should know it’s not safe for a girl to wander the streets at night.”  She tried laughing, though it hurt a great deal.  She paused to compose her thoughts.  “An old friend of mine OD’d; didn’t even know she was using.  Anyway, I did some digging around and found Sid.  Apparently he gave her the shit.  I tried confronting him, got out numbered.  I think you can piece the rest.”
“No kidding.”  They sat in silence staring off into space for a moment before he spoke up again.  “Granted, I definitely beat you—,” she interrupted with an exhausted jab, “but where’d you learn to fight like that?”
Her eyes began to droop as she spoke, “My dad used to enter me into gymnastic competitions as a kid.  He liked winning and it was the only time I truly felt free.  Things just sort of clicked when everything fell apart.  Are you going to tell me your hand in all of this?”
  ‘The Hatter’ reluctantly stood up, adjusting his hat and dusting off his jacket.   “Honestly, I was bored.  Barely recognizable, but I saw them dragging you into that warehouse.  Thought I’d find a way in.  Besides, I’ve been looking for a reason to beat Sid’s ass.”  He beamed as he began to turn, a slow stagger away.  His footsteps echoed in the silence of the penthouse.
“You know you’re crazy right?”  She called after him; an understatement if you asked her.  “Are you ever going to tell me your name?”
“Does it really matter what my name is?  After all, ‘what’s in a name?’”  He laughed, pivoting around to face her.  “‘Em-Aych’ right?  Suits me just fine.  It was nice seeing you again Sil, I’m sure we’re bound to run into each other again quite soon.”

With that he leaped through an open window, disappearing down the fire escape.  By the time Silvia had reached the windowsill he was gone.  ‘Em-Aych,’ she recited it softly to herself.  She had a name, of sorts, finally.  What did he mean by ‘running into each other soon’?  It all seemed coincidental until now.  Had she found a friend amongst all this chaos?  For once she didn’t feel alone, as if she had an ally; a bizarre ally.  Silvia tried to make heads or tails of the whole thing, but it was no use.  Her head was a mess by now.  “Probably best to sleep on it,” she thought.  Exhausted, she trudged out the door.

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