Coulisse

NOTE: This the part of the free-write post that we have to write every week for class.

Loose rocks scuffled under my boots as I headed down the street. I pulled my hood tighter to my head. The brisk air was the only thing keeping me awake, and it gave me a jolt every time I inhaled. I looked down at my hands; the skin was cracked. I needed to get inside soon or else . . .

No, I couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if I didn’t hear it soon enough. The pain running through my body with such speed was already unnerving enough.

The world was already starting to spin around me, as if I were on a Merry-Go-Round. But this wasn’t merry at all. It was more like a Terror-Go-Round. And I wasn’t riding with joy—I was practically screaming for my life, trying to get someone to stop the ride. But the one in control was twisted, evil. Only God could save me now, and he’s too busy with other business.

My throat got tight as my heart started to twinge. I tried so hard not to cry, even though the fear and pain was so overwhelming.

A car passed by. It was one of those huge Hummers with rap blasting from every inch of its polluting self. Though it wasn’t my preferred music, it was enough to calm me for a few seconds. When I breathed, the air didn’t feel as nippy, and I savored the little power I had now.

I walked forward, now more confident. The bright lights of the club were calling to me, and I was weak to its influence. So I kept walking, trying to stay strong. I finally got to the bouncer. He was a big guy with tattoos everywhere, sun glasses (even though it was night), a pierced ear, blah, blah, blah. I’d seen tougher.

He raised an eyebrow. “ID?”

My hand plunged inside my hoodie pocket, and I pulled out a fake one that he had made for me.

The guy inspected it for a moment, handed it back to me, then waved me in.

I almost ran into the place, I was just that excited. The wave of music hit me, and I relaxed completely. My senses were alive again, and I could feel color coming back to my face.

Now, I had to find a place to sit and feed. A nice spot in the corner appeared, and I quickly headed towards it. I sat down and removed my hood, letting the music flow through me.

I fed on the music, letting the pulsations and sounds soak into me. I wasn’t too far in my feeding when a shadow loomed over me, and my eyes snapped open.

A crooked smile appeared out of an ugly face; a face that I so dearly wished to punch.

“You doing well, I assume?” he said.

“Fall in a ditch, Shish-kebab,” I sneered.

He frowned. “It’s Shiva.”

“Like that would make a difference.” I frowned. “What do you want?”

Shiva’s face softened. He shrugged. “Oh, I just wanted to check up on an old friend. I guess that my presence isn’t wanted, though.”

I cocked a brow. “What tipped you off?”

His face stayed abnormally calm. “I’ll say it once, Nil, and only once. Nix has been captured. They know he has a twin. Guess who that is.” He suppressed a laugh. “And they also know that there are more than just you and I running about. I suggest you watch yourself.”

With that, Shiva melted back into the sweaty crowd. Once he was completely out of sight, I leaned back and sighed. My tense shoulders fell down and I groaned.

“Nix, you idiot,” I said under my breath. “You’re going to get yourself killed. And the rest of us, at that.”

I just sat in the corner for the rest of the night, watching people slowly leave. By the time that I got up and left, only the bartender, the DJ, and some poor soul were left. I left the club and went back into the streets. The air was just as cold as it had been when I’d left it five hours earlier.

On account of my feeding being so long and filling, my senses were wide awake. So strong, I’d be able to dodge a bullet being shot from at least twenty feet. And because I was so alert, I became nervous when I heard rocks scuffling under boots. Not my boots. I hurried around the corner of a boutique, and shot a glance back. It was the poor soul from the club when I’d left.

My walk broke into a run, and I sped up, turning into the alley. It felt so strange, how familiar their presence felt. I was racking my brain for answers, trying to match the sound of the scuffling to anyone else that could match it. The scuffling sounded quicker now . . . they were speeding up. Before I could get any further through that thought, a quick blow to the back got me to the ground. The stranger had me pinned, and was pressing my face to the cold gravel, which was scraping my cheeks. I wheezed, and gasped for air.

Even more weight came down on me, holding my cold body still. It was getting harder and harder to think, much less breathe.

“Shh!” There was a slight pause before the stranger’s urgent and hushed voice came to me. “Stay down! And don’t move, or else they’ll see you.”

A hand covered my mouth, and I was thrust to the side of a giant garbage bin. Overhead, a helicopter with a searchlight passed.

The figure sighed, and I looked at them. As my eyes adjusted, I tried to make out the fine features of their face.

Then a gasp came, and I realized it was from me.

The stranger turned to me and hissed, “What?”

“It’s you. It’s you . . . Cyan.”