Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Two days pass, and the rain persists.
Faolan carries the large garbage bags to the shadow covered dumpster behind the grill with a cigarette pressed between his lips and hunger in his belly. He yearns for a warm bed and sound sleep, but sleep will likely evade him again as it has all these months after losing Sarah. Now when he closes his eyes, he visions the face of her killer and imagines it wrought in pain like hers must have been that night. Shaking those thoughts away, he sets the bags down as he turns the corner around the bar, then gasps at the sight of a silhouette leaning against the wall and waiting ready to meet him.
“You,” is all he can think to say. “It's you.” He can practically smell Sarah's blood on him. “What do you want? Why did you come here?”
The man steps forward, a little into the light though not enough to showcase his features well, but Faolan knows it's like it was before. He's shrouded by the darkness and brings a certain air with him, something that feels otherworldly that Faolan can't quite identify.
“That's not a very polite way to begin a conversation. Wouldn't you care for an introduction to start?” His voice is like nails on chalkboard. Faolan grits his teeth at the sound. His body suddenly feels heavier, and his head swims from his own anger.
“I already know who you are. You murdered her. You didn't even know her name, and you murdered her.” He realizes that his feet are paralyzed to the ground, but he doesn't feel scared, just furious and aching to make him pay.
The killer smiles, and it's the same smile he had offered to him the night he was inside Blaine's house. “I knew her well, in fact. Perhaps I know more about you, John Faolan Callaghan, than you even know about yourself. I know that your brother was a crack addict, your mother a whore, and you her whoreson. Would you like to hear about your father?”
Faolan shouts, “No, shut up! I don't care about any of that.”
He continues to smile. “Yes, and I know that too. You only care about your precious Sarah. That's why you started sniffing around, isn't it? Couldn't even use your own nose to do it.” He shakes his head, and Faolan's eyes widen. “Are you starting to understand? I have something of yours, and if you don't want me to murder this whore like I did the last one, meet me at the old factory on the west side of town by nine tomorrow. You know the one?”
Faolan tightens his jaw and nods.
“Good. Then we'll finally have that introduction.” He shows his teeth, revealing a row of pointed incisors, then he turns on his heels. All of a sudden, Faolan feels the tension leave his body, his limbs free. “Oh and on a side note,” the other adds over his shoulder before walking away. “I happen to prefer red-heads over blondes...don't tarry long.”
Start from the beginning fav.me/d9yp0m5
Chapter II: Dance of the Walking Sleeper fav.me/d9ytl4f
The themes and ideals expressed in this tale are not works of fiction,
but the characters, places, and plots are.
Characters are not based on any real person(s) – be they living or dead – and
reflections of any past, present, and/or future events
are unintentional.
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Cool to listen to while you read:open.spotify.com/track/3GAd2rM…