Damnable

Nick’s hands worked his guitar and lips sung the words effortlessly, allowing his consciousness to wander in the moment. Thoughts of walking down the rabbit hole fluttered through his mind. Embracing his senses Nick took in the dim lighting which illuminated the crowd lost to abandon, the humid heat making a second skin of his t-shirt, the strong bar smell of cigarette smoke and spilt alcohol he inhaled deeply. A smile rooted in what felt like sweet insanity grew on his face as he closed his eyes and sank deeper into forgetting himself. Down the rabbit hole it is, he decided as he let go.

Nick’s playing intensified which seemed to push the crowd to madness, erupting into fighting and various acts of illicit debauchery. Eyes wide and grin still plastered on his face Nick reveled in the honesty of the moment of frenzy, it was palpable to him. A glimpse through flicking his head to clear his vision of his hair told him something was wrong. Nick zeroed in on two men at the back of the club in bland black suits existing in complete contrast to the rest of the crowd. An older man solidly in his fifties sat accompanied by a younger man in what looked like his early twenties. The younger man appeared to be covering one of his ears while screaming into a cell phone, both men had mortified looks on their faces while shaking their heads. He knew them; he knew they were shaking their heads at him as the disgust was plainly read on their faces. The contrast they brought anchored Nick instantly back to himself and the insanity of the moment became obvious to him. The crowd wound down as the band smoothly brought the song to an end following Nick’s lead. On stage the group froze uncertain in how they should proceed as a moment of confused silence and shared panting overtook the patrons of the “Devil May Care”. Nick’s eyes nervously wandered over his the audience as he shrugged his shoulders and strummed his guitar one last time before throwing it to the ground signaling the end of the show. The audience erupted into a deafening cheer as the exhausted musicians walked off of stage.

The band was still high on the performance as they exchanged their colliding knuckles, high fives, and pats on sweat soaked backs.

“Time to divide up the bounty.” Ellis said placing his guitar down with a mischievous look on his face.

“By divide you mean you’ll pick off the hot ones and leave us with the second and third strings?” Trent said smiling. Ellis nodded enthusiastically at the thought.

“More for us then, I am a believer in quantity over aesthetic quality.” Trent replied. The band laughed as all but Nick dispersed into the crowd in hopes of the free drinks and chances at the no strings attached sex their performances more often than not brought.

“Nick! Come on!” The drummer Everett tried to yell over the crowd’s persisting enthusiasm.

Nick smiled and shook his head as he made his way to the back door towards his car, consciously putting distance between him and the men in black suits. In the parking lot of the club Nick sat comfortably reclined in his seat as a seemingly temperature-less breeze fluttered over his skin. He felt as if the weather it self caringly caressed him to help ease his mind as he inhaled on the ornate pipe which put further distance between him and the men that would not leave him alone. In a haze he clumsily fumbled with the radio in hopes of finding music that would complete the equation of artificial escape but lazily in drug induced incoordination settled into the news broadcasts of A.M radio. Nick rarely paid any attention to the news, as the news to him seemed to exist mainly to elaborate the depressingly obvious wrong in the world and the news of that night did not disappoint.

“Scheme robbed thousands… Charged with sexual assault… Murder believed to be related to a gang territory dispute”. Nick caught the random phrases through his drug-induced half asleep trance. The thoughts triggered by the broadcast’s common themes of ignorant greed and violence brought Nick to silent tears and confused hurt as he thought on the concepts. Why did the world have to be this way? He questioned to himself. The distance and free spinning emotion was shattered with an urgent slap on the roof of his car. Nick opened his eyes wide as his attention was roughly brought back to reality noticing Jill and Dean looking disapprovingly at him.

“Nick you need to go.” The tall man said leaning almost into the car as the woman sniffed the air.

“You reek of alcohol!” She yelled.

“It spilled” Nick said groggily while pointing to a whisky bottle on his floorboard.

“What are you smoking… Is that opium!? Who the # smokes opium in this day and age Nicolas!?” she yelled as she knocked the pipe out of his mouth.

Nick raised his hand in admission and beamed a tear soaked smile.

“Leave me alone.” He pleaded.

“What kind of names for angels are Dean and Jill anyway ‽” He yelled which he thought in his drugged and drunk state was a logical and argument winning response to Jill’s judgment and Dean’s urgent command

“We are not responsible for how mankind chooses to label and view us nor how they and you define us Nicolas! That said, this is no way for a savior to behave!” Jill continued to rant.

“I’m no savior Jilly.” He said pleasantly, ignoring Jill’s scolding.

“Don’t call me Jilly!”

“Nick! You have to leave! Go!” Dean insisted, interrupting the usual bickering between the two. The back door of the club sprang open revealing the two men he noticed earlier. Tires barked as two SUVs halted quickly around Nick’s vehicle. It was too late.

“Leave me alone.” Nick sighed and said at a level unheard by the group of men dressed in black.

“We let this go too long already.” The older man from earlier voiced sternly but somberly. His young partner at his side seemed to be seething with rage.

“Please..” Nick started but was interrupted.

“You are an abomination! We tried the easy way! You forced us to do this the hard way! We have your whore, get out of your vehicle!” The old man’s companion yelled brandishing a pistol in one hand while violently grabbing someone from one of the eight men that piled out of the SUVs.

“Emily?” Nick sobered. Dean’s look of concern deepened as he jumped to reason with the armed group of men hoping to stop any escalation.

“You’re Catholic Priests for goodness sake! Doesn’t that mean something to you‽ Don’t do this! He’s what you and the rest of mankind make him! He can be your salvation! “ The angel’s pleading briefly evoked looks of hesitation from some of group as they contemplated their actions. Emily smirked and took advantage of the moment breaking free of the young priest’s grip in the direction of Nick’s car. The young priest’s face twisted further into a scowl of irrational anger as he stiffly shifted the aim of his pistol.

“No!” the angels and the older priest yelled simultaneously. Ignoring them he fired. Emily shuddered as the bullet slammed into her back mid jump through Nick’s passenger side window. Her victorious smile of escape turned into shock then sadness and pain. Jill grimaced at the unfolding event and Dean shook his head.

“This can’t be how it ends…” Jill said in a defeated tone to which Dean sighed.

Nick breathed heavily, dropping the smile he reflexively made at Emily’s as she made her dash at escape. A bomb of rage, despair and shock exploded in his chest. He felt him-self coming unglued… the rabbit hole sucking him in. Nick’s face released into the look of insanity that earlier found him on stage.

“Fire!!!” the older priest yelled pulling the trigger without hesitation, uncertain of what was coming but knowing at his core it was bad. The other priests complied.

Nick found himself kneeling on the ground still breathing heavily, his mind slowed allowing confusion and sadness to creep in. Why was he at a construction site? Why were there helicopters circling and shining spotlights erratically around him? The bodies of the priests were smashed into bloody smears on the ground, how did they get like that? His thoughts raced.

The neon sign of the Devil May Care flickered in the rubble that surrounded him. This was no construction site he thought shaking his head to himself as his mind began to put things together.

“Nick‽” Emily yelled with pain and urgency in her voice.

reply to post by Strayed


Very cool Strayed.

I dig the premise though I feel left outvof the loop somehow, like I walked in on a movie halfway through. Are there previous installments to this tale? If so could I trouble you to link then in the OP? I would dig that.

Very well written and that hook is solid, holy crap they are angels? Savior? I want to know more!

At first it felt like a story I'm working on about a punk rock band that gets caught up in the zombie apocalypse. Way too vulgar for ATS though.

Good work, looking forward to more.

Kallisti

CagliostroTheGreat
reply to post by Strayed

 

Very cool Strayed.

I dig the premise though I feel left outvof the loop somehow, like I walked in on a movie halfway through. Are there previous installments to this tale? If so could I trouble you to link then in the OP? I would dig that.

Very well written and that hook is solid, holy crap they are angels? Savior? I want to know more!

At first it felt like a story I'm working on about a punk rock band that gets caught up in the zombie apocalypse. Way too vulgar for ATS though.

Good work, looking forward to more.

Kallisti

Thank you very much and you're very right; there is a very lengthy back story but the rest of what I have so far is not written out in a linear cohesive fashion. When I write I tend to jump around a lot within the stories as such if someone was to read it straight through before I was done without knowing everything I have in mind it'd be a confusing mess. If I mange anything else from this story that seems like it could stand semi-alone I'll keep it in mind to post it.

Good zombie fiction is always treat for me to read, if you never post here I'd certainly appreciate a link to check it out when you finish.

Thanks again!