Fate had always been cruel to him. Nobody wanted to touch him. Nobody could even bear looking him in the eyes for too long. There’s always something about him.. Something you can’t just see. Some people chalked it up to general creepiness or body odour, whilst some rumoured that he might have even become possessed by an evil spirit.
Even if he was, these people would’ve not known any better than superstition, jokes and hunches. Unfortunately for him it’s the way life has been for him for a long while, as long as he can remember.
His name was Arthur. A scrawny eighteen year old, unsuspecting in appearance with his cut-short light brown hair and wispy muttonchops.. At a simple glance from afar, on the bus or in the street; you could have no way of knowing just who, or what he truly was but for the circle of emptiness around him everywhere he went. Like a magnet repels the same polarities, people were repelled by him.
Everywhere.
It was another long day at Menagerie City College, as normal as a day can be - particularly for Arthur. The sun shone through the windows, past its zenith at quarter to four on an April afternoon. It was silent but for the tapping of typing on keyboards which filled the room like a drone. Whenever Arthur took off his headphones, he felt isolated by the emptiness of the room. There was only clicking and clacking. No one chattered. No one even hummed or chuckled to themselves. It was an emotionless white room full of computer stations built to harvest the emotions of its students.
“You should study something unassuming - like finances!” His father had said to him a long time ago. He put his headphones back in, shrugged as Beethoven’s symphony flooded back into his ears, soothing his mind to ease as he went back to work clicking and clacking away at the keys on his own keyboard.
There was one thing he looked forward to after the academic day would be over, and that’s a session of basketball with friends. He heard it was every Thursday, open invitation as well.
As luck would have it, today was a Thursday.
Arthur smiled to himself as he took another pause, imagining becoming friends with new people over a sport.
The work was effectively meaningless. Analysing surveys on produce sales in the inner city, drafting up market data reports from the results. Learning to see the codes and numbers in everything.
“Now, class,” the lecturer began near the very start of Arthur’s time on the course pacing the front of the room gesturing to numbers and drawings on the board like he knew what they all meant, “by the end of the next two years, you will learn to see all aspects of life as little more than sets of data and numbers. This is how the world works. This is how the market works..”
All Arthur could think about was how wrong it felt.
One of the cases he looked into as a part of the surveys was to do with a family of farmers suffering from relentless crop diseases. They were operating at a loss.
All the formulas he had been given resulted in no other outcomes than to stomp down on this family, put their business and livelihood to the executioner’s axe. And it wouldn’t even be intentional. Like a stray thumb in the path of a circular saw..
A shadow appeared behind him.
“Some sacrifices are necessary, Arthur.” The lecturer commented as he strutted by, walking down the aisle, observing his students’ work.
He supposed it didn’t matter. It was only an exercise. In red text on the document, he typed up “FILED FOR BANKRUPTCY. All assets to be sold and liquidated, land ownership forfeited also..”
The work they did here, would it ever affect the real world? He looked up again from his computer, eyes immediately shooting towards the glass door at the other side of the room where he noticed some kind of movement. He noticed some kind of figure - a girl with a camera around her neck. The girl’s hair was some shade of blonde, but Arthur didn’t notice much past that as he found his gaze locked with the girl’s eyes, dark blue like the eastern skies of dusk. It felt like aeons, that their gazes had been locked. Everything seemed to slow, even the beautiful piano strokes of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata he had playing through his headphones. Time itself.
But within a few moments, the girl’s eyes began to widen, her face grew pale and she backed away from the door and out of view. Arthur blinked a few times in confusion, returning his eyes to his monitor screen. Although not to resume his work, no. The interaction he had shared just now.. He couldn’t help but feel a tingling deep within himself.
‘A girl looked into my eyes..’
“Arthur,” called the lecturer, “stop staring into space again and return to your task.”
“Yes, Callum.”
And so he returned to his keyboard and returned to work, or so he tried..
Soon enough, thankfully, the clock would strike four and the day would end.
Everyone would log off of their computers, stretch and yawn and chatter amongst themselves as each clique drained themselves slowly through the door. The sun shed golden light between the windows. The birds would sing outside, shadows of the city beyond the college campus went on barely noticed by the students
There were scant few people Arthur believed were his friends. He looked up to them, thought they were cool and in turn they thought he didn’t notice the way their faces fell when he spun on his chair to talk with them.
“It’s been a good day of work today, guys?” He said, smiling despite the downcast looks.
"S'oppose so.”
“Hm.”
“Yeah, sure thing, Arty.”
“So, are you guys still playing basketball after?” He asked.
“I don’t know if I’m feeling it today.” Replied one, adjusting her sunglasses, grimacing slightly.
“Come on guys,” another laughed, “me and Arty’ll have a one on one.” He announced, winking at Arthur. A few students openly laughed.
“I’m sure everyone will be dying to have a one on one with him.”
The bus ride home was as lonely as ever for our Arthur. He leaned his head against the glass, watching the offices and traffic of the city go by in a blur of familiarity as the bus took its route in the hyper-commercial urban jungle that was the city centre of Menagerie City. Soon enough, he passed by a basketball court between buildings.
His eyes searched past the chain link fence as the bus halted at a traffic light stuck on red.
There were a few people in different groups doing their own thing around the edges, but only three people were in play.
Three people Arthur considered his friends.
“I guess they changed their minds, and forgot to tell me.” Arthur mumbled to himself.
Arthur’s home was a run down apartment in a run down block, about fifteen minutes away from the clean, sanitized terminal where the bus unceremoniously dropped him off at.
The elevator was out of order, the metal doors rusted to oblivion, forcing him to have to stalk the stairwells. It stank massively of alcohol, cigarettes and mildew, with an undertone of urine. The walls were made of bare concrete and dusty potted plants wilted besides grimy windows at each landing.
A few people hung around these landings, socialising from outside their doors, although their voices dwindled as Arthur walked by. Even going so far as to retreat into their door frames by a couple of steps. Anything to create space between them.
He knew they spread some kind of rumours about him. He could not comprehend the energy which surrounded him, however. This energy which was like a permeating stink.
It was only a couple of floors he had to climb to arrive at his apartment, however.
Apart from the faint stale odour which hung in the air, the apartment was empty, and he found himself home alone as usual.
“Left you money, located in your room inside the small cardboard box. I’ll be gone for a while. From your father.”
A short search rewarded him with the cardboard box as described in the letter. It opened without much effort, revealing a pathetic three notes worth of cash to use at his disposal. A few loose coins clinked at the bottom.
‘It’s not quite enough to buy a full meal..’ He lamented. Arthur would have to rely on pre-existing supplies in the cupboards. Not feeling very hopeful, he began searching the kitchen..
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
INTRO THEME : “Spiderwebs” by No Doubt
EPISODE 1. FROGS
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emily Hyde had spent the day moping around the campus of Menagerie City College, camera swinging from a strap around her neck as she searched for something to document which might garner her a good score in her current assignment as a student of the course studying Journalism. Her hair was decently long, a dirty blonde, teetering on the edge of dark brown whilst a dyed pink highlight bordered her rounded, simple face. (Or so, how she herself perceived it to be.) Her lips were pursed and her eyes a swift and calculating dark blue. Her best outfit was at the dry-cleaner’s right now, so the most she could whip together today was a pair of baggy pants, and a funky looking baggy tee; depicting Garfield in basketball uniform shooting a hoop - layered over a plain white long sleeve. She leaned awkwardly and forlornly on the corner of an empty corridor between the Auditorium and the block dedicated to the Forensics and Art blocks, flicking through the few photos she managed to snap, cross referencing them with a few notes she logged in the notebook of hers.
A picture of a frog next to a puddle showed up on the display of the camera.
“ATTACK OF THE AMPHIBIA..” The notebook said, “numbers of troublesome toads increasing tenfold around campus since the Spring! With tadpoles growing up and leaving their ponds, armies of frogs have been popping up everywhere~”
She skipped over some statistics and research notes she had made. It was the same influx of frogs they had every year, a part of nature. But Emily wasn’t so sure it was quite as normal as others might put it off as being.
Not only were the frogs’ numbers almost double of last year’s total - but the fact she had been referencing the date between last July and now..
The confusing part was, that it was currently April.
Her working theory was that some kind of chemical had been leaking from the college facilities into the surrounding land, spurring massive growth in frogspawn, tadpoles - everything.
She had yet to find evidence of anything else other than frogs beginning to grow faster, however.
“Oi, Scrub." Emily looked up, brushing the pink highlighted fringe out of her eye to be met with a recognisable face - another student from the Journalism course.
You’re about to learn that recognisability doesn’t always equate to good news.
“Jackson. You trying to steal my stories from me?”
Jackson was tall, taller than Emily at least. Sporting spiked hair, tanned skin and bushy eyebrows, he leaned towards her with brown eyes searching like spotlights.
"Nah. Just come to see what kind of crazy crap you're cooking up right now,” he looked down at the digital screen of her camera, still displaying the shot of the frog laying dismally beside the dirty puddle, “hey, is that a frog? How is that meant to be interesting news?”
Emily shrugged, doubling down on her project, jabbing her thumb towards herself.
“I'm researching the increase in the number of frogs appearing all around the campus within the last few days!”
“It's probably just that time of year, you know.”
Emily shook her head.
“No, there's definitely something different about this..” Then an idea sparked in her brain, “well, Jackson, I don't see how you can poke at my idea when I don't know what you're writing about.”
Jackson nodded.
“Fair enough, mate.” He replied, relinquishing his smartphone, typing in the passcode for the lock screen before pivoting the screen towards Emily.
She put her fringe behind her ear, leaning forwards to really take stock of what was in front of her..
Displayed on the slightly cracked screen of Jackson's smartphone was a blurry image she could just about make out to be.. A grainy image of what looked like some kind of hole in the ground?
“What am I looking at here? And why is the picture so blurry?” Emily squinted her eyes, trying to find some details in or around the mouth of the dark hole.
“It's a cave entrance, on the side of Mount Lion.”
“But Mount Lion is like, half a dozen miles away… oh.” Both her questions had been answered. Jackson had obviously used the zoom feature on his camera, the picture taken from the window up in their classroom.
“There’s something strange about that cave and I'm going to get to the bottom of it! I’m well getting a distinction for my work.” Jackson announced with pride, slipping his phone back into his pocket as gestured towards Emily's camera.
“It'll make your story about frogs look like a footnote when I get into the student column at the Menagerie Express!”
“Sure,” Emily crossed her arms, tapping the notebook against the inside of her elbow, “but if you want to be more of a reliable journalist, you’ll have to get close to that hole. I might even tell you to jump into it. For the experience.”
Jackson rolled his eyes and continued his business down the hallway, disappearing quickly.
Soon enough, the allotted break period was over. Emily watched the hand strike 3:45 on her bulky steel wristwatch, and like clockwork she immediately set off down the hallway, making her way through the frankly labyrinth-like structure of the college building towards the Journalism class, in the Arts block. However, in order to arrive at her destination on time, she was forced to travel through the IT and Economics department…
‘Eugh..’ she turned her nose up as she passed through the double doors leading through to the Economics lobby, empty but for a lonely janitor, sweeping a pile of crumbs from the surface of a luxurious counter, five tall stools lined up in single file beside the wall. The college budget could always afford the best for the students of IT and Economics. Whenever those two things came up in conversation; it conjured up images in her mind of grubby, cheese-dust covered losers rotting in front of a computer screen and cartoonishly evil businessmen sucking on cigars. Leeches on both sides of society..
Emily just wanted to leave the department corridor and the faint smell of chlorine which hung in the air, and so began speed walking towards the end of the hall where a single glass door stood. The hallway actually took a sharp left turn at this point, the double doors leading to the Arts block beckoning her to go and open them, to leave this place behind.
It seemed like a whole bunch of white light was flooding from the glass door, piquing her interest.
She stood silently just a few steps away from seeing inside, the faint sounds of brushing from the janitor alongside the hum of the light fixtures above providing a dull ambience for her moment of contemplation.
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She shrugged.
“It won’t hurt to take a little look, play the lost student..”
She had seen more exciting prison cells.
A bland white room; no posters, no food on the desks, not even the students wore anything over than blacks and greys - despite the college’s lack of an official uniform, it sure looked like these masochists wanted to change that notion.
Unsurprised at the oppression of an average classroom of finances, she moved to make a swift exit. That was when all of a sudden, she locked eyes with one of the boys in the room, one who had looked up from his computer monitor. She immediately felt a kind of pressure bearing down upon her, a cold feeling crawled up her spine like icy spiders were travelling on her back. It felt like some kind of sick and twisted tunnel vision - some kind of curse had befallen her as all her vision began to darken but for this guy’s eyes. She began to shiver as physical illness filled her body, her eyebrows furrowed and beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she desperately tried to tear herself away from the trance-like state she found herself in. She began walking backwards, taking shaking steps away from the glass door until she could no longer see him, until all eye contact had been broken.
“What.. the.. hell?” She gasped out at the moment she escaped, wiping sweat off her brow with her sleeve.
Whatever had just happened was not normal. Not in the slightest. Whatever the opposite of ‘love at first sight’ was, this had to be it. It was like some kind of hypnosis effect.
Emily, now a little more stable after that, immediately found herself vacating the hallway, pushing the plain wooden double doors into the corridors leading back to her home at the Arts block.
But she couldn’t just shake off the experience she had just had. Flipping to the next blank page in her notebook, she scribbled down the following words as she walked.
“PARANORMAL ECONOMICS STUDENT. Hypnosis? Or just a creep?”
Of course, it was all possible that he was just another creepy, perverted guy; but as a part of her work in Journalism with the college, she had met her fair share of predators. While all were disgusting, none had ever made her feel so… unsettled. Or trapped. Not with a single glance.
She picked up the pace a little bit, almost jogging to reach the end of the dimly lit hallway and into the safety of the Arts block.
As she burst through into the bright space on the other side of the door, she was greeted with the welcoming and familiar scents of charcoal, paint, acetone and sandalwood, a scent which had become staple features of not only this department, but of the students who were part of it. It was like a little bug which clung to them and never faded fully - the grungey scent always detectable to the trained nose of somebody like Miss Hyde. She was aware that she too shared this subtle scent.
At a time so close to the end of the day as this, the halls were empty of students - all of whom were likely in their classes right about now.
Another thing Emily loved about the Arts block, was that its hallways seemed suspended in a constant ‘golden hour’ throughout the day - all thanks to the great windows to the left, and the haughty, tall ceilings from which hung various dozens of pieces of art - canvases, clippings, sculptures and bunting which created a collage of light refraction; scattering bright patterns, colours and shadows across the walls like a living kaleidoscope.
It was a beautiful display of human art paired with nature. In fact, she had even tried to talk about it in her first assignment in the Journalism course… needless to say - her article had been… amateur.
That’s what she applied to the course for, anyway. And over the last half a year, her skills had improved much. One of her bragging rights was the fact she had become a “very notable student with excellent journalism” in the slightly misremembered words of the President of Beak Weekly, a campus newspaper for the students - printed domestically!
Emily found herself immediately reprimanded upon entrance to the classroom. It was decorated very stereotypically of a classroom teaching Journalism.
Newspaper clippings and exemplary examples of printed photography covered the walls, pinned to cork boards alongside posters detailing the research process and writing etiquette. The huge windows lit up the room fabulously, the dazzling sun hovering just above the city skyline, peering through the glass.
“Ah, Hyde shows up five minutes before the end of the day - as usual.” The short, balding, middle aged man who was the tutor of Journalism called out the moment she stepped through the door. Any students who didn’t notice her enter, certainly snapped their heads right towards her presence now. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry Gary. I thought I’d take a shortcut.” She mumbled as she went to take her seat in front of a dusty old computer monitor, chair creaking in protest as she lowered herself onto it.
“I’ll have to catch you up after class, Emily.” Gary replied sternly, before refocussing his attention to the entire class, consisting of about nine other students.
The lecturer paused as he gestured to the board, where he had drawn a table with words on it such as research, process, time-plan and evidence.
“Ah yes. I was just finishing up my talk about the unit- The deadline for all work is the twentieth of May. You all have a responsibility to ensure all your written work is posted to your personal blogs by then, as well as all evidence of your research process. Sister documents and such.. which should be handed in to me as physical documents to be photocopied and sent to the examiners.”
Gary looked around, splaying his arms out.
“Any questions?”
The class remained in total silence. A couple students were shaking their heads, eager and itching to be let out. Gary let out a deep sigh and fell back into his chair.
“Go early then. Log off your computers.”
The energy from the class was palpable - one by one all the monitors were filled with logout screens and the old chairs left empty and slowly spinning round. When the home time rush ended, Emily noticed there were two other students left in the classroom, two other girls with shoulder length jet black hair sat next to each other - Molly and Barb. Despite only being a part of the course for a few months, Emily already knew the two as the smartest people she knew..
“Come over here.” Gary said, waving her over with a move of the hand. Emily spun her seat around and rolled down the aisle towards the lecturer on her chair.
“I didn’t get a chance to have a one-on-one with you, Emily. And I’m just quite worried.. because I need to know if you’re still on track with this assignment.”
Emily leaned forward, resting her chin on the back of the chair, whilst staring right past the eyes of the lecturer.
“Sure.” She said, almost dismissively.
“I’ve been into your blog,” Gary continued, “and I haven't seen much progress since a couple of weeks ago.”
“I promise, I've been working! I'm really trying to find something interesting to write about!” Emily exclaimed, sitting up with wide eyes.
“That's another thing,” Gary clasped his hands on the desk, taking a serious look at his student, “I don't even know what those ideas are.. And you haven't been chasing me up for feedback at all!”
Emily ran her fingers through her hair, eyes darting around the room as she tapped her notebook against the desk.
“I've- I've got one idea. But it's really stupid..”
“In all fairness, Lacrosse gets into the news.. I'll hear you out.”
Emily’s eyebrows rose, hope welling up inside of her like a flowing river rising in her heart.
“Well,” she began scrambling with her notebook to explain the reports and data, “my entire report for this unit is to do with frogs!”
“An interesting hook,” Gary replied, Emily looked on at him expectantly, “by all means, continue.”
She took a deep breath.
“As you know, each year around the summer months, frogs appear on the college grounds! Lots of ‘em! However, within the last couple of weeks, their numbers have been far greater than any year within the last decade! This imbalance, is what I’m investigating.” She smiled to herself.
“Right.. What about your evidence?”
“It’s right here in my research notes,” she replied, flipping through the pages, “as you can see, I did some research in the library - comparing the last three years of data to what I’ve found this year. For example; in 2009, 10 and 11, the numbers of frogs only seemed to increase in late May and June. This is about the time of year when froglets leave the nest~”
“However, this year, we are seeing full grown frogs emerging from the forest land around the College, whilst it is only April!”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Emily.”
“Huh? Why?”
“You need to be listing your sources of research.”
Emily physically deflated, feeling all of a sudden very dull.
“Yeah… right..”
“Don’t be like that,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “you’re here not just to learn skills for writing - but also to have good and reputable journalism! If you’re going to be an Investigative Journalist in the future, you’ll want people to be able to trust your judgment. And that’s by backing up your reports with good sources!”
“I understand.” Emily replied, looking longingly out at the green canopy of the forest just outside the college grounds, watching the trees slowly swaying together.
“Your story isn’t bad Emily.” Gary added, staring out of the glass alongside her. “I think it will really show off your initiative and creativity.”
“You think so?” Emily beamed.
“Absolutely. Even though you joined a unit late, you’ve fit right into your work. Just- remember to get all of that work up on your blog, okay?”
She nodded enthusiastically in response.
“Of course!”
“Now you can go. It is four minutes past four anyway..” He stretched his arms, “run along now.”
And so that was where Emily found herself at 4 P.M on a Wednesday afternoon, backpack over her shoulders as she sauntered from the front doors to the college, watching the hustle of dozens of students’ cars as they all tried to leave the car parks at once, whilst she was easily able to zig zag and maneuver her way through the hellish gridlock, heading for the main gate which had been choked by the sheer number of cars backed up on their way out. Luckily, the road outside of the campus grounds was a simple crossroads, a few low level apartments, stores and a gas station converged on both sides of the road, and just over the trees rose the skyscrapers and high rises of the great Menagerie City.
As she walked past a red Miata and swung herself upon to a wall beside the road, Emily couldn't help but see the photo opportunity in front of her.
‘While I wait to be picked up.. I'm gonna get a great photo!’
She brought her camera up to her eyes, positioned it well, the sun's light reflecting from the glass in the most spectacular way…
“..I thought you said you weren't up for it today?” Came a loud voice from just behind Emily, throwing her off her shot just as she hit the button to take the picture.
‘That's gonna be crap!’ She let the camera fall, the strap catching its descent as it swung on her neck.
Three pairs of footsteps approached from behind, the people who had distracted her from her shot.
“Well, I just didn't want him to join..” Came a reply from a somewhat deep voiced girl, “I really don’t like him.”
Car doors began opening and slamming shut.
“But do you really think it was right, misleading him like that?”
“It doesn't matter what way you spin it. He's bad news.. I wear these sunglasses so I don't have to make eye contact with him! He's like the Medusa..” The girl said, before the car doors slammed for the final time.
“Like the Medusa, huh..?” Emily was reminded of her encounter with that guy back at the Economics block.. It sure did feel like she was turned to stone.
The sound of a grumbling engine grew louder, alongside the smell of burning as Emily's father pulled up beside the wall in an old, banged up muscle car. The passenger side window was already rolled down, and a cigarette butt flicked out from it.
“Get in.” Her dad called to her, but she was already down from the wall and yanking the door open to get inside.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Arthur had decidedly left for the grocery store. It wasn’t going to be too far from the apartment - nothing more than a walk of fifteen minutes, including the amount of time it’d take to descend the two storeys from the floor he lived on..
As he shut the flimsy door behind himself and began to descend the cold concrete steps once more, he noticed how empty and quiet the whole building seemed. Indeed, all the people he had passed on his way up priorly had vanished. Until he left the building, it seemed as if everyone except for him had disappeared completely.
Outside, the sky was grey. Clouds had swiftly overtaken the sunny blue skies - replacing them with a darkening overcast blanket. There were scant few people even present on the sidewalks, and even fewer cars occupied the streets. So little traffic that it was even safe to simply cross the street without looking.
He reached the other side without issue, his sullen eyes drifting around, assessing his environment. This part of the city seemed almost overwhelmingly grey. Even billboards, posters and advertisements plastered over brick walls and signposts were worn and old, whilst the cleaner, higher rising levels of the city loomed ominously in the backdrop. Always looking down from their perches upon high. Arthur couldn’t help but to stare with awe at those glass monoliths, sparkling in the incandescence of the late evening.
Just around the corner was a small convenience store, with four gas pumps just outside. A gas station belonging to the HEXAGON Corporation. A rough looking bearded man leant up against the wall just beside the front door, a grimy glass thing covered in a peeling decal of the company logo - a red hexagon with a green droplet in its centre. This man, accompanied by a shaggy dog, was extremely tired looking. Wearing clothes of patchwork no better than rags, a beard crusted with dirt and some kind of rusty necklace. He looked to Arthur pleadingly as the student passed by. The dog growled and gnashed its teeth when Arthur approached.
“Excuse me, young man… my job at the toothpaste factory replaced me.. and I’ve got nothin’ left… Can you please spare any change?”
Another victim of the same dilemma Arthur had brushed aside earlier.
“Some sacrifices are necessary, Arthur.” The words of his Finances lecturer not two hours earlier..
Arthur immediately reached for his pockets, searching them for the loose coins he had. He fished them out, whilst the old man quickly snatched them all with grubby hands and dirty fingernails.
“Thank you, kind sir.”
Arthur smiled briefly and nodded his respects.
“You remind me of me, kid.” The tramp called after him as he made his way into the store. However, what he did not notice was the gang of about four people appearing from a crusty, destitute alleyway tucked beside the gas station. All of these delinquents’ eyes were locked on the beggar beside the front door. Their expressions were cold, nasty.
Meanwhile, Arthur was inside the store, looking for the cheapest thing he could find to pair with the few old salt packets and one potato he had knocking about back home. (Neglecting to mention the spoiled milk or the booze filling the refrigerator, since Arthur was prioritising edible food.)
Eventually, he found a tin of corned beef and some tinned broccoli. According to the labels and some basic math, he would be able to afford this with the notes he had remaining whilst receiving a few coins back in change.
So walking up to the counter, he presented his items to the cashier, who then began to scan up their totals. In the corner of his eye, through the opaque glass at the storefront, Arthur noticed some kind of commotion outside. Shadows moving quickly and erratically. Then, all of a sudden, the cashier snapped him out of his train of thought.
“That’ll be three forty-five, sir.”
Arthur’s eyes widened.
“Three forty-five?? That can’t be right..” He produced what cash he had left from his pockets desperately, as if showing them to the cashier would be enough. His heart began to thump in his chest.
The cashier, on the other hand, began to stir uncomfortably, almost desperate to avoid any kind of eye contact with Arthur.
“I think you must be mistaken.. sir. That adds up to three forty-five.” Arthur shook his head in retaliation.
“I’ve done the maths in my head, according to the labels it should be two seventy-nine!”
“Well obviously, the labels need to be updated, Einstein.”
“Well that can’t be right..” Arthur began blinking rapidly, breathing irregularly, pinching his nose. He didn’t seem to notice that the cashier had begun inching towards his right side of the counter, sweat beading on his forehead behind the shadow casted by the company cap he wore.
“Sir… You’re becoming violent. Please calm down.”
“I’m not!” Arthur was getting exasperated, “I’m just confuse-”
“I’m going to have to warn you that below the counter, I am currently holding a company firearm, which I am authorised to use deadly force if I am threatened.” The cashier said, a sudden and dark look etched into his face. It was at this point when Arthur simply gave up. He put up his hands in surrender.
“Okay. I’ll leave!”
So he turned around, taking his cash with him but leaving his food and fled from the store swiftly, his heart slamming in his chest and his eyes welling up with tears.
Upon leaving the store, slamming the door shut behind him, he could not have possibly prepared himself for what he found outside.
The beggar had disappeared. Instead, the space he once stood was splattered with blood. Fresh blood.
“Oh no..” Arthur felt so caught up in his emotions that he couldn’t help but follow the trail. He couldn’t even try to think logically, he took his first instinct. His heart thumped harder in his chest when he heard shouts of pain and laughter from around the corner.
As he turned it, he noticed the stricken body of the dog - strewn across the ground of the alleyway. The poor animal had been beaten to within an inch of its life. Perhaps it would not survive. Arthur felt a heat rise up within himself as he stormed across the alleyway, approaching the four gang members who at that present moment were all kicking the beggar ruthlessly, blood spilling in all directions.
The rage Arthur felt at that moment was beyond words. It made all of his skin all over his body prickle with heat, his eyes widened, his fingertips tingles and his teeth bared. Something within him had truly snapped - and he was no longer truly himself at this moment.
The gangsters noticed his swift approach and decided to stop beating the beggar, turning to face the new component of their situation.
Their group consisted of three somewhat overweight, mean looking mooks in black beanies and dark hoodies, led by a slightly more lean guy in a black shirt. They all shared faces like rats.
“What are you doing.” Arthur growled through gritted teeth, barely able to contain his absolute rage
“Turn the other way if you know what’s good for you. This isn’t your business.”
They all took a subconscious step back from Arthur, however. The alleyway grew very cold. Lightning slashed the sky from nowhere.
“People like you disgust me..” Arthur spat, in a voice quite unlike his own. The pins and needles he felt in his fingers had consumed his arms, and even his legs. His ears began to ring, a headache forming behind his eyes.
One of the criminals took a step forward, whilst all of them withdrew pistols and knives - for whatever reason, they all began to feel threatened immensely. All the gangster’s biological alarms rang incessantly.
“None of you will leave this alleyway.”
To be continued…
END THEME : Ludwig Van Beethoven - Moonlight Sonata, 1st Movement
