Vic

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One a.m., the phone rings.

At first, I assumed the loud, incessant rings were echoing from a dream inside my head, until the fog in my brain cleared and my eyes opened. Benjamin's face lit up my screen, mouth up in a lopsided grin. I rubbed my eyes and slid to answer.

"Benjamin, do you know what time it is?"

"Vic," he groaned softly. "Vic, please, I need your..."

I frowned, sitting up in bed.

"Benjamin, what's going on? Are you alright?"

"He took Ashley," he murmured, as if falling asleep.

"Who? Who took Ashley?"

"The man with the blue eyes," he said.

"What man? Are you drunk?"

"No. Vic – Vic, I'm bleeding. My head... it's pounding. Why's it so fucking loud?"

"Benjamin, are you hurt? Where are you bleeding from?"

"My face is bleeding," he said. "I think... I think I'm falling asleep."

"No, Benjamin, listen to me. Do not fall – "

"Too late," he chuckled. "He's gonna get me anyway. He's gonna get us both."

"The man with the blue eyes?"

"Mmmhmm. At least, that's what he said he was gonna do."

"Where are you?"

"He said we killed someone, Vic. Who did we kill?"

"We didn't kill anybody. Tell me where you are."

"22 Ebert, apartment 234."

"I'll be there, just hold on."

"Don't know if I can, Vic. I'm just..."

"Benjamin, hold on. Stay awake."

"I can't," he whispered. "I'm already falling."


© A.G. Travers 2015

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