R e t r o s p e c t • PSYPHY

Chapter 6: C a r p e D i e m

Meanwhile, in Baltimore.

The chill of night had set in. People were nonchalantly walking the streets, minding their business. It was well into the evening, so there weren't more people than there should've been on a Sunday night. There's a wide alley way, between two rough and aged buildings. There's nothing there, save for a couple of dumpsters and the occasional stray cat. Then a steady vibration begins passing through the alley street. It was especially strong in a small circle in the middle. Then very slowly, a head starts to protrude from the pavement. It rises, as a man starts to come into frame. There's tight long black curls atop his head. His skin is a soft and youthful mocha, but adult evidently by modest facial hair. He's wearing a white Armani suit, with a red tie, and dress shoes to match. The totality of his body smoothly finishes rising from the ground. Almost seamlessly, and silently, he completes his transition into this world.

"Ah, didn't take as long as I thought. Now, where are they?" he says.

He looks around, the vibration of the alleyway still going steady. The building next to him strengthens with trembles. A circle in the outside wall of it, begins to visually distort. Just as before, a person's body begins phasing through it. His fingers penetrate from the brick, without damaging the actual material at all. He slowly forces his right arm through. It's thick, and clearly muscular even within his indigo suit. His shoulder comes out, followed by his torso, and upper body. He stops midway.

"Ha, didn't think you'd get here first." He chuckles, a matured and coarse voice.

"Second place isn't that bad. But you might not even get that, if you don't hurry up."

The muscular man snickers, then continues his perplexing phasing through the building wall. He slides out from brick like a slug. Dropping a few feet from the side of the wall, but landing firmly on his feet. He looked as if he could bench a good four hundred pounds. His skin is that familiar caramel, but rougher, tougher, like he had hardened over the years. He looked older than the Armani suited man, but definitely within a decade. He had a smoother bald head that showed his veins in certain areas. Though in a suede indigo suit, he appeared like the type who was a body builder or an x-con. 

"Where's Casey and the geezer?" he asked.

"I don't know. We never exactly exchanged numbers, Julbe." the other replied.

"Well if you didn't insist on a damn spur of the moment plan like this then we would've been coordinated."

"I don't know how this stuff works."

"Obviously, kid. But can you at least fucking act like it?"

BANG.

One of the dumpsters in the alleyway flapped open. The two men's attention promptly focused on it. They stared at it, as about thirty seconds passed with no cause to how it opened. Then, a girl pops up from within the garbage. She's wearing a scarlet red floral dress, like she was attending church before this. Her hair is long and wavy, though pinned in a loose bun. She's short, with the skin of a teenager and the hue of a mixed race. She stares back at the two men, in silence, a short distance away from them. She slowly raises her arm, and takes a bite of a glazed donut.

"Sick!"

"Ahhh, Casey, seriously? That's disgusting." The Armani man said.

She burst into laughter, then hops out of the dumpster.

"Relax tightwads. They were in the box, probably just past their sell by date or somethin," Casey says walking up to them.

Julbe sighs and shakes his head. The other folds his arms.