The BonaFides
Volume 1: The Beginning
Chapter 1
Mr Firestone entered Room 117 at the legendary Wayward Inn. He
rolled his hand smoothly over the discoloured, stained doorknob and
entered the room with a cool slither. The curtains were closed as always and
two of Mr Firestone’s co workers, or thugs to be more precise, were stood in
front of the covered windows.
The whole room was dusty and dark, a picture of a broken road hung on the
wall which was covered in the most hideous wallpaper, the road in the
picture was split in half, as if torn apart by a bolt of reverential lightning,
one half of the road was covered in falling rain, the other half covered in
blemishing sunshine. Underneath the picture was written “Heaven or Hell?
Artist Unknown”. Mr Firestone looked up at it and smiled shortly, almost
wistfully as he did so. He then turned his attention and his scolding eyes
towards the man sat on a old creaking wooden chair in the very middle of
the room, it rested on one of many splintered and broken floorboards.
The man did not have a scratch on his thin, Indian looking face, around his
chest, arms, legs and stomach was rope. It was tightly tied to perfection for
optimum concealment. Mr Firestone was dressed in his Sunday best, not a
single miniscule hair out of place hanging in the room’s hot air, not a stain
on his straight, cardboard like face or indeed on his sparkling white teeth,
which seemed unnaturally white without imperfection. Mr Firestone pointed
to the door and the man left in the flicker of an eye. Mr Firestone and the
prisoner were alone, the prisoner spoke in a heavily pained voice and yet a
wide and wry smile spread across his thin, tired and drawn face, “Going
somewhere nice Mr Firestone?” the prisoner’s accent was cool and crisp,
without a trace of pain or weariness, Mr Firestone laughed out loud and
spoke clearly and with a touch of familiarity, “Sharp as ever, aren’t you
Kable?!” he spoke in a devilish voice that echoed of the walls with a
vengeance, Kable sighed tiredly, moving his head slowly as he spoke,
“Aren’t you going to offer me a drink? It’s not very welcoming here
y’know” Kable spoke so quietly as if he didn’t want to be heard but he knew
Mr Firestone would hear him. Mr Firestone circled him as he proccesed his
thoughts, he knew he had the measure of Kable in more ways than one but
he would not let Kable know this, Mr Firestone spoke in a cold yet clear
