Art's Conduct

Art's Conduct: Shift =12=

The phone buzzed almost instantaneously.

Remember, what we said about the police? We weren't joking.

I stood there in defiance. Well, I'm not joking either, so-

I didn't get to finish typing in my sentence by the time the phone buzzed again saying: Drop out now, and you all die.

My eyes widened at that, and I searched the crowd for any suspicious activity. There had to be something, but the saddening truth was that they were trained to do this. Of course they were. They were an underground mob that was for sure. How could they have possibly planned this out from start to finish? But my collective question was...

What did they want from me? 

My gaze landed straight back to Mioun. 

He was sitting on the steps, cradling as much of his injured leg carefully to him. The scene just made me want to back out then and there, but the way Lore looked at his side - staring with a fiery contempt made me feel like I had to do this...like I had to do this to protect them.

I raised my phone and tapped away at the buttons. What else do you want me to do were my exact words. Of course, they would like this. This was what these deranged people desired from the start...for me to submit to their will like a form of inferioty complex, or maybe, I was taking things way too dramatically. 

Leave and get in the car. Don't turn back whether it's a friend calling you or anyone.

I balled my fist and set it on my forehead to recollect my thoughts because, at this point, I didn't know what to do anymore. Should I have just made a run for it? Or, should I have just told someone else, so they could tell the police? 

This was all too absurd to make the least bit of sense!

I took one more look at my friends, from Mioun who was nursing his injury and Lore who was about ready to cause a riot. I almost laughed at the scene before I set my head on the current situation and turned my back to them. I took in a deep breath, beginning my trek to the convertible. I went on slowly as if waiting for some miracle to happen, but no one called my name. It was as if I never existed which really was the case, save for the exception of five people. 

The streets grew darker and darker on the way back. I was half surprised that I was able to find my way with all the twists and turns I had to take. It became less populated the deeper I went into the maze - almost like a ghost town of sorts, minus the creepy factor of isolation. It was quite the opposite. It felt like every corner I turned, there were a pair of eyes watching me. I had to swivel around a couple of times to shake the feeling off, but it never dispersed, even when I got to the convertible. It was only when I got in that the feeling brushed off.

The buildings rolled by when the car started. A black screen separated me from the front seats, so all I could see were the side windows, and they didn't give me much of an idea about where I was heading. I must have fallen asleep at some point or other because when the car lurched up, I felt groggy and disoriented, almost heady, but a fast recovery was on my side before the car lurched up again and the nausea restarted. 

I slapped a hand on my forehead right as the car stopped and the lock clicked open. I took that as an initiative to get out, only to duck back in.

The phone vibrated in my palm, and I just stared at it. How could I not do otherwise? The Louvre was facing me like the Statue of Liberty without her gown, book, and torch on! In other words for all the dimwitted nitwits...naked, bare, or transparent!

A homeless man meandered by, and he could have been any homeless man if he hadn't dropped a piece of paper emblazoned with my very name! This was a setup. I was being tricked by Hollywood and was actually being paid in the end. Why couldn't I play along, until I got the check? 

Because I wasn't that much of a neanderthal, yet I found myself skittering over to the slip and picking it up to read its contents.

Enter the Louvre.

I tried to find the subliminal messages behind the text, but I came up with nothing, yet I had to do this. This was all for the innocent people back in the plaza. I can do this. Dian, you can do this.

I took in a deep breath and charged towards the entrance.

I was ready for this. That was what my mind said, but something was physically holding me back. There was something really holding me back, and when I took a peek, a hand was wrapped around my upper arm. 

"You don't want to do that,"

The same hand drug me back right as a group of police cars circled around the entrance with their weapons out. Their blaring noise slowly began to diminish the further we got from the museum. It was still there, but not as prominent as before.

I looked up to see my savior's face. I could have been throttled if he or she hadn't come, but nearly stumbled back at how strikingly identical we looked.

"Who are you?" I asked, nearly out of breath from trying to catch up with her quick strides.

She turned her eyes to look at me. At first, I thought she wouldn't say anything when she averted her eyes, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she said two words, "Jhiabett Blanc."