Mafia Servant

Chapter 29 - Fools

Bon Appétit! :D

Elizabeth's POV

I was trapped in a sea of fire. Screams came from every direction but the loudest one belonged to me, as fire licked my skin, melting it like ice cream on a hot day. Writhing in agony, I clawed my own body to stop the impossible pain.

A pair of amber eyes materialised in the fog of stifling smoke.

"Alexander..."

An unbearable shot of pain speared into my head as I woke up. It overtook my entire body for a few seconds, paralysing me with pain and fear at the same time. Clutching to my head, I practiced deep breathings to calm myself down. Soon, the pain lowered to a insistent throbbing. Popping a painkiller, I sat up and leaned back against the cold wall.

Sixth time. This recurring dream has happened for six times already, replaying the same name, the same pain and the same eyes. Eyes that belongs to a phantom of the Ghost Valley and a name that belongs to a wheelchair-bound lady.

In the pitch-black basement of the Cheese In The Trap, I searched for my phone under the pillow. My glaring screen showed that it was a little past four am, where I should be in deep sleep. But since the dream started, I could never go back to sleep once I am jolted awake. Not that I could toss and turn on my mattress until the day reaches a functional time.

I pouted as I looked around in the dark, dispirited. Today was a day I really wanted to skip past.

The girl in the mirror looked like a zombie. Her pallor exaggerated her darkened eye circles, a result from the lack of sleep since she have gotten back from the hill. Initially, she blamed the trauma for her dream but it did not made much sense. The past three years had put her into similar experiences but she had gotten past them very quickly.

Not the same thrilling near-death experience, but there were some nights I had thought I wouldn't see tomorrow's morning.

"Whatever," I muttered to myself. Putting on the new black leather jacket Rafael had gifted me, I was about to leave the washroom, when the bottle of perfume caught my eye.

Angelo's gift was a bottle of perfume. Wrapped up in a crystalline bottle, the clear liquid inside smells of fresh lavender and a hint of fruity citrus. I could not decipher what brand this perfume was from but it is heavenly.

Though a perfume would be an ideal gift for many girls, it is not for me. Because, my job depended on me not leaving a trail. Online or offline, it is the one rule I go by. Wearing perfume would only cost me.

The gift showed the difference in our thinking. Angelo and I were never on the same page.

Julian's birthday gift was indeed handy. The night vision sunglasses was a necessity as I walked through the Black Market. It has gotten much quieter as the night moved towards near dawn and the last of the night owls starts to return home. My clarity in the darkened Black Market was the same as my own vision during daylight. The nineteen year old had proudly revealed his efforts to get the Arc to create the sunglasses for me, as Julian recognises the Arc's superb handiwork while creating the Oracle's mask.

Named A man's last stop, this was the place for the sick, dying or dead. The run-down establishment was laughable in comparison to the Saint's hospital. There were no doctors and nurses bearing surgical masks on their faces, just uniformly clothed people roving around. Curtains instead of doors were used to separate patients and shouts and crashes happened every few minutes.

Taking a deep breath, I walked in, wishing that I'll come out safely.

I avoided pools of unknown substances and sped to the only room with a proper door. "Dickhead doc, I need your help." I barged into the room without knocking. I hit aside the silver platter came flying in my direction and it clattered nosily on the floor.