Continued from last chapter.
The masked man had left the mafia boss at his apartment, walking off to who knows where. Most likely to his place of residence, to retire for the night as it was very late. Trickster wouldn't have to worry about the well being of his right hand man, Surveyor. After all, he has witnessed some of Surveyor's assassinations. He is well off to protect himself if anything were to happen.
The young man entered his apartment, gazing at his apartment. It wasn't anything fancy. A kitchen, living area, bedroom, and bathroom. It wasn't much, but to him it was home. As long as it has a bed, it's a home, right?
He then turned around, facing his door, and locking it, before turning back around, and walking to his bedroom. Once he entered, he flicked on the light switch, and walked over to his desk. He laid his suitcase on it, and opened it up, taking out some of the documents in there. His desk had some drawers, which had copy's of all documents, reports, etc. in there neatly organized. Aesop had a little system, where he would organize the papers by alphabetical order, date, topic, and a few more categories.
After he had put away the documents, he would close the drawers and exit the room. From there he would go to the bathroom, turning on the light switch and looking at his reflection in the mirror, as he took off the jacket draped around his shoulders, took off his gloves, and started to undo his tie. He locked eyes with his reflection, as if staring into his own soul to see what was going on in there. He didn't see much, just an average man, who looks more sickly then depressed, living a life of crime with his partners. He saw a heart with chains wrapped around it and a big lock, keeping it locked from the rest of the world. The young man had always kept his heart locked away, in fear that he would fall in love and loose the love of his life, due to his dangerous lifestyle. It would be his fault for his partners death. He had a terrible phobia of loosing the ones he cared about, ever since...
The mafia boss had shaken his head at this thought, snapping out of his own trance. He had usually never let his mind wonder to such thoughts, although when your by yourself, its more easier to actually pay attention to your thoughts, instead of paying no mind to them.
He had felt something warm run down his cheek, as he placed a hand to his cheek, and now felt a tear in his hand. He hadn't even realized he was crying.
"You're so weak, Carl." He muttered to himself, as he wiped the rest of his tears.
Aesop had never usually shown his emotions of sadness or despair in front of others, let alone his peers. He was under the impression that not letting anybody see his soft side, would result in him being more respected. He had always locked up his sadness, so he wouldn't be seen as "weak" or "easy to manipulate." He got more accustomed to this when starting the mafia, so he wouldn't get caught and have a scary aura. Only when he was at the comfort of his home, would he dare shed a tear.
Trickster had looked at himself in the mirror again, scoffing at his pathetic reaction, before putting his hands to his low ponytail, and slowly sliding off the hair tie holding it in place, before he heard a knock at his door. Aesop had only gotten the hair tie halfway off, before being interrupted. He sighed, leaving his bathroom and walking to the front door, and looking through the peep hole. There, he saw one of his neighbors, Emma Woods. With hesitation, he had unlocked the door, but kept the chain lock still in place.
"Good evening Mr. Carl." The young gardener had spoke.
"Good evening."
The young women had looked at the male, looking at his clothes. It seemed she had interrupted him undressing from his work clothes.
"Just got back from work?"
"Yes."
Aesop kept the conversations short and simple. He did not like, nor care for interacting with his neighbors. Well, for most of his neighbors anyways. There were some he could tolerate, such as the gravekeeper. He was a nice man, kept to himself, quiet, and never usually bothered him. On the other hand, you had the gardener, Emma Woods. Quite a chatterbox. She would always try to engage in conversation with her neighbors and become acquaintances with them. She was on the neighborhood watch, along with some others. Looking for criminals, and keeping their neighborhood safe. How ironic.
"I see, I see. Well I hope it's not too much to ask of you, but the others and I would really appreciate some help on the neighborhood watch. We could really make our neighborhood more safer."
"You already know the answer to that, Ms. Woods. My work keeps me busy most of the time. I'll try to organize a day off."
A frown had appeared on the gardeners face.
"I must say, you're always busy embalming. Must be quite a lucrative job then?"
"I picked embalming as my career, not for the money, but because it was what made me satisfied."
"I see then. I'll talk with you some other time then, since it is quite late. Rest well, Jerry." The gardener had said, before walking off to her apartment.
Jerry, was not the name the that the young man had used, it was more of an alias. It would be quite foolish to give out your actual name to your neighbors if your in a mafia. Jerry was once the name of someone he had known, or more specifically had custody of him. The only people who know Trickster's real name are Surveyor, Puppeteer, and Whiplash. Jerry is long gone by now, and since nobody really remembered him, it was very easy to just pose as his deceased uncle.
Trickster had made sure she had returned to her own apartment, from viewing her at a distance, before closing the door, and walking to his bedroom to grab some nightwear and underclothing, and setting it on his bed neatly, so he could change into it once he had finished showering.
He had returned to the bathroom, where he unbuttoned his blue dress shirt, and had taken off the belt from his pants, and slipped them off. He had also taken his hair out of the low ponytail he usually does. He had opened the faucet to the shower, moving the handle to the left, trying to find a good temperature he was fine with. Once he had down that, he had stepped in the shower, closing the sliding door behind him. He grabbed some soap (SOAP) and began washing himself. The shower was nice and soothing, considering the long day he had at work. The water had run down his body, glistening in the light.
Once he had finished washing himself, he grabbed a towel, and dried himself off, before tying the towel around his waist. He would then proceed to grab some toothpaste, and his toothbrush, and brush his teeth, and tongue for a few minutes until they were clean again. Then, turning off the bathroom lights, grabbing his work clothes, and leaving to his bedroom. Now, in his bedroom he had the grabbed the night wear, and had started to change into it, putting on the shirt that came with it, and then stepping into the matching bottoms. He had organized his work clothes and put them away.
The young man had finally finished his nightly routine, so he could finally rest for the night. He had grabbed the covers of his bed, and made a little entrance for him to lay down. Then he pulled the covers back up, and closed his eyes. He would be able to rest, but not for long, since he would have to wake up early to get ready for work, what a shame. And with that, the young man had finally drifted to sleep.
(In his dream)
The dream seemed to be in black and white, with a nostalgic aura to it. It was a long corridor, with a little white glow at the end. What could this mean? Is this death? Had he passed away in his sleep? Who's know? There's only one way to find out. Hesitantly, he took a few steps forward, the sound of his footsteps echoing. The hallway seemed harmless enough, so he continued to walk down it. Whispers upon whispers could be heard, as he made his way further down the hall; the white light starting to glow more and get bigger as he got closer.
Once he was finally close enough, he had looked back at the hallway, which now had an unsettling feeling to it, which was strange, since he had just walked down there just moments ago. He didn't know why, but it felt as if something was telling him to leave the hallway. If he didn't, the consequences would most likely result in a nightmare, or something worse. The young man decided to not choose that fate, and so walked
towards the bright light.
On the other side of the white light, was a memory from a few years ago. This memory has taken place when Jerry was still alive, but why now? Why was he dreaming of this now? Why this specific memory?
"CARL!" The old hag had yelled, sitting in a chair, with his crutches on the side of his chair, leaning on it.
The younger man had entered the room, holding his hands behind his back, in an embalming uniform, not daring to say a word. He knew the consequences if he did dare to, but it was getting to old. After all, he was now a young adult, no longer a teenager. He was getting sick of having to take care of his old mentor. He walked over to his mentor.
"Yes, Jerry?" Aesop had said.
"DON'T CALL ME THAT YOU DISGRACE! I RAISED YOU WHEN YOUR MOTHER PASSED. TH LEAST YOU COULD DO IS CALL ME UNCLE JERRY!" The old man hysterically said, waving his arms at the apprentice.
The apprentice simply did nothing. He did not flinch, he did not blink. He just stood there. He knew that Jerry's time would come very soon. A human can only withstand so many years of mental and physical abuse, especially at a young age. Being forced to inject people with potassium chloride, practically ending their life was not going to rub well in the future.
"Did you inject the man ? Those old weasels in the Grantz family paid good money to have him killed and embalmed and you know I'm to old to do it myself!"
"Yes, uncle Jerry. He has passed on."
"Finally, something your worth doing! You would think that you would be more appreciative about all the stuff I've done for you."
"..."
"And what about the potassium chloride? Have we ran out?"
"Yes sir."
"And you didn't think of going out to get some more?! What is wrong with you? HONESTLY YOUR MOTHER WAS STUPID TO HAVE YOU. YOU CAN'T DO ONE THING RIGHT YOU INCOMPETENT FOOL!"
"...Actually sir, I believe we still have some left."
"I DON'T CARE. YOU SHOULD'VE KNOWN THAT BEFORE COMING TO ME. CAN'T YOU DO ONE THING RIGHT AND STOP EMBARRASING THE CARL BRAND?"
That was Aesop's breaking point. His final straw. After years of living with an old abusive hag, it was time that Aesop had returned the favor.
"Well, there is one thing I can do to stop embarrassing this brand."
"We'll go on then! Do what you must."
The young man had smirked, and pulled out a syringe filled with a high dosage of the remaining potassium chloride.
"It's a shame really, but nothing lasts forever. That includes you, killer."
With that said, Aesop had held down his old mentor, while the man underneath him struggled, and tried to push Aesop off him, but to no avail, he has failed. The young embalmer had found the perfect opportunity to inject him, and therefore took it. Jerry's eyes shot wide open, as the lethal injection had begun almost immediately, putting him into cardiac arrest. The mentor had wheezed and gasped for air, as the poison had killed him within a few minutes. He had fell to the floor with his eyes wide open, staring at ground eternally.
The man once known as Jerry was no more. His life has ended, and now he would go to hell, soon followed my the young man in his later years. Aesop was finally free of his mentor's instructions, and could pursue something else, in Jerry's name. All it needed was a simple cover up story. Which wasn't exactly hard to do. Faking his death and going under the name of Jerry will surely keep suspicions low.
The young man had watched his memory replay. He had remembered the day very well. After covering up the death and faking his own, he went off to the bar to try his first drink, which he wasn't necessarily a fan of. He then proceeded to see the white light come back again, and become brighter, and brighter, before his vision was engulfed with the light, and then turned black.
(Out of dream)
Aesop had awoken to what would look as a late sunrise. He could only assume that it was around 05:50, so his work would be starting soon. He yawned, dragging himself out of bed, and over to his drawer. There, he took out some a change of work clothes, and headed over to the bathroom. He had changed out of his nightwear, and changed into his work clothes, setting his nightwear to the side to do his daily routine.
After his daily routine was finished, he grabbed his suitcase from his bedroom, and grabbed his keys, before walking out of his apartment and locking it, and going to his car. His car was a small but luxurious black car. Fit to seat 5 people. Once he reached his car, he put in the keys and entered his car.
He would then proceed to start his car and drive to the building he worked in.
(At work)
Aesop entered the building through the back door, making his way to the basement, where he knew his fellow peers would be waiting for him in his office. Once he arrived at his office, he pushed the door open, to be greater by his peers, the Pupeteer, Whiplash, and his right hand man Surveyor. Pupeteer was sitting on one of the sofa's, accompanied by Whiplash. Surveyor was standing next to Trickster's desk chair. The room had lit up when they saw their boss enter.
"Good morning, boss!" The cheerful Pupeteer has said.
"Good morning to you to, Tracy." Trickster said, taking a seat in his chair, followed by a smirk on Surveyor's face.
Whiplash had walked up to the the latter and handed him the report.
"We both read the report when we came in today. It's good." Whiplash said.
"Thank you both."
The Pupeteer had looked at the grandfather clock in his office.
"My, my! Well I must be going to finish the invention I'm working on. I'll converse with you all later." Pupeteer said, while walking out.
"I should go back to adding onto our Arsenal. If you need anything boss, you know where to find me." Kevin said, walking out as well.
The Surveyor had walked to the door as well, but turned back to face Aesop.
"It's a shame that I must go, but duty calls. Who else is going to kill our victims? I'll see you later, dear." Surveyor said, finally leaving Trickster alone.
With all of them gone, Trickster was all alone, which he didn't entirely hate. He would have time for himself now. Aesop took the report he showed to his peers, and filed it away in one of the filing cabinets in his office, before pausing. Something felt off.. As if he had a gut feeling something horrible would happen soon. He couldn't tell when, or how, but he knew.
Something was about to go down.
End.
Authors Note: omg ignored how the ending was rushed like i wanted to get this out today uhm might fix later idk anyways yeah bye