March 5th, 984. 20:02 (17:58 Remaining)[1]
The message on the beeper scratched itself out.
CLEAR.[2]
--------------------------------------------------------------------
I'd been awoken, of course i had, that noise the backstreets regularly chose to make for an hour had stirred me from my well deserved beauty sleep.
Thousands....nah, millions of footsteps, all moving in a single rhythm trough the backstreets, a horrendous one that is, the kind you'd get from scraping a fork against a whiteboard.
Things that we're somewhat human, bipedally aproximmating as such atleast, charging trough the backstreets in a calm rampage like a tidal wave, clearing any ''filth'' they found along their way.
The barely audible ruffle of my clothes echoed troughout the room as i peeled myself off Byron's chest, bare feet patting against the plush carpet beneath, beginning to slowly walk towards a window.
''Should probably get shoes with all that money...'' I thought, stopping at the windowsill, moving to rest my elbows onto it, then my head onto my hands.
Never really got to observe the spectacle, i used to just cower in fear in my little concrete box anytime it happened.
Funny story actually, got so bored on one particular sleepless night i'd decided to start counting how many footsteps they all produced in unison.
Gave up after 5 minutes, obviously, but i wasn't that far off with my guesses from what i was seeing here, in the context of how many sweepers roam the backstreets, being off by a million or two really isn't that high of a percentage.
They we're doing their job, cleaning the aftermath of that little slaughter, and whatever poor soul decided to stay out at this hour.
''Catharthic i guess.'' I muttered to myself once more, taking a sidelong glance at Byron, sleeping peacefully on the couch, having supplemented the missing warmth where i used to be by grabbing a pillow.
I didn't need to wake Byron up to ask him what had happened between me falling asleep at the cafe and waking up here resting against his chest while he was sprawled out across a couch, the peices of the puzzle we're pretty easy to put together.
''And after i spesificaly told him to not intervene...''
''....''
I made my way troughout the room towards the table, picking up a grey box of cigarretes and a fancy golden lighter.
''Guess i gotta smoke the whole pack then~''
Brought it to my lips, chewed down on the cig, felt the sizzle of heat as i lit the tip with the lighter.
Took a few puffs, really let myself feel the burn in the back of my throat.
Moved back to the windowsill.
I exhaled.
''Ah~ Bliss.'' I began to take a hit of the cigarrete again.
Never thought i'd be in this position, staring down calmly at a bunch of rampaging sweepers from the 30th floor, smoking an actual big brand box of cigarretes, having....
People be afraid of me, for once...not the other way around.
''...''
''Fuck this is nice.''
My eyes wandered around the room, couldn't help but let out a little hum, followed by a whistle, nice blue carpet underneath my feet, walls and window that weren't collapsing...had actual paint on them too, a nice shade of black, bunch of windows too, let you really hit home how much better you were then all those rats below.
The kurokumo clan sure knew how to pick a good spot for their little base of operations, had a fancy granite slated kitchen, nice mahogany table there to boot, the couch where byron was sleeping was pretty good too.
There was a TV too, although im not sure why it would be there when-
....
''....Theres no fucking way right.''
My fingers scrambled down to my pocket, i'd stolen a phone from some wierd dead lady back at that cafe, and if there was a TV here, then that means...
Turned the thing on, frantically, swiped past the lock screen, my eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
''....''
''Holy shit they have wifi.''
''.....''
''LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!''
Now look, prancing around the apartment at 4 AM might be a sign of mental illness but in this case i think it was well deserved, even if i knocked some chairs over in the process.
''HAHAHA! I FUCKIN' MADE IT, I FUCKIN MADE I-''
Unfortunately, my prancing was cut off by a polite, yet firm knock on the door.
....
Didn't answer it just yet, decided to look outside for a quick second again....
Yeah the-the sweepers we're still there so what the hell was...?
...Shook my head to clear my thoughts, pulled the phone back into my pocket, and tentatively reached for the door handle, opening it until it was ajar slightly...the creaking was creepy.
So i poked my head trough the gap.....and-
''It took you an unnececarily long amount of time to open that door.'' There stood that index messanger from earlier, his leg coiled back like he was allmost about to kick it open.
''It was barely 20 seconds.''
''Which is still too long a time to wait, now, may i come in, the front door is closed so i can assure you that the sweepers won't be an issue.''
''...Then...how'd you get in here...''
''I was sleeping in a closet located within this building for 4 hours.''
''.....Why?''
''Because i was waiting for you to be done with, so we could have a chat.''
''...''
''If you wanna kill me you know theres more convicing arguments then ''Index member wants a chat''''
''Oh please if lord hermes ordered me to kill you i'd be prancing with joy like you just we're a moment ago.''
''WAIT YOU HEARD THAT!?''
''Of course i did, your very exsistance is an affront to my sense of hearing, now i'l ask again, may i come in?''
''Motherfuc- Whatever...'' I pouted like a bratty child and just swung the door open for him to come inside.
He opened a single eye to inspect the room, his gaze falling upon Byron for a little too long for my comfort.
''I see you've settled into your new abode quite well.'' The messanger muttered, walking over to the kitchen, where i of course followed him, trying my best to look intimidating...
Which was very difficult without the immediate threat of life ending violence and a whole lot of darkness....
He stopped at the table, pulling out a chair before sitting cross legged on it, then gesturing towards the other end.
I obliged, sitting down opposite of him.
...
And for about a minute straight, neither of us spoke...just....sat there.
I tilted my head alot to stare at him but he was just sitting there close eyed, tranquil expression on his face.
''....Soooooo like-''
''They we're all relayed to me.'' He leaned forwards. ''Every kill you've performed, your aptitude for violence is impressive.''
''Thanks- i guess...?''
''That wasn't a compliment, i had to hear 100 beepings from lord hermes in under 5 minutes, my ears would've had a better time if i rubbed them against a cheese grater.''
''Oh, my bad then.''
''But still, your creativity with weapons is commendable, almost reminds me of someone actually....''
''Ahhhhh~ Stop, you're making me blush hereeeee~.''
''The worst index proxy i ever had the displeasure of working with, that's who you remind me of, a mask wearing clowny excuse for a member of the index.''
''Did you just come here to stroke my ego a little and then insult me?''
....
His lips twitched imperceptibly upwards.
''I would never.'' Sure you wouldn't bitch.
Took another drag of my cigarrete to calm myself down ''Peice of shit...'' I muttered, sliding the box across the table as i angrily exhaled smoke.
''You can take one if you want.''
''Pardon?''
''I said you can take one if you want.''
''Do you honestly think i'd indulge in such a pointless activity as smok-''
The device in his pocket beeped again, eye gently gliding open to peer down at the newly displayed prescript.
''...''
''Very well'' He shut his eye again ''Pass me the lighter.''
''Huh? But didn't you-''
''Just pass me the lighter.''
''...''
''Okay....?''
With a simple flick of my wrist, i threw the lighter at him, which was caught effortlessly, he ignited the flame, took a cigarrete from the box, pulled his collar down so as to not burn it i assume, brought the cigarrete to his lips, and lit.
He inhaled for a good few seconds, before exhaling a few puffs of smoke, lit lighter still in hand, staring at the celling like he was deep in thought, once he spoke, his voice was still calm and deadpan.
''Hm.....never judge a book by its cover i suppose, this is infuriatingly soothing.'' His thumb let go, snuffing the flame out.
''Told you so~''
''This does not mean i intend to make a habit of this'' He dusted some cigarrete ash off onto the ashtray.
''Sure you won't...''
Another long silence
...Tapped my fingers against the table a little to try and quell it...
....
''So are you gonna tell me what you're here for orr.....?''
''The prescript'' He responded simply. ''Your execution of it spesificaly.''
''You've managed to complete it in a fraction of the alloted time limit, and your methods of executing it we're...''
Those blissfully closed eyes narrowed.
''Interesting...''
''Although it kept me awake, it was intriguing seeing all those methods of murder, you have a true knack for it.'' He calmly took another hit of his cigarrete.
Slowly, he exhaled. ''And thus....as much as it pains me to admit it, i am intrigued by you, and the prescripts seem to be aswell.''
His eyes briefly opened to glance at the clock on the wall, 4:30 AM.
''....Hm, i shouldn't dally with words any longer.''
His hands slowly came up to his other pocket, procuring...
...an....iron horseshoe...?
''...Uhm....is that....a gift...or something.....?''
''Mhm'' He nodded ''The prescript has decreed that i give this to you, as for why i cannot tell.''
''....Seriously?''
''Yes, seriously.'' He placed it down on the table, then sat up. ''Now if you'l excuse me, i have prescripts to deliver.''
The messanger proceeded to get up, and barely a moment after he'd left my line of sight, i heard the door slam shut behind him.
I slowly walked across the table to inspect the horseshoe....it was....iron? I guess?
''What could this possibly be for.....'' I muttered to myself....
''Esoteric prick....'' I thought as i shoved the thing back into my pocket.
The clock on the wall finnaly hit 4:34 soonthere after, signalling the end of the horde of sweepers outside, finnaly giving me some much needed peace and quiet.
And once it did, i could finnaly have a moment to collect my thoughts and rest....
..By grabbing every single bottle of whiskey in the cupboards.
Turning on the TV to watch some dramas.
And seeing just how much time i could use to have some fun before father decided to wake up.
[1] ''An oxymoron if i've ever heard one....'' -J
[2] Kindly play ""Portal" Mysterious Space Background Music No Copyright" for optimal reading experience