LJ Idol Season 8, Week 25: "Closer"
"Who Are You?"
A lot of my job is research, digging deep to find out who people are. In this case, the person I was digging on was me, and the research material was the back of my eyelids. It wasn't very stimulating reading.
The knock on the door interrupted me. "Come in," I called. The door opened to reveal a goblin looking dirtier than last week's laundry. "What can I do you for, er, what can I do for you?"
"Are you the one they call The Closer?" he said in a voice smooth as silk. Obviously one of those sneak-thieves.
Hm. That was a new one. "Who wants to know?"
"Someone with an open case who needs it closed," he spoke. "Someone who needs to find that which was lost."
"That's my specialty, alright. If it's lost, I can find it. Even if it isn't lost, I can still find it. What's gone missing?"
"Not what," he said, pulling a photo out of his purse and handing it to me. "Who. My wife, Telura."
I took the picture of a fox that would make a hunter drop his bow for good. How these guys get the dames, I'll never understand. "When did you last see her?"
"About two days ago," he whispered. "We were out on the deck at The Pit, smoking cigars. I went inside to get us a drink, and when I came back...she was gone." A tear formed at the corner of his eye as he spoke.
I jotted down a few notes, then looked back at him. "If she were in danger, where would she run?"
He thought for a second. "Probably there, actually. But the bartenders said they haven't seen her since."
I nodded grimly. "I guess I'll have to start there, then." Reaching into my pocket, I handed him one of my cards. "Leave your number with Inari at the desk. I'll give you a call, Mr..."
"Jones will do," he said, shaking my hand firmly. "Thank you."
"Glad to be of service," I said. As he left, I reached for my pocket; thankfully, my wallet was still there.
***
The Pit. A dive Jacques Cousteau wouldn't survive. The place was referred to by some locals as the Hotel California of Carre-Four; you could check out anytime, but you might never actually leave. Or if you did, nobody would recognize you.
Still, a job's a job. I walked in during the afternoon, when the only others there were a couple of old Corby's lackeys playing pool and the bartender. "Gimme something that slides," I said to him.
He sent down a drink that glowed a color of green not found anywhere in nature. I eyed it warily. "Anything else?" he said in a gruff voice.
"Just some information, if you have it," I intoned, flashing the gold coin I'd hidden in my palm. He reached for it, but I quickly snatched it back.
"Whaddaya wanna know?"
I pulled the photograph out of my pocket. "You seen this dame around?"
He squinted at the piece of paper. "Yeah, I remember her. She's a regular around here...at least, she was until a couple of days ago."
"You remember anything about the night she disappeared?"
"Just her stinker of a husband coming in to grab something, heading back out, then screaming bloody murder. Said she vanished into thin air. Nobody's heard anything since. I tell ya, it's been a crazy couple of months in this place--even more so than normal."
I leaned across the bar. "Why do you say that?"
He paused briefly. "I've lost at least ten good regulars. They just quit showing up, and nobody ever hears from them again. Probably moved on to someplace else, but you'd think they'd tell someone."
I nodded grimly. "Mind if I take a look around the place?"
"Sure, I'll give you the grand tour."
***I sat in a table in the corner that night, trying to get more of a feel for the place. The heavy bassline playing on the jukebox drowned out most conversation. It turned out the green concoction was actually pretty decent, if you didn't mind the taste of motor oil.
I looked up in time to see...could it be? No...this wasn't her. I could tell by the smell, even from the front door to here. Damn good fake, though.
I ducked under the table, and when I came back up, nobody would have recognized me except her. Hopefully Inari had done her job properly at the market today. I cleared my throat. "Telura! Good to see you again. I didn't know you came to the Pit."
And so it proved; "Telura" spilled all of her secrets to her new friend "Inari," though clearly she was making it up as she went along. When she left, I followed silently, knocking the other cats off the fence and taking their place. So, it's the cesspool out back. I knew something was fishy about that when I saw it earlier today. Should be easy enough to take care of, though.
***
"One less piece of shit in this city," I said as I lit the fuse.
It had taken two weeks of negotiation with the owners at The Pit to find an appropriate time to do the deed. But now it was done. As the wreckage crashed down on what remained of the cesspool, Inari stood by my side, laughing hysterically.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
She turned to face me. "How long did this thing keep coming after me? I mean, you were the one it needed to worry about."
I shook my head sadly. "That type doesn't think about those things," I said softly. "All it cares about is feeding its appetites."
"More than one?"
"For flesh, for knowledge, for power...for everything." I shrugged as we turned away from the wreckage. "And if you don't slam the door on it, it will eventually grow too big to stop."
Inari nodded, and I wrapped my trenchcoat around her shoulders as we left the flame behind.
Author's notes: It's another Intersection Week on therealljidol; my partner this time around was the lovely and talented lrig_rorrim. You can find her piece here.
A lot of my job is research, digging deep to find out who people are. In this case, the person I was digging on was me, and the research material was the back of my eyelids. It wasn't very stimulating reading.
The knock on the door interrupted me. "Come in," I called. The door opened to reveal a goblin looking dirtier than last week's laundry. "What can I do you for, er, what can I do for you?"
"Are you the one they call The Closer?" he said in a voice smooth as silk. Obviously one of those sneak-thieves.
Hm. That was a new one. "Who wants to know?"
"Someone with an open case who needs it closed," he spoke. "Someone who needs to find that which was lost."
"That's my specialty, alright. If it's lost, I can find it. Even if it isn't lost, I can still find it. What's gone missing?"
"Not what," he said, pulling a photo out of his purse and handing it to me. "Who. My wife, Telura."
I took the picture of a fox that would make a hunter drop his bow for good. How these guys get the dames, I'll never understand. "When did you last see her?"
"About two days ago," he whispered. "We were out on the deck at The Pit, smoking cigars. I went inside to get us a drink, and when I came back...she was gone." A tear formed at the corner of his eye as he spoke.
I jotted down a few notes, then looked back at him. "If she were in danger, where would she run?"
He thought for a second. "Probably there, actually. But the bartenders said they haven't seen her since."
I nodded grimly. "I guess I'll have to start there, then." Reaching into my pocket, I handed him one of my cards. "Leave your number with Inari at the desk. I'll give you a call, Mr..."
"Jones will do," he said, shaking my hand firmly. "Thank you."
"Glad to be of service," I said. As he left, I reached for my pocket; thankfully, my wallet was still there.
***
The Pit. A dive Jacques Cousteau wouldn't survive. The place was referred to by some locals as the Hotel California of Carre-Four; you could check out anytime, but you might never actually leave. Or if you did, nobody would recognize you.
Still, a job's a job. I walked in during the afternoon, when the only others there were a couple of old Corby's lackeys playing pool and the bartender. "Gimme something that slides," I said to him.
He sent down a drink that glowed a color of green not found anywhere in nature. I eyed it warily. "Anything else?" he said in a gruff voice.
"Just some information, if you have it," I intoned, flashing the gold coin I'd hidden in my palm. He reached for it, but I quickly snatched it back.
"Whaddaya wanna know?"
I pulled the photograph out of my pocket. "You seen this dame around?"
He squinted at the piece of paper. "Yeah, I remember her. She's a regular around here...at least, she was until a couple of days ago."
"You remember anything about the night she disappeared?"
"Just her stinker of a husband coming in to grab something, heading back out, then screaming bloody murder. Said she vanished into thin air. Nobody's heard anything since. I tell ya, it's been a crazy couple of months in this place--even more so than normal."
I leaned across the bar. "Why do you say that?"
He paused briefly. "I've lost at least ten good regulars. They just quit showing up, and nobody ever hears from them again. Probably moved on to someplace else, but you'd think they'd tell someone."
I nodded grimly. "Mind if I take a look around the place?"
"Sure, I'll give you the grand tour."
***I sat in a table in the corner that night, trying to get more of a feel for the place. The heavy bassline playing on the jukebox drowned out most conversation. It turned out the green concoction was actually pretty decent, if you didn't mind the taste of motor oil.
I looked up in time to see...could it be? No...this wasn't her. I could tell by the smell, even from the front door to here. Damn good fake, though.
I ducked under the table, and when I came back up, nobody would have recognized me except her. Hopefully Inari had done her job properly at the market today. I cleared my throat. "Telura! Good to see you again. I didn't know you came to the Pit."
And so it proved; "Telura" spilled all of her secrets to her new friend "Inari," though clearly she was making it up as she went along. When she left, I followed silently, knocking the other cats off the fence and taking their place. So, it's the cesspool out back. I knew something was fishy about that when I saw it earlier today. Should be easy enough to take care of, though.
***
"One less piece of shit in this city," I said as I lit the fuse.
It had taken two weeks of negotiation with the owners at The Pit to find an appropriate time to do the deed. But now it was done. As the wreckage crashed down on what remained of the cesspool, Inari stood by my side, laughing hysterically.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
She turned to face me. "How long did this thing keep coming after me? I mean, you were the one it needed to worry about."
I shook my head sadly. "That type doesn't think about those things," I said softly. "All it cares about is feeding its appetites."
"More than one?"
"For flesh, for knowledge, for power...for everything." I shrugged as we turned away from the wreckage. "And if you don't slam the door on it, it will eventually grow too big to stop."
Inari nodded, and I wrapped my trenchcoat around her shoulders as we left the flame behind.
Author's notes: It's another Intersection Week on therealljidol; my partner this time around was the lovely and talented lrig_rorrim. You can find her piece here.