Published at 21st of February 2024 11:03 pm

Chapter 25 Dead Golden Eyes

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Losts attacked at night, his landlord had said, so when Elmer had seen the stars fade while the sky took on a brighter color of dark-blue, he had gone ahead to find himself a carriage.

Wandering about all stained by blood when the world awoke would have probably made him end up somewhere that would not be worthwhile.

Elmer left his bloodied clothes stacked at the corner of his room and dressed himself anew in a gray shirt tucked into black pants. He would have loved something on his head, but since he had no other ivy cap, his ruffled, spiky hair remained uncovered.

He sat below the window sill, leaning on the wall with an arm broodingly draped over his knee, while his heart ached with every passing moment as he was too bitter to approach his little sister.

The disgust he felt for his person—for his situation—was so great that he could not even bring himself to give her a wash. In truth, he shouldn’t even be this close to her, but for that he’d had no choice. He needed his bath and his rest, and this was the only place he could afford to do that.

“I guess,” Elmer muttered with a sigh after a few seconds of nerving silence had passed, “I should probably get going.” He put on his glasses and rose to his feet, his eyes momentarily brushing past the waist bag strapped beneath his stomach as he glanced at his pile of bloodied clothes.

Elmer thought of burning them—the shirt, pants, suspender, ivy cap, all which he had spent a mint note on—just like he had done to the clothes he had worn on that night five years ago. They reminded him of his failure, of how repulsive he had become.

He placed his palm harshly on his chest and pinched his flesh hard. If only he could rip it out and be rid of the crest—be rid of the accursed God who had been haunting him for five years.

What if he was never able to change it? What if he would remain as an Ascender of this pathway all his life? What if…

Elmer shook his head. He had to change it. If he couldn’t then he was better off dead.

Help her with what ya get, so his landlord had told him, but how was he going to do that while being in the pathway of the ones who had taken her soul from her? The man had just ignorantly uttered nonsense.

He needed to meddle with time for Mabel, that was the only way she would come back to him—that was the only way he could think of.

Elmer felt his head ache. He let out a breath and hesitantly freed his chest from the angry grasp of his fingers. There was no use thinking about what he could and could not do. He felt for the revolver inside his waist bag. If that woman was really going to be there, then that was where his legs should take him next.

He glanced at Mabel one last time, wishing he could brush her bangs and give her forehead a kiss, but he thought against it, courtesy of the self-revolt he had, as he took his leave of the room.

…

The wall lanterns flanking each side of the apartment door glowed dimly, brightening the dark scenery a tad, and they brought before Elmer’s eyes the sinuous back of a lady who was quietly sitting at the edge of the staircase.

A tenant, probably.

Elmer was about to walk down when a wisp of smoke suddenly ran into his nose, halting him and causing him to cough slightly.

The lady raised her head at that moment to notice his presence behind her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost immediately while gesturing the stick of cigarette in between her fingers at him, “for this.” Her voice was as quiet as her demeanor, faint and distant, it was almost as though she was a natural match for Tooth and Nails street.

“It’s fine,” Elmer whispered loud enough so she could hear, prompting her to reply with a nod before she returned her gaze forward and took another drag from her cigarette.

Elmer covered his nose as he went ahead to make his way down, sidestepping in a gentlemanly manner away from the hem of the lady’s brown woolen skirt where it was sprawled on the stairs.

“Room six, right?” Elmer had dropped his feet at the bottom of the stairs when that question made its way into his ears, causing him to turn around slightly to glimpse the lady emit a high, stable line of smoke from between her lips. “You should have reported the body as soon as you got here. Was the smell not of any bother to you?”

Body…? Elmer’s eyebrows creased and he turned around fully, facing the lady.

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“Oh, you didn’t know?” She leaned forward where she sat and rested her chin on the end of her palm. “Eh, if I say sorry one more time that would be a lot of apologizing for a day, and it’s not yet begun.” She downturned her lips before using them to embrace her cigarette once again.

Elmer had not fully put his eyes on her before, but now he saw her a jot clearly.

She had pale skin, and there was no expression plastered upon her round face. On her head sat dark-blonde hair that struggled to reach her shoulders, shaggy and unkempt. The countenance about her was also quite unladylike, but that did not seem to bother her one bit.

She was outright pretty, nonetheless, especially her eyes which were narrow and golden. But they too—just like her—had something sullen about them. It was like they had no life, like they had no light, and they were just seeing because that was what they were meant to do.

It almost felt like he was looking at Mabel’s lifeless gaze, just with a little more vigor in them.

Elmer let out a breath of air and finally said, “What body?”

The lady heaved a puff. “You can’t be thick headed, surely. You don’t look like someone that is. I mentioned a body, the smell, and that you should have reported it. They string along together well, don’t they?”

Elmer took no offense at her words. “Someone died,” he deduced, a little bit too placidly than he would have fancied.

“More like: killed himself.” She gently scratched the edge of her left eye where an indistinct mole was lodged. “Checked the smell as soon as I moved in and saw a withered man hanging from a noose. How long had he been hanging from there, I wonder? Well, it’s not like I really care. If I had met him before the deed I would have asked that he let me have his lifespan instead, seeing as he wanted to give it up so freely.” She inhaled another from her cigarette.

“I see.” Elmer licked his lips.

Taking lives, huh?

He just took one some hours ago, irrespective of it being that of a monster. He’d had no choice though, it was either it or him. But this man must have had one. What sort of condition could have driven him to take his own life?

The building suddenly had a gloomy feel about it.

“Then,” Elmer added, briefly closing his eyes in between his words. “I’ll be taking my leave.”

“We’re the only two in this apartment,” the lady said with a soft cough as though she had puffed out her smoke in something of a hurry. “We should introduce ourselves. I go by Polly. Polly Bagley.”

The only two…? I thought there were more…?

Elmer ceased his turning. “I’m Elmer. Elmer Hills. It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Elmer sort of bowed, then asked after, “What do you mean by we’re the only two? I always thought there were more.”

“Well,” Polly exhaled smoke. “There aren’t. I checked every room.”

Elmer’s eyebrows furrowed. “Including mine?”

“Didn’t need to,” she said. “The lady you brought back was quite rowdy.”

Elmer sighed. “Should you have done something like that? Going around and checking people’s rooms doesn’t seem—”

“Should you be going anywhere?” She cut him off, her voice laced with too much flatness that it was impossible to know what sort of tone she was passing across. Elmer took it as a mere question then.

“What?” he asked.

“Eyes don’t lie.” She fumbled with the halfway burned cigarette. “Yours have bags underneath them which means you’re tired and stressed. You should be sleeping, not wandering about.”

He truly was tired, but…

“I doubt that’s any of your concern.”

“I doubt me going around and checking people’s rooms is any of yours either,” she shot back quickly, then gestured the smoke at him shortly after his eyebrows twitched. “Want some?”

“I coughed,” he replied.

“I did too,” she said. “Doesn’t mean you don’t smoke.”

“I don’t.” Elmer rubbed his temples. That tiredness she had mentioned was pulling at him for attention. The sleep had not been enough, and worse he’d had it under a tree while being halfway awake.

“You could start now. Seems like you need it.”

“You should stop instead,” Elmer advised her. “With what I’ve heard about it, I reckon smoking is bad.”

She tsked and retracted her generosity.

“Although,” Elmer said after a few seconds, “for you to spend your money on a cigarette rather than a meal then you must have some sort of well paying job. You must have taken the funds for your medical treatment into consideration.”

“Wise words,” Polly remarked in what Elmer felt was a sarcastic tone. “But this is my food.” She wagged the cigarette at him. “And don’t you worry about my health, maybe worry about yours. We both live in the slums, do you think your health is of any good?”

Elmer exhaled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Worry about his health? If he could trade all that and more for Mabel’s he would. What good was his health bringing him?

“A meal would be nice though,” Polly suddenly said, drawing Elmer’s gaze back to her. “Maybe get some for me when you return from wherever you’re headed.”

Elmer nudged his head forward indistinctly in quiet bewilderment. “And why would I do that?”

“I don’t know.” She rose to her feet, using the brick banister to put off the fire of her cigarette. “Maybe think about my health then?” she told him, and after disappeared into the apartment building as calm as her ambience.

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