Now I can return to my novella [hopefully] without the urge to write something. So here it is; not wonderful, but it exists. ^^
The Dragon, the Dog, and the Dove
The footsteps echoed behind him.
He slammed back against the brick wall, his revolver at the ready. They were coming for him, their footsteps getting louder and louder. His breathing was quick and steady. A bead of sweat trailed down the back of his neck. His feet slowly carried him down the alley, careful not to make any noise.
They stopped. The night air was still and seemed to close in around him. He could hardly breathe, but he forced himself to do so. He had to find her before they found him!
He took another step back as silently as he could and winced when a cat yowled and hissed at him. They loaded their guns; James Kingsley didn’t wait for them to find him. He turned tail and ran.
A gunshot got Kingsley’s heart pounding against his chest. Spotting a wired fence at the end of the alley, he reached it and climbed over to the other side. They shot again.
One of them growled. “You two go that way; we’ll follow Kingsley.”
The agent heard their footsteps again, their echoes now coming from two directions. The fence shook in the distance as they struggled to get over. Kingsley didn’t wait for them; he ran into the neighboring street and looked both ways, clueless as to where to run.
“There he is!”
That answered it for him. Kingsley turned right, running away from the smugglers. He dared a couple gunshots at them, and they considerately returned them. He turned into another alleyway, planning to shoot them as they followed him in.
“James Kingsley,” said a familiar low drawl. Kingsley stopped himself before running smack into Henry Martin.
The man chuckled, his head bowed; his hat was slightly tilted to cover a good portion of his face, even without the heavy shadows around him. One hand lay in the pocket of his pin-striped suit, the other casually holding his now-tiny cigar.
“Did you really think you could outrun us, James?” he said smoothly, tapping his cigar to the side. He took a drag before continuing. “My men don’t give up, and neither will they lose.”
“I don’t have it, Henry,” Kingsley said coldly. “Don’t do anything foolish.”
He barked a laugh. “You’re telling me not to be foolish, James? It’s more the other way around, I should think. You’ll regret betraying me.”
“I couldn’t kill her, Henry,” he muttered menacingly. “She’s done nothing but fall for your brain-washing schemes.”
“Yes, and she has proven useful over the months,” Martin replied. He took another drag from his cigar. “However, I can’t have her prance around the streets, telling everyone of our existence, and she refuses to serve me any further. This leaves only one solution left, and I can’t have you get in the way.”
Kingsley heard the familiar click of a loaded gun. “Wait, Henry—”
“Wait?” He chuckled. “I’ve waited for quite some time, James. I’ve lost my patience. Either you give me the glasses, or you and the girl are lost.”
“Kill me, but leave her be,” Kingsley muttered, but he knew it was useless to say.
Martin took a step closer to Henry, and then another. He was still covered in darkness, but Kingsley could easily picture his glittering blue eyes, the smirk on his face—
He took a drag from his cigar as he stopped in front of Kingsley. “You know, James?” Kingsley coughed hysterically as the smoke blew into his face. “You watch too many movies, but so do I. I’ll let you live long enough for you to watch her suffer, for it will be a slow end.”
Kingsley took deep breaths, regaining enough oxygen to feel alive again. He glared at Martin. “I could kill you right now, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” Martin snickered, “but you won’t.” He turned his back on Kingsley and took a few steps to his original spot, taking a long enough time for Kingsley to debate shooting him or not. In the end, Kingsley couldn’t do such a cowardly act. Martin chuckled when he saw Kingsley stand as limp as he had before.
“We’re going on a tiny trip, then, and I ask for you to come with us, James,” Martin said. His head turned slightly to face what was left of his cigar, and he pitched it to the ground of the alley. His head turned upward toward Kingsley. “Please?”
Kingsley spit at Martin’s black shoes, and two men grabbed his arms at that moment. Kingsley struggled in their grip, trying to break free and strangle Martin. One of the men took his gun and pocketed it for extra precaution.
“I’m sorry it comes down to this, James,” Martin said with a sigh. “Though I cannot forgive you, I would have hoped you would repent of your sins.” He walked up to the struggling Kingsley, revealing the only too-familiar smirk in his pale face. The cold glint in his eyes would send a chill down any man’s spine.
“You will regret betraying me,” he said softly, withdrawing his pack of cigars. “You wouldn’t have to face the consequences if you’d have just killed her then and there.”
“She’s done nothing,” Kingsley spat.
Martin held out his cigar between his two fingers for one of his men to light it. Stuffing the box back in his jacket, he said, “It’s not that she deserves it, my friend. I would definitely have liked her to assist me in further affairs; however, she has refused to help me any longer. And so, to keep her from spreading the word about me, I’m doing her a favor and ending her life before any complications arouse later on.”
Martin nodded at his right-hand man, and the much bigger bodyguard withdrew his phone. Martin looked back at Kingsley. “Our ride will arrive in short time, and we will soon meet our famed damsel in distress once again unless, of course, you’re willing to give me the glasses.”
“I’d never give them to you,” Kingsley hissed.
“Shame.” The limo drove up to them – it must have been just around the corner – and the giant bodyguard opened the door for Martin to step in. Kingsley was shoved toward the vehicle and into the seat opposite Martin. He only saw a glance of his reflection in the window, and he looked completely disheveled and ill-prepared to face a woman of great fame. Ignoring Martin’s cold stare, Kingsley studied his windswept dark hair and dirt-covered face.
“Why, Martin?” Kingsley finally asked, breaking the unbearable silence.
“Why what?”
“Why everything? Why do you do it?” He looked at Martin’s amused face and glowered.
“It’s what I do best, James, if you haven’t realized already.” He chuckled. “I’ve never been in better shape than I am now.”
“You enjoy destroying people’s lives?” Kingsley asked with disgust.
“You make it sound horrible, James! I’m surprised of you.” He looked into Kingsley’s dark eyes. “You were once as selfish as I am now. You’ve killed plenty of men, stole thousands of dollars, came close to raping a woman just recently – you could get anything you want, if only you didn’t betray me. You let her loose, James, and that ended your career. I would have let you take my place when it came down to it, but now I must find another heir.”
“I regret it all, Henry,” Kingsley muttered, looking back at the passing brick buildings and street signs. “Life’s not about living in secret and getting what you want despite the law. There’s more to it –”
“You’re joking me, James,” Martin interrupted, the slightest shock detectable in his voice. “I would have hoped you stopped watching children’s programs years ago!”
“It’s true, Henry.”
“Pathetic, James,” Martin muttered, taking a drag from his cigar. “There really is no hope for you now.”
The limo came to a slow halt, and the door opened, allowing them to step out. Kingsley was shoved forward by his neighboring gang member, and he stumbled outside in front of the dumped building Martin had her stay in.
“Shall we?” Martin said, cigar in hand. He straightened his jacket; he fixed his hat so it was tilted and still secure on his head. They walked up the stairs, and Martin bounded in without knocking. They continued down the hall, one of Martin’s followers standing in front of the door to shoo off any visitors – if any dared enter.
“Ah, there she is,” Martin said with a smirk, stopping in the entryway of the den, “the lovely Jana Earl.”
Kingsley peeked into the room and saw the beautiful Asian woman stand up from the armchair, her blue dress falling around her. She must have been snatched away after one of her performances, for she was still in costume. A blue headdress decorated her silky hair, and piles of make-up covered her narrow face. Her thin eyebrows came together in worry.
“Henry!” her angelic voice rang in the empty room. “I was in my dressing room after the play, and one of your men took me away, saying it was an emergency!” Her words fell off her tongue as if she had been rehearsing this for some time now. She walked halfway across the room before stopping, her hands fiddling nervously in front of her. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s perfectly fine, my dear,” Henry said with a soft expression. He walked up to her, took her hand, and kissed it. “Everything is always perfect when you’re around.”
A light pink tinted Jana’s cheeks. “Then why was I sent for – James?”
Martin turned his amused face on Kingsley and nodded for his release. The men’s tight grips let go of him, and Kingsley felt the blood resume normal circulation. Jana’s face fell at that moment, knowing full well what the situation was if Kingsley was treated as a prisoner.
“The glasses…”
Martin’s eyebrows shot up. “You wouldn’t happen to know their location, would you?” Jana’s fearful eyes fell on him. Martin smirked. “If you could assist me this last time—”
“I know nothing,” Jana said only too quickly. Her head fell; she stared at the floor, refusing to look at Martin.
“Henry, leave her alone,” Kingsley muttered. He wanted to comfort Jana, but he couldn’t bear standing inches from him.
Martin ignored him, lifting Jana’s chin so she looked at him. He smiled softly – and convincingly – and Jana relaxed some. “I only ask for this one favor, dear.” He dared to stroke her arm; she flinched, but welcomed it in the end. Kingsley bit his lip, debating whether to charge at him or not.
“I…I can’t,” she said, looking away again.
Martin took a drag of his cigar as he walked a couple steps away. “In that case, my dear, you are free of your service to me; however, I owe you payment for your assistance.”
Jana looked up, brow furrowed. Kingsley made a leap for Martin, but the men behind him stopped him in time. The giant bodyguard withdrew a small black case from his jacket. Martin opened it to reveal a knife with colorful gems carved into the golden handle. He gingerly took the case and displayed the purple velvet in his hands for everyone in the room to see. Kingsley stared at it as if it were his own child – he remembered the work he went through getting that knife for Martin.
Martin walked back to Jana, and Kingsley struggled to free himself from the men as he had earlier, only more urgently; but Martin didn’t do anything. He held it out, and Jana hesitantly picked up the knife, confused.
“You have said you’ve done enough for me,” Martin explained, stepping back and closing the case. His blue eyes had their evil glint in them, and Jana started shaking. Kingsley wanted to help the innocent woman. All she did was obey her lover, and here she was, paying the price.
“It’s time you’ve done a favor for yourself,” Martin finished. He took a drag from his cigar, and Jana’s eyes widened in terror.
“No! Henry, I swear, I—” She stopped when Martin’s expression didn’t change. She sobbed. “Henry, please, I’m sorry—”
“I’m allowing you to end your service,” Martin said simply. He breathed in the nicotine again. “However, this is the only way that is to be done. I cannot let you wander the streets, knowing of my existence and telling the world who I am.”
“I swear, I won’t tell anyone, Henry!” Jana panicked and lessened the space between her and Henry, but no one assisted her, comforted her, or encouraged her. They all watched her. She looked to Kingsley, who growled at the men holding him.
“Henry, let her be!”
“Do it now, Jana,” Martin said calmly. “I don’t have time, and I’d much like to have Kingsley silenced right now as well.”
“Henry!” Jana and Kingsley said together, both in completely different tones.
“The glasses,” Jana said quickly. Kingsley’s face fell as she spilled out the words. “Th-the glasses are in my dressing room.” Kingsley howled with anger; Jana ignored him, eyes wholly on Martin. “I-it’s in the closet, wr-wrapped in my Renaissance dress. They’re there; I haven’t moved them. James never took them – they’re there! Please, don’t make me do this!” Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she fell to her knees, clutching the knife handle till her knuckles turned white.
Martin didn’t say anything. “I am pleased by the fact your loyalty still remains with me, Jana; however, your loyalty is forced by fear, and I will not tolerate that. Continue with what you are bid, so that I may be rid of you.” Jana hiccupped. “I cannot risk another moment like this if you were to remain with me. You must be out of the way. Do it now, or you’ll regret it later.”
Jana looked up into her lover’s cold eyes and saw no sympathy there.
“Don’t do it, Jana,” Kingsley gasped, still fighting for freedom. “He’d never kill you himself, so let him wait it out—”
“James, I do think you’re worsening the situation,” Martin said simply. He put the cigar to his mouth. “She’s a big girl; she can make her own decisions.”
“Jana, don’t listen to him—”
The giant bodyguard slapped Kingsley across the face. Jana shrieked, still on her knees. She put her hands to her mouth – the knife still in her shaky grasp – and watched helplessly as Kingsley shook the pain off.
“Don’t hurt him, Henry!” Jana begged, turning to him once again. “I-I’ll do it, just don’t hurt him or anyone else! Please!”
Martin only watched, expressionless.
“Jana, don’t!” Kingsley shouted.
Jana ignored him, bringing the knife up to her chest. Her hands shook terribly, sweat dripping down her face. Her make-up was wet and soft from the tears she had cried, her headdress laid askew in her now-frizzy hair.
Kingsley used all his strength to get the men off of him, and he finally freed himself after one huge heave. He reached for the knife, his hand clasped around the handle—
—but it was too late. It had been shoved through her chest – straight through the heart. Whether it was from Kingsley’s charge or her free will, Kingsley didn’t know, but however it had happened, it did. It was done.
Jana’s voice cracked, her dark eyes empty and watery. Her mouth open and closed, as if she were trying to say something. Kingsley shook his head continuously, encouraging her to hold on to the little life she had left. It would all be better. They just had to get out of here; he’d take her to the hospital—
“There’s nothing you can do, James,” Martin’s simple drawl sounded behind him. “She did the big girl thing. Now the crystal glasses are mine, and she doesn’t have to live serving me anymore – just as she had wished.”
Kingsley’s jaw clenched. “She repented her sins, unlike me,” he hissed. “You should have forgiven her.”
“This is what I do, James, and you know this,” Martin said. “This is how I make a living. You know, she knew, my men know.”
Jana finally toppled into Kingsley’s arms. Kingsley hugged her tightly, anger flooding his veins. Martin continued talking about how he never lost and betrayers paid a dear cost, but Kingsley’s hand wrapped around the hilt of the knife. Revenge was sweet.
“Don’t try anything foolish, James.”
Martin knew what Kingsley was thinking, but he didn’t care now. Kingsley slowly withdrew the knife from Jana’s chest, wincing from the grotesque feeling of pulling an object through bodily fluids and organs.
“Don’t be foolish, James,” he repeated.
Kingsley clenched the knife tightly, his eyes closed. One…
“James, I warn you.”
Kingsley was going to die anyway; might as well make the best of it.
Two…
“You’ll only make things worse for yourself.” Martin wasn’t frightened at all.
But he would be.
Three.
Kingsley spun on his heel, raised the golden knife, and charged at Martin with all his strength. No one stopped him; no one approached him. He was a monster let loose and seeking revenge. He was inches from him now, and there would soon be no more Henry Martin.
He suddenly dropped the knife after the sound of a gunshot. He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing much like Jana. Martin didn’t move one inch from where he stood, his cigar held lazily between his finger and thumb. He took a drag from it and exhaled in Kingsley’s pale face before he had fallen to his knees.
“I warned you, James,” Martin said softly, “though that may have been the smarter way to end it anyway.”
Kingsley’s fingers twitched; he coughed as he tried to breathe.
“Don’t try, James,” Martin continued. He nudged Kingsley with his black shoe – now covered in blood – and he fell over on his side. “You never should have freed her in the first place. She deserved what she got; you were an unfortunate loss.”
Kingsley didn’t move anymore, though his eyes and mouth were wide open still, much like Munch’s Scream. Martin nodded to one of his men, who had been wiping down Kingsley’s revolver, and he carefully set Kingsley’s fingerprints in the correct spots before laying it only inches away.
“You were a loyal friend, James,” Martin whispered sympathetically, “and Jana was a precious gem; however, the strongest always prevail.”
Martin led the way out the door, leaving behind the murdered actress and traitor. The bodies weren’t found for days later, and the knife was taken in for evidence as to who had committed the crime. Henry Martin was never sought as a suspect, and no one figured out the real story.
They always make my day. This piece made my mind wander on all the possibilities that could be behind the killings. It's really tense.
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