Vulturistic Intent

“What do you remember about the day Richter was killed?” The man’s voice was nasally yet sinister.

The question lays heavy in the air. I swivel in my chair as I avoid eye contact with the stranger.

This guy literally just barges in here, says he’s a “police man” whatever the fuck that means, and expects me to believe him. No sir, no sir. Instead, I look at his shoes, nodding my head with each observation. They are nice. Really nice. Unusually nice. No holes, no dirt, no nothing. Shiny, too. Very shiny. Everything is black. His shoes, his pants, his shirt. Just freakin’ all of it. All black as if he was supposed to disappear into the darkness after this very encounter.

“Ms. Monroe, I know this is shocking, but I’m trying to find out who did this. This isn’t the first murder around here. Your compliance would be so greatly appreciated.” He says rather creepily.

Jesus, this guy is fucking weird. Wait a god dang sec, how the frick does he know my last name is Monroe? It’s a question that makes its way into my mind and dare I say, scares me. Nobody knows that. Not even Richter. Who is this weirdo?

“I told you I don’t know anything about no Richter.” I lie with as much conviction as I can muster. He returns my drama with silence. I double down on the dramatic silent treatment hoping that my eyes can melt holes into his stupidly greasy head. The stranger paces around the table, circling me like a vulture. Ha! ~The Vulture~ That’s exactly what this creep is.

“You’re insistent that you’ve never met him.” he muses, literally hitting his stride. “I suppose I’m going to have to pull out my big guns, huh?” He jokes and pauses as if to build tension, placing his hands behind his back all casual like. I watch as The Vulture slows down his pace, also taking note of his voice taking on a slower, mellower tone.“Nat, Nat, Nat,” he emphasizes the ‘t’ part everytime. “He called you Nat, right?” He says, raising his arm to light up his firestick. “Yeah, Nat Holloway. That’s what he told me.” He inhales something out of it then breathes out smoke.

The Vulture pauses, squinting through his dumb eyes as he prepares his next monologue, “ Yeah. Richter said: ‘I gave it to a young girl named Natalie Holloway. She’s short, brown hair, and looks like a raccoon. Smells like one too, and she’ll want this back.’” He reaches into his pocket and dramatically flicks his wrist, exposing a very dirty dinged up locket that shares an uncanny resemblance to the one I sold Richter. “So, let’s cut through the bullshit shall we? Richter told me everything.”

Seeing my locket in this sleazy man’s hand lights up a new fire inside of me. He’s probably getting so many gross things on that. I know I’m smelly but at least I wash my hands. Richter says that is always important.

However, my impassioned anger quickly dissolves into panic as I connect the dots. Fuuuuck Richter, I thought we were friends!?! How could you do this to me!?! What did I ever do to you to deserve a creepy vulture coming after me?!?

Hoping to the powers that be that I will somehow make it out of this room alive, I pray that my dumb face didn’t give away how fucking scared I am inside. I could seriously pee right now. I think to myself, This would be a perfect time for me to start doing that thing where I start talking and don’t shut up. Yeah, anytime Nat. Let’s go.

The Vulture takes me out of my thoughts before I spiral any further into my madness. “It’s okay that he sold you out, kid. Noone likes a rat. Luckily for you, I took care of him.” he grins and winks at me. It grosses me out.

I furrow my brows in confusion, “What do you mean you ‘took care of him?’ What does that mean?” Genuinely confused, I try to gather what that could mean, coming up short of anything good. Oh jeebus, did this guy...did he hurt..no. “You killed Richter!?” I half say-half scream, knowing full well that my question doesn’t need a response. My rage returns just as fast as it left and I go off on this asshole in my head. This guy killed Richter? What the fuck? How? Richter is sooooo huge. Richter could sit on this guy and he’d break in half. How the fuck did this guy get the drop on Richter?!? My eyes begin to widen in panic as my thoughts turn sour, only ending with a grim conclusion. If this guy killed Richter and his shoes are that shiny, then I am fuuuuuuucked. Oh frig I’m going to friggin’ die! Fuuuck. No, no, no! No! Not here, not in this creepy ass building with this creepy ass guy. No! No! No!

He doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he sits down rather smugly on the table, taking yet another drag of his magic fire smoke stick. It’s clear he’s pleased with himself, enjoying my meltdown. He looks as if he’d just found a freshly chewed chicken in the trash can. Fucking score.

The Vulture starts up again. “It’s over, kid. Richter sold you out. Didn’t even hesitate. I guess this just shows you that even when you know somebody, you don’t really know somebody, you know?” Smiling he continues on, “ Now it’s time to pay up. Give me your ticket and I’ll leave you alone. ” he says, eyes sparkling with mischievous intent.

Of course it’s the fucking ticket! Like, duh, Nat, duh! That fucking ticket Richter gave me. Shit, shit, shit. I need an exit strategy faaaaast. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do? Keep him talking I guess!?? Yeah, I guess that is all I have for my skillset.

“Why do you want this ticket so badly?” I ask, my voice cracking a bit as I do so. It’s a genuine question. I don’t get why you would murder someone over it, though. It’s just a stupid ticket into a stupid city with a bunch of stupid idiots.

“Well, if I’m being honest, kid. That ticket was never supposed to leave ‘The Haven.’”

I listen fully, trying to figure out this mystery at last. Clearly, I’m in over my head. I rub my hands on my shorts, trying to wipe the pooling sweat off. I lock eyes with him, his brown eyes burning into my green. Anticipation sets in around us, egging us on with each passing moment. I feel the impending terror creep up my spine as I wait for him to make a move.

He doesn’t.

I mentally bully myself some more. Keep him talking Nat, frig.

I stall for time again, “What’s this friggin Haven thing? What’s that?” I shift my eyes away from his trying to not-so-casually scan the room for exits. No dice. The only way out is through the door directly in front of me, and there’s a whole ass table and Vulture in between.

“Gee, kid, you really don’t know a lot, you know that?” he chuckles, squinting his eyes at me. For whatever reason he decides to indulge my not-so-faux-curiosity.

“Well, ‘The Haven’ is this luxurious city-”

“Yeah, I know that part already. You know that part already. I’m heading there.You’re after me. Duh?” I interrupt bluntly. I know I’m in no position to want to accelerate time, but jeez, get to the point.

“Tsk. Tsk. Interrupting people is very rude, kid.” he wags a gloved finger at me. “Anyway. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, it’s this luxurious Eden where only the well deserving are allowed in. And you kid, you just don’t make the cut.”

Anxiety peaks in my mind. What the fuck does nothing personal mean!? Also make the cut? What the fuck does that even mean? Is he...is he suggesting that I don’t belong their?!? Yeesh, the audacity of this guy.

“Y-you.” Shit, I stuttered a little. “What, what...what do you do for them? The haven?” If it isn’t obvious I’m stalling for time, it definitely is now. His eyes burst with newfound glee as if this was the question he’s been waiting for me to ask.

“Well, kid. Let’s work it out together. If you have a ticket, and I’m here to recover the ticket, then that means?” He trails off and pauses, nodding his head towards me.

It’s only after eleven seconds of silence that I piece together that he’s waiting for me to reply. “Oh! Uh.. that means...that...that you…” I think out loud knowing full well how much of a moron I sound like.

“Oh dear, you are a dim one.” He shakes his head at the ground, grinning. “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You see, it's this exact reason why we can’t have you polluting our city. We have a culture to maintain.”

I don’t know why but that statement enrages me to my soul.

“Tell ya what.” He says, bursting with a newfound energy. “I’ll let you walk away, and you can keep this.” He slides the locket across the table as if he was making some grand gesture. I reach out to grab it, smiling a twinge as I do, just happy to see that it’s made its way back to me.

The memories come back just as they do everytime I grab the family trinket. I thumb over the locket in my hand, muscle memory tracing over indents and scratches. I open the locket to reveal the photo of my family, still in there. The Vulture patiently waits as I fondly look over the image.

A happy family awaits me. An elegant mother, goofy-looking father, and the smiling faces of me and my brother. Tears begin to well up behind my eyes as I choke down the pain, failing for the millionth time to remember an apocalypse that never happened to me.

The End. That’s what everyone calls it. Always in hushed whispers like I can’t hear what anyone is saying. The end of what, I don’t know. Humanity? Civilization? Happy, whole families? It doesn’t matter. All I know is that this thing took everything away from me and now I’m here picking up literally the only thing left of anything from the life I should have had. Not this sad bullshit bucket of fuckery. I’ve done nothing but fight tooth and nail to survive in this dumb empty world that took it all away! Then Richter finally gives me a break and a chance for literally any other kind of life, and this Vulture jackass comes and tries to ruin it all? Why? Because it’s his job!?! Fuck this guy! No!

It’s in this moment of passionate courage that I come out of my anxiety spiral and meet his eyes. That’s right. This guy ain’t going to scare me anymore. Fuck this guy! He killed my best friend! Richter would be so embarrassed if I didn’t go out without a fight. I bore all my hatred back into his eyes. The Vulture’s eyes are brown, the lamest of all colors. There’s no depth to them. Just ugly, dirty, disgusting, brown eyes.

He continues to meet my gaze, ever fascinated with watching me.. I make the bold and courageous decision to calmly stand up and walk towards the door.

Something changes in his demeanor, electrifying his entire being. He stands tall and waits for me to approach as if he finally got the confirmation he’s been eagerly waiting for this entire exchange. The silence builds between us again, this time threatening with impending doom, destruction, and death. It drowns everything in the room out. It’s at this moment that the only thing that exists are me, The Vulture, and the door.

He looms over the door. Slowly, a malicious, contorted smile begins to grow on his face, his thin lips cracking it expands. The Vulture’s teeth are sharp, jagged, and promise a cruel pain that I comprehend completely.

He lunges towards me.

I kick him in the dick.