I'm the best writer and I don't give two flying fucks about my curly apostrophes and quotes. Ain't No Rest For The Wicked (Move your mouse to reveal the content) Ain't No Rest For The Wicked (open) Ain't No Rest For The Wicked (close) It is 1:05 AM and I stand on a doormat of a house I never seen before. I pull out a piece of paper and compare the written numbers to the numbers near the door. “674“. This seems to be the right place. I knock on the door three times gently to see if I would attract any flies like a venus flytrap. After no response for a minute, I decide to take action to my own hands. I whip out my utility tools and pick out a lock pick. Gently, I place it into the lock and twist to attempt to find a way to open the door. After a minute of fiddling, the lock seems to retract. I place my right hand on the door handle and softly turn it towards me. After hearing another click, I push the door away from me and silently creep toward the room. It appears that I was within the kitchen as there were pots and pans hanging from the ceiling and a table was placed near the counter. I look over toward the counter and find a knife within a stand. Roughly about eight inches in length, it was the perfect blade for the job. I slowly creep forward, entering the living room. As I enter the living room, a television was left on; glowing onto the man in front of the television on the couch. The man seems to snore louder than the television, which made the entire situation a bit awkward. I dig through my trench coat carefully to find a bottle and a rag from my pockets. I gently open up the bottle and dab some of the contents on the rag. After placing the bottle back into my pocket, I make my move. I softly creep toward the individual on the couch and gently nudge him. After snoring a bit louder, the man groans and turns toward me. Since he didn’t seem completely conscious, I attempt to take advantage of his dulled mind to find my answers. “Hello sir,” I greet softly, “I was just passing by to ask you a question.” “Ugh,” the man groans again, “what do you want from me at this late at night?” “I’ve heard that there are people after your money. If you had to store it anywhere, where would it be?” “...Money? Where to store it? What do you take me as, a buffoon?” The man finally stood up, completely awake. After he starts to move toward me, I pull the knife out into my right hand while keeping the rag hidden in my left pocket. “I think fucking around with me will just get you killed,” I hastily replied, “so it’s best that you just cooperate and give me the damn money. Unless you want to become the next victim on my list.” “Alright alright!” the man yelled, “just don’t wave that stupid blade around anymore!” The man seems to lead me toward the basement of his house. He flips a switch on and slowly approaches to a wall. The odd thing was the basement never seems to be used, as it was as barren as the desert. The man approaches what appears to be a dead end that was directly from the stairs. He pulls his hand out and places it on one of the bricks. To my surprise, the brick made a noise and a laser appears to scan his hand. After what appears to be the brick verifying the man, the wall opened up to another room; this time full of many things. For starters, jewelry and gold surrounds the entire area. Within the middle of the path was a desk and a safe directly behind it. “Take whatever you want,” the man muttered, “just spare my life.” “You know,” I said, “it’s a bit funny. For some reason, you don’t seem paranoid about this at all. Most people I know would still be freaking out the entire time and I’d have to nearly force them with the tip of a blade to make them do something since they’re paralyzed with fear.” “This isn’t the first time I’ve been threatened with my life for money,” the man replied. “After all, for someone as rich as me I’m surprised at the few attempts for my life in exchange for wealth.” “While it’s a touching story,” I added, “I’m afraid the jewelry is not what I seek. What’s inside that safe, on the other hand, is likely what I would like to have. Nothing I hate more than taking another step just to make money.” The man approaches the safe and spins the dial toward three numbers. After setting the dial to the third number, he pulls the hatch and reveals the contents within the safe. Enclosed was the color green. It seems that there was thousands, no, millions of dollars. “Since I don’t exactly have clean money,” the man stated, “I can’t store this in my Switzerland bank account. To accommodate for that, I built this under my house to store my riches. Thankfully most ‘respectful’ thieves just take the jewelry and run off with it.” “When is a thief ever close to respectful’?” I replied. “If anything, your statement is almost ironic considering there’s almost no such thing as a present day Robin Hood. Now just hang tight while I place the money in this bag.” I pull out a large gym bag and place it onto the floor. Carefully, I sweep the piles of green into the bag. It seems that the air smelled fresh and crisp like a brand new dollar bill. The sensation seemed to drive me insane, and I stuffed the bag further. After reaching what seemed to be the limit of the bag, I zipped it up and placed it upright to wheel it after the situation was finished. “Unfortunately,” the man said with a twisted smile, “no thief has walked out of this house alive.” Suddenly, he pulls a gun out of his pocket and attempts to lay fire on me. Quickly, I grab the cloth and run around him to be directly behind him. I place my arms around his and hold his trigger hand upward to prevent him from firing at me. I forcibly shove the piece of cloth toward his mouth and cover it. The victim seems to struggle as much as he can, but after thirty seconds the chemicals seem to kick in and the victim collapses. Since the kitchen knife provides too much evidence, I decide to take the gun and directly aim it at his head. I pull the trigger just enough so the pistol would fire, and the bullet lodges through his head onto the ground. Blood cascades everywhere, but thankfully none lands anywhere on me. I place the gun next to him, grab the gym bag, and walk away from the scene. I walk up the steps, place the kitchen knife back in its rightful place, and close the door behind me. I run from the house back to my car and drag the bag full of money right behind me. I unlock my ‘02 Pontiac Sunfire and place the money right in the trunk. I get into my car and started it up, driving toward my house. After reaching my destination, I get out of the car to grab some shut eye. Slowly, I walk toward my house; recollecting all the things that happened tonight. It was weird enough that the man never reacted against me until the last minute during the robbery, but he also mentioned that the money wasn’t clean. Furthermore, what would a rural man such as him do with so much money without few people noticing it in the process? So many questions seem to spiral my mind, but the late night appears to settle into my eyes as I feel more drowsy at each step. I approach my door and pull out my keys. Placing them in the lock, I turn it towards me to unlock and turn the doorknob. I take off my gear and set it in the chest next to the door and padlock it. After sealing it, I slid the chest back into its groove and covered it with the fake wall, then the table. I crept toward my bed like a lifeless zombie, got under the covers, and closed my eyes. I did it, I thought. I just murdered another innocent man just to get money. I only hope my mother never finds out about the terrible deeds I’ve done over the past few years. I shed a tear through my eye as I finally fell asleep in the silent night. My alarm buzzes and I turn around to hit the snooze button. It’s only 9:00, I thought, and I can afford to sleep in for five minutes. Those five minutes seems to drag, though, as I recollect my actions from last night. First, how was that robbery so simple? After all, there wasn’t any sign of a security system nor any sight of cameras moving back and forth. Secondly, the man mentioned that this wasn’t his first time being robbed, yet everyone that’s robbed him so far was killed on the spot. So if that was the case, why did I succeed when they didn’t? The alarm finally goes off again, so I decide to wake up. Thankfully the situation from last night didn’t take very long, so I got about seven hours of shut eye in me. I get up and get ready for work. After a nice shower and putting my wardrobe on, I go towards my kitchen and look at the phone. Seeing as I have a message, I place some bread in my toaster and let the message play. “Hello, Dante? This is you-know-who. Bring the money by 6 PM today. No exceptions. Drop it off at the dumpster of the local 7-Eleven. We’ll have a bag in there for you to drop the money into so you don’t have to waste yours. We’ll talk later this week.” Shit, I thought to myself, I was going to see mother today too. Hopefully visiting hours are still until 8 PM today. The bread pops out of the toaster with a fresh smell of baked bread. I take the butter out of the refrigerator and grab a cup of coffee to go along with my toast. My breakfast seemed to taste bitter this morning. I wonder, I thought, if this is the taste of sin. After all I only feel this way after I’ve taken a life away and ransacked their place. After a rather dull breakfast, I get up and go towards my Sunfire, start the car up, and drive off. For such a dark night, the morning seemed quite relaxing. The warm, crisp air felt good to breathe into as it helps me relax a bit before going in to work. The bright sun seemed to make the grass glisten to make the atmosphere almost majestic. After a half hour ride to the shop, I step out of my car and head into the building. “Recipe For Life” was the chemistry facility I work for. Seems like an odd name, but most of our goals is researching chemistry to help treat or alleviate diseases and viruses that infect our bodies everyday. I walk through the doors of the facility and head toward my locker. There, I take off my street clothes and put on my special lab coat and goggles. After finishing getting dressed, I step into the lab prepared to hear what the boss wants done today. “Good morning Dante,” my boss greets me, “today’s assignment is easy. I just need you to work in Lab 4 with Christine. She’ll give you the rest of your instructions for the day.” He pauses for a moment and clears his throat. “Today is going to be a short day and, due to budget cuts, I’m afraid I’m going to only keep you in here with Christine for four hours today instead of the regular eight. It should only be this week, though, so next week should still be the same old same old.” “Very well, Professor,” I replied, “I’ll head over and see Christine right now. I go through the doors that has the words “LAB 4“ at the top. I step through the dim-lit hallway and attempt to make my way through the second set of doors. Finally, I reach my destination and open them while quickly shutting them behind me. I don’t get to work with Christine too often, but she’s a pretty girl. She definitely found the right field of work. A rather medium height woman, she wore blonde hair that just reached as far as her neck. With her dazzling blue eyes and a clean white smile, she seemed to brighten the grim place just with her presence alone. Her lab coat covered most of her body barring her neck, but it seemed to reveal just enough curvature to make a grown man curious of what hid behind the cloak. Well, I guess to a pervert anyway. The outfit was complete with a little bit of her legs showing and high heels to accompany her feet. Seems odd that they allow high heels at these facilities, but I won’t complain. “Good morning Dante,” Christine interrupts, “it looks like you’re going to be tortured working with me today. Uncle Vern needs some samples of the latest chemical and tests on these diseased lab rats. I think the most we need to do today is injection and taking notes along the way. Since the injection will take roughly twenty-four hours to take into effect, we won’t get results until tomorrow anyway. The samples are over there on the table.” I walk towards the table and see a few syringes with a weird yellow substance inside them. Next to the syringes were a few rubber gloves. These ones were a little different from the everyday rubber gloves, though. These ones are slightly reinforced inside with a padded glove. Normally we never had to do this, but ever since that accident one year ago we were forced to use these gloves as a precaution. I put the gloves on, grab the syringes, and head towards Christine. She picks up a lab rat and holds it gently in her hands. The little critter tries to squirm out of it like it’s bound into a snake’s coil, but it quickly gives up and just stares at me with an innocent look. “Shouldn’t I be holding the rats?” I ask Christine curiously. “I’m afraid you might accidentally kill them with those brutish hands of yours,” Christine replies. I swallow a little from shock, but I quickly recover. I approach Christine with the syringes and place one in my hand. “So what is this supposed to treat?” I ask again. “Rotavirus,” she spoke, “I’m sure you’ve heard of the virus before?” “I’m afraid I’ve never heard of it before,” I say with a defeated look on my face. “To summarize it nicely, it’s a disease that usually infects small children. While causing sever diarrhea, it is not related to influenza. We’re attempting to create an immunization for this disease so the chances of even being infected with it is slim to none.” “Ah, I see,” I reply warmly, “I’m glad you know your stuff Ms. Christine.” “Why thank you,” Christine replies, “I’m just glad someone listens to me today and not attempt to boss me around like I’m some slave.” Despite Christine’s tight allegations with her Uncle Vern, the owner of “Recipe For Life”, she seems to always be a little nosy with situations. It’s almost coincidental since she has a small nose to match the thing she’s somewhat known for most. She’s pretty timid otherwise, so she doesn’t attempt to pick up fights nor does she try to boss people around. This causes her to be constantly bullied a bit by the co-workers. Thankfully, she can take some of the heat, though there has been days where she’s been pushed emotionally to the limit. “So what were you doing last night,” she asked as she was still holding the lab rat that I placed the syringe in. My heart seemed to pick up a few beats after being asked such an odd question. “Oh nothing,” I quickly replied, “I just went around town and did a few things. Nothing too serious otherwise.” “I don’t understand you Dante,” Christine said with a more relaxed tone, “why are you the only co-worker that doesn’t seem to pick on me? It’s strange that you don’t join your usual buddies and do what they do best in this facility.” “Why beat a dead horse?” I countered, “I’m not here to torture you, I’m here to work with you. Unfortunately the dumb fucks that work with you haven’t understood that yet, but I’m not here to make lives miserable. Besides, I rarely work with you as is. I’m usually in Lab 2 processing the chemicals. You move around the building all the time.” The rest of the day seemed to consist of talking about recent events and how work has been. Since the day was short, we only got a small break and went back towards the act again. After injecting the lab rats with what seemed to be the immunization, we injected the Rotavirus into the lab rats to see if the immunization would take place and prevent the rats from getting sick. After injecting the last rat, the clock showed the time “2:57“. Time to get out of this place, I thought to myself. As I started to walk out the door, I heard Christine in the background. “Hey,” she spoke, “um... maybe we can hang around sometime this week? I mean, since you don’t have anything better to do, might as well spend it with a girl, right?” “For a timid girl you do sure seem to be up front when you want to do something,” I reply. “Well, I thought we could talk more about work,” she said. “Uncle Vern is trying to set up a specific lab with me as the head of it and I’m looking for people to work under my wing. Seeing as you’re one of the few determined workers that doesn’t treat me like some lifeless doll, I thought we could discuss about the job situation and maybe recommendations to take under the wing.” “Well,” I reply, “I guess we could discuss this over dinner. Perhaps at ‘Guido’s’?” “I’d love to Dante,” Christine replies. “How about tomorrow at 7:00 PM?” “Sounds fine by me,” I state. “See you then.” I head straight for the locker room and get dressed into my street clothes. Seeing as I got out of work earlier than usual, I decided to go head up to the local hospital and see my mother. Just don’t forget, I state in my head, you still need to drop off that money at the 7-Eleven. While reminding myself, I approach my car and drive half an hour towards St. Paul’s Hospital. It was about 3:22 when I arrive at St. Paul’s. Traffic was shockingly decent today, as most days it’s hectic to get here from my facility. I step out of the car, take another deep breath, and open up my trunk. Secretly, I unzip the bag and pull out a nice wad of cash. I stuff as much as I can in a couple of envelopes and place it in my trench coat. I slowly enter the building, taking time since I was in no real rush today. Mother is usually up around by 3:30 anyway, so I was giving her enough time to fully wake up. I enter through the doors and a shiver goes down my spine. It seems like whenever I enter this place I can’t shake off that horrible accident that happened a year ago. I pass the service desk that seemed to be buzzing with phone calls, clicking from constant typing, and printing going on all over the place. I enter the elevator and press “3“. As I step outside the elevator, I walk into room “301“ and gently close the door behind me. In the bed my mother seems to be somewhat awake. She still looks a little groggy, maybe due to the medicine, but I’m sure she can recognize me. “Hello mother,” I said softly. “It’s me, Dante.” “I’m glad you came here today sweetie,” mother said. “I get lonely up here sometimes; even with the doctors taking care of me. I just wish I could get out of this place.” “I’m still looking for the cure, mother,” I reply, “but it’s not going so well at the moment. Budget cuts have gotten pretty severe. In fact it’s the only reason I’m here this early today. I haven’t been able to do much more breakthroughs of the paralyzing chemical serum, but I did discover the mix of chemicals that caused it which will help. I only was with Christine today injecting lab rats with Rotavirus immunization.” “Ah, Christine,” my mother sighs, “she was a woman equal to me in that facility. It’s a damn shame everyone constantly picked on her, but I always was there for her when she was moody. It’s a good thing you took after your mother and try to take care of her, Dante. She’s a good girl.” “I know mother,” I remark, “though as of late she’s being promoted to look after her own wing. She wants to take me with her, so perhaps I can request to have research done on your dilemma first since we know her well.” “That’s wonderful news,” mother says happily, “it’s a shame I can’t join her. I know if I wasn’t in this condition she’d be happy to take me with her. Though I only wish that she’d just visit me once.” “I’ll try to get her to visit you tomorrow mother,” I state, “we’re meeting at ‘Guido’s’ tomorrow to discuss about the wing’s team members.” “Please tell her I said hello,” mother sadly breaths, “I miss her so much. I just want to see her once.” We continued to discuss about things that happened recently such as the company, how life was, and told some stories at what happened on each end of our lines. I look at my watch and realize the time: 5:36. I decided I’d go make the drop off early and I could just head straight home. Mother will be fine, after all we talked for two hours. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this short today mother,” I spoke, “I’ll try to see you within the next few days. I probably won’t see you tomorrow sadly, but I’m sure you understand.” “Good luck with Christine,” she said with a joking face. I walk out of the hospital and hop into my car. I drive off to the 7-Eleven near me and park near the front. I go in and buy my usual slurpee and walk behind the gas station. Looking at the garbage dump, I search for a bag. After a few seconds of eye glancing, I see a gym bag. I go back to my car and drive towards the garbage dump. I look around to see that I’m not attracting any signs of trouble. Quickly, I open the trunk and grab my bag. I climb up the garbage dump, dragging the bag with me. I look within the bag and see a note in the bag. “Please make sure to drop off your Two Million in here. Cash only, by the way. - The Administration” I count out the wads of money and find out that I have a little over two million dollars. I stuff it inside the bag and zip it up. What was left of the money I placed back into a pocket of the bag for safe keeping. I place the bag back into the car and drive off towards the hospital again. I go towards the front desk and try to find help. Finally, an older woman notices me. “Can I help you sir?” she asks. “Yes, I’m looking for a Dr. Idraki,” I say. “Is he around at the moment?” “I can call him up for you sir,” she replies. “I just need one second.” She hops onto the phone and calls around the hospital to find the man. Since I know he worked the graveyard shift, I didn’t like to try to approach him until around 7:00 at night. It was about 6:43, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I’m here about fifteen minutes early. The woman hangs up the phone and looks back at me. “Floor 5, the doctor will be there waiting for you,” she says. I step into the elevator and push “5“. As I go up, I think about how this entire situation will go today. Dr. Idraki is a bit of a strange man and he doesn’t like his payments late, but this is probably the first time I ever missed a bill, and it was only by a single day. He personally requested that I pay him face-to-face, seeing as giving as much money as I do to his secretary would bring massive suspicion to his workplace. I finally arrive at the Fifth floor with a strange man waiting for me. He was about a foot shorter than me and had receding white hair. His left eye had a monocle and a can supported his right side. “Welcome, Dante!” the old man croaked, “so good to see you come up and see me! Come, step into my office.” We walked into his office. Idraki offered me a seat, and I reluctantly sat down. I didn’t like to sit down in his office long since it was a rather dim-lit room with a few things that scared me. Above him was his Doctrine, framed proudly like it was his little trophy. Idraki took his seat, leaned forward on his desk, and started to speak. “I’m afraid you’re a little late on your payment today,” he says softly with an angry tone. “You realize that I keep your mother’s welfare in my hands, and I’m more than happy to pull the plug on her.” “I understand sir,” I reply. “I have a little extra to accommodate me being late on this month’s payment. I got side-tracked getting ready for last night. “Alright,” he states. “Let’s see what you got.” I pull out the manilla envelopes and place them onto his desk. The old man, giddy with excitement, opens them up and finds wads of cash sitting inside them. He almost had an insane look in his eyes, then he looks up and slaps himself back into reality. Calmly, he put the money into his desk and put his hands back onto the desk, folded. “I think this will suit me enough,” Idraki spoke with a rather excited tone. “Still, don’t ever be late on payments like this again. Your mother costs our facility a lot of money, and I can’t afford to miss her payments as the government is attempting to crack down on handicapped patients like a bunch of mad dogs.” About two months ago, the U.S. decided to make a new law that attempted to not only control the population, but also rid of any “useless trash” in the process. People that were severely handicapped and weren’t of elderly age were to be executed unless they made a specific tax to prove that they were useful to the economy. While it seemed like an absurd law, if they made the payment they would be granted full coverage and a few other benefits. It was a double-edged sword law, but most people that were pruned up or in a state like my mother’s would immediately be put on the chopping block or force families to make painful choices. The president’s only comment to the law was “It’s one of the few ways we can recover from our economic crisis.” “I promise not to do it again, sir,” I reply softly. “Thank you for buying time for her.” “Not a problem,” the doctor said, “I know you’re a good kid deep down. I hope you can find her cure soon.” I quietly left the hospital and step into my car once more. I finally arrive at home around 8:00. I step into my house once more and attempt to make a microwave meal to just get my by for the night. As I finish off the last of my slurpee, I look towards my phone to find a message. “Hello Dante. It’s you-know-who. We’ll need to meet on Thursday around 9:00 PM at Flaming Barrage Bar. We’ll discuss everything once you get there. Good job on the payment by the way.” There were no other messages. Not even from Christine. I turn on the television and grab my dinner. Slowly, I eat the food while flipping through television stations. It’s pitiful. It’s the 21st century and yet there is STILL NOTHING GOOD ON. SHEESH. I finally flip to the news where I see the man’s house that I ransacked the other night. “We report to you from 674 Talon Street where a man was shot in the head by his own gun and his entire house was left unscathed. Aside from the blood on the floor, of course. While there were security cameras and alarms, they appeared to be shorted out. No other reports were seen about this murder nor were there any testimonies that heard the gunshot at any time. We hope to bring you more on this story later.” I think it’s time for bed, I thought to myself. I’m sick of listening to every death that I commit. I slowly enter my bed and lie down. I hope that of all days tomorrow will end well. I shut my eyes and finally fell asleep again. Yeah I know the title copies a song but I couldn't think of anything better off the top of my head. >_<; Also a work in progress.