Recession: Vagabond

An itinerant and their cohort go on to complete a simple job in a false utopia. However hat seems like a simple meet up with a client soon slowly devolves into pure insanity and the unknown.

                “Jesus Christ Ronan,” a particularly garish voice had yelled “get the hell up, someone else needs you.” It had taken me a second, but I finally remembered who it was, Yarvonne, a rather beautiful young woman who went out of her way to help me in my time of need, noticeably growing tired of my disregard for my own well being. Summoning all the strength I could in my lazy and hung-over state I crawled from between the trash and from under my ragged blanket into the alley. You’d think after doing this over and over again you’d get used to it, but regardless Yarvonne never seemed impressed, once a face of pity now looked at me with disgust. “What time is it, where am I,” I inquired, hoping to get as much information I could in order to piece together the events of last night, “that doesn’t matter, what does is this five grand job that I just got, five grand and a bottle of scotch.”

“With five grand I can buy a lot of scotch.”

“The client says it’s special.”

            I chuckled, “Well then let’s not keep him waiting.” Yes, let’s not, after all five thousand dollars isn’t going to make itself, and no amount of alcohol quenches my thirst, there’s always room for more. What did disturb me, however was the offer, not it’s suspiciously large amount, as I am not one to shy away from dirty work, but rather the scotch. It seems every b*****d thinks they can come to me with a bottle of liquor and a handful of cash expecting me to crawl out from whatever hole I am in and take them up on it, and the worst part is they are right. I used to think of myself as a free man, living as vicariously as hedonistically as I please, and yet I here I am the b***h of money and alcohol. Regardless, no amount of distaste in the client’s lack of respect is going to get me paid. “It’s been a long time since I last smoked, you have a cig,” with hope that Yarvonne would provide me with what I desired she instead snapped “no, I don’t cater to filth.” I was shocked but only for a little while, when you try to help someone who isn’t willing to help themselves it’ll happen. “We’re not going to meet the client just yet,” she mentioned, “first you need to clean up, you can’t go meeting anyone to pay you ten times your average job amount smelling like piss, maybe you can look past idiotic and childish behavior and put your ego behind yourself for this one job, yeah, when was the last time you have even seen this much money?” She made a good point, it won’t be a while until I get another job like this, best I am in pristine shape. It isn’t a matter of being someone lapdog for a job, but rather one of deception I suppose, years ago I wouldn’t take that but work has been getting scarcer lately, I figure I’m too good at my job I suppose, things have been changing, and lately I’ve just been wasting away.

            Not speaking another word to each other we eventually made it back to her apartment, walking all the way there to make a already tedious journey awful. Her apartment was a nice change of scenery to the ghettos and alleys of the inner city, pristine, white, and decorated; sometimes I forget such beautiful places exist. “Mind I get something to eat, I haven’t eaten in two days”

“What did you spend last job’s cash on?”

“Come on”

“I don’t know what a ‘come on’ is, must be expensive”

“F**k off okay; you want me to do this job or what?” She stopped, knowing very well I’d walk out on her if I wanted to. When you’re making half of five grand in one day you can’t really afford to play with your odds. “Take a shower first, and then grab something, and don’t put your dirty clothes back on, I have something for you.” She left for a short while then tossed an outfit to the ground at my feet, it was old, and I had left it at her house a few years back, along with many other things she had since gotten rid of sadly. “Do something to your hair as well; you can use whatever you need in the bathroom, just clean yourself up.”

As she said, so I did, thinking of everything I could do with all that money, even after giving her half of it I still have a lot of money, I could hole up in a hotel and have somewhere to sleep for once in almost a year, hell if I get lucky I could buy a cheap car and make that my home. While showering I thought of all the possible ways I could spend the money and make the most use of it not once thinking of settling down. Like always she thinks to get me to finally stop what she considers a life of degeneracy, a life instead full of self-indulgence, a life absent of the binds of any societal structure, a life in which I do as I please and not a damn thing anyone says can stop me, so long as they aren’t paying me that is. Yet, I ask myself if what I truly live for is worth it as opposed to the stability of the other side of the fence, the other side full of others also putting up the façade of goodwill and human decency Yarvonne shows. We’re no different really, nobody is, save for the fact that I am willing to spit in someone’s face and laugh while the rest of society spits in someone’s face and then says sorry. The only thing we really live for at the end of the day is our self after all, it shouldn’t matter if you are open about it, and instead you would be in the wrong for not being open about it. And this is my reward for free will and honesty, living with the trash, being scooped up by someone who I would much rather no longer see every other day, working for others to fill our my pocket and give her a little extra cash on the side. Had she not had such a way with finding work I’d drop her in an instant, yet nobody even acknowledges a dirty homeless man, end even before this it was as if my lack of charisma and charm served to nullify any talent I have, and instead label me as just another dirty minority; just a statistic and a failure. And like the little dog I am I clean myself up to please my master and get my treat after my trick, money and booze, money and booze, was it worth it? Maybe had I played the role of the dog earlier in my life I could afford to be the master, but even then isn’t everyone someone else’s dog? Maybe it isn’t a question of if I had made my mistakes in the past, but rather one of am I making a mistake right now? What is five grand to free will after all, life I suppose. I can’t play the friendly city anarchist forever, living for nobody but yourself will get you either killed or locked up. Soon I’d have to assume my role as slave number whatever, prettying myself up for first appearance.

Yarvonne sat on the couch, looking out the window that took up the entire portion of her wall. As she heard me walk towards her she slowly looked towards me, at first she smiled but it soon turned into an expression of somber. Knowing very well why I smiled myself in return “been a while hasn’t it,” she just stared “I found a better paying job, one that might alone be able to get me a house, a car, and maybe soon a family.” I didn’t want to entertain her childish fantasies. “Sure, but why waste the time here, how far a walk is it until we make it to our destination.”

“I soon won’t be doing this anymore, I won’t need to.”

“Alright.”

“I can finally live normally, like everyone else. I found you something to, like, get you the hell off of the streets something.”

“You can keep it.” There was a moment of silence, it was to be expected, this is how things always end, yet part of me regretted it, only for a second, and before long she piped up again “we’re driving this time, I’m going to be borrowing a ride from a friend, we are going into another city entirely.” I knew where we were going, to Glory, an odd city it was. Everything about it seemed off, like I had stepped into a different world all together, disingenuous behavior so blatantly obvious it became downright satirical. Nothing anyone said seemed real, it was as though everyone was taught an array of phrases and from then on the entire city kept regurgitating them. Not a single relationship seemed genuine, from friends to family, and the entire atmosphere was intoxicatingly friendly. Of course, it was always funny to see a Glorious Citizen angered, as their passive aggressive behavior served as a nice contrast to their otherwise obviously fake exterior. The only thing I admired about them is their honestly when it came to business; to this day I don’t know a single Glorious Citizen that would hesitate to drop someone out of their life, cut someone from a deal, and other dirty things all in the name of business, as it seemed their only reason to show dissatisfaction; in fact “business the city” is what Glory should be named. Because of its cutthroat citizens’ “businesses” it boasts the highest crime rate in the country. It shows too, the city is the most beautiful place I have ever seen, no home has less than two stories, skyscrapers as tall as the tower of Babylon twisted and turned in a manner only comparable to a tornado, restaurants as prestigious as it can get, and buildings with the most creative shapes imaginable. Streets formed beautiful patterns and despite all this everything runs like a well oiled machine, you would think a roundabout around every corner would be enough to anger the citizens, yet the eccentric design is what people demand. “You know well enough neither you nor I want to go there, why would you accept a job from anyone out there,” I begged wondering what she was thinking “was the five thousand dollars not enough of a hint to you? Is this really a big deal? They are good on their word, they pay what they say so long as we are good on our work, you do well and we don’t worry about anything.” She wasn’t wrong, for the most part anyone who lied about money ended up dead, it wasn’t a big deal to them, and as such the majority of people took payment really seriously. So long as we went in, did our job, and then left it should be a big deal. After that, nothing else really mattered, nothing else needed to be said.

            The drive itself, like the walk, was entirely silent, making the ride all the more unsettling. No matter how many times you drive through Glory you never quite get used to it; tense. Even though nobody ever terrorized the town in any remote form or fashion you always get the feeling of being in constant danger. Never for any reason really, it was just the vibe you always get, despite how immaculate the city was and how reserved everyone acted there was never any feeling of safety in the town. The town itself, however, didn’t compare even slightly to our destination, the likes of which was in a construction zone, snug between three identical and twisted high rises, the likes of which had no real purpose, not that I could make out. Almost hidden in the yard, in between construction vehicles and I-beams and dirt lie snug the only structure with any rhyme or reason to this mess, had Yarvonne not directed me to it I would have never found it. The structure itself, though it was the only thing in the immediate vicinity that even represented a structure, was, in essence, just a box with a door and a light. It stood alone, around it exist the only vegetation in the entire yard, flowers, bushes, and vines sprouted from the ground at which the box stood. The door itself was worn but aside from that everything else about the box seemed so new, pristine and clean. It was bizarre, but that didn’t stop us; now that we were already here it would be silly to turn back after all.

            The door was unlocked, in fact, it showed no signs of being able to lock; daring anyone who so thinks to come in to do so in good reason. The interior, the atmosphere, and the sound was all against you. I had at first thought the rest of the city was bizarre on its own, but this was in an entirely different ballpark. If the rest of the architects got off too strange and unique architecture the designer for this building got off to exhibitionism its purest form. Initially things weren’t crazy, just strange; Yarvonne and I descended a metallic stairwell, entirely black and brown. It was completely rounded, however, the stairs concaved, the railing was thin, and the wall displayed blue veins which I could only guess was lapis. It would have been a much prettier sight had we not struggled so hard to work our way down the needlessly large stairwell. That was until we made it to the bottom where things got really strange. The veins on the wall eventually worked their way to the floor which was now jagged in a manner only comparable to a mountain’s face, a mountain of black marble and lapis veins. We walked on an isolated path, interrupted only by the occasional perpendicular path, isolated in what seemed like a cave with no top or bottom, just a pit of darkness, with the only hint at them not being endless being the over abundance of marble and lapis pillars. The cave was rather dark, and if it weren’t for lights atop poles along the paths and pillars it would be completely void of light. Occasionally along the other paths figures could be seen walking to and from unknown locations. The cave was deafeningly quiet, so much so we could hear everything, our breathing, the beating of our heart; every step we took, not a thing wasn’t heard; it was unbearable.

            The walk was long, an much longer than I would have liked, not even taking into consideration the bizarre architecture we had the displeasure of viewing. Eventually we came to an end, to my surprise, and were met with a large gate surprisingly being the most lavish thing I had ever seen. It was white, as a result of what I could only assume was ivory, grated with pure gold bars, at each intersection was a jewel of a different type with no particular rhyme or reason. On the outside of the grating were jet and lapis statues laid flat upon the grate itself. There were many rather unremarkable ones in the sense that they all looked similar, like pheasants, however atop the door itself rested the a group of much more elaborate statues, like of congregation of sorts, and in between all of them an orb with an unfamiliar symbol, the like of which I had no knowledge of. In addition to that at each side lie a pillar, each in the form of a statue. One statue looked sad, it was scrawny and stood alone, the other was happier, looked to be healthy and stood with many, and they were connected by jeweled chainmail. It was quaint, in such a town that only valued the interests of the individual that there would be such an emphasis on the many, considering everything else, however, this was the least of my concerns.

            The door had opened for us as if on command, and lead to an ivory palace, we were no longer underground, we were no longer on earth. The doors closed on us, leaving us trapped in this confusing location, the sky was all around us, clouds were below us, the palace was devoid of walls, and the sky was a blue much too deep for my own tastes. "How long until we meet our client, I don't want to be here too long?" I needed to ask, the silence and the scenery was killing me, I needed to say anything to ease my mind of what I was witnessing. "We are here, from this point on they will come to us, or so I was told."

"And by who, I have yet to even see another person since we got here?"

"The client, naturally, I was well...uh, briefed before coming here. I figured you would take it a bit harder personally."

"Don't worry, I'm taking it rough but I imagine it won't matter if we get in and get out yea."

"It wouldn't, if that were the plan."

"What's it then? What are we here for?"

"Ronan, anything to get you off the streets." She finished, I turned towards her, and in that instant she was gone, leaving me alone in this scape.

            For hours I wondered the seemingly endless palace, stretching an infinity in each direction, stairs sprawling into clouds, pillars stretching into the space. Traveling obsidian paths, from ivory island to ivory island. And eventually I was at a dead end, cul-de-sac of ivory temples, each with a pillar of pure gem stretching from the skies to the ground below. And then I heard it, in echoing in my ears, the bellowing of a creature alien to any form of imagination on earth. It continued to bellow as it rose from below. It was winged and large, black and gold, overtly feminine and divine. It had a long neck at the end of it one large head and four protruding much smaller heads. Out from its body extended four multi jointed arms finished by rather human hands. We looked onto each other, it expecting me and I surprised by its presence. It then began speaking as it writhed around. "I have been dying to meet you! Such beauty for a human you are, I heard the woman normally can't get you to look like you even want to be alive most of the time, how unfortunate. You really are a sight to behold darling." I was left aghast, an angel from the depths of hell rises up with a screech that would hurt the deaf and speaks at me with such casual jest it almost seems insulting. "I hope you don't mind, but, you mind telling me who the hell you are?"

"Well, sir, I am technically your client, technically. Realistically, you are my patient. You've been afflicted you see, that woman of yours was deeply concerned. In today's world such selfish behavior can't fly, by no means sweetie."

"What are you on about?"

"You're talented you are, and an asset to this world for sure Yarvonne saw that herself she did. She knew you weren't going to shape up yourself, and she also knew that for the world to work well everyone needs to be on the same page. We can't have fringe thinkers you see, she promised to help me on that end so long as I shaped you, we change you fixing one more flaw in the world and she keeps you to herself. She will continue to work for me, as you will to, in exchange for her an your own well being. I don't see why anyone wouldn't like that, it's a win win for us all. Now, let's not wait and get on with the show with love by your very own queen EcEzrah Hex-Quinn! Or at least, soon to be queen."

            I was left shocked, that Yarvonne would go to such lengths to change me, but more over, shocked the fact that she was willing to have me even if it meant surrendering my individuality. The creature let out a shrill cry, and at that instant form the temple poured dozens of jet and ivory creatures, surrounding me in an instant. They were humanoid, and as such I could see them smile as they bore witness to my transformation and in an instant I was left bent over in pain. My mind was warped beyond reason, and all the onlookers did was heckle, thoroughly entertained at my suffering. They were not interested in who I was, nor who I will be as I will be just one of them among many, instead they looked on to see the bad guy suffer. Their god having conquered another evil soul. I lost reason and went into insanity, my mind was no longer mine, instead was at the mercy of EcEzrah, yet I knew who I was still, and I remained myself left to suffer and watch myself, act not as my own. I was soon returned to Yarvonne, a plastic creature left only going through the motions, once an individual, now nothing more than a grain in a dessert, indistinguishable from the next.

Author's Note

Please mention anything you like, even minor grammatical issues and formatting problems.