The International

Smoking kills. Psychopaths, too.

   I elbowed my way through the crowd and stepped outside the pub, wearing a disgusted look on my face.
   Why the hell can’t these imbeciles take a hint? Maybe I should stick a “NOT INTERESTED” note on my forehead the next time I decide to go out.
   I stood on the edge of the sidewalk and lit a cigarette. I drew in two long puffs and let the nicotine invade my brain, trying to suppress the growing feeling of guilt that was gnawing on me. I’d promised my sister I’d quit smoking by the end of the week, but I clearly under-estimated the power of stupidity over addiction habits.
   Sorry, Pam. I’ll try harder.
   The weather was unusually cold and I was pleased to have had the foresight to put on my warmest coat this evening. Living in New York for many years had taught me not to take weather channels very seriously. Most of the time they’re completely off track.
   I tightened the scarf around my neck and shut my eyes, cigarette dangling from my lips. The street was completely deserted. No living soul on sight. Which was quite surprising for a regular Sunday evening.
   The hubbub from inside the pub grew louder behind me then died out. I turned my head around and saw a man, probably nearing his forties, come out with a cell phone pressed against his ear. He seemed mildly irritated with the conversation. He wore black leather gloves and a smart blue Armani suit, all topped with an irresistible thick beard. He reminded me a bit of Chris Evans, but with a much firmer jaw line.
   I tossed him a quick glance over my shoulder then resumed my smoking. He must have caught it because a few seconds later he ended his call with a blunt “call you later” and came to stand on my left.
   ‘Lung cancer and hypothermia,’ he scoffed, shaking his head and taking out a pack of Lucky Strike. ‘That’s a double-tap for smoking.’
  I smiled and said, ‘Yeah, I can’t say it’s nice and warm. It’s like a freaking blizzard out here.’
   He offered me a cigarette and I declined by showing him mine.
   ‘You’re not from around, are you?’ He asked.
   ‘What makes you think so?’
   ‘Well, I’ve never seen you at The International before, and I’m usually very observant when it comes to charming ladies like yourself.’ He turned to me with a grin that showed a perfect set of teeth.
   Smooth.
   ‘Sorry to disappoint you but I actually live here, in New York. I’m just constantly overwhelmed with work that I barely get to spend any time home. A shooting on the other side of the country was cancelled today, so here I am.’
   ‘A shooting?’
   ‘I’m a lingerie model.’
   I took a long pull on my cigarette then flicked it across the empty street.
   ‘I’ve been doing this for so many years now that I forgot how to interact with people verbally,’ I added. ‘It seems like the only way I can express myself is by posing, half-naked, in front of a dozen cameras every day.’
   ‘To be honest, I see nothing wrong with what you just said,’ the man said, shrugging.
   This time I giggled and punched him softly on the shoulder. We stood there silently for a whole minute, blankly staring at the illuminated buildings ahead.
   ‘I’m Harvey, by the way,’ he finally introduced himself, extending a hand.
   I shook his firm grip and told him that my name was Emily.
   ‘You wanna get out of here? It’s Super Bowl night and I can’t stand watching full-grown men chasing a ball and colliding against each other for two hours.’
   As tempting as this idea was, my guts told me to take a pass. And I usually trusted them.
   ‘I’m sorry, I think I’m gonna call it a night, Harvey,’ I said. ‘I have to be up very early, and I’ve had one drink too many.’
   He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He just stood there, expressionless, eyes unnervingly locked on me.
   What’s wrong with him?
   ‘Harvey?’ I asked, waving an arm across his face. ‘You’re scaring me.’
   I took a few steps back then turned around, heading for the pub, as I felt fear slowly climbing up my spinal cord. 
   That’s when he grabbed my arm and placed a piece of wet cloth on my mouth. I thrashed and battled but there was no way of getting out of it. My shrieks were muffled and nobody inside could’ve heard or seen me. I recognized the unmistakable, pungent smell of chloroform filling my nostrils as I gasped for air.
   Sounds were fading out around me. My vision started to blur. My kicking weakened.
   Then everything went black.
  
  
  
  
  
       
   

Reviews

[barleygirl]

I like your story & the gender issues (stated in review below) occurred to me, but it felt like a good time to reveal when you did. I don't read much scary stuff, but I'm thinking there could be a little more foreboding thru-out, to get our heart rates pumped up for the ending. Otherwise, your writing & your storytelling are top notch!

[Moody]

Thanks a lot Barley, that's very flattering! I agree I could've made it a bit more thrilling but I didn't want it to be a scary one until later.

[Woody]

a very interesting write, Moody. was expecting something funny but obviously you're equally at home with serious pieces. intriguing and well penned. your mastery of English is worthy of praise. Pen on!

[Moody]

This fills me with absolute joy, Wood! Thank you

[Taylor]

This is the second work of yours that I've read. I like this one too. Just a couple of observations. I was surprised to find out the protagonist's gender was female (halfway through the piece). Most gestures prior to that were gender-neutral at best. For a moment, I thought that the encounter between the man who left the bar and the protagonist was between two men. As a reader, I felt a little ill at ease having to stop to question the gender -- seemed to halt the story line a bit (at least for me). I loved the play with "a shooting" and the ultimate revelation that the protagonist is a lingerie model (but again I wasn't certain the gender, recalling the many-storied image of a Calvin Klein model on a triangle building in Times Square). That created a sense of foreboding, which ultimately turned out to be accurate. A couple of points -- her observation about the weather being like a "freaking blizzard" -- there's no mention of snow, only cold. Also someone from NY would not be wearing a linen scarf on a cold night. I've lived in Manhattan and it's wool in winter. We also would not say "unusually freezing." It would be "unusually cold" or "frigging cold" or something like that. Also the "Super Bowl" is always played on Sundays, not Wednesdays. Keep writing. You're very talented and I look forward to reading more.

[Moody]

You're killing me Taylor hahahaha! Nah, I'm just kidding, I really appreciate you taking the time to criticize my story, it sure did make me take a step back and realize those inaccuracies.
However, the fact that I kept the protagonist's gender unspecified for half the story was intentional. I didn't want to shove anything gender-specific down the readers' throats. It wouldn't have felt natural. A lot of people just assume the protagonist is male by default, and are surprised when it turns out it's not the case. If this was an extract from a longer story, would it feel necessary to mention the gender?
But anyway, thank you so much Taylor, this was eye-opening for me, I'll make sure to be more careful next time. :D

[Taylor]

Moody, I appreciated your comment and the fact that the gender neutrality was intentional. And that's ok; it didn't trouble me a lot and maybe it adds to the mysterious nature of the piece. I just finished a story (Darkest Africa) and in it I had the guy place a book on his nightstand and a little while later, he was looking through it in the jungle. That had been in there a long while and I had never picked it up. Even Hollywood gets things wacky -- it's fun to watch films and see little mistakes like that.

[Moody]

You are definitely right about that.

[Stan Lee]

I like it! Very well written Moody. Like Samuel, it came as a surprise that the character was a female, having said that, you've done a good job there too. Especially enjoyed the way you skillfully show, rather than tell, with words. Impressive writing. Stay inspired! :)

[Moody]

I am absolutely delighted by your comment :) I will definitely stay inspired and keep writing!

[Samuel Dickens]

This is excellent, Moody. Nice flow, great wording, not overly done. One thing, though--until the guy hits on her, I didn't realize the narrator was female. Perhaps this type of writing is your niche? If, so, I think it shows.

[Moody]

I'm very flattered and glad you liked it, Samuel!
And the fact that the narrator's gender isn't very obvious was intentional. I didn't want to over-do it by sticking it out at the end of every line. It wouldn't feel as fluid. I find it challenging to try and write in the first person as a completely different persona (age- and gender-wise).

[Woody]

was expecting something funny. still this is good. well told and quite gripping till the end.
kind of leaves me wanting for more. could be expended to something bigger.