The Crazy Kind

Chapter 2: Levi

I let out a scream of pain as the drink splashed across my chest, sending jolts of burning agony tearing through my body. Ripping of my now ruined jacket in a frenzied rush, I turned my attention to the girl who had so graciously given me a scalding.

"What the hell!?" I demanded. Unfortunately for me, the coffee had already soaked through into my shirt. Dammit! I was pissed. I was really pissed. In fact, I had to try pretty freaking hard not to snap and flip the entire counter in a rage. As extreme as that sounds, it's the sad truth. Managing to restrain my anger, I resorted instead to slamming both palms onto the counter and glaring daggers at her.

Ever get those moments where you meet someone new and they just remind you so much about someone you used to know? That was her in that instant. This was the first time I managed to get a good look at her, regrettable circumstances aside, and there was just something eerily familiar about those full lips and jet black hair. I would never have admitted it to myself at the time, but those little features fit together so well it just made her an absolute delight to look at, if I'm honest. The only part of her that didn't quite fit in were her storm gray eyes. They felt a little off, for some reason. Fake, even. Nevertheless, my attention was immediately drawn to her. She simply stared back, in horror rather than awe, mouth agape and eyes wide until something seemed to click in that little mind of hers and she grabbed a big wad of tissues.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, sir. It was an accident. It really was." The words left her mouth in such a hurry they might as well have been on fire. The strange feeling of cloth rubbing against me hit me, tearing me out of my daze as I looked down to see her hands furiously scrubbing away at the massive stain on my shirt, tissues in hand. Silly girl. She of all people should have known coffee stains just don't come out. She worked in a coffee shop, for crying out loud! As annoyed as I was about what had just happened, making too much of a scene was probably not the best idea. It would take me hours to list out all the things that could go wrong if I drew too much attention to myself, and nobody got time for that!

"It's no big deal," I asserted, grabbing her hands and pulling them off of me as I did so. "Really, it's fine."

"No, this isn't okay," she stated, squirming her way out of my grip and resuming her task. At the time, chances are I wouldn't have entire disagreed with her, but there was no denying that this was getting a litle ridiculous. I backed up a few steps so I was just out of her reach.

"Listen, as much as I appreciate the help, I really haven't got the time to wait around and let you sort this out."

"Fine..." She paused as her hands left me. Not even gonna lie, I was a little saddened when they did so. I wasn't even sure why. We just happened to meet, randomly, and we didn't even know each other's names. Logically, she should have been just another person, but somehow, that wasn't the case. A lone finger snapped up to attention mere inches from my face as she finished her sentence. "But I owe you a drink, okay?"

"Fine." There was no point in arguing about something as trivial as a spilt drink.

"Then I guess I'll see you soon. I'm Iris, by the way," she introduced herself, extending an arm. The irony of it almost made me burst out laughing. The girl with weird eyes was named Iris. It was enough to bring to my face what must have been a pretty warm smile. Not a smirk, or a sneer, but a genuine smile. I couldn't quite place the almost alien expression at first, it had been that long. When I finally figured it out though, I wiped it off as quickly as humanly possible as my mind started racing. Sure, I smiled, but it was usually on my own command, and just to charm people when I need to. Why was this girl forcing it out? I couldn't have it! I just couldn't!

"Levi," I respond curtly, grasping her hand in mine and shaking it. That was when I saw it. She had a tattoo on her wrist. Why would I find a tattoo significant? Well, what really sent shivers down my spine was the image itself. A pair of shovels crossed over each other as if they were swords. I could feel the world get drowned out as my skin turned cold. How could a regular cashier such as herself have such a mark? I waved a quick goodbye with shaky hands and dashed out the door, scrambling to pull out my phone as I did so. When I was a fair distance from the coffee shop, I called up Ace, an old friend since we were kids, and arranged a meeting.

Walking briskly, I couldn't seem to force those pesky thoughts of my encounter with Iris out of my head. Thankfully, the graveyard where I was supposed to meet up with Ace wasn't very far. Going past those old, rusted gates, I couldn't help but wonder just how many people had entered but never left. Deep down I knew it didn't really matter, but it was still a depressing thought. It was only a matter of time before I found the only grave in that forlorn place that was actually of any interest to me.

Ace was already there, kneeling before his mother's final resting place. From the outside, he looked calm, and peaceful, but I knew that deep down, he was trying so hard not to break down in mourning. He was the reason this was our usual meeting spot. Somehow, maybe because he couldn't fully cope with the loss, he kept insisting all our discussions be held within close proximity to Adelyn's grave, saying that this way, she could still listen in on us making plans like she used to when we were just boys. In my mind, I used to dismiss the thought as absurd. The very notion of a corpse paying even the slightest attention to us was nonsensical, but I didn't have the heart to say it to him out loud.

"It's been almost nine years," Ace said in a trembling whisper. His eyes were red, and it was obvious he'd been crying. "I never got to say goodbye..."

It was true. Ace's mother had disappeared from our lives when Ace was only ten, only to reappear a few years later in the form of a news article stating she had been found dead in her own home. Somehow, despite the fact that she left him, Ace still loved her, and took the full impact of her death. He could never blame her for wanting to leave the brutal, barbaric corner of town we grew up in. The Subterrain was, and always will be known as nothing more than a cutthroat hub for crooks and killers, and the only logical reasons you'd go there were that you were a cop looking to catch a criminal or that you were cast out of basically everywhere else. I can't deny that it was nowhere as bad as it had been a decade ago, but at it's core, that's all it was.

"She went out a hero..." I laid an arm around his shoulders. "She brought dear old Dad down with her."

Adelyn had been killed by the serial killer known as Redmond 'Red' Turner. My father. Lord knows how many innocents the bastard murdered when he was free. That time, though, his victim fought back. She put a stab wound through his leg, leaving him unable to flee the crime scene. The cops arrested him on the spot. To think, some people back in the Subterrain actually considered him a hero. Yes, maybe he did manage to somewhat clean up the mess that was society it that dump, but that does not excuse a lifetime of murder. Red will always be a monster in my eyes.

"Still gone though," Ace muttered, wiping away a tear and turning away from the grave. "So what was so important that I had to come all the way out here, anyway?"

"I met this girl at the coffee shop today..." I trailed off, not quite sure how to talk about something like this, especially to someone like Ace. The tattoo Iris had wasn't just a regular tattoo. The twin shovels were a symbol used heavily by revolutionaries within the Subterrain to represent how they had to effectively dig out the violent and chaotic roots of their community and replace it with the admittedly relaxed rules and regulations they have today. They were people who would accomplish their task, even through theft, fraud or felony. People like my father, the one who took the life of Ace's mother.

"What, so you dragged me out here so you could talk about girls?" Ace questioned, slight frustration evident in his expression. Well, Ace, sorry but you're probably gonna get way more annoyed at what I'm about to say.

"Dude, she had the shovels." There was no point in beating around the bush, so I just say it. For a while my friend was frozen in place, fists and jaw clenched. Almost a minute later, he steals a glance to where his mother was buried.

"The shovels? So she's one of them. A monster!" He started marching towards the gates as he said it. This was what I was afraid of. If he had been free to leave, he would likely have marched right up to the coffee shop and pulled a gun on Iris. Wait, why was I worried about her? I should have been more worried about my best friend becoming a killer. Anyway, it wasn't hard for me to grab him by the shoulders and stop him.

"Just breathe. She's not even our age. At the time to the revolution, she would have been three, four at the most. She can't have been one of them," I tried reasoning with him.

"Then why the hell does she have their mark!?" The words are came out like venom. Vicious and dangerous.

"I want to know as much as you do, but you have to agree we're gonna start with simple questioning, okay?" I looked him in the eye to show him how serious I was. There was no logical way this girl could have been part of the old revolution, but it's generally a bad sign when the shovels start popping up.

"Fine. Let's go." Usually, I'm pretty good at reading people, but Ace was apparently an exception. As he said the words, I found it impossible to work out what was running through his mind. All I knew was that so long as I was still standing, I wouldn't let him harm Iris, or anyone in that coffee shop.