Gunner's Paradise

A Part to Play 1.1

The alarm woke Ralph as he got up in his small bedroom apartment. Once it had been full of life; but now all that remained were items that painted a picture of what was once there. He had been fortunate to be one of the few people that had access to water on the block.

How did things turn to this? He thought. When he was young, the city had so much hope; but now, with age, it seemed so different from what he once knew it to be. He looked at himself in the mirror. His once black hair now showed many gray signs, and even though he slept, the persistent lines remained on his face.

After his wife passed and the disappearance of his daughter, Ralph repeated the same process; just going through the same motions. He found joy in what he did; it kept him sane. He got himself ready for work and left.

It was noisy outside. The people were lively and tables were set up on the roads. He passed them as he glanced at various forms of gambling. The sun rays rained down on him harsher today. Ralph shielded his face with his hands as he reflected. He like all those in the area could not afford to drive. It was either you walked or you got on the train. Those who did have cars in this area were mostly associated with some form of crime, he figured. The man who sponsored him was a good guy. When he was in rough times, he ensured that the business would never have to close and kept the roof above his head. He owed this man a lot.

When his child had been lost a day on a family outing, he had also been there for him and although he tried his best to help, they never found her. Ralph had not given up hope. He believed his daughter would find her way home to him or if she couldn’t, that she was safe.

His wife had given up to alcohol, an expensive drug, and she just toiled in depression. He tried his best to help her uplift her mood, but nothing changed. The cheerful woman he met with a bubbly attitude was nowhere to be found. She left the house less and less until she wasn’t leaving at all. In her last days, she had gained much weight, her face had changed completely. Carved into it was her stress and her worries. Even on her deathbed, yet again that man was there to help him give her a funeral. The ashes that remained now lay within the house as he still couldn’t see himself parting with her even in death.

He tried to remember better times when they first met. They were both so young and the times before all of that, but the last moments always lingered with him the most. Even when he thought about his daughter, he kept seeing the last day she was with him and then the promise he made that day to her; to get her that stuffed toy she always wanted it laid there in the house, but she never returned.

He sighed out loud.

He didn’t live too far from the store he owned, so he never truly minded these walks there. The walk was a lonely one. However, regardless of how friendly he tried to be on the mornings, everyone he passed would not share his pleasantries. Not even those that live at the apartment with him. Most people kept to themselves and only spoke to others in cases where it benefited them.

Guess that’s why I enjoy working my job he thought; because it was only there that he could truly have engagements as he met all different types of people.

He wondered how Natalya was doing. She truly reminded him of his daughter; at least what she would be like at her age and he enjoyed seeing her. He felt pity for the children, but he didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable. I hope she is well, he thought as he made a turn towards his shop and found three children sitting outside.

                                                                                    #

Mathinda’s green, emerald eyes glistened as she wiped the sweat off her brow. Gazing around the classroom at those few people that remained, they had pacified them.

“Where is she?” she said out loud.

The sun shone on her tattered clothes as her slender body covered in blood was further pronounced by her golden hair. They had selected certain individuals in the classroom to kill; Those they believed would draw the least attention. Using a fragrance that made the body aware but limp when inhaled and unable to move. This was the best way for them to savor the kill. The others had also been drugged to sleep so that there would be no problems. They had ingested it in the food she had so graciously given them as their host, as their protector.

“No need to worry,” another servant responded, “she probably just left early. Come, my Lady, we have plenty to celebrate now. The harvest was bountiful; Let us give thanks for the new flock that came.”

“Where is Mark?” Mathinda asked.

“He has not returned yet,” a follower responded.

Mathinda looked to those that attended her and walked ahead, back to the basement of the school. There she took a seat at the head of a long table that was covered with various types of meat.

A statue of Malrano resided in the room, the third brother of the three gods who was never acknowledged by the Church. They pretended he didn’t exist but his followers were everywhere and here and now they gave their devotion to him.

Each seat sat a head member of each part of the school. There were eleven others; Ten women and one man. They were all ambitious and would get at each other’s throats. Each had made it here by their merit and sacrifices. Some more sadistic in nature than others, but still to her, they were at least worth some level of acknowledgment, especially the man. For their god, the worship did not hold men at the top of their table, which showed the merit he had to reach his position. From Left to Right Elizabeth Tudor, Mary Bathory, Gertrude Barker, Ranavalona Gallego, Catherine the Butcher, Darya Maven, Myra Koch, Karla Days, Belle Downes, Rosendale the Singer. Miyuki Matthews and lastly Henry Waltkins.

A banner stood above them; A woman with clawed hands holding a knife striking down. Each table member had a specific job to play that made them a key part of the survival of their society ranging from torture, finances, spying, training, and recruitment. To the outside, they may have seemed barbaric, but there were many rules like a normal society in their cult and punishment accordingly. There was also a democratic system that kept a leader in place. The school also had a separate section reserved for the prey and for the members of the cult, access was not granted for all areas and they kept them segregated at all times. Although a chosen few of the prey would end up becoming new members from time to time, it all depended on certain factors that they had to display, certain devotional characteristics that set them apart from the prey.

Mathinda Cassis: She came from a noble upbringing and when she first got here, there was nothing but a mob bickering and fighting each other over the right to sacrifice. Fools, she thought. Her class separated her from her peers. This and her manipulative nature secured her throne.

Mark was the only one that she kept as her confidant; He was loyal, much like a dog. She glanced them all over. They thought themselves special or different from the others, but they were all the same. They spoke in a harsher, common tone that could not bear the regal bearings that she possessed. Most of these leaders also could not read. She laughed mentally at the thought, although she played her part too well as a caring shepherd.

Mathinda addressed them. “In the night we kill.”

They all responded, “For our secrets to remain hidden.”

The feast lasted for a while, and then Mathinda was notified that a visitor was inquiring for them.

“Unexpectedly, and who is this visitor?” Mathinda asked loudly.

“He is the leader of one of the major gangs in the area, the White Fist," the messenger replied. “There are many armed men with him and they are positioned right outside the school.”

Mathinda sighed, she knew they were not on the best of terms with this gang. They placed violence over everything the strong should take from the weak.  The last year alone they had shot a few of the refugees accusing them of stealing but that wasn’t the reason they wanted free labour and this was a way of making all the others more subservient to their demands. It wasn’t like she cared about their deaths, only the image of safety that was ruined to lure more people here. Why were they here, they had never come to them directly before? The image that they have as caretakers shouldn’t create this kind of response.

“Why do they come here? They don’t show us the respect we deserve!” Myra said with furious passion.

“My, my Myra anger does not suit you. What would you have us do? Attack them to make an example? “Elizabeth replied calmly.

“They know nothing of our men or our schemes and they merely think we are sheep. It is better to remain that way for now,” Rosedale said as she looked to the others who showed agreement except Henry and Myra.

Darya looked at them both, “I have eyes in the street. We would get word if they were mobilizing for an attack. Despite how it looks outside, they would still need numbers to deal with this many people, even unarmed.”

Mathinda said nothing and just listened to them silently.

“So who should be the one to see to our guest outside?” “Maybe we should let Catharine go to entertain them. Maybe she might make a friend,” Karla said, chuckling.

Catherine’s attitude changed swiftly as she realized she was insulted, “Perhaps I should greet you later in your chambers, Karla,” she replied.

“No, I will be the one to go,” Mathinda said, killing the chatter of the others. The messenger bowed and left to give the message that he had received, but stopped short as another voice spoke.

“Are you sure my lady? It may not be safe.” Miyuki said, “It may be best to send someone else to act in your place.”

“Thank you for your concern, Miyuki, but I will be fine,” Mathinda said. With that, she gave the okay for the messenger to proceed.