A Knock Before Madness
1143 Words
Thunk - thunk - thunk - thunk.
In the evening, the sky gradually sank.
In the distance, on the bell tower of the Catholic Church, the heavy bells echoed in the air, as if announcing some kind of impending mutation.
Bruce leaned against the couch and opened his eyes in a daze, letting out a long yawn.
He propped a hand on his forehead and slowly sat up, his eyes wandering out the window for a moment as if he hadn't completely broken out of his drowsiness.
“Ugh ......” he rubbed his cheeks, ”isn't it time to take another job ......”
It wasn't just for the money-
It was also to suppress the hallucinations that were getting worse in his head.
Those hallucinations, like poisonous thorns, pulled him back from reality again and again.
Those were the ghastly figures of the dead, those he had “sent away” with his own hands, in the last second before they died.
There were also thousands of corpses, broken, charred and bloodied, repeatedly playing in his mind a laugh that did not belong to this world.
Sometimes those twisted laughs would overpower reality and make his palms tingle, like he longed to strangle something, to destroy something.
And the only way he could keep his sanity was to keep looking for part-time jobs and appraisals - fighting the crumbling consciousness with the busyness of reality.
Snap! Snap! --
Suddenly, a sharp rap on the door broke the silence in the room.
Bruce narrowed his eyes and was about to open his mouth to ask who it was when the door lock was forced open with a sharp clang of metal on metal.
Click!
A tall man resembling a humanoid beast barreled in.
The man's body was lanky and broad-shouldered, and underneath his thick black hair was a face with a rough but cold profile.
His stride was like a hammer, and every step he took felt like a step on Bruce's nerves.
Right behind him were two bodyguard-like men in suits and sunglasses. They were silent and wordless as they closed the door and stood like two door gods.
Crunch...
Bruce's old couch gave an embarrassed groan the moment the man sat down.
“Bruce, my dear nephew.”
The visitor grinned, his voice low and raspy but indescribably oppressive, “You've missed several family gatherings.”
Bruce took a deep breath and suppressed the cranky impulse at the back of his mind, shrugging with a leathery grin, “Uncle, you know ...... the medical bills for my adoptive parents are burning through so fast I'm just scrambling to pick up work. Really don't have time.”
The visitor was none other than Victor Rourke.
The leader of the Bloodbath Gang, the top player in the Los Angeles gangster world, and at the same time, Bruce's great uncle.
This was a man that Bruce had grown up in awe of - but now it was more of a fear.
He's seen Victor tear wolves apart with his bare hands at family hunting parties, devouring blood and bone with a wildness that even the beasts are ashamed of.
What was even more frightening was this family patriarch's ability to see through people's hearts.
Even someone like Bruce, who had practiced micro-expression control, would have a hard time hiding his emotions in front of him.
Victor leaned back on the couch, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it unhurriedly.
“Don't worry,” he said, ”I remember our agreement.”
Before the words left his mouth, a bank card snapped on the coffee table.
“In here, there's over two million dollars.”
Victor exhaled smoke slowly, “Enough to support your two old men's therapy for more than two years.”
Bruce's eyelids fluttered.
He looked down at the card while his hand trembled slightly.
“Uncle ...... This is?”
“Don't pretend.” Victor laughed softly, but the smile was chilling, “The shock you just felt was written all over your face.”
The corner of Bruce's mouth twitched and he let out a dry laugh, “Ha...... sometimes I really think if you've learned to read minds.”
“Cut the crap.” Victor rubbed out his cigarette and his eyes sank, “The plan is ahead of schedule, Bruce, you need to be ready.”
Bruce's eyes stared slightly.
“A three year engagement?” He repeated in a low voice, “You mean, the crime lab in Z House ......”
Victor nodded, “Yes. The original plan was March 2006, but now it's been moved up by six months. They're starting to prioritize insiders, and you - my nephew - are the perfect candidate.”
Bruce took a deep breath and looked at the card on the coffee table, a struggle and resignation in his eyes.
“So what exactly is the secret I'm ...... going to find out when I go in?”
Victor didn't answer immediately.
He stood up and walked to the door, seeming to reminisce.
“It was a chance to change the world.” He paused, “You'll find out when you get inside.”
He turned around, his expression steeped in oddness.
“Right.” He looked like he remembered something, “Tonight, it's the once in thirty years blood moon.”
Bruce subconsciously nodded, “It was on the news.”
“Not an ordinary celestial phenomenon.” Victor's tone became low, word for word, “It was a gift from God. Tonight, no matter what - you, must bathe in the light of that blood-colored moon!”
As he spoke, his eyes suddenly changed.
In Bruce's gaze, those brown eyes, like ink, spread out a lurid line of blood.
An eerie chill climbed up Bruce's spine.
“Are you ...... you human or not?” He murmured, looking at Victor's back as he turned to leave.
The only thing left of the apartment was the broken lock on the door rattling lightly.
Bruce sat back down on the couch paralyzed, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
His heart was beating like a drum and a cold sweat broke out on his back.
In that moment, he remembered the cold, clammy hands of that dark night in his childhood-
And now Victor, more than that hand, was even more terrifying.
“There are some things ...... that really can't be explained by humans.”
He murmured, as if he could already hear, the whisper of the rising blood moon.
*****
Author’s Note:
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