Death of a Hundred Kisses

The Pair of Origin

The jazz wasn’t effective anymore. The environment was not relaxing enough anymore. How the hell did she come here?

She took a sip from her drink, ‘The song, was actually written by my dad. He was a struggling artist.’

I sighed, ‘I think you know that I wouldn’t ask that.’

She frowned at me, ‘What can I do? You are too hard to predict.’

Why would she predict about me? Was she tailing me?

Man, I am lazy in keeping secrets, ‘Hey, are you tailing me?’

She sighed, ‘Honestly, yes. I know you are digging something. I just don’t know what.’

I looked at her, ‘And you don’t need to.’

I started walking to another side of the bar, that was where I saw Lilith back then. But apparently, she wasn’t there, a bald tall guy instead.

I tried to dig deep, ‘Hey man, can I have some porn vodka?’

The guy startled, ‘Um, you mean porn and vodka? I can give you vodka, but cannot promise you about the porn.’

I laughed, ‘Oh boy, I am sorry. Porn vodka is actually the name of a German vodka.’

He scratched his head in confusion, ‘Well, sorry brother, I don’t have that for you.’

The Italian accent, it was a bad sign. I always notice that. Whenever I went to any non-local places, and somehow, I ended up with a white supremacy, the locals would be disappointed every time. And eventually, they would use local accent to mock that supremacy. Exactly that happened here.

No matter how offended I felt, I had to get information, ‘So, doesn’t Lilith work here?’

He didn’t drop his accent, ‘Who?’

I knew he didn’t mean that. So, I grabbed a fifty-euro bill. shook his hands, ‘Lilith, dark hair, maybe in her 30s, does that ring a bell?’

It surely did, nobody would say no to euro in Italy, ‘Yeah, I remember. She works at the back now.’

No accent. Money makes every old pain disappear, why should we have doctors?

I could feel Micah lurking behind me the whole time. I assumed she heard all of that.

I turned behind to see her a bit disappointed, ‘I am really sorry. I didn’t know you were here to meet some girl. I didn’t want to ruin this. Sorry.’

I could feel her disappointment. Not because of any hunch failure, something else. But that wasn’t as important as my innocence hunch.

I went to the back side of the bar. It looked like a stinky alley. Italy had lots of them. This country was a mob Manhattan. I still couldn’t understand why people with great mind would live here.

It was quite dark, a long dark evening. I could see some young women standing there, to be picked up by any fancy boys. Well, job as an escort wasn’t a thing for amateurs.

I tried to look Lilith in the darkness. Suddenly I saw a ring shining.

‘Hello there, I heard you were looking for me, lad', that really sounded like Lilith.

I looked in the right. I could just see a silhouette, standing there, trying to be a silhouette to his customer.

Before I could see anything, she asked, ‘For how long? I need to come back before seven. So let's pull an all-nighter. Just never give a look at my face, my ass will be enough for you.’

I wasn't liking the way it was going, ‘Lilith, it's me, Lazarus.’

She stood there for half a minute, unmoved. What was wrong with her face, she wasn’t like with this type of shyness before.

I started walking towards her, ‘Lilith, listen, I-'

She suddenly screamed at me, ‘No, Lazio, please, no. Don’t come here.’

I was surprised. What the hell had gotten into her?

She screamed like hell, ‘Just, just be far from me, further I can't imagine. Maybe in some life we would chat together over beer. But you know, I am beneath you, and hands are pulling me down.’

I couldn’t say anything, the silhouette was fading away, and I was there, like a silhouette with a face of violence written all over me.

The taxi back home was the only comfortable time for me outside the hotel, the guy maybe was fabulous, I didn’t notice. I had no attention around.

Mazzio was peacefully sitting in his job chair, waiting idly for any new dweller. He stood up to greet me, ‘A wealthy evening to you, sir.’

I had no intention to chat, ‘Give me the keys and find Ranko. Tell that son of a b***h to face me if he has the courage.’

I was all worked up. Was it bad? I didn’t think so. It was justified. It was the roar of a year-old scar.

I went to my suite, to surprisingly discover Ranko in my room. And clearly the furiousness grew a bit long. I reached up to him and grabbed his neck, ‘You wanna play it nasty, Ranko?’

He quickly responded, ‘I am sorry again, sir. But I followed your order to pull out myself from new. I was here to-'

I screamed like hell, ‘As if I give a f**k about you following me? What did you do to Lilith?’

His face turned pale, immediately. He was unexpectedly startled, ‘H-How did you-'

I had no patience to hear his babbling. I went straight to grab his collar, ‘How dare you f**k with me! You knew how close she was to me, how she trusted me, how she gave me joy. She was a sister to me, a goddamn sister.’

I was in the angriest form of my entire life. He was too terrified to reply.

I looked into his eyes, with anger, too much anger. I didn’t want to hear anything, ‘You motherfucker, I expected anybody but you. And even after everything you have the audacity to be my bookkeeper. Well, be my guest.’

I grabbed the closest thing I could to vent my anger, a clicking pen. And in a slight moment of vague judgement, I stabbed the pen in his right eye, pushing it downwards.

It wasn't so sudden; I could easily pull my hand to prevent that. But I didn’t, I didn’t want to. I wanted to shove it down for a bit more, but I wasn’t comfortable with hot blood spilling from everywhere.

He wasn’t expecting me to be violent. Nobody could. He was screaming in pain, in fear. I couldn’t care less. I had no regret whatsoever. How worse could her wound be? She never hidden anything from me. And now, she was hiding herself, herself from her brother. How cursed could she feel herself?

I kept the pen inside him, wiped my hands with a hand towel and started walking out. He was groaning in pain, kneeling down to the floor. I could see him in this pain forever. Nobody could mess with the little things I had in my life and get away with it.

I coughed to clear my voice, ‘Wipe yourself, go to a hospital, and take the next flight back home. I would rather spare your other eye for that.’

I convinced myself silently, ‘He deserves that, he screwed with you. He should have seen this coming three years ago. It’s not about ethics, it’s justice. He now will regret, and so will the bastard killer. Nobody can escape after messing things up.’

I saw Mazzio down the hall, ‘Hey Mazzio, call a doctor. Ranko suffered a fatal injury. I'll be out for the night.’

Mazzio couldn’t say anything. He knew I was f****d up the moment he saw me enter the hotel. He was prepared for something unexpected.

I went out, I had to. I had to switch my gears to another thing. I needed to have a distraction. Maybe a grumpy racist bartender and some Italian drinks would do good.

I had to go back to the Moraleta. I kept my eyes on the roads, the crowd. I didn’t want to face Lilith; she wouldn’t want that. I didn’t want to ruin her life anymore. I just wanted her to be happy. She wasn’t a girl to be in selling body for a paycheck. She used to hold her honor as like I held my ethics. How much did she have to suffer to deny that? Did I lose my ethics too?

It wasn’t time to be judge myself. I needed to free myself. I entered the bar in a hustle. People were drunk all over. They were throwing their wallets to the strippers; it was really awkward. I went to the stools.

I saw Micah sitting there. The smell of Charbonnay wine was roaming all around her. It was really weird to even go near her. But I did it anyway, ‘Hello agent Micah, enjoying the Italian exquisite?’

She burped and laughed, ‘Ah, Lazarus, well to be honest, it isn’t Italian really. It is a French wine with a really weird taste. But, works like a distraction.’

Damn, she got drunk by Charbonnay? That would end up in a very sad hangover. But what was she trying to avoid? Distraction from what? Never mind, I could also dive in some Charbonnay action maybe.

I ordered a glass of Charbonnay, and sat beside her. She had a weird gloomy vibe. Something was off, and I could feel it. But should I? No, that was maybe just some weird emphasizing of my own despair. She maybe just had a rough night.

She looked at me, ‘How was Lilith? Okay?’

That was not a distraction for me. I didn’t want to talk about it, ‘Well, not up to expectations, but okay.’

She grinned awkwardly, ‘I thought you would knock her up the whole night. Was the charge too high?’

The f**k she was talking about? Or was it the drinks?

Before I could get over the awkwardness, she dropped another bomb, ‘Did you kill Abiel?’

That was escalating too quickly. I needed to change the subject.

The bartender handed me a note all of a sudden. I was confused.

He nodded, ‘A courtesy from Mr. Fabiazzo.’

All I could hear was the name. Fabiazzo, Mr. Durante Alex Fabiazzo.