The Tag Relic

[donteatpoop]

Untitled


The couple walked through the park under the clear sky filled with stars. They seem happy, he thought. It made him sick. He let out a deep breath that fogged in the night air, briefly blocking his view of the pair.

He had been watching the couple for a few days now, following them on their nightly strolls. Sometimes they just talked during the strolls, other times things got more interesting; lips locks, passionate embraces, make-out sessions, and the like.

He knew the course they would take through the park, along the lakeside and to down to the beach under the bridge where they would smoke a joint before turning back and taking the same path home.

As he followed them at a safe distance he still dwelled on how they could be happy in this shitty hate filled world and hissed to himself.

“Aren’t they fucking aware of how it’s all so goddamn futile? People that blissfully idiotic shouldn’t be allowed to exist. I’ll be doing them a fucking favor.”

He clutched his combat knife tightly in anticipation.

“Yes. Tonight. By the bridge. While they’re smoking their joint and pontificating about shit that doesn’t matter, then I’ll show them what does matter.”

He was at war and these two were going to be the first casualties…

But tonight fate had other intentions. Instead of dawdling along their usual path that wove its way from one boring landmark to the next, the couple decided to take a detour.
This frustrated him to no end. He had orchestrated everything so perfectly in his mind! He was an artist. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. THEY WERE RUINING IT!
Tracking them became harder now, and more tedious. Where were they going!? Didn’t they realize they were only prolonging their own suffering!? As his rage mounted, he grew more reckless.

After staring after them in disbelief for a few moments while they took to a wooded path, he let out a frustrated breath and jogged to catch up with him. Twigs broke under foot, his shoes scuffed and scraped at the dirt path as he charged towards the couple with a white knuckled grip on the knife hilt.

He plunged into the darkness of the path, tree branches over head blocking out the pale light of the moon. Something glistened in what little light got through. He stopped in his tracks to see the couple staring back at him, the barrels of guns pointing at him.

Who sent you, you rat-faced, pig?" the man snarled, obviously not used to doling out insults. The woman, eyes darting from side to side as if making sure no one was watching the fracas, seemed nervous.



"I, um, wanted to see some boobies," the stalker surreptitiously replied, deftly hiding the knife behind his back. "Sorry... I know I have a problem. My shrink says so... please don't call the cops."

The awkward silence that now permeated the air was palpable. By introducing an entirely unthought-of line of thinking, he had done exactly what he meant to do... make the couple with the guns pause.

“Alright,” the man finally yielded. “Go ahead, hon. Show him your tits.”
The girl stared at her boyfriend in utter disbelief. “What!?”
“C’mon, hon,” the man drove on. “Just flash him your boobies real quick, that’s all. What’s the big deal?”
The girl just stood there, silently brooding. “I can’t believe you’d actually say something like that,” she said after a lengthy and oppressive silence.
The stalker started blushing profusely. “It’s not that big of a deal, I’ll let you folks get back...”
But the man kept his gun leveled on the stalker. “Don’t you go anywhere until she shows you her tits,” he told him.
“I’m not showing this degenerate my fucking tits!”

“Bitch, you’ll fucking show him your tits while singing On Top of Old Smokey if I tell you to!”

While the couple engaged in their bizarre argument, the stalker was reminded of his parents and how they used to argue in front of him like he wasn’t even there.

This made him very sad when he was a child. Why couldn’t they have just stayed together and loved him?

His sadness turned to anger as the couple continued to bicker. Maybe he couldn’t stop his parents, but he COULD stop these two.

He whipped his knife back out from behind his back and stepped silently behind the young lady. Smooth as silk, his hand came forward and slid the blade of his knife across her throat. Before the young man could react, the knife was flying blade over hilt at him, landing in his chest and dropping him to the ground. A moment later the killer was upon him, stabbing him over and over with the gore covered knife. The silence of the dark wood was suddenly shattered by the dying man’s screams of terror.

* * *

His name was Albert Cole. He was sent to locate two of Don Timo’s missing gangsters. He was a man of few words, and even fewer friends. That’s why the Don liked to hire him for such undertakings. That, and the fact that he got the job done.
He always got the job done.
He sat by his lonesome this dreary, overcast morning in the lobby of a Dunkin ‘Donuts right off the bustling interstate near Trenton, New Jersey. He took a sip of his burnt coffee and read over the latest headlines.
More of the same, he mused. Oil prices jacked up, crooked politicians passing laws that favor Big Business but royally screw the little guy, the Middle East continuing it’s downward spiral to Hell.

Just then his cell phone rang.

“Hello? What? No, you got the wrong number. Idiot.”

***

[donteatpoop]

Adam ran home as fast as he could, he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

When he arrived he slammed the door and locked it, still breathing hard he stumbled into his bathroom and looked into the mirror; blood was all over him. On his clothes, on his face and on the knife he was still holding.

“I did it. I actually did it…and I can do it again! I’m FREE!”

Adam began to roll on the floor laughing, he felt vindicated.

Suddenly there was a knock on his door.

Adam's heart lurched. His face blanched and his mouth dried. His brain whizzed around insanely for a second, trying to think properly, but failing.

He jumped up and pulled his t-shirt up over his head, undid his belt and yanked down his black jeans all in one swift, fluid movement. His hands reached out for the taps and he spun them on, knocking the plug into the hole at the same time. A flannel sitting on the side of the bath was lifted up and plunged into the water, which he then washed all the blood off his hands, chest, stomach, face, legs, and a bit off his hair with. The knocking continued.

As he scrubbed at his body he heard the knocking cease and in place of it the creak of the door swinging open. He were sure he had locked the damn thing. After quickly throwing a towel around him, he stepped out of the bathroom and walked into his living room, praying the police were not waiting for him.

Mrs. Smitworth, the landlady, was standing in his living room and staring at him in disgust.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked her.

"I came to remind you that your rent was due last week," she replies.

"Right," He responded nervously; "Sorry about that."

“Sorry? That’s your excuse for everything! When you were playing your awful music loudly waking everyone one up, your answer was sorry! Sorry isn’t a catch all band aid for your inconsiderate and deadbeat nature! And do you ever clean this place?”
“I’ve been uh…busy.”
“Too busy to pay your fucking rent?”
“Look, okay I got the money, just let me go get it.”

Adam walked off into his bedroom, while Mrs. Smitworth waited. After five minutes she was tired of waiting and stormed into Adam’s bedroom.

“Adam you better…oh…my…god…”

A grinning painted face was the last thing she saw.

***
Albert Cole pulled his black Cadillac Escalade into the remote parking lot and shut off the ignition. Timing was important right now. He had to find the two missing assholes before the cops got wind of anything.
They had never been worth a shit in Albert’s eyes. Just a couple of doped losers who got where they were because of nepotism. The Don seemed to think something fishy was going on, but not Albert. In all likelihood they had merely been too stoned to remember their appointment. Timo shouldn’t have entrusted them with so much responsibility. He let out an exasperated sigh and exited the vehicle.

He was in the park not far from the Don's nephews house. They reportedly frequented this park in their midnight excursions.

He had already been to their apartment, but no one would answer the door. After breaking into their apartment he found nothing amiss, not a thing out of place. Everything was appeared to be where it should be. The TV was still playing, which lead Mr. Cole to thinking that they had intended on returning soon. But they never did return.

He checked his watch as walked to the hiking trails; it read 9:00AM. This was the path they supposedly took every night, maybe he would find something that would lead him to them.

Quickening his pace, he started along the path. He didn't want to spend too much time on this, there were other things to do. The path worked its way along beside the pond, then down underneath a bridge. Albert followed it, feeling slightly irritated. Nothing yet. He continued along, quickening slightly, and started whistling to himself. When he reached the small beach under the bridge, he had been given no clues at all. Albert sighed. He searched the beach for a short while, before turning back around and heading down the path once again. What would he say to the Don?

As Albert tried to figure out how to explain this to the Don, he felt a tap on the back of knee. He turned around and saw a grubby little boy.

“Hey Mister you got a dollar?”
“A dollar? What the hell, your mama not make enough at the whorehouse yesterday? Go fuck a duck kid!”
“Fuck you Mister!”

The little boy then kicked Albert in the shin and ran off. After screaming more curse words at the urchin, Albert was in a sufficiently foul mood especially after not finding the Don’s duo. He decided to go get a drink.

[donteatpoop]

***
Two boys stood over the mutilated bodies they had found in the woods in an awe-struck trance.
“You double dare me?” said one boy to the other. He was the chubbier of the two.

“I double dog dare you,” replied his gangly little partner.
The fat boy took a deep breath, took a step forward, and poked the corpse of the young woman with a stick, causing her to roll over and expose her grizzly neck wound.

“AHHHHH!!!!!!!” they both screamed in unison. They fled the scene on their bikes, and never looked back.
The woman, meanwhile, lay there in her silent pose, her lifeless eyes starring into the sky.

The boys rode hurriedly past a man in a sports coat in the middle of the woods. Normally they would take note of the unusual presence, but they were too full of fear to care.

It was as Albert walked back to his car that he caught the scent of decay in the air. Was this the couple? he wondered. He was more inclined to believe that they skipped town on some sort of hippy impulse, but checking into any possible leads when working for the Don was not an option. Albert Cole hadn't made it this far without being thorough.

***

Adam, rocked himself back and forth naked holding Mrs. Smitworth’s bloody head.

”You’re really sick you know that Adam?”

“I didn’t mean it…why do I do these things? I had to…oh mommy mommy…I’m no good. I’ll be good boy…”

”You need to do it again Adam.”

“I can’t stop…the voices…NO!”

”Do it again Adam. Don’t you want me to love you?”

“Stop! You’re not really here!”

”Of course I’m here Adam. We’re always here. Always. Do it again. Please?”

“Leave me alone I just want to die!”

DO IT NOW ADAM!

Adam screamed in torment until he passed out.

He awoke a few minutes later feeling refreshed and revitalized. Sometimes the voices drove him mad, but deep down he knew they were right. He needed to do it again.
“Do you feel better now, Adam?”

“Yes.”
“Good. Now look at what you did to Mrs. Smitworth. Isn’t it lovely, Adam? You’re an artist.”

Adam blushed. “Ah, shucks...”
“Don’t me modest. You’ve got talent.”

Adam shrugged. Some people just had the gift, he supposed. “But I don’t know what to do next.”
“Of course you do, Adam. Don’t be difficult.”

“But it’s all happening so fast.”
“Now’s not the time for excuses, Adam. Now is the time to shed blood.”

***

Albert had been walking around the park for nearly 20 minutes, and still hadn't found anything. The scent was getting stronger, however. Must be getting close, he thought.

He reached into a pocket on the inside of his jacket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Shaking one from the packet, he pulled it out with his lips, and lit it with a cheap clear plastic lighter. Smoke blew from his lips in a tight stream. Goddamn, that's refreshing.

Albert noticed a dusty path up ahead, leading off into a wooded area. He turned into it. The trees overhead blocked out just about all light, so most of the path was too dark to make anything out.

Albert adjusted his eyes to the darkness as he walked down the path.

The darkness reminded him of when his mother used to lock him in a very small closet when he misbehaved as a little boy. She also told him that monsters would eat him if he made another noise. It worked, but he never held malice against his mother for it. If anything it influenced him to become an expert in silent matters later on in life, which is probably why he excelled in his chosen line of work.

Just then he saw a shape on the ground. It was a dark shape at the edge of the trail. The scent of death became more concentrated in this area. He approached the object with caution.

It was a shoe. Not far from it was a body, the girl, stripped down naked and covered in blood and ejaculates. Who ever did this had some serious issues, Albert decided.

The body couldn't have been dead for more than half a day, but Albert was a superhuman badass mother fucking mobster mother fucker who could detect even immediate death through his hightened senses. It's one of the many reasons he excelled as a killer in Don Timo's mafioso.

An unexpected thing happened then; Albert felt pity for the poor broad. He’d seen his fair share of corpses over the years, but they usually belonged to scum bags who deserved what they got.
He tossed aside his cigarette butt and leaned in to examine the body. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a photograph, then compared it to the body. He shuddered. It was her alright. Somebody was going to pay for this.

Had Timo’s nephew met a similar demise? He needed to find the body before the police did. The man had something very important on him that must not get into the hands of the authorities.

Albert’s attention was then drawn to a similar figure lying not to far away. It was the nephew, or what was left of it, the face and chest had been stabbed repeatedly.

Albert didn’t even care that the nephew was dead, he was just interested in getting that object; he just hoped it was still on his body.

***

Adam studied the object that he took off the man’s body last night. It fell out his jacket as he futilely struggled. Adam wouldn’t have bothered normally, but it was so shiny and it seemed to call to him.

So shiny…

The object was quite small in his hands, but weighty. It felt fragile, reassuringly precious. Cirular in shape, it was a small gold ring, with a large clear-coloured jewel, a diamond, sitting at the top like the Queen on her throne.

[donteatpoop]

***

Don Timo sat alone in his house, staring at the TV but not actually watching it. He was waiting. It was almost 10pm, and he hadn't heard from Albert. Timo was starting to worry. It shouldn't be taking this long. Something was definetly wrong.

Just then, the phone rang. Timo, being a paranoid man, checked the caller ID before picking up the phone. His face lit up when he realized who it was and he immediately answered the phone. “Give me some good news,” he said bluntly, setting aside all the regular formalities.
“Good is a relative term,” came Albert’s allusive response. “But I’ll cut the bullshit. All I got’s bad news. Which news do you want first? The bad news, or the bad news?”
“Did you find my nephew!?”
“What was left of him.”
“And the ring!?”
“Gone.”
“We’re fucked.”

"Not necessarily"

"I thought you said there wasn't any good news."

"I did. But I doubt he'll know what to do with it."

"Let's hope not. I want you to find whoever did this."

"I intend on it."

"Tonight."

"I need more time."

"No you won't," Don Timo said, casually lighting a cigar, "It's a full moon tonight."

* * *



Albert got off the phone as Timo hung up.

Making sure nobody was around Albert breathed in the air and gave the area a good sniff. Surely whoever killed these two would definitely leave a scent of some kind, everybody does.

This was odd though; there was a very distinct scent. One he hadn’t smelled in years. He couldn’t believe it, he had to double check.

There was no mistake. It was him.

“Shit Adam, what the hell have you gotten yourself into…you really fucked up this time…(Sigh) can’t do it though…I promised Mom I’d look out for you.”

* * *

Adam sat playing with the ring, passing it from hand to hand. He tried it on, sliding it down the ring finger on his right hand. He looked at it and giggled. Look at me! I'm engaged! His giggles turned into guffaws, and soon he was rolling around, eyes clenched shut and mouth stretched up into a manic grin, laughter pouring out from between his slightly discoloured teeth.

A loud rumbling sound suddenly erupted from somewhere in his apartment, and he stopped laughing. His face went blank, mouth hanging open slightly, and he listened. It was coming from the wall at the other side of his apartment.

He approached the wall with the caution of a small deer investigating a peculiar scent in the air. This wasn't the first time strange noises came from the wall.

Adam stopped a few feet short of the wall. "I thought I killed you," He said as much to himself as the mysterious source of the rumbling. "How many times do I have to kill you?"

The rumbling grew louder as he stood there considering his options. How to kill this thing that would not die, or how to escape. The lights began flickering on and off while the room started to shake. The rumbling grew louder, the tremors more severe.

“Leave me alone! You’re dead!” Adam yelled defiantly at the wall.

”It doesn’t appear to be dead, Adam.”

“Shut up you!”

Adam began picking up objects and tossing them at the wall which now started to pulsate and bleed.

“STOP! YOU’RE DEAD!” Adam screamed and punched the bloody throbbing wall.

Suddenly everything did stop. Everything was back to normal, save for a ring indentation in the wall. Adam looked at his new found piece of jewelry in awe. Never before had he been able to defeat it so quickly before. The ring killed it, and he hoped permanently this time.


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