Sublime Confrontation
Paramortis: A Divine Tragedy
Chapter II
Sublime Confrontation
Saturday, 31st October
Several Years Later
18:58
Holding the cleaning cart on its back wheels, the janitor eyed the dark figure skulking across the open space of the long forgotten reception foyer. “You’re HyeMi’s neighbour.” The addressed barely paused. Peeking out from under the hood of the dark sweater, the silent man who was short in stature merely shrugged. “When will she be back?” The cleaner asked, but the weirdo merely shrugged again and scampered off to the right and down the short corridor leading to the back exit.
In almost the same instance that the creeper had vanished, one of the murky, main glass doors burst open. Taking the motorbike helmet off of her head, a wealth of thick crimson spilled out over the shoulders of the drenched leather jacket. Both the woman, and the cleaner, halted in their step to spare each other a surprised look before relaxing.
Helmet resting on her left forearm, the woman opened one of the many mailboxes lined against the right wall. Collecting the few letters and leaflets from the slot, she kept glaring over at the man not too much older than her. In her eighteen months or so living in the block, she’d only ever seen him a handful of times, but she’d never seen a guy cart around trash so happily as when she saw him. There was something off about the man. It took a lot to unnerve her, but there was something definitely strange about him.
He, however, couldn’t forget that striking figure or the bright red hair. “Miss Shin, the boss is waiting for your rent.” The low, nasally tone carried across the musky ecru space like a bluster whistling through a mountain range.
“Don’t ask me about it now. I’ll sort it out soon.” When the redhead said that, the strange brunette scuttled off around the counter and through the door that led into what she presumed to be some kind of office or filing room.
Making sure she was alone, the redhead – Shin KiSe - made for the fire stairs. Darkness already settling in over an hour ago, the woman held her belongings in her left hand as she sprinted up the concrete steps two, sometimes three, at a time. Making it to the fourth floor in less than a minute, she pushed through the safety door without stopping. Skipping straight out into the flickering yellow hallway filled with the stench of damp and the sound of indiscernible arguing, the Amazonian turned right and strut towards her apartment.
Fishing out the chain tucked into her right trouser pocket and attached to her belt hoop, the redhead unflicked the clip, releasing her wallet and a ring keys. Slotting the house key into the old fashioned standard lock, and then a different one into a newer, self-installed lock, KiSe pushed the door open with her boot. Taking her keys back, the woman used her rear to push the barrier open even further.
Hit by a wall of frigid air filled with the scent of cinnamon, KiSe stepped inside and knocked the door shut with her hip. Chucking her wallet and keys across the space onto the navy sofa with its back to her. Bending down and ping the heeled boots, she kicked her day’s hindrance to the side. Breathing a sigh of relief, and actually enjoying the icy hardwood soothing the burn in her soles as she wandered, the woman made a B-Line for the fridge. Pulling open the door of the new appliance, the apartment owner took out a small plate. Removing the plastic film from the leftovers, she shoved it in the microwave and hit three minutes.
ping her jacket, she fought to remove the article sticking to her skin. After some tugging and angry grunting, the leather was thrown to the floor with a slam. White vest soaked through to her bra, the redhead yanked the cloth over her head and chucked it with her jacket. Microwave beeping, she put off removing the rest of her clothes for the moment.
Undoing the button and zip of her leather pants, she squeaked towards the kitchen area. Taking the plate from the fake oven, she burnt her fingers on the dish. Hissing a curse, she went back in with a quick strike, pulling her first meal since seven that morning out onto the counter with a growl. Nudging the dish across and out of the way with varying parts of her hands, she backhanded the microwave door shut. Taking a fork off the draining board next to the sink, the redhead dug into the pasta bake with a side of spicy wings.
Shovelling down a few mouthfuls, KiSe wiped her hand on a dish towel and then flunk it aside. Chicken wing hanging out of , she advanced for the bathroom. Squirming around the awkward placement of the door and the towel rail, she slid through with yet another scratch across the back of her waist. “I’m going to destroy you.” She mumbled to herself. It was the same threat she made every time she entered the room, but she still hadn’t got around to taking the damn thing down. She’d rather hang her towels over the sink or bath than be violated every day.
Prodding the new white box fixed to the wall, water sprayed from the power shower. Tearing the meat from the bone held between her fingers, the woman chucked the remnants into the waste bin beside the toilet and went about taking off the rest of her clothes. Hearing her text tone from the next room, she unhooked the robe from the back of the door and slipped her arms through.
Used to the arctic temperatures of the apartment, the redhead strut straight across the space with the white towelling billowing open away from her curves. Picking up her lifeline, she prodded in her pin code and then read the message. Thankfully, it wasn’t another job. Tapping away madly, the woman sent her reply and then dropped the device back where she had thrown it earlier before returning to the bathroom.
Crouched in front the last room in the dark hallway, light flickering above the apartment two doors down, a full-figured blonde held a long pin in as two others were played like marionettes between either hand. Picking the standard latch, paying no mind to her surroundings, the woman cracked the lock in a few seconds. Opening the door slowly for prior knowledge of the home owner, she was suddenly distracted by the only way up opening.
Turning her head to the right, she stared down a tall brunette with two carrier bags in his hands and a laptop bag hung over his shoulder. The man looked away as soon as he noticed the thug was side-glowering back at him but continued walking up towards her. Stopping at the door right across from the woman, the occupant unlocked his own abode only to pause and stare at her.
Straightening up, the blonde grabbed her stuff and too, turned around to stare at the man, although she came off as a lot more confrontational. “Do you have a in’ problem?” Her tone was sharp and gritty, as if she hadn't spoke in a long while.
“Somebody lives there.” The man in B43 whispered, apparently unnerved by the harsh tone.
Nodding upwards, the woman shoved her heel back to stop the barrier she’d just unlocked from closing again. “What do you know about her?”
“Nothing I’m willing to tell you.”
Immediately enraged by the cool remark, the blonde bared her teeth and jutted her thumb behind her. “My sister lives here. I’ve not heard from her in a couple of weeks.”
“Perhaps she doesn’t want to talk to people who can break into places in under thirty seconds.”
“Perhaps, but she was damn glad when I broke the teeth of guys who tried to interfere with her.”
“Maybe you’re too overprotective: she may have loved one of the men you broke the teeth of.”
“Maybe you should stop running me ‘round with riddles and tell me if you’ve seen her recently before I really lose my temper.”
“A tall girl, brown hair,” He gestured his hand just below his eye level. “Glamourous body and sparkly dresses?”
Ignoring one or two points which could have changed in years they hadn’t seen each other in person, the blonde nodded. “She had a scar down the centre of her chest, and a tiny black birthmark beneath her right lower lip.”
“I just moved here two months ago; I’ve only spoke to her in passing.” He held his hands up briefly. “She’s a polite woman, which is more than can be said for the rest of the people who live here.”
“Please tell me whatever you can. When did you last see her?” Overly made up features crinkled in worry. “Was there anyone who called around that you remember, any commotions?”
Realizing that she wasn’t some kind of drug dealer or pimp searching out a runaway, the soft featured man relaxed his stance. Club music suddenly blearing louder than before, the blonde dropped her holdall in the doorway of B44. Advancing with a crease between her brows, the tall woman held her hands up in submission. “Please help me. She’s all I have.”
Looking right down the epileptic fit-inducing flash of the hallway lights filling with a group from five doors down, the man backed into his apartment. Stopping in the foyer, he gestured for the woman to come inside. Disregarding taking the steel-toe-capped boots off, the female did as she was aked and stared at the stranger with intensity. Placing his bags just around the corner, the brunette returned to face the woman.
“There had been some shouting from across the way for three weeks or so which started around a month ago - but it just sounded like her. Before and after that, there was nothing.” He held his hands and shook his head in perplexity “I saw her for the last time around a week ago. I tried to say hello, but she acted like she didn’t even see me: she looked sick.”
Eyes drifting down in thought, she tried to put the pieces together. Catching the fancy sideboard to her left, and then the computer set up behind him, she made a mental note. Not wanting to scare him off with her findings, she kept shut. Reaching out slowly, she took a pen from the pot on the slim counter to the left wall and scribbled her name, phone number, and email address down on the post-it pad. “Thanks for the help. Please call me if you see or hear anything else.” Replacing the lid of the pen, she popped it back in the holder. “I’ll be staying just across the way, in HyeMi’s apartment.” That being said, the blonde inclined her head and walked across the five-foot-wide hallway. “My name’s HaeWon.” Turning around in the doorway, she inclined her head again as the man did the same and shut his door behind him.
Picking up her stuff, HaeWon slipped around the barrier and locked the latch. Turning to face the sitting room, she held the back of her wrist against her nose.
The place was pungent with damp, worn clothes, and a stink she wished she didn’t know. Stepping over the mess, the blonde scouted the space for any sign of recent life. Kicking over empty designer boxes and pans which had been dragged out in the search, the intruder turned her attention to the kitchen. Pulling open the first drawer she came to, then the second, the blonde found a roll of bin liners. Pulling one off the roll with a clear crack, she scraped everything off the main counter: the frying pan, unwashed plates, take-out cartons, and alcohol bottles.
Muscles twisting under the scent of booze, the blonde turned away with grit teeth.
Updated: 16th October 2015 - 04:01
Comments