Downward Spiral
Just something that's been kicking around in my head for who knows how long. Might make it a full blown story, might not. Feels good to be writing again, that's all I know.
It had been a long time since someone had looked at me with any kind of goodwill in their eyes. Almost certain I wouldn't know a compliment if one came up and slapped me as hard as it could in the face. Not that I minded, par the course when you did the tango with cynicism and booze fueled rage on the daily. I unlocked the door to my shitty apartment, the heavy bass of Diego's speakers spilling through the paper thin walls. One day, I was gonna throw the kid's stereo system out the fucking window, but for the moment, it was a minor nuisance that I could add to the blights in my life.
Stepping through the cracked doorway and onto the ratty carpet, I kicked the door shut forcefully, listening to the doorknob rattle around on its single screw. I tossed my backpack down on the floor next to the kitchen entryway and threw on a light, listening to the depressing hum of fluorescent tube lighting above my head. Making a beeline for the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of King's Standard from the back, sifting through the half finished crates of takeout before grabbing one that looked edible.
"Why hello beautiful. Miss me?" I mumbled as I grabbed one of the only clean dishes I owned and tossed the half-eaten chow-mein in the microwave before knocking back my fourth brew of the night. See, alcohol followed me around like a lovesick puppy and I was all to happy to feed it and give it shelter every night after work. Let it not be said I was nothing if not grateful for a stiff drink at the end of the day to numb the pain of judgements unspoken and shitty dock workers.
I nursed my bottle of King's Standard close to my lips, that god awful racket next door pounding on my frayed nerves like jackhammers on wire, and listened to the annoying hum above my head droning on and on and on. Glancing at the bottle in my hand, I actually couldn't remember which bottle I was on; was this my fourth or fifth? Did it matter? I tipped it back all the same, the burn long since done affecting my dead tongue. I set the empty glass aside and grabbed another before grabbing my food and stumbling out of the kitchen. Nearly tripped over a fucking chair I must've thrown around. A laugh bubbled out of my throat as I slumped onto the couch, the darkness of my 'living room' a welcome comfort from the rain that was drenching the city outside.
"You did it, Vergil. Welcome back to the bottom," I grumbled as I groped clumsily at the bandages around my right eye, fingers slipping and falling into my lap. Stabbing my food viciously, I ate in sullen silence, well, as silent as you could get with a metal head as a neighbor, but you get the point. Food gone, I slammed back half the bottle and held my vice up to the ceiling, a sneer painting my face. "Hope you're fuckin' happy, Red! You won! I'm in the fuckin' gutter! Here's to you, ya goddamn bitch!"
Someone pounded on my wall, almost couldn't tell *which* for a moment, and I blearily looked up at the sound. "Shut the fuck up, ya goddamned puffball, 'fore I come over there and cut off one of yer feet fer good luck!"
"Pfft, shut up -hic- yah fuckin' college dropout!" I snarled back before hammering my fist on my wall at my neighbor.
"The fuck ya say to me, ya useless fur!?"
I snorted and drained my last drops of blessed medicine before smashing the bottle against the wall. "See! That's why you dropped out! Can't. Fucking. Listen!" I heard a rush of movement on the other side of the wall and the slamming of a door before a godawful racket came down on mine.
"Ya little furry bitch, get the fuck out here so I can kick your ass!" I blew a raspberry at him and laughed as I got up for my fifth, going with fifth, bottle of King. "Ya little shit! I'mma break yer fuckin' neck!"
"Yeah, cause No Dick Finnigan could break my neck," I snarked while I kicked the refrigerator door shut. Just as I lowered the capped head to the dingy counter to smack it open, my door made a horrific cracking sound as it was kicked in, leaving a dent in the wall as it slammed home.
"Knock, knock, cunt!" snarled Larry as he rounded the corner, fury blazing in his baby blues. For his troubles he caught my bottle of booze to the face. Made a nice tinkling sound as it shattered across his face.
"Who's there, cocksnot?" I growled as I looked around for my drink. Realizing where it was, currently all over Larry's open cuts, I threw my arms up in exasperation. "Of fucking course!"
"Argh, you cock sucking shite! I'mma kill ya! Ya hear me! I'm gonna fuckin' rip those floppy thin's ya call ears off an' fuck the hole tha's lef' ovah!" screamed the bleeding Irishman while he writhed on my carpet, clutching at his face.
I narrowed my gaze at him and crossed the distance quickly before grabbing the front of his grubby work shirt. It said 'Sal's Butchery' on it, but I could give two shits what the bloody rag said. I hauled him up and smacked his hands away to assess the damage the bottle had done to his face. Glass was dug deep into his flabby cheeks and the alcohol was dripping down his face in a mixture of amber and crimson. Reaching up, I touched a shard of glass and wiggled it slowly, watching his eyes light up in pain as I tortuously pushed it inward. "We're going to have fun together, Finny boy. And you owe me a crate of KS, shit for brains." I patted his cheek gently and dragged him to his feet before throwing him into my refrigerator. "Now, what were you planning on doing with my floppy ears? Remind me, I'm a little drunk."
Finnigan groaned as I slammed my palm into the cold metal of the cheap fridge, glaring daggers up at me as I returned the sentiment. "I said I was gonna rip off yer fuckin' ears and jizz down the fuckahhh!" he cried out as my fist found its way into his side, aimed for his ribcage.
"Ahhh, that's right. Thank you, Finn! I needed my memory jogged." I grabbed a fistful of that red mess of hair and smashed his head against the unforgiving door. "But you know what? I don't think I take kindly that kind of threat."
"Ya fuckin' cock! When word gets -ah!- gets out that ya did this to me, yer fuckin' dead!" snarled the Irishman. A smile crept across my lips as he started spouting off about how his Mob friends were going to whore me out where the sun don't shine, how he was going to personally make me choke on his dick every night.
"Not to ruin that wonderful tirade of yours, friend, really, but how are your friends in the Mob going to know I beat you up if I kill you in this apartment?" That shut him up real quick and he just stared open mouthed at me. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I would fucking love to see you try and force me to suck whatever sad excuse of a penis you have between your fat thighs, but we both know that's not going to happen. So, for arguments sake, let's say I don't take a steak knife to your fucking jugular right after I let you go. What then? Will you overpower me? Throw me onto the counter? Fuck me? Strangle me? Cut my ears off?" I leaned close to his face and watched him flinch away from me. "What will you do when I let go of your hair, you pathetic little shit. Tell me."
I watched his eyes tremble as he tried to think on what would happen and I could hear his knuckles popping as he clenched his fists tightly. Too tightly. "Yer fuckin' crazy..."
"Now you're seeing things my way. But see, we still have a problem." I tugged a little harder on his hair and watched him squirm as I stroked my fingers over his cuts. "You have Mob connections. That's unhealthy for my survival, I'm afraid. So... I'm going to need some insurance from you." What started as a smirk slowly spread into a manic grin as I reached within myself for something I hadn't touched for a long time. "Which means I'm gonna have to force the insurance on you! Better hope the luck of the Irish is with you, fuckwit!"
"What the fuck are ya... What the fuck is that!" screamed Finnigan as my hand began to glow with soft, white flame.
"Insurance, Finny boy!" I laughed before slapping the smoldering palm onto his forehead. "Sleep, motherfucker, sleep!" I imagined the last thing he heard was me cackling like a hyena and it made my heart warm as he slumped in my grip. "You know Finn, I always hated your fucking guts. Waking me up with your fucking friends, kicking my door on the way out, nearly stabbing me that one time. But you know what? I think this more than makes up for it." I slammed his head against the fridge again and smiled as I let him drop to the floor. "Cause I get to know every. Little. Secret. In that ugly little head of yours." I reached down and grabbed a hold of a grimy pant leg and dragged him through as much trash and debris I could on the way to my couch. I especially made him smack into that knocked over chair before 'accidentally' dropping him onto my coffee table.
"Oops, my bad," I snickered as I hefted the dumpy Irishman onto my uncomfortable couch. "Butterfingers, you know? Us useless furs just can't do anything right." Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my 'lucky charms'. And by 'lucky charms' I mean a simple band of silver with a couple of charms hanging from small white gold chains. At least that's what it used to be. Now, the silver was tarnished, the charms scratched and cracked with misuse while the gold was clouded with age. "Ahhh, my old friend. It feels great to have you on my arm again." A visible shudder crawled up my spine as I felt the flow of power complete its circuit after years of lying dormant inside of me.
With a dreamy smile, I straddled Finnigan's hips slowly, charms jangling softly as I dug my fingers into his sweaty hair. "Are you ready, Finn? Oh! Shit, how could I forget? We're gonna need some privacy, won't we?" Lifting my bracelet into the air, the crescent moon flickered and sputtered with a soft, violet light. "Luna Tenaci. Ffffffffuck, that feels gooooood!" I moaned as I slammed my door shut. "Lunam, et Spirítui!" I watched as a nebula of twinkling, swirling energy wrapped around the broken door, not only keeping it shut but preventing it from being opened. Not that anyone would try; no one visited me.
With the prepwork done, I turned my eye back down to my guest and slid my fingers into his hair again. "Now that we're all alone... Time to take a peeky poo at that sick fuckin' brain of yours!" I closed my eye and dug my blunted nails into his scalp, pushing what shattered bits of my will I could scrounge together for this delving spell into my bracelet. "Aenean semper aliquet libero animo..." A soft breeze swirled around the two of us as my magic pressed greedy little tendrils into his mind, hungry for secrets I could use as leverage.
Who would have thought it would have been on the top layer of his consciousness? I smiled as I yanked some choice images of him beating a fur to death. ¨Could be useful if I got their... hello? What's this? Dumbass knew them too? Oh, I know a family of squirrels who are going to be thrilled to know I found their son's killer."
As I delved deeper though, I found some interesting stuff. Like how he frequents a certain skin joint that has a... specialized workforce. I did have a nice laugh when I saw him take a nice hard knot up his ass from some skinny looking German Shepherd. "Add more ammo to the pile. Wonder what that dog's name is... Hey Scarface, what's your alpha's name?"
Finnigan grumbled something under his breath but the mental activity lit up the name like it was some fucking Christmas decoration.
"Donovan, you say? Mayhaps I'll pay him a visit after all this." I decided to push for just a little more, wondering what else I could find when I touched on something juicy. There was a memory, buried beneath thoughts of violence towards my kind and feelings of inadequacy, that made my lips curl into a sinister grin.
"Oh my, Finny, you lovesick pervert you!" I drew my fingers out of his hair and I gave him a none too gentle smack across the face as I climbed off of him. "Wakey, wakey, Clover! We've got some things to discuss."
Finnigan groaned and dragged a hand down his face before he stopped, turning an eye towards me slowly. I could count the emotions going through his mind and when he finally settled on full blown fury, I smiled brightly and tapped my chin, sticking it out for him. It didn't take him even a beat of his heart to flail in a blind rage, but I only had to lean backwards for him to swipe at the air. "No one calls me that! No one!"
"Tsk, tsk. I beg to differ, Finnigan. I happen to know of a certain badger who might be very put off that you consider him a nobody," I snickered as his eyes widened in fear, pure and unadulterated. It was delicious. "That's right... I know all about your precious White Eyes. And just imagine what your so called 'friends' would have to say if someone tipped them off that one of their enforcers was fucking a fur? Probably beat their name out of you, find them and then kill you both... then again, I would make one of you watch as I killed the other, but hey, what do I know, I'm just a useless fur, right?"
Finnigan's posture visibly deflated as I leaned forward with my arms resting on my knees, reveling in his pain. "What do ya want from me?"
"What do I want? That's simple." I reached for his shirt and tugged him forward so that our eyes were level. "If you ever try to fuck with me again, I will kill you, do you understand? And not just kill you, I will drag your beaten and bloodied form in front of this White Eyes of yours and slit your throat to let him watch as you gurgle your last, gasping breaths to him. We on the same fucking page?"
"Yeah... we are."
"Good. Just remember our deal and you bring me that crate of KS and we'll be copasetic. Now get the fuck out of my apartment, Clover." He grimaced as I threw him against the back of my couch, but I had already forgotten of his existence as I climbed to my feet and dispelled the shield around the busted door. "I think I should go take a shower..."