The Madam Of Suburbia Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Taker of Souls

Even though it's part of my business, I've never been a fan of night clubs. They are nothing more than a building filled with fucking annoying college kids popping and smoking whatever while listening to what sounds like shit smeared all over a CD backed by a bass track that makes me want to go homicidal. After you deal with all this bullshit, a damn beer will cost ten dollars so getting drunk is out of the damn question. The more I spend in clubs, the more I appreciate dive bars where the music is nothing more than background noise, and I can get a beer for a buck. However, dive bars aren't willing to pay for my services, so I deal with the cat screams blasting over the speakers and the expensive beer.

As I slowly sip on my ten-dollar beer for the last hour that taste like fucking warm urine, I begin to wonder why I've been summon here. It's been a month since the execution, and I haven't had any orders since then. I've been spending the last month mostly being muscle for Blue's bookie. This town loves to bet, and some people need a friendly reminder to pay back their debts. I thought my purpose was to be a street vendor, but I like being a hired goon. It's nice to knock people's skulls around instead of frying their fucking brains. Besides, dealers are a dime a dozen, and as Blue said, there's ice in my veins. I've been through too much shit to give a fuck anymore that if someone needs a knock upside their head, I'm their man.

As I try to drone out the music that honestly sounds like a bear ass-raping a cat, my phone goes off. I glance down and see I got a text saying to head out back. I finish off my beer to begin making my way through the maze of drugged up bodies tangled like a slinky inside a tornado to get out of the mess. I finally find a lane that leads right to the back door, like Moses himself parted the dance floor. Without chancing it, I jog through the opening before it closes up again, leaving me trapped amongst the sea of tantrix fueled dry humping in perfect rhythm with the shit blaring over the speakers.

I step out the door to find out as usual it's fucking rain. I wait under the awning when a limo pulls up next to me. The passenger door opens, and I get in. As I sit down, I look up and see Blue sitting across from me.

"Hello, James. It's been awhile," Blue says.

"Indeed, Blue," I reply as I shudder at their creepy robotic voice. Even though it's pouring and muggy out there, Blue is once again wearing the all black outfit. I begin to wonder who is behind the biker's helmet. I wonder if Blue and Madam are the same person. Then again, I never want to be in the same room with Madam and Blue. If I do end up with the both of them in the same place, I hope it's to end my life quickly as possible. There’s no fucking way I can handle that much disturbance at once without wanting to put a bullet in my head myself.

"I got a special mission for you," Blue states as they hand me an envelope.

I open the envelope, and find a single key with an address on the paper.

"We need you to be very discreet, and needs to be done tonight," Blue explains.

"Sure thing," I reply as I shove the envelope into my pants.

Blue hands me a set of car keys and says, "It's the red truck in this lot. Once the job is done, leave the car here, and Donnie will get you lift back home."

"Consider it done," I state as I exit the limo. I see the truck, and dash over as the rain is still coming down like it's going to flood. I hop into the truck, and slam the door before the cabin gets soak, I wipe the rain off my face with my shirt sleeve, and look at the address one more time. I realize his is on the southern end of the islands where all the rick fucking yuppies live. I don't care why they are the target, but they really had to mess up for Blue to order the hit. I start up the truck, and head down there.

As I pull into the driveway of the house, I notice there is only one light on in the upper left side of the house. I look around to make sure the coast is clear as I put an empty syringe into my pocket. I get out, and head to the front door. As I'm about to put in the key into the lock, I notice the door slightly ajar. I place my hand around my pistol, and creep inside. Inside the foyer, there is an alarm panel, but it's disarmed. I begin to feel the sweat run down my back as this job almost feels like a setup. I take one deep breath, and head up the stairs.

When I reach the second floor, I see there's a door open at the end of the left hallway. I inch my way down the hallway as I can't help shake the feeling that this isn't a hit, but a trap. As I make near the door, I can see an elderly man sitting in a rocking chair with an almost empty bottle of whiskey in his hand staring towards the windows. He takes the final swig of the bottle, and tosses it against the wall.

"Death, I'm ready to leave this wretched shithole. Make it swift, Taker of Souls," he says before lighting up a cigarette.

I slip on my leather gloves, and pull out the syringe before I enter the door.  I sneak up behind the old man, and before I can jab the syringe into his neck, he starts rambling.

"I won't turn around to see my killer, but before you release my soul, there's something you should know," he says. "Madam is not what she seems. The reason for the secrecy is she's someone you see every day, but will never know it. She will do anything to keep her real business separate from the person she shows the world. Now, do what you're sent here to do."

Without a single word, I fill the syringe with air, and shove the needle into his neck filling his jugular artery with air. I stand behind him as he takes his last breaths. Five minutes later, he's dead. I put the syringe back into my pocket, and leave the house. On the drive home, I begin to wonder if his last words were the mutterings of a drunk man, or was there some truth behind him. If Madam is really a public figure, would explain all the smokes and mirrors dealing with her. I also begin to wonder who is behind the visor when I deal with Blue, and why they hid behind their voice changer.

As I drop the truck off, I dismiss them as nonsense being spouted from a drunk man ready to die. A minute later, Donnie pulls up. I hop in. On the drive back to my apartment, I can't shake the feeling that man wasn't talking pure bullshit, but since I enjoy breathing, I pretend it's nothing but conspiracy drivel from a man that wanted to die. I finally stop worrying about it and ask Donnie, “Do you really have to take me home, or can we go somewhere and bullshit over some decent beer?"

"Nope. I know of a place," Donnie says as he heads northward, "Besides, after the day I had, I can use a fucking beer."

As we drive towards the bar, I smile at the phrase Taker of Souls. I’ve taken four souls here, but when you hear from a man that wants to end the bullshit called life, it has a different tone to it. I lost all empathy for people, and tonight, I actually enjoyed watching the last winds exit a dead man's lungs. Besides, I shouldn't care who Blue and Madam really are. I do what they want, and they keep me alive. A life for a life is the price to pay when dealing with The Taker of Souls.