"Fires of Scorn"

Armor made of angst
Held by rivets of woe
Souls bitter and chaotic
Animosity freely flows
Scars of their victories
Worn like war medals
Blood stained fingers
Loyalty to their devils
Condemn by Heaven
Forever they're hell bent.
Unbound and unhinged
Their hearts won't repent.
They prowl in the shadows
Imprisoned from the light.
They take the damned
Ending their pathetic life.
Anarchy is their mission
No remorse or empathy
Burning all signs of hope
Amongst decaying society
Their only known weakness
Compassion has vanished
The growing fires of scorn
End when we're all banished.

The Madam Of Suburbia Chapter 30

Chapter 30 - Arrivals and Departures

"Meredith," I hear Amber moan waking me from dead sleep. I jump off the couch I was sleeping on so fast that I trip on the sheet, and crash against the side of Amber's bed. As I pull myself off the floor, I find Amber laying there with an attempt of a smile on her pale face. I sit down next to her, and find myself crying as for the first time in over a month, her eyes are open. She tries to lift her hand, but I gently take her hand into mine as the tears begin to stream from hers. I try to speak, but I'm so choked up with happiness that all I can do is cry as Death has not taken the greatest thing in my life away from me. A month of my living hell is washed away because my angel finally spoke.

"Where am I?" she asks as she tries to fiddle with all the wires that are connected to the machines.

"You're in the infirmary," I reply.

"Why am I here?"

"I'll explain later. Let me get one of the doctors in here first before we go any further," I reply as I press the call button.

She runs her fingers across my cheek and says, "You look like shit."

"Well, someone had me worried to death," I reply.

"How long have I've been out?" she asks.

Before I can answer, the doctor enters the room. She looks at Amber, and motions that I should leave so she can run some tests.  I nod my head, and try to leave when Amber grabs my arm.

"Does he have to go? He already has seen me naked," she asks.

"It would be better if he did," replies the doctor.

"I'll be right outside, Amber. Everything will be okay," I say as I gently slide her hand off my arm.

"Don't go too far," she please.

"I'll have a quick smoke, and be right back."

I didn't want to leave that room, but the doctor needs to do her job. I walk out onto the front porch, and find Damian smoking as well. I light one up before announcing, "Amber is awake. The doctor is doing some tests on her now."

"I bet your shoulders feel a lot lighter," Damian replies. "That's fucking fantastic news though."

"I haven't told her anything about what has unfolded yet. Right now, she needs her rest until she's cleared," I state as I think how I will feel shitty for keeping the truth from her, but she just cheated Death. She doesn't need the real world hitting all at once.

"Agreed. Our main focus is to let her make a full recovery."

I sigh as I think that the first thing that will be shared was the fact she was the primary target of the guard. Madam wanted her out of the picture with the hopes that the DEA will back off, but Damian is applying more heat to her by going after the money. Maybe once Amber is back to speed, I can finally leave this swamp, and get back on the streets. I'm tired of sitting here and doing nothing. I feel like shit knowing that men are dying to take down the entire cartel, and all I do is read paperwork.

I almost jump when over Damian's walkie talkie I hear a senator's motorcade is requesting entry. I always questioned about Amber's father being a senator, but it seems I'll learn the truth today. I finish my smoke, and head back to the infirmary. If her father is the one arriving, I don't want to be the first person he sees upon exiting the vehicle. Also, figured Amber would want to know that her father is here. I'm honestly not looking forward to talking to him. I know the conversation will turn awkward once he learns his daughter has been falling in love with me: a hitman, druggie, and a man that will never be fucking good enough for his precious Amber.

Then again, I find myself wondering why he hasn't shown up until now. I'm sure someone within the DEA did inform him of his daughter's condition. If Amber was my child, I would have been on the first fucking plane down here. Then again, she never talked about him at all. The only time I remember she called him was that time she proved to me after I left Curva that my target that night was her father. After that, I'm not aware of any further calls made. I never did ask either because it's really none of my fucking business.

As I wait outside the door, I see two suited goons approach me. I wonder where they hide the cloning machine because they all look like monkeys in suits: cheap aviator sunglasses, black suits, and slicked back hair. I almost want to throw water on one to see if they're machines.

"Is Amber Townsend behind this door?" one asks.

"Yes, but she's with the doctor at the moment."

"Cardinal has been located. Ready for Eagle," chirps the other goon into his radio.

"Cute. Red hair makes her a red bird," I chuckle.

"Sir, can you relocate to another location?" asks the second goon.

"How about you fuck off? I've been at her side for this entire time, so I ain't leaving unless she tells me too."

"Will you do it if the father asks you nicely so he can have a private chat with his own daughter?" a voice asks.

I look over the suit monkeys, and see an older gentleman standing there. His red hair, despite thinning, has the same fire red shade like Amber. I look in his blue eyes, and see the sadness and shame burning in them. Despite wearing the same shade of navy blue on his suit, I know that the man standing in front of me is Senator Townsend, a man that was a target of mine. I nod my head gently, and leave the hall. I almost took that man's life, so the least I can do is honor his request. I almost cry when I think if things went to plan that night, he wouldn't be here to see Amber. A life that almost ended at my hands will have a private conversation with a life that was almost ended because of me. I fucking swearing Karma needs to leave me alone.

As I head back to the porch, Damian looks at me and asks, "How ready are you to go back into the field?"

"Another week maybe. I want to make sure Amber recovers fully before I leave here."

"I need you out there yesterday. Can you handle it?"

I pause as I think if I agree, I'll be gone ASAP. I want to spend at least some time with Amber before rushing out there, but at least with her awake, I won't be here mentally.  I wonder what is so critical that I'm needed back out there. "What's going on?"

"Meet me in the gazebo at 4pm. I'll explain then," he replies before heading back into the house.

I stand there lost in thought at what is so important that I need to leave the swamp pretty much right now. I light up another smoke as I think that I might be signing my life away by meeting with Damian, but after the month of fucking Hell I've been put through, part of me looks forward to sending someone down there. However, as I see one of the suit monkeys approach, I begin to feel leaving with Senator Townsend might not be a bad idea.

"The Senator requests your presence," they announce.

"I'll be down there after this cigarette."

He tries to say something else, but walks back into the house. I don't know why he wants to see me, but I can at least see Amber one more time before I learn what Damian has in store. I finish my cig, and head back inside. As I walk back down to the infirmary, I silently pray that Karma isn't going to fuck me over today as I learn what the future has in store for meal I ask is whatever it holds, it ends up with me returning safely so I can help Amber make a full recovery.

"Wandering"

Wandering through dreams.

Familiar faces and places

Are now cold and distant.

Nothing left but dark spaces.

Pain: the only sense of life.

Silent tears are slowly shed.

Chaos fuels empty thoughts.

Rage musings in their heads.

Needles bring some relief,

Hunting for bliss in bottles.

Pills control Anarchy's pulse

Eyes glazed behind goggles.

Wandering through dreams.

Familiar sights and sounds

Nothing but lost recollection.

Peace is a coffin in the ground.

Poetry is hateful propaganda

Art is a blood splattered wall.

Death is now full metal jacket.

Bodies and casings fill the hall.

Hope and peace are tortured.

Murder is the new obsession

Disconnected from the pulse.

Clamoring over possessions.

Wandering through dreams.

Familiar ideas and thoughts.

Nothing but an empty shell.

Paradise is truly forever lost.

The Madam Of Suburbia Chapter 29

Chapter 29 - Dead

Every second that fucking passes is pure torture as I listen to the beeps of the machines that are keeping Amber alive. When Amber and I were finally in a good place, Madam comes out of the shadows to once again throw my fucking life in a downward spiral into a fucking pit of chaos and despair. As I watch the squiggly line on the machine that shows Amber fights for her life, I vow that once I'm heal, I'm going back to Curva to choke that demonic bitch with my bare hands. I beyond tired of having my soul ripped out as I watch other's die around me. I honestly wish for once someone will pull the Goddamn trigger and end my life for once. I can't take watching anyone I even fucking care for die because of my sins instead of my tortured soul leaving this wretched place. I accept that I'm truly in Hell because I keep on living instead of being put six feet under the fucking ground.

The fact I'm still breathing means that I have a fucking chance to end all the misery. Also, the guard might have finally given us the fucking clue we needed to start ripping apart Madam's empire. I hope it's not fucking hard for the government to follow a sudden $100,000 deposit into a man's bank account that was barely grossing forty grand a year. I'm not sure if it was intentional, or Madam is getting sloppy. Either way, as I've been watching Amber lay in a bed every day in a coma for the past fucking month, it's a lead worth following. If we can follow the money, we can start chipping away at the mystique of Madam, and finally end the madness.

As I sit in the chair next to Amber's bed, I keep thinking about her comment about Karma's punching bag before that miserable bastard shot us both. The casts are finally off from the accident, but I'm still healing from the gun shots. I don't know when I pissed off the bitch Karma, but I'm getting real fucking tired of her shit. It already has Damian banning me from leaving the compound as it is. So, until I'm medically cleared, I'm stuck in this swamp wondering if another rat is going to turn up. The next asshole that points a gun at me better finish me off because I'll try my damnest to rip their fucking throat out.

The door to Amber's room opens as Damian rushes in.

"Quick. Who makes your phone?" he asks.

I pull it out of my pants and reply as I glance at the logo, “Denpa-Hoshi. Why?"

"Anything of value on there?"

"Not really. What's up?"

He walks over, and rips the phone out of my hand. I watch he throws it on the ground, and stomps on it with his heavy boots a few times.

"What the fuck, man?" I shout as he smashes it one last time.

"We followed the money, and it lead to an account that belongs to Denpa-Hoshi," Damian explains. "Until further notice, we're all switching away from all their technology."

"It's just a fucking cellphone," I retort.

"A cellphone that can spy on you without notice," he says.

"Isn't that all cellphones for your agency?" I retort.

"The difference is Denpa-Hoshi can turn on a built-in transmitter at any time they want versus our agency that has to go through a lot of legal red tape to get a warrant to buy a phone, then we have to place the bug on the target cellphone," he explains. "What they can do in minutes can take months for us."

"In other words, our cellphones might have been the biggest leak we've been facing."

"From initial thoughts of the engineers, yes. So, until then, we're only using Schallwelle phones since they don't use anything Denpa-Hoshi makes in their devices unlike the majority of cellphones out there."

"So, besides learning that our phones betrayed us, any other news?"

"We found a possible address for Spreadsheets, and no, your ass is staying here."

I point at Amber and reply, "I can't stay here and let the bitch get away with what she's done."

"Until you're fully healed, both mentally and physically, you're as useful as non-alcohol whiskey to an Irishman," he snaps back while pointing towards Amber.  "Your ass is staying here until I know that without doubt your mind won't be preoccupied."

"I can handle myself."

"Bullshit. Your mind is like a thousand-piece puzzle giving to a toddler. Until I say so, your ass is staying here because you fucking damn well know that there's one thing on your mind, and that is going to get you killed out there."

I'm about to say something, but deep down inside, he's right. My anger will get someone else killed, and right now, my soul is weighed down with some much grief and burden as my ears focus on the beeps. I'll be an emotional wreck until Amber comes out of her coma. I need to focus on repairing my mind and body as the only person I truly love fights for their life. My lone wolf mentality may have worked within the cartel, but that's not what Damian needs right now. In other words, I'm a broken man with no purpose in life.

"Look, when the time is right, you bet your ass is going back out there, but right now, I need you to stay here, and heal. Also, she needs you to heal as well," he says as he hands me a new phone. "My number is programmed. Text me if there's any changes."

With that, he leaves the room, and I slump back into the chair. With each passing beep, all I can think is I would probably be less fucked up if she did die instead of dealing with the torture of uncertainty. I've been a taker of souls in the past, but I rather take my soul before taking hers. Realizing I have no purpose right now, I decided to do the one thing that eases my troubled mind. I spend the next few hours chugging a bottle of bourbon to numb the pain while chasing after the one dream that brings me peace: the dreams about our daughter Meredith. The final thought that crosses my mind as I pass out is that I pray that she pulls out of this soon before I'm the one in the end that loses the battle of life because I’m already dead inside.