Sophie rolled her eyes, the sharp sound of her tongue clicking against her teeth overwhelmed by the bass thumping from inside the club. "Jamal, for real? How much longer? My feet are killing me in these heels."
She said, leaning against the velvet rope, as she pouted, (an expression she knew would work on him).
Behind her were Derald and her sister, Alice, who shifted her weight impatiently, as though pressed or... pressed.
"I'll just pass him a few hundred Val so he'll let us in, or we can take this back to my place," Derald whispered, but before he could even finish, Sophie shot him a look.
"Don't force her, you'll wear yourself out," Alice's voice rang out, its pitch oddly calm amid her evident discomfort.
"But don't you have to p..." Derald stopped when he noticed Alice's eyes narrow, smiling bitterly at himself.
He had wanted to take Alice on a date and hopefully end up with something more by the end of the night, but that was impossible with her sister tagging along.
As though noticing his expression Alice raised a brow, her voice monotone, "What, you thought I'd be easy?"
"What? No!" Derald furrowed his brows, his tone deathly serious. Alice, on the other hand, simply gave him a long look and then turned to her sister, who was still pestering the guard.
'Fuck this, how much effort till this bitch opens her legs,' Derald sighed in his mind, not used to spending so much time with women, he was the kind of person that loathed commitment of any kind.
Sophie had accompanied them on their date as a third wheel, for most of the night hindering most of his advances.
She had then resolved to take them to a club she and Vincent frequented, closer to the slums of District 42.
The line for Club One-Time-Fight-Scene was always a nightmare, but it was worth it to visit the most exclusive club in the area, a place where the rich kids and Trust-fund babies hung out.
Meanwhile, "you know the rules, Sophie," Jamal said, his voice a low rumble that definitely matched his massive frame; it was like he had an extra vocal cord in his stomach.
Though he knew Sophie, he didn't look at her; rather, his eyes scanned the crowd with an expressionless face, but when he felt her arm on his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitched. "Capacity is capacity, Sophie. Almost there."
"You said that ten minutes ago, Gorilla," Derald chimed in, fanning himself with a folded flyer, not used to the heat, 'it's hotter than a witch's tit out here,' he thought, wondering why he had worn his brown suit.
At his words, Jamel narrowed his eyes at the man, but Derald just stared back without fear, his eyes seeming to say, 'I spend your yearly salary in hours.'
"Though he said it in the most jackassish way possible, (and will be heavily scolded later), he's not wrong," Sophie pleaded. "Jamal. You gonna leave us out here to melt?"
Sophie flashed Jamal her best smile, the one that had gotten her past his rope twice before. "C'mon, baby. Just three more. We'll even buy you a drink inside." She reached out, letting her fingers brush against the thick muscle of his forearm.
Jamal's eyes twitched again, and then he finally looked down at her, a flicker of amusement in his otherwise stoic face.
'This girl,' he thought, impressed by her perfected routine. The flirting, the complaining, the eventual victory of slipping inside while the rest of the suckers waited.
"Okay-" Jamal started to answer, but was cut short by the sudden screech of tires further down the dark street, attracting attention instantly.
Everyone in line turned, a collective gasp rippling through them as they stared wide-eyed.
"What the hell was that?" Sophie muttered, squinting at the noise.
Derald and Alice looked confused as well, but then they saw it: the passenger door of a speeding car flying open as a figure (a woman) tumbled out into the road.
"Bam!"
She hit the asphalt with a brutal, grinding roll that made Sophie wince in sympathy, her figure reeling slightly.
"Oh my God!" she shrieked, while Alice, shocked by the development, leaned into Derald, who stared with narrowed eyes.
The woman, who looked to be dead, then staggered to her feet, her clothes torn and bloody from the asphalt.
She looked disoriented, her head swiveling wildly, like some cornered beast thrown in a new environment.
"What the fuck!"
"Fuck! Whoever be driving that thing be dead!"
"Call Emergency!"
The bystanders yelled, some leaving their spot in line to get a better look.
Before Sophie or her friends could even process the finer details of the scene, a small group of working girls who had been lingering near the club's alley rushed over, their high heels clacking urgently on the pavement.
"Are you ok, girl?" one of them called out, reaching for the black lady's bleeding arm, but the lady just reeled back, as though afraid, her words uncertain from this distance.
Meanwhile, Sophie took an instinctive step forward at that scene, a pang of concern overriding her desire to get into the club. But Jamal's arm shot out, blocking her path.
"Whoa, where are you going?" he said, his voice firm, as he narrowed his eyes. He had taken a liking to the girl.
"Jamal, that girl is hurt!" Sophie argued, trying to push his arm down, but it was like trying to move a steel beam.
"If she's hurt it's not your business," Jamal stated flatly before adding. "This is the city. Minding your business pays a lot more than playing hero. You get involved, next thing you know, you're talking to cops all night instead of dancing in there." He nodded toward the club doors. "You wanna waste your night? Or you wanna get in?"
His words were cold, pragmatic even, causing Sophie to look from his resolute face back to the scene.
She saw the prostitutes fussing over the injured woman, who was shoving them away, her eyes wide with a panic that seemed odd, given the situation, like she was looking for something.
It was then that Sophie noticed the car itself, smashed head-first into a brick building, steam rising from its ruined hood.
Suddenly, "there's someone in there!" one of the ladies on the street yelled, pointing a trembling finger at the wreck.
"Well, shit!" Jamal muttered, looking over as well. Derald had a similar reaction.
Alice, who had long since regained her composure, then spoke. "Wait you guys didn't notice that she jumped from the passenger seat?" It was the entire reason she had shaken, thinking of the state of the body inside.
No one responded to her, though, eyes locked on the car with some even filming.
'I wanna go home,' Alice then thought, and it was in this moment of collective horror that she suddenly felt something (a shift in the air, a sudden, profound chill that had nothing to do with the weather).
Her gaze, following some primal instinct, then drifted upward, her blue eyes narrowing at the rooftop of the apartment building across the street.
A figure was crouched there, silhouetted against the night sky. Perfectly still. Watching.
'What is that?' Alice's breath hitched, and before she could even process what she was seeing, her attention was drawn back to the noise as the woman from the crash seemed to spot the same figure.
Her face then contorted into what could only be described as pure, unadulterated terror, then she muttered something, and moved.
It was impossible that a person should be able to move like that; a human turning into a blur as she bolted straight for the club's entrance.
"Hey!" Jamal barked, turning too late as she blew past him and disappeared into the dark interior.
"What the fuck?" Sophie and Derald exclaimed, their eyes widening. The reactions of everyone else were the same, all wondering why she had run (all except Alice, that is).
Her eyes then went back to the building and she noticed that the figure was gone.
'I don't like this,' she thought feeling uneasy, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Jamal, on the other hard, scowled, turning his anger back on the line. "Nobody else moves!" he commanded, his shoulders rising, daring anyone else to try something.
The line fell into a stunned silence, the vibe ruined as half the line departed, intent on going home.
The ones that remained stared at the club doors, then at the wrecked car, trying to weigh if a night at the club was worth the trouble... It was worth it.
"We should leave," Alice suddenly spoke, her tone resolute, making Derald thank god internally. He had started to feel uneasy, but he didn't want to admit it and damage his pride.
"No! We've been through all this trouble, so we're getting in this club or so help me God," Sophie snarled, her tone resolute.
Alice sighed, wanting to argue, but then a chill ran down her spine. She looked over, and that was when she saw him:
A man emerging from the shadows near the crashed car, his face hidden deep within a hoodie.
He moved strangely, his posture forward, walking directly toward the club entrance, toward them.
Everyone else noticed him soon after.
"Hey! Get in line!" Sophie snapped, her nerves frayed, taking out her frustration and unease on this new intruder a chorus of agreement rising from the people behind her.
"We've been waiting for an hour; no way this guy is cutting,' one bystander yelled.
"Get in line, fucker!" another added.
Meanwhile, Jamal, already pissed off from the woman who'd slipped by, narrowed his eyes at the approaching figure. "You heard them," he growled, stepping forward to meet the man.
He then stretched out a meaty hand and planted it firmly on the man's hoodie-clad shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "Get in line, kid, before I make you."
The man paused, then looked up, and people watched as Jamal's eyes narrowed.
Alice, from her position, managed to catch a glimpse of his face, one that she recognized instantly. 'Valen?' she thought, raising a brow.
At first, she began to doubt herself, but the more she saw it, the more sure she became. But then she looked at his form, which was almost as towering as Jamal's, and discredited herself. 'Hmm, no-"
"Bam!"
A sound could be heard as Jamal pushed the strange man who seemed to have attempted to force his way through, but the man barely moved.
'His tough, I could take him though,' Derald thought. Sophie, on the other hand, took a step back as she noticed the unfolding violence.
"I won't tell you ag- Argh!"
Jamal coughed as his entire form was lifted from the ground by a palm delivered in a hooking motion much faster than he could see, much less react.
Suddenly, he felt that palm shape into a claw, one that dug into his flesh, holding him like some kind of doll, his throat hitching with a thick groan of pain as a result.
It happened too fast for anyone to react, and the people could only watch as a man (his face unclear) hoisted up a larger man than he was, like some kind of doll.