A few hours later I'm walking down the hallways when I hear Roulette and Kunnia talking.
I notice Melo peaking around the corner, looking at the duo.
We just wiped this guy's collection, and he's already back to it. If I had to give him credit for anything, I would say it's his determination.
I manage to walk up behind Melo without him noticing. I've always felt like I was invisible, but this just hurts my ego. I don't act, instead, I wait. Fearing Roulette may bad mouth me in front of Kunnia, I decide to eavesdrop with the unaware Melo.
"Where is Saint?" Kunnia questions Roulette.
"Ho? Are you trying to confess to him again?" Roulette smirks.
Kunnia looks visibly annoyed by this. I frown as my chances at a date are beginning to look grim.
"Quit trying to set us up! I want a rematch; my pride won't let me end on a loss."
"Hehe! Do you know how much money that sentence has caused me to lose? Unfortunately, I don't know where that dismal dude is?"
"Well... you seem close to Saint. So tell me, why does he never seem happy?"
Roulette raises her eyebrow as she scratches her head. "I'm just as close as anyone else. He keeps everyone an arm's length away; I meant that metaphorically but probably literally, too."
I'm so invested in the conversation that I almost don't notice Melo was lunging at me. I guess he'd noticed my ghostly presence. I reflexively grab a coin and slam his head in with a steel bat.
Whew. that was close.
I bash his head in a few times and hesitate, fearing I may make a mess. Rolling out another coin, I zip him up in a body bag.
Somehow, they didn't hear the bat against Melo's skull; as I return to eavesdropping on the conversation, Kunnia now seems to be complimenting me.
"It was strange even after he won against me... it seemed as though he wasn't surprised... as though him losing was never a possibility."
"Ooh, sounds kinda scary. Ol' Dead Eyes is probably a treasure trove of secrets! We should uncover them!" Roulette cheers.
I don't have any secrets to hide, at least not in this life.
Kunnia looks concerned for Roulette's sanity. "Um... there's no need to do that. I'm just wondering if he's even human?"
"Hmm... I see what you're saying. Showing sadness, fear, happiness, or any emotion is definitely a human trait. Maybe he's a half-breed, half-human half...dead?"
Kunnia looks as if she is about to give a lecture, but manages to restrain herself. "I don't believe that's how half-breeds work, Roulette."
Ignoring the fact that Roulette was just corrected, she's already onto the next subject. "Anyway! You're talking to the right person. Let's make a bet! Who can make Saint smile first... and I want a real smile! "
Roulette puts out a hand, Kunnia looks down unsure.
Lifting my shoe I realize there's still blood on them; Attempting to wipe them off, I rub them against the red carpet.
Kunnia finally shakes Roulette's hand.
They continue walking down the hallways, as I barely manage to hide myself and the body bag while the two walk by.
Once the pair had passed, I continue down the hall carrying Melo's surprisingly light body, making my way down to the abandoned cellar that Melo himself was previously using, ironic.
It has a few bloody hooks and various utensils, so I create a few plastic barrels and a couple of liters of formaldehyde. Setting the body bag down, I put on my mask before getting to work.
Grabbing the hacksaw off the wall, I unzip the bag, pull out Melo's body, and begin cutting. A large part of my muscle physic is likely just from sawing through bone. It takes a surprising amount of effort to cut through...would it be triceps? I don't give enough credit to the huma-
Suddenly, I feel a hand around my throat. It looks like the bat to the head wasn't enough as Melo begins to move again. His hand is not nearly strong enough to choke me. It was like a baby trying to grab onto its parents. I bat his hand out of the way as I snatch the bowie knife from my back pocket.
Stabbing down, this time, I make sure it's vital. From the outside, he looks very frail, almost bony. But his blood was a decent shade of red, which means he was eating properly. I shrug off his frailness to bad genes.
The knife, now lodged between his chest. As it sits there, I think back to the conversation the girls were having about me earlier. Trying to remember the last time I smiled.
Grabbing the knife, I now stab down, and down, and down; he is already long since dead, but my body doesn't tell me to stop, so... I don't.
Blood splatters on my face. I realize for a singular moment, I ended this man's life. Tomorrow, he will not wake, his family cannot mourn, I stole his last breath, and for what? ...and then I realized it was for this...
I feel it...
For this brief moment, this split second. I feel something... guilt, shame, disappointment, sadness, joy; just as life is created to breathe, I have taken that very life.
Sitting there bathed in his blood, his life... his being. Silence engulfs the room. But it is interrupted by the crackling noise as the corners of my mouth lift upward; my eyes begin to crinkle at the corners as my cheeks rise. For I had felt something...