17
The room was dim lighted, as only a small lantern was lightning the room. Inside, a middle-aged man was sitting in front of a wooden table and a younger man was in front of him, tying his long black hair into a ponytail.
Well, then, Dimitri.” The old man had a deep, bass voice that could've freaked any kids out as they would think it was the voice of a monster. But the younger man wasn't a kid anymore, so he didn't seem to be scared. He turned to the older man as he took out a cigarette from his pocket.
“Yes, I've heard.”
“Then you should know what to do,” the old man said. “Tell me what you should do.”
“Get the doll and run, right,” Dimitri said as he lit the cigarette. “That's simple.”
“And then?”
...then?
“But isn't that the...”
“It's not only that,” the voice said. “If possible, I want you to kill her.”
~•~
“You want me to tell you something, Kalinka?”
“What?”
“There'll be nobody coming here tonight,” Charles said as he turned to his friend, who was standing behind her. She had her hair tied into a wavy ponytail, and she was wearing a black poncho on her black blouse, a skirt that end on her knees, and a pair of black boots. She turned to him, pretending to be interested, even if it might fail, then she looked away.
“But I thought you said you're sure they'll come.”
He chuckled, then he dozed off to the dark night sky where the moon was hiding behind the clouds, and smiled discreetly.
A bit more.
“Let's just wait, then.”
And so, they waited.
~•~
Kalinka sighed loudly and glanced at her white watch. It read 00.15, and she turned to Charles, who was sitting on the ground next to her feet. He was dozing off somewhere, waiting, perhaps, but he was still wide-awake — she could see that. While she, herself... Was feeling very sleepy.
Are they going to come?
“See, Kalinka?” He finally made a sound and turned to her with a smile. “Nobody's going to come.”
“You were so sure they'll come,” she said, feeling some suspicion rose inside her. “You didn't tell me to come here with you for nothing, right?”
“You know why nobody come?” He asked as he stood u — his leg muscles must be shouting in pain by now, after sitting for quite a long time in an uncomfortable position. “It's of course, because they've come. They don't come again.”
... What? “So...”
“Well, let's start talking about it, then,” he said as he turned to her. “Of course, I want you, as the payment.”
… “Aren't you giving it to those British?”
“Well, I mean, it never quite left their hand, does it,” he said as he ripped something off his face. Kalinka watched it calmly, as if she was used to see someone did that or she might even did it sometimes, until he threw a piece of rubber to the ground.
“So you want me as a payment? Won't it be the same like not leaving your hands?”
“You can hand it to someone else before giving yourself to me.”
“And after that...” She bit her lower lip as she could remember the image of a small wooden doll being handed to her. “What will you do? Kill me?”
“Oh, my, my...” Women can just read through everything, can't they? He sighed silently, cursing her anxiety, but it was quite important at times, too. “Aren't there anything else you can talk about aside from death?”
“Not like you're going to marry me,” she said. “And besides, haven't the bartender told you I was married?”
So she knows... “Well, let's see about that. But well, being together isn't a bad idea, I guess.”
“Sorry,” she said with a grim smile. “It's not that easy.”
“Come on, just cut the deal,” he said. “You know you and I aren't the only ones who want this doll.”
“Of course...”
Suddenly she pulled out a knife from and threw it to the back, past her shoulders. The knife flew like a dart and entered a bush, then a thump was heard and silence slipped back into the thin air. She then looked up to him as she brushed away the air around her hands and smiled.
And for the first time since they met, he felt fear.
A very eerie feeling — the sensation quickly slipped into every single cell inside his body, conquering him like cancer. He then looked at her again, who was still smiling, and felt something creeping inside him.
This can't be... right?
“Maybe I should rip off your other mask before we continue our talk?”
He could suddenly sense danger. He looked up at her sharply as he felt his heart raced.
“Were you told to or something?”
“Of course,” she said with a thin smile. “I never take any interest in it. But it sure feels nice to see that the doll has never been handed to the wrong hands. Or...” the smile on her face grew, into a cynical smile. “Maybe, a bit wrong.”
“...”
“So tell me, where's the doll?” she asked as she unbuttoned her poncho. “If you want it to be painless, you'd better tell me now.”
Painless, huh... “In the right hands. You shouldn't worry...”
“No hands are right anymore, in this world full of farce and tricks,” she said. “So, just a little, will you tell me?”
Charles looked at her again, then he bit his lower lip and cursed silently.
Damn...
“No.”
Kalinka sighed loudly and looked away with a sour face. For a minute she looked like a sad kid who didn't get her daily dose of candy, but then her expression changed, into a colder one. She smiled to him — a grim smile — but of course it was fake and creepy.
“Oh, come on...”
“No,” he said, staying in what he has said. “You'll have to pry it out of me.”
“Well then, I'm not good at such things,” she said as her hands moved to the back of her belt. He watched her movements, every millimetre of her move, so that he would be ready when she struck.
What now? A gun? A knife, or maybe...
“Let's leave the dirty stuff for the others, shall we...”
~•~
It's cold...
Frederich walked into the field as he lifted the collar of his black coat to cover his mouth. The night has been cold since the sun went down, the temperature dropping to 14 degrees Celsius from 25 in the day. He looked around, and the sight of two silhouettes quickly caught his eyes.
Hopkins...
“See, I told you we'd meet again!”
He turned to the voice and saw the silhouette of a woman walking to him. Only a few steps later, then he could see her with his eyes accommodated to its maximum. He quickly recognized her, and sighed, half in wrath and half in relief.
“Well, yeah.”
“I'm taking your guy back to my bosses,” she said. “So I'll leave the doll with you. Have you found it?”
“My friend is sending his men to track it... Or her?” He paused talking for a while, then he walked over to her. “They're tracking her down, that's for sure,” he said with a thin smile. She turned to him and smiled, making him remember a strangely similar smile. She then knelt down and lifted the man lying on the ground, then she stood up painfully. Of course he was heavy. Frederich quickly walked closer to her, trying to offer her a hand, but she shook her head and walked away. After walking a few steps, she turned back to him and smiled.
“You're one interesting guy, from what I've heard and seen, Mr. Fuller,” she said. “Let's meet again sometime in the future.”
The room was dim lighted, as only a small lantern was lightning the room. Inside, a middle-aged man was sitting in front of a wooden table and a younger man was in front of him, tying his long black hair into a ponytail.
Well, then, Dimitri.” The old man had a deep, bass voice that could've freaked any kids out as they would think it was the voice of a monster. But the younger man wasn't a kid anymore, so he didn't seem to be scared. He turned to the older man as he took out a cigarette from his pocket.
“Yes, I've heard.”
“Then you should know what to do,” the old man said. “Tell me what you should do.”
“Get the doll and run, right,” Dimitri said as he lit the cigarette. “That's simple.”
“And then?”
...then?
“But isn't that the...”
“It's not only that,” the voice said. “If possible, I want you to kill her.”
~•~
“You want me to tell you something, Kalinka?”
“What?”
“There'll be nobody coming here tonight,” Charles said as he turned to his friend, who was standing behind her. She had her hair tied into a wavy ponytail, and she was wearing a black poncho on her black blouse, a skirt that end on her knees, and a pair of black boots. She turned to him, pretending to be interested, even if it might fail, then she looked away.
“But I thought you said you're sure they'll come.”
He chuckled, then he dozed off to the dark night sky where the moon was hiding behind the clouds, and smiled discreetly.
A bit more.
“Let's just wait, then.”
And so, they waited.
~•~
Kalinka sighed loudly and glanced at her white watch. It read 00.15, and she turned to Charles, who was sitting on the ground next to her feet. He was dozing off somewhere, waiting, perhaps, but he was still wide-awake — she could see that. While she, herself... Was feeling very sleepy.
Are they going to come?
“See, Kalinka?” He finally made a sound and turned to her with a smile. “Nobody's going to come.”
“You were so sure they'll come,” she said, feeling some suspicion rose inside her. “You didn't tell me to come here with you for nothing, right?”
“You know why nobody come?” He asked as he stood u — his leg muscles must be shouting in pain by now, after sitting for quite a long time in an uncomfortable position. “It's of course, because they've come. They don't come again.”
... What? “So...”
“Well, let's start talking about it, then,” he said as he turned to her. “Of course, I want you, as the payment.”
… “Aren't you giving it to those British?”
“Well, I mean, it never quite left their hand, does it,” he said as he ripped something off his face. Kalinka watched it calmly, as if she was used to see someone did that or she might even did it sometimes, until he threw a piece of rubber to the ground.
“So you want me as a payment? Won't it be the same like not leaving your hands?”
“You can hand it to someone else before giving yourself to me.”
“And after that...” She bit her lower lip as she could remember the image of a small wooden doll being handed to her. “What will you do? Kill me?”
“Oh, my, my...” Women can just read through everything, can't they? He sighed silently, cursing her anxiety, but it was quite important at times, too. “Aren't there anything else you can talk about aside from death?”
“Not like you're going to marry me,” she said. “And besides, haven't the bartender told you I was married?”
So she knows... “Well, let's see about that. But well, being together isn't a bad idea, I guess.”
“Sorry,” she said with a grim smile. “It's not that easy.”
“Come on, just cut the deal,” he said. “You know you and I aren't the only ones who want this doll.”
“Of course...”
Suddenly she pulled out a knife from and threw it to the back, past her shoulders. The knife flew like a dart and entered a bush, then a thump was heard and silence slipped back into the thin air. She then looked up to him as she brushed away the air around her hands and smiled.
And for the first time since they met, he felt fear.
A very eerie feeling — the sensation quickly slipped into every single cell inside his body, conquering him like cancer. He then looked at her again, who was still smiling, and felt something creeping inside him.
This can't be... right?
“Maybe I should rip off your other mask before we continue our talk?”
He could suddenly sense danger. He looked up at her sharply as he felt his heart raced.
“Were you told to or something?”
“Of course,” she said with a thin smile. “I never take any interest in it. But it sure feels nice to see that the doll has never been handed to the wrong hands. Or...” the smile on her face grew, into a cynical smile. “Maybe, a bit wrong.”
“...”
“So tell me, where's the doll?” she asked as she unbuttoned her poncho. “If you want it to be painless, you'd better tell me now.”
Painless, huh... “In the right hands. You shouldn't worry...”
“No hands are right anymore, in this world full of farce and tricks,” she said. “So, just a little, will you tell me?”
Charles looked at her again, then he bit his lower lip and cursed silently.
Damn...
“No.”
Kalinka sighed loudly and looked away with a sour face. For a minute she looked like a sad kid who didn't get her daily dose of candy, but then her expression changed, into a colder one. She smiled to him — a grim smile — but of course it was fake and creepy.
“Oh, come on...”
“No,” he said, staying in what he has said. “You'll have to pry it out of me.”
“Well then, I'm not good at such things,” she said as her hands moved to the back of her belt. He watched her movements, every millimetre of her move, so that he would be ready when she struck.
What now? A gun? A knife, or maybe...
“Let's leave the dirty stuff for the others, shall we...”
~•~
It's cold...
Frederich walked into the field as he lifted the collar of his black coat to cover his mouth. The night has been cold since the sun went down, the temperature dropping to 14 degrees Celsius from 25 in the day. He looked around, and the sight of two silhouettes quickly caught his eyes.
Hopkins...
“See, I told you we'd meet again!”
He turned to the voice and saw the silhouette of a woman walking to him. Only a few steps later, then he could see her with his eyes accommodated to its maximum. He quickly recognized her, and sighed, half in wrath and half in relief.
“Well, yeah.”
“I'm taking your guy back to my bosses,” she said. “So I'll leave the doll with you. Have you found it?”
“My friend is sending his men to track it... Or her?” He paused talking for a while, then he walked over to her. “They're tracking her down, that's for sure,” he said with a thin smile. She turned to him and smiled, making him remember a strangely similar smile. She then knelt down and lifted the man lying on the ground, then she stood up painfully. Of course he was heavy. Frederich quickly walked closer to her, trying to offer her a hand, but she shook her head and walked away. After walking a few steps, she turned back to him and smiled.
“You're one interesting guy, from what I've heard and seen, Mr. Fuller,” she said. “Let's meet again sometime in the future.”
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