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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1867820-chapter-one
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by yeyo Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Chapter · Dark · #1867820
twisted, schizo, genius, stupid, insane, chaotic, down right awesomeness
The silence made him think too much, the loud noises helped him focus or lose focus, he couldn't tell, all he knew was that it drowned out the psychotic thoughts and the voices, he couldn't control running through his mind. The music was loud enough to make it hard for him to think, and the people served as a visual distraction, as he was able to judge and size up each and every one of them. He didn't feel out of place, but he knew he didn't belong there, they where a distraction. He just wanted to drink and slow down his chaotic mind. He liked the place it was full of strange people, some regulars that always where there and the rest where new locals and tourist.

His bartender Sara was always attentive of him, though he knew the reason why, his tips made her night. He smiled to himself; the man on his left had struck out five times already. He decided to buy the man a drink. At least he had the balls to say the stupid shit he came up with, he thought to himself. The man thanked him and walked away, off to see if he would get lucky before the night was over. He turned back to face the mirror once more.

The lights kept him from seeing himself in the mirror clearly. He liked that, except the times where he could catch a glimpse of himself, when the light gave him enough clarity to see himself. He hated those moments. The man in the mirror was not him. He didn't understand why, but it wasn’t him. He didn't like the man in the mirror, the alcohol helped to make him a blur, and helped block out his voice. He turned from time to time and observed those around him. Some wanted to be there and others didn't. It was a strange world he lived in. Women found him intriguing, he found them annoying, and irritating, beautiful as they may seem on the outside they where ugly on the inside. He gave none a chance; he wasn't there for that, he made sure they knew he wasn't a player in their little game. He answered them dryly, gave them a cold shoulder and they froze not sure how to approach him thereafter. He made no attempt to play their game, ignored them and never looked at them. They came and went like mosquitoes.

“Disgusting.”

On the other side of the bar, a woman caught his attention. The same woman he had seen for the last few weeks. She was becoming a regular. He stared and studied her from time to time and he came to the conclusion he wasn't the only one there for his reason, she seemed as if she was in another world. All types of men had tried to bring their best game on with her, but she turned every single one of them down. She didn't seem as she was interested in anything any of them had to say. He found her intriguing and very beautiful. It was hard to keep his eyes of her sometimes she was the best distraction in the place he had seen in a long time. She looked his way from time to time and they would just stare at each other. No smiles just a blank stare to one another. Sara interrupted his little staring contest with a smile, and said:

"That's Maya."

She looked back at the woman and at him, "are you interested Max, i can introduce you, she only asks for me for some reason, just like you do, and winked at him. She doesn't seem to be here for the men either, just as you are not here for the women."

"You know i hate that name... Max, why do you insist on calling me that Sara?" He threw a small smirk, finished his whiskey, paid the tab and left.

"Just so i can hear you say my name," she shouted to him as he walked away.

He smiled lifted his hand in a good bye gesture and kept walking.

Maya, he thought to himself. He liked that name. It is a beautiful name he thought. She was a beautiful woman. He was standing there with his key in the key hole thinking about her, then he saw her come out, two men following her, one a heavy build, looked more like a body guard very well rounded the other seemed like he was on steroids, his eyes fell to her walking searching for her car keys... she was beautiful he said to himself. His attention went back to the two men smirking whispering to each other something didn't feel right to him. He waited he learned to listen to his intuition a long time ago, it was seldom wrong. She was about to place the key in the keyhole when the steroids man grabbed her hand and with a drunken slur:

“Hey girly where do you think you’re going doll face?"

"What do you want get away..." She looked around frantically screaming for help, she saw no one was around, then her head started looked to the other parking lot and she saw him, their eyes met and she stopped screaming for a moment and the world stood still, the men grabbed her. She started to scream again. She kicked and scratched. They pinned her down to the floor.

Max was in a world of rage, he strode to the other side of his car grabbed the fat man from the back of his shirt and flung him towards the car opposite of his as if the man weighed nothing more than a pillow case. The big man got up with difficulty but so angry he couldn't stop cursing.

“You son of a bitch,"

The big man yelled, and charged at him. Max stepped aside and the big man tripped over his leg and ran into the truck and knocked himself unconscious. The Blonde man turned to see the commotion, he looked back to see his big friend down. He grumbled and got up.

"Boy I’m going to enjoy this; you should have minded your own business and kept walking son."

And he smiled a wicked looking grin. He pulled out a pretty big knife, his words where slurred as his movements.

Maya's full attention was now solely focused on the man who came to rescue her, she saw nothing else, and a hulk of a man he was, lean rugged and looked like he just came from out of hell. Confidence was in his demeanor. His knuckles scared, bruised and bloodied as if they have frequent use. His face not sad or content, but as if he was just aware of his surroundings. What she felt when she looked at him, she didn't understand. His composure, made her feel safe he gave no sign of any emotion what so ever. It looked more like he welcomed anything that would dare make it his way. His eyes met hers, time stopped. The blonde man saw his opening and lunged toward him, her savior didn’t as much as flinch. The knife was directed towards his throat.

He could see from the corner of his eye, the man made his move, his gaze still directed at hers he lifted his hand, the knife hit flesh and pierced through his palm, stopping the blade inches away from his throat, he didn't scream or cry out in pain he just stood there clenched his fist around the man's hand giving him the advantage and control of the hand with the weapon. The blonde haired man, froze, shocked at what just occurred. Max looked up, the man was petrified.

“Hey girly where do you think you’re going doll face?"

Max was in extreme pain, he didn't understand why he would just do that, but he wasn't in control anymore. The pain just added more fuel for the world of hate he was in already in. It passed through him like a time bomb as when he was fighting. The world stopped he could hear his heart beat and see everything slow down. Then Maya and the man disappeared. He was in that place again, where he met him for the first time. It was happening more frequently now. Then he heard laughter, and of a sudden he saw everything the man in chains was seeing.

He could feel and see himself start to make a movement, the blonde haired man was yanked toward him and his other hand started to move toward him as well, and as if he was watching a movie his fist met the mans jaw. The blond haired man released the knife handle and dropped to the floor. He didn't move again.

He pulled the knife from his palm, his hand throbbed, and it was a nice knife. He wiped the blood on the man’s shirt and stayed with the knife. He offered her a hand. She took it without hesitation;

"Are you alright?"

She nodded.

"Ummm.... ok good, call the cops, they will be out for awhile he looked back at the bodies, give them the story and if they need me, to look me up, my blood is on the man shirt they can find me in the system. You should be more careful you shouldn’t be alone; this place is not meant for a woman alone. You got lucky this time; I may not be there next time. He looked at his hand, it throbbed, blood was dripping down, and he looked at the knife. He grabbed it by its blade and pointed the handle towards her.

"Here hold on to this keep it with you; tell the police I took it. Never hesitate."

She took the knife, looked at it a brief moment, then she looked up and he was already walking away towards his truck. She screamed out

"Wait, what is your name??"

He kept walking. His mind lost in the voices and thoughts again and now this annoying throbbing pain in his left hand.

He got in his truck and drove straight home, the pain bearable thanks to that pathetic fool. That and he has come to beleive he is very pain tolerant, or he really has no feeling what so ever, or maybe pain is not really pain, or he is already dead and this is his hell. He laughed.

"After what i went through, thats what you want to think about, you guys drive me fuckin crazy." he was talking to himself again.

As soon as he got home, he said hi to love, he grabbed the bottle of jack Daniels and started chugging at it. He placed his hand with the wound on the sink, and he poured some on his hand, it burned, and the only word that came to him was, "WAAAHHHHOOOOOOOO!!!!" and took another gulp. He grabbed the Neosporin, stuffed the open wound with it and grabbed the stitches from the top drawer he barely used and just stared at them for awhile and kept drinking.

"Boss are you ok? Boss..."

"Shut up love," he shouted in anger. she knew he didn't mean it. She had learned already he was in extreme pain, and that is how he dealt with it. He was a strange individual she thought to herself. Never understanding why he did things the way he did them, but she couldn't classify him as crazy, insane, mentally ill or any of those, just strange, different.

He couldn't see straight any more the alcohol had done its job. He never reached sewing himself up, but reluctantly grabbed the hydrogen peroxide and poured that on as well and then let it dry for a minute or two while downing the rest of the bottle. Wrapped it up with the cloth and fell on his mattress and passed out.

"Good night Boss," and Love went silent, back to her chores he had given her.
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