June 29 at 8:00 PM
Photo by Philip Bitnar (Flickr.com)
"Nice tidy little story. Very touching." Hicks adjusted the toothpick in his mouth. "You're running out of fingernails Mr. Dennings, and I don't do toenails if you know what I mean? Perhaps we should start taking pieces from someplace else?"
I spit in his direction. "Fucking prick."
"You should really watch your manners, sir." He pointed the toothpick. "Agent Wilfork, sit him upright. I hate a slouch."
Wilfork slipped his arm under my neck and cranked backwards.
"Excellent. A golden star for the contract killer. Now, do you really expect me to believe that you spent three days with Indigo and can't remember a thing?"
"I was heavily sedated, asshole," I replied.
"Well I for one believe you, sir." Hicks put the toothpick back in his mouth. "And I'd imagine that any memory incurred in this semiconscious state would be hazy at best. That's why I brought in a specialist."
The door opened. A hulking man in a black suit stepped inside.
"I can assure you Marvis isn't here to dance around the fire and chant incantations. He's got his own methods."
"I have my own methods," the dark-skinned man stripped off his shades.
"And I'm sure he'll get everything he needs out of you," said Hicks.
Marvis stepped around the table and put his face in mine. "I'm going to get everything I need from you."
His stare penetrated me.
"Better say something quick. I think he forgot his lines," I chuckled. "Who's next, Hannibal Lecter? No offense, but I've seen more wackos in a downtown McDonalds than in this joint."
The dark one did not break his stare.
"I'll tell you what he is—he's a damned parrot. Staple him to your fucking shoulder."
Marvis angled his head, spotting something awry with my face. With one finger he pressed down on the broken socket, ramming the bone into my eye. Flashes of Indigo shot through my mind. Pale eyes piercing the darkness.
"Can you see, Mr. Dennings?" he pressed harder.
A fresh wave of pain. Memories of Indigo smiling, descending onto the tracks, and disappearing into the tunnel.
Marvis released the pressure and the world came back into view. Her shadow lingered, hovering above Marvis and Hicks.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"What are you laughing at?" Marvis shouted.
"You've been marked, boys. She's coming for you."
"Highly doubtful." Hicks tossed his toothpick across the room.
"Quiet," Marvis barked.
Special Agent Hicks shrugged it off.
"You're going to tell me everything you know about Indigo." He dug his fingers into my temples.
And apparently I did.