Fan Fiction ❯ Vessel of the gods ❯ Jaded Resident ( Chapter 1 )

1st Milestone

31st of Tishri

Yadrutas

 

 

Jaded Resident

0901 HOURS

 

 

He took a deep breath and opened his tired eyes.A blurry reflection of a man half-naked on the bathroom mirror welcomed him. He shut his eyes again. For him, this day was no different from the others. He sighed and steadied himself by holding onto the white porcelain sink. He was uneasy because his head throbbed. This was called a hangover, the result of last night's shenanigan.

 

He shook his head vigorously, as if it would help him lose his headache. Given that this violent gesture did not work, he opened the faucet and cupped his palms as water gushed from its mouth. He splashed the bright clear liquid several times on his face and his bare chest. He twisted the faucet knob close. He stared down on the sink as droplets of water dripped from his face and hair. The sink was fairly clean but there were parts yellowed by the hard water that flowed on it. He blinked a couple of more times until he decided that he wasn't delirious any longer.

 

“Anyway…” he studied his body in the mirror. He wasn't so muscular. His frame was slender but firm. He had a striking black dragon tattoo covering his whole left arm. It resembled one of those medieval dragons with its scaly skin, long agile body and monstrous fang-filled fire breathing mouth. Its dangerously spiked tail hung on his shoulder blade, its slender scaly body spiraled on every inch on his left arm and finally its gruesome face, with those terrifying white eyes was situated exactly on the back of his left hand. He flexed his compact biceps and the white eyes of the dragon flashed in the light. He smiled, satisfied. “Still beautiful…” He turned sideways and ran his fingers through his hair. “Lustrous black hair with sheen of green and almost reaching the shoulders… check!” He moved his face closer to the mirror until it was only an inch away. “Gorgeous yellow eyes…” he poked at the dark circle under his left eye, “A little tired but still gorgeous…” he was very glad and yes, this man was vain.

 

“Hhhmm…” he rubbed his chin, noticing that hair had started to sprout from it. His eyes narrowed in annoyance. He opened the maroon cabinet before him and took a black razor sitting on the first partition adjacent to the anti-conception articles. He found the shaving cream on the lowest partition beside the toothpaste that literally meant smile. He grinned. He remembered the stupid jingle that went spelling the toothpaste's name. He closed the cabinet and lathered the cream up his chin and cheeks.

 

He thought about his activities for the day. There's Kingdom Come, Kingdom Come and oh! Kingdom Come. He was sick of this. Everyday, over and over… Somehow his life had gotten boring. He couldn't understand it either. Emptiness brewed inside him and he could not stop it. It wasn't supposed to be this way but it is. He was tired of the monotony. He held the razor with his left hand and shaved the stray hairs with a slow downward motion, beginning at the middle of his right cheek.

 

In an instant, a potent burning sensation overpowered his left hand. A piercing scream erupted from his lips for in addition to the upset; he had accidentally cut a thin gash on his cheek. The razor dropped to the floor. He felt as though his hand was on fire. He reeled feverishly unable to bear the blazing heat emanating from his left hand. He let out another earsplitting scream. He cringed facing the floor. He was on his knees as his right hand grasped his left hand. His forehead touched the fully tiled bathroom floor. He struggled to look at his seemingly flaming hand as the pain continued to engulf him. Then he saw it, the mark he so skillfully hid under the huge dragon tattoo on his left arm. The back of his left hand no longer bore the ugly face of the black dragon but a figure whose center bore three bent branches radiating outwards ignited of red light. He screamed for the third time, unwilling to succumb to this pain. After which he glimpsed a set of familiar green eyes, eyes that could only belong to one person… his inamorata but before he could speak the eyes vanished. A wave of power washed over him.

 

He felt strengthen suddenly. The pain was gone. He found himself crouching on the white floor. Droplets of his blood sprayed below him. The cut was not deep but it still bled. He was breathing hard and his heart was racing. What the heck just happened? He sat up and examined the mark. It remained visible, no longer burning red but black the way it was since he was born. It seemed as though it was tattooed over the dragon's face.

 

“Dragon, are you hurt?” “Please open the door…” he failed to hear the terrified cries of a woman from the other side of the door. He blinked and touched the mark. Nothing… He stared at his hand blankly. He could not comprehend what just happened.

 

 

“Dragon…” a blond lady called helplessly as she leaned on the lime green plastic door. Her hair was long and it reached her waist. She wept in terror. One minute Dragon was screaming like crazy but now he fell silent.

 

“Shut up!” another lady snarled as she got out of bed and she stretched out her arms. She had boyishly short red hair and she wore only her undergarments like the blond who stood by the bathroom door.

 

“But he was screaming…” Blonde was anxious. “Dragon… Please…” she pleaded and placed her ear on the door. Still she heard nothing.

 

“Well he isn't screaming now…” Red head shot back. She hated the fact that blonde was too gullible.

 

“I—“ Blonde was about to reason out but the door swung open before her.

 

Dragon walked out of the bathroom. His chin was fully shaven but there was a purple medical plaster on his right cheek.

 

“Dragon!” blonde exclaimed.

 

He was gobsmacked. “You are?”

 

The two ladies stared at him in disbelief.

 

“You're kidding.” Red head blurted out.

 

“No…” he replied truthfully.

 

“You really don't remember?” asked blonde.

 

“Not at all.”

 

“Last night… bar… three of us…” red head gave him the keywords.

 

Great. Dragon looked from the red head to the blond. He frowned. He couldn't recall anything from last night. He shook his head. “Sorry ladies. Last night was much of a blur.” He said and went straight for the disarrayed bed. Now I have to find a new condo. Great. He kneeled beside the bed and pulled a gray suitcase from under it. Cerigo, this is all your damn fault. He shouldn't have allowed this to happen. He started his monologue.

 

He sat on the edge of the bed and placed the suitcase on his lap. The suitcase flipped open, revealing a box of 9 mm bullets, several gun magazines and two semi-automatics. He took out the two handguns and heard the women gasp. “No worries.” He said without looking up to them.

 

They were horrified. They really didn't know who he was. They thought he was just some hot guy in for a one night stand but as they watched him now. The way he gracefully removed and placed a fully loaded magazine for a spent one sent shivers to their spines. They didn't dare move.

 

Red head gulped. She gazed at him as he reloaded the two guns. She realized that last night, she found him sexy for he seemed mysterious and dangerous but now she knew that he was dangerous. He was dangerous enough to cost her, her life.

 

The moment he snapped the second gun's magazine into place, he looked up at them. The two screamed in alarm. His eyes were so fierce and intimidating. They thought he was about to kill them.

 

Dragon laughed heartily. The hint of malice disappeared in his bright eyes. “I'm not going to hurt you…” he stood up and tucked the two guns accordingly on his waist. He glanced at them but found no solace in their faces. They don't believe me. What the hell… It doesn't matter. He grabbed the blue shirt that was dangling on the head board. He hastily put it on.

 

“Just… just who are you?” red head spoke up.

 

Dragon was amazed. She was brave to ask such a question. He smirked. “Best that you never know…” his voice insinuated malevolence.

 

Red head trembled on her feet. Every inch of her body was telling her to get as far away from this man as possible.

 

“I don't want to die!” Blonde yelped. Her eyes became swollen as she cried helplessly.

 

Sheesh. Dragon ignored her. He opened the bedside drawer. He grimaced when he found nothing there. “Where is my key?”

 

As if on cue, a series of loud knocks made the girls jump to their feet. Blonde halted her tears.

 

Dragon narrowed his eyes. Who can this be? The knocks continued, louder and more impatient. He eyed the red head to answer the door.

 

“Who is it?” she stammered but there was no reply only the constant angry bangs on the door.

 

Dragon gestured for her to open the door. He was ready to pull out his guns anytime but the truth is he felt no sign of danger. He had a feeling that whoever this person was he did not need to use his weapon.

 

Red head slowly made her way to the front door. Her mind raced. That person could be anybody. He could be as treacherous as Dragon. She was scared for her existence.

 

When she turned the knob, the door flung open. A lady in a polyester white jacket came barging in. She glowered at the sight of the two scantly clad women. She turned her blue eyes towards who she sought for. “Dragon.” She hissed with pleasure.

 

He shook his head and snatched his brown leather jacket from the floor. “I'm leaving…” he declared.

 

“Really now…” the blue eyed visitor jeered. She raised her right hand. A sparkle of silver caught Dragon's attention. She jingled the specially cut metal. It was Dragon's lost car key.

 

“How did you?” he failed to finish. He couldn't begin to think how she got hold of the key to his car.

 

“You were pretty spent last night. It's also what you get for choosing them over Me.” she turned to the speechless girls. They were huddled together, cowering by the corner of the room by the small window.

 

The blond was crying again, this time on red head's bosom. They reeked of fear and she savored it, fed upon it. She found nothing beautiful about them. Surely they were just another batch of Dragon's random affairs but she envied their luck. She loathed them. Then red head met her eyes with such a bold stare.

 

This set her off. “Bitch!” she pulled out a semi-automatic, exactly like the two Dragon possessed.

 

“Vedette!” Dragon grabbed her hand but it was too late. She already fired a shot. The two girls screamed in horror as they both ducked.

 

The bullet flew through the window. The glass pane shattered to pieces. Blond cried even louder as she remained face down on the floor. Red head was shaking all over. She didn't dare look up. The lady hated her for some reason. Silently, she wept.

 

Vedette was laughing. She was better than them. She was stronger than them. She had power over them. They were weaklings, mere trifles of people. “I won't miss next time. I tell you, stay away from my Dragon!”

 

“That's enough Vedette.” Dragon's commanding voice was heard. He gave her a warning glance. “The two of you, stay down!” he said to the girls.

 

They said nothing and obeyed.

 

She hesitantly kept her gun and tossed her wavy black hair.

 

“What did you do to my convertible?” he asked and faced her to him so she would not see the ladies. That was a close call. He didn't need dead bodies in his condo but then again he was leaving for good.

 

“Just took her for a joy ride. It's still in one piece.” She smiled triumphantly after winning his full undivided attention.

 

He wanted to punch himself on the face. He was stupid enough to leave his beloved car in the paws of Vedettte, who would most likely drive it in the ditch if she had the chance.

 

“So you were leaving?” she asked casually walking nearer. “You want it? Come and get it?” she flashed the car key before his face.

 

Without hesitation, he grasped her hand and pulled her to him. She crashed onto his chest. He then kissed her squarely on the lips. This meant nothing to him. Just one of the things he had to do.

 

Soon enough, she loosened her hold on the key as she tasted his lips.

 

He instantly drew back when he got the key. He smiled widely. “Thanks.” He said and ran off and left her lingering.

 

“Hey!” Vedette ran after him. He cheated her entirely.

 

 

“I told you. It's fine.” Vedette said matter-of-factly. She stood beside Dragon. Her hands were in her polyester coat's pockets. The cool autumn breeze tossed her hair. They were on the meter-wide cement sidewalk by the driver's side of the parked black convertible.

 

Dragon closed his eyes and sighed. His car appeared okay. There were no broken windows, no scratches and no flat tires. He could scarce believe that Vedette didn't do anything to it to purposely wound him. She knew how much he prized his automobile. His gut spat distrust but his eyes scrutinized every inch of the vehicle already and found no apparent damages.

 

A risqué hand clasped his shoulder. “I told you. I just took it for a joy ride.” Her voice low as she turned him around to face her. Her gaze was inviting.

 

He shook his head and gently pushed her away. He did find her mesmerizing but he knew better than be played into the hands of a fox like Vedette. “Okay. Thanks for bringing it back.” He turned his back on her and focused his attention to the convertible.

 

“Where are you going this early anyway? As if—“

 

“Kingdom Come.”

 

“Come on Dragon—“

 

“Kingdom Come.”

 

“Fine. Fine. I'm a no show today.” She finally got the idea.

 

“Thank the gods!” he tossed his arms in the air, relieved.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Good luck.” She snorted and walked off uptown.

 

He got in the car and looked inside. The bare dashboard was free of lint and decoration a normal car would have. Dragon liked his car simple and clean. His car was one of the only two things he always remembered to keep clean. The other, of course, is his trusted artillery. He was pleased to see it was as he left it. He was starting to feel guilty for not trusting Vedette. He realized that in real, he knew nothing about her other than the fact that she worked for him and wanted him quite badly.

 

Dragon turned the key for ignition but the engine gave a harsh roar and went dead. “The heck!” he cried out. He tried to start the engine again but it only purred. He glanced at the fuel gauge and found the cause. The white arrow settled at the red area pointing at the big E. “Shit!” he slammed his hands on the steering wheel. “That bitch!” he yelled out. He should have believed his first instinct. He gritted his teeth and tried to think up a solution.

 

Dragon needed to leave soon. “Vedette!” he cursed and slammed the car door after he let himself out. “You're gonna pay for this.” He took out the cellular phone from an inside pocket of his jacket and made a call to the nearest gas station. “I need you to pick up my baby here at Wicker Street. Wash it up. Fill the tank and make sure it's perfect. I'll pick it up later at around 7 o'clock.”

 

Immediately after, he dialed another number.

 

“Cerigo! Why the hell did you let me go home with those chicks? You know how particular I am about the condo. Now I have to leave and Vedette; why did you let her take my car? She totally wasted the fuel man!”

 

“Hey slow down. You're the one who gave Vedette your key, talk about drunken master. As for the girls, you were all over them in the bar. I had no choice but to bring you home given you whole heartedly gave your car to Vedette. She seemed pretty pissed too when she saw you with the girls.” A man's voice on the other end croaked.

 

“Figures why she sucked the tank dry.”

 

“You better get you ass here in thirty minutes. You can't bail on me Drake. I'm not facing up to the brotherhood without you. You're the goddamn founder after all.”

 

This assembly was truly urgent and hearing Cerigo call him by his real name reminded Dragon of the gravity of the situation. Dragon paused to think. “I'm taking the train.”

 

“What? Dragon, that's suicide.” The voice was clearly upset.

 

A smile escaped Dragon's lips. “I'll be fine, MOM.” He stressed the last word.

 

Cerigo sighed, realizing his unreasonable action. “Dragon, you know you can't risk exposure. York has been hot on your tail for the past few months now.” He spoke slowly now.

 

“Hot on my tail? He hasn't even found my condo yet and I'm just about to leave.”

 

Cerigo grunted. “Why don't you just steal a car? It would be easier that way.”

 

“No. I still refuse do stuff like that Cerigo. I'm taking the train. Dragon out.” He said and folded his phone shut. He hid it in his jacket and walked towards the train station that was only a block from his former condo.

 

Dragon walked briskly. He didn't have much time. He looked left and right as he crossed the intersection. When he cleared it he looked back and gazed at his condo from afar. It'll be the last time I walk these streets. He breathed in deeply and savored the fresh air. A halcyon neighborhood, a rural subdivision by the edge of the city… what more can you ask for? Insofar, Dragon believed this was the best place he acquired but times have changed. He couldn't stay after the racket with the girls and Vedette. There was not turning back now.

 

He left some money and all his things in the condo. He believed they were enough to pay that month's rent. Dragon didn't bother speaking to the landlady. She would find out eventually given the girls were still there as well. He felt sorry for the women, who became victims of Vedette's viciousness but even more he felt sorry for himself. He had no place to go again. In fact, he has been homeless for a long time. His face fell as the sorrow brewed inside him but he was fast to put his emotions in check. Dragon had no time to lose.

 

 

Dragon reached the landing and found the train station almost empty. He surveyed the area and spotted the singular obstacle. A bunch of security guards were frisking all who attempted to enter and a brown greyhound lazily rested by the start of the stairway. Dragon's eyes brightened. If he could get passed the guards, everything else would be a breeze. It wasn't like he was carrying a bomb to even care about the bomb sniffing pooch.

 

He stopped walking, lit a cigar that he took from his leather jacket and assessed the situation. There were four guards: three male and one female. The first guard was short but tough-looking. He stood beside the lazy greyhound. The second was female and she was by the entry way that bore a big sign saying `Female”. She looked meticulous and smart with that condescending look on her face. Thank goodness. I am no woman. The third sentry had dominant eyebrows, fluffy mustache and a fat belly. He was obviously the supervisor. He sat on the stool in between the lady and the last person. The fourth and last sentry was skinny and tall. He stood beside the `Male” sign and struggled to keep his eyes open.

 

Dragon smiled. He tossed the cigarette and crushed in under his heel. He eyed his target and traversed their distance until they finally met face to face.

 

The last guard was not looking at him. The supervisor called the attention of the lady guard and they conversed.

 

Just my luck... The skinny guard was just about to place his hands on Dragon's waist when Dragon spoke in a low tone so only the skinny guard could hear it. “If I were the knight and champion dragon slayer of Aesir…”

 

The guard's bloodshot eyes shot at Dragon's face.

 

Dragon was smirking. He exuded confidence.

 

The guard buckled and looked at him with mixed terror and awe. Sweat broke through his forehead.

 

“Well…”

 

“Then - then here is the scribe with the destiny to serve the empire.” He could hardly choke out as he stepped out of Dragon's way. Interpreting the cipher, he figured that this man was none other than the infamous Dragon. Despite being only a knight, he was feared and lionized by every affiliate of Kingdom Come.

 

“Well done, Destiny.” He replied happily and waltzed right in. He climbed the steps rapidly, remembering to side glance at the tough-looking guard. He found the guard staring elsewhere. Dragon laughed secretly. At least last night wasn't a complete waste. He did after all recognize Destiny from last night's function.

 

Dragon proceeded to the automated vending machine with a wide smile. Buying a magnetic card was easy enough although it became embarrassing when thirty eight pieces of one dollar coins started to drop noisily in the slot for change.

 

“Mister.” A boy called after him when he walked away. He meant to remind him of his boisterous change.

 

“Keep it.” He got an issue of the free paper ran for the train station, stepped inside the gray train and settled in one of the many empty seats. He looked around. The train barely hosted twenty people. It was in fact almost ten in the morning and a non-peak hour for the station.

 

Dragon realized that this was his first time to ride the railway train here. After five months of staying in the neighborhood, which is pretty long for his lifestyle, he always took his car and never did a train ride come to his mind.

 

His eyes fell upon the back of his left hand. The birthmark was so visible like it wanted to be seen. Dragon shivered. He could still remember how it burned with red flames. Such has not happened before. It was just an ordinary mark. A blemish he wanted to hide from the criticizing eyes of the public. He banished his doubts. What is important is that I am alive. Surely, there is some logical explanation.

 

The train door closed slowly. He sighed, parted his paper and scanned for sensible articles.

 

 

With warning, the train doors opened. Passengers rushed in. Dragon read the newspaper full of interest. He found an article about a movie based on a computer game. He had his left heel on top of his right knee. He sat contentedly until someone drove him sideways and he was forced into the corner seat. He lowered his newspaper and saw an old lady with big bulging eyes snarling at him.

 

“Get your foot down, sonnie.” She growled and squeezed herself beside him.

 

Only then did Dragon realize that the train was almost filled. He snorted and planted both his feet firm on the ground. He threw the old lady a dirty look but she had fallen asleep.

 

He frowned. He was ready to continue with the article when he abruptly turned towards the door. A terrible feeling overcame him. Heck. Then his left hand hurt. It was the mark again but it was not burning. He felt as though a million needles were continuously stabbing at it. Dragon struggled to keep composure. The pain was neither unbearable nor negligible.

 

Subsequently, Dragon saw the reason for his alarm. A tall man of short straight blue hair headed towards the door nearest to him, the door adjacent to the seats across his. He wore a black trench coat and a big shiny wrist watch. Dragon could have recognized that figure for miles.

 

“York.” Dragon spoke as though the word itself was poison.