Served Alive
Prologue
The cobblestone sidewalk was trickling with the remains of the Sunday rain. Ash sat on the damp curb, a cigarette in hand, inhaling and exhaling, trying to keep himself from thinking. A small raindrop fell on Ash's nose, dripping down until it reached his lips, erasing the last taste of chap stick that remained on his lips.
Rain began to teem down, Ash's thoughts darkened as Thursday got closer with every second passing. A store owner closed his shop and made his way home. His stomach that has been empty since noon, beads of sweat on his forehead, and a look of desire in his eyes, hoping for a delicious dinner upon his arrival home. Ash scowled and threw his cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with his black worn down converse. He ran his fingers through his tangled, oily hair, and hauled himself up off the street curb. Unusually quiet for a Sunday evening which was mostly filled with drunk husbands parading around the streets, and troubled wives searching for lingerie to please the unsatisfied.
Ash fingered the gleaming steel knife in his messenger bag, dried blood still on the wooden ergonomic handle that Ash had become so familiar with, this past year. The knife that had put the infamous Ash Sumest on roster of who to call when someone's past their expiration date. His cell phone rang with the tune of bells.
"Mr. Chen."
"Harry Norbert. You'll be expecting a call from him in 5 minutes. Follow his wishes." The coldness of Mr. Chen's voice didn't affect Ash anymore than a kitten would be affected by the presence of a mouse. That had changed once Mr. Chen had consulted Ash personally in his office--the one place he never allowed employee's. Everyone in the company envied Ash for his special treatment, and interesting assignments in the business.
In exactly 5 minutes, a call from an unknown number was flashing on his phone. Ash immiediately answered.
"Meet me at the graveyard at 6th and Main. Quick as possible." The call was ended as fast as it had begun. but that's his job. Short phone calls, late nights, blood stained shirts, and silver steel knives.
"we're all blood thirsty killers"
Rain began to teem down, Ash's thoughts darkened as Thursday got closer with every second passing. A store owner closed his shop and made his way home. His stomach that has been empty since noon, beads of sweat on his forehead, and a look of desire in his eyes, hoping for a delicious dinner upon his arrival home. Ash scowled and threw his cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with his black worn down converse. He ran his fingers through his tangled, oily hair, and hauled himself up off the street curb. Unusually quiet for a Sunday evening which was mostly filled with drunk husbands parading around the streets, and troubled wives searching for lingerie to please the unsatisfied.
Ash fingered the gleaming steel knife in his messenger bag, dried blood still on the wooden ergonomic handle that Ash had become so familiar with, this past year. The knife that had put the infamous Ash Sumest on roster of who to call when someone's past their expiration date. His cell phone rang with the tune of bells.
"Mr. Chen."
"Harry Norbert. You'll be expecting a call from him in 5 minutes. Follow his wishes." The coldness of Mr. Chen's voice didn't affect Ash anymore than a kitten would be affected by the presence of a mouse. That had changed once Mr. Chen had consulted Ash personally in his office--the one place he never allowed employee's. Everyone in the company envied Ash for his special treatment, and interesting assignments in the business.
In exactly 5 minutes, a call from an unknown number was flashing on his phone. Ash immiediately answered.
"Meet me at the graveyard at 6th and Main. Quick as possible." The call was ended as fast as it had begun. but that's his job. Short phone calls, late nights, blood stained shirts, and silver steel knives.
"we're all blood thirsty killers"