The Anvil

The rain poured on, a monsoon pooled into the streets, the tidal wave of droplets dredging down the building’s windows, a reminder that Centrallica was a place of sunken dreams drug under its depths of rain and blood. The depths of which no one knew. The downpour fell over the corners, the neon poster boards and advertisements, the afterglow of the signs loomed over Nat's face, his hat casting a shadow at his feet, the water sliding off the brim to his feet.

The water pooled at his feet and stared reverently into his reflection, his smile no longer existed, he no longer saw his face just a mindless void of anger and disdain for it all. He stomped in the puddle, rippling its surface, he clenched his fist. He stared into his terminal, his eyes peeking up slightly at the building across from him. The front of the building read Magianno’s, a small italian joint, a cheaply green neon sign hung over its windows. The men in front of the building laughed heartily, Nat kissed his teeth. The information from Rodger was late and he was growing impatient, he only had one lead, he couldn’t do it on his own, it was bigger than him, he would die here if it meant giving Rissa and her family peace, she wouldn’t want that from him but he no longer cared what he want, he only wanted to sate his lust for dishing out the same pain he was feeling t another he slammed his fist into the brick next to him in frustration the sound ricocheted off the walls bouncing through the alleyway, the sound of cat screeching as it knocked over a trash can in a scurry. His terminal dinged. He yanked it from his pocket in a haste.

“Terminal read message” he said in a hushed voice. “Acknowledged” the terminal responded.

“Message from Rodger, at Maggiano's there's a regular named Ricky he’s the one who scheduled the hit on your friend through the local network. End Message” The terminal clicked off.

The rain picked up, the weight of Nats body seemed to fall off, he felt lighter, the neurons in him fired, he felt the blood rushing, galloping forward like the wild stallions over the free open range, the skin cooled as a smile came across his face, his eyes grew dark as he stared into the broken glass of a bottle that lay it his feet.

“Ah.” he said to himself.

He turned his eyes skyward the rain trickled down his cheek as the hat fell from his head exposing his face, it felt like a baptism he was slow to receive but he was receiving it now, the anguish, the guilt and pain came down from above,as the floods of the book Genesis came down on Noah, not as punishment but as a way to test his faith, his metal, his resolve, his fucking gumption. He laughed hysterically as he stared into the moonlight and neon afterglow that loomed above him. His heart raced. He smiled harder. He lit a cigarette, pulling a drag from it blowing the smoke skyward. He threw it into the puddle. His heavy boots stomped into the wading water of the iron jungle of Centrallica’s streets, he no longer felt weighed by his burdens, he felt free in his new found hate, his new found suspicions. It no longer mattered anymore, someone was going to give him answers or they would give him blood for recompense. His pa had always told him, that no matter what a man must stand on solid ground, a man must be willing to go toe to toe with the unknown to see his goals through, even if it meant through droves of bodies, waves of emotions, bundles of self doubt, loads of challenges, a man must go down swinging.

“A debt is owed, and it will be paid” he mumbled to himself as he approached the restaurant. His boot steps hit the pavement like the iron to the anvil, with authority and judgment. He drew closer to the men, lowering his gaze slightly as he fixed himself to speak. He spit out the after taste of tobacco to speak.

“Ricky around?” He asked plainly. The men looked toward him confused,unable to see his face under the hood he was wearing. The tallest man stepped forward, his chain swung from his neck, his suit was pressed, black pinstripe, his shoes brown leather with brown laces the color of his shirt unbuttoned exposing his jewelry underneath he towered over Nat. Nat looked up at him from beneath his hood. The man was a giant by all means, but for some reason this didn't bother Nat at all he chuckled to himself internally.

“Depends on who’s asking,” the man said with a thundering voice.

“I’ve come to ask about a contract” Nat responded.

“Who sent you?” He asked while reaching for his waistband, his eyes trained on Nat, the moonlight shone off the puddles in the street the steel, time slowed to a halt in Nats vision, maybe this was the only way it was meant to go he thought to himself, maybe without Rissa he just wanted to die and coming here wasn’t a means to get information but just to vent his anger, to do what all men inherently wish to do, to find a good cause and a good way to die.

Time was speeding up as his heart thumped in his chest cavity, the man yanked the weapon from his hip, the steel glossed in the neon light, the black obsidian smooth as glass the lettering etched into the side in bold print reading the words Glock. The water slid across the slide of the pistol, Nat's body was moving forward, his hand was now halfway towards the man, the rain droplets, came down heavier splashing to canvas of the sidewalk they stood on exploding like fireworks as they rammed into the concrete, Nat gripped the slide of the weapon, pulling the knife from his sleeve, running it through the man, the blood soaked his fingers as he felt the fleshiness of human skin in his hands, he gripped it tightly, his hand shook violently he grabbed it with his second hand twisting it. “Twist it” he echoed to himself. His pa had taught the proper way to mortally wound a man. The giant came thundering down with his weight over Nat. He gripped the pistol in the man's hand, yanking it away. Step one is complete, he said to himself.

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Gunpowder ignition lit the air, the other two men squeezing the triggers of their weapons as Nat stepped into the alleyway, the bullets tore the brick near him apart. His breath quickened, his blood screamed “Forward” he launched himself from the alleyway racking the weapon and firing hitting the leg of one and the chest of the other they came crashing down into the asphalt and rain. He stood in shock, he had just killed two people, he started hyperventilating.

Once again his blood screamed “FORWARD!” He sprinted towards the door of the restaurant. His body gave out on him two steps into it, he dropped to one knee, he ran his hand along his stomach he felt warm, the sensation of liquid squished between his fingers, his breathing becoming ragged. He sighed deeply. Fuck it. He sparked his lighter sticking into the wound. He bit the corner of his hoodie in agony. He steadied himself to his feet, sprinting forward once more, he threw himself through the glass doors of Magianno’s, glass flew bursting inwards towards the counter of the host.

All customers rose to their feet, Nat stuck the barrel of the pistol into the hostess stand using it to prop himself up, he studied the faces of the patrons, no one looked like they would be Ricky, he coughed trying to catch his breath, the room was still the tension hung in the air, the sound of plates scuttled about in the kitchen each of the patrons exchanging glances with each other then back to Nat, the waitresses cowering behind the counter to his right. He took a deep breath.

“I’m going to ask this once, where’s Ricky?” Everyone exchanged glances, a man in the back in a red suit bolted towards the backdoor, Nat jumping over the counter bolted after him, his body felt heavy, he felt like he had punctured a lung, Ricky burst through the kitchen doors in a haste Nat was running parallel to him through the kitchen pushing anyone who got in his way, Ricky pushed his through the backdoor, the iron steps clanked beneath him as he ran down them he slipped tumbling his way down the bottom four steps and into the rain.

He stumbled forward trying to get his feet under him. Nat rammed through the back door hurdling the first three steps landing in the middle, firing a round towards Ricky as he ran, his ankle exploded on contact from the bullet, he screamed in agony. He turned to crawl forward. Nat was heaving air, his walk was dredging his eyes trained on Ricky as he crawled through the mud and water staining his suit as he crawled. His feet felt like lead, images of Rissa flooded his mind, her voice sang in his ears like serenade it felt like her hands were around his waist urging him to stop here, to go no further, beyond this only lies damnation and a place to which she did not wish for him to go, he had understood this, but Mother Stone, he had given her his word and he had all intentions on keeping it, he clicked the magazine from the glock checking the bullet count.

He was out.

He tossed the gun deep into the sewer adjacent to him and it sank into the with a plunk, as he retrieved the switchblade from his pants pocket, he could hear Ricky’s panicked breathing as he neared him. Nat sighed a feeling of relief, he had caught him it was all over.

He stomped on Ricky’s back the air escaped him as he stomped, he gasped for air, Nat felt elation. Ricky turned to his back looking up at Nat who stood over him.

“What did I ever do to you huh?” He questioned in between gasps for air.

“What haven’t you done?” Nat questioned angrily.

“You hear about those girls we snatched from the lower district? One of your mother,sister,lover? He said tauntingly.

Nat knelt on his ankle.

Ricky screamed.

“What do you want?” Ricky screamed.

“Why did you send the hit on Shakk?” Nat asked, pressing down harder on his wound.

“Fuck!” Ricky screamed. Ricky laughed as he tried gaining his breath. “Look kid, it looks like your wet behind the fucking ears but I dont sell out my clients, it aint good business.” He laughed again. Nat plunged his knife into his thigh twisted as he pushed. Ricky gripped the gravel beneath his hands biting his tongue, his words escaped him , he could not gather nor words in his mouth he choked on them both.

“Why?” Nat yelled in anger.

“Since it looks like you're gonna die anyway, I’ll tell you if you let me go” Ricky said as he swallowed.

Nat paused weighing the options. He stood pulling his knee off of Ricky's ankle. Ricky leaned himself against the brick wall behind him.

“Kid, it's best to let it go, things only get worse from here, I’m warning you” Ricky said softly.

Nat steadied his feet, launching a hook into his stomach. Ricky gagged.

“Alright, fuck!” Ricky said doubled over in pain. He dug into his suit jacket pulling his terminal from it, opening it and scrolling through it.He turned the screen to Nat who snatched it from his hands, reading through the detail list. He scrolled and scrolled to no avail. There were too many names here, the amount of names and the depth of the list made Nat gag. Nat pushed the tip of the knife through his throat, Ricky's body went thudding to the ground. He reopened the Terminal and began with a keyword searching the name Shakk. Two message threads highlighted on the screen, one containing a document, one mentioning Shakks name and a meeting point at Euphoria.

He ignored that thread opening the document, the issuer’s name in bold lettering came cascading onto the screen slowly digitizing letter for letter the suspense building as each letter came in to spell. Nat dropped the terminal, he wretched throwing up over Ricky's body, his head was pounding, it couldn’t be that, he stumbled into the brick wall he couldn’t control his breathing, it felt like he was being kicked in the stomach. The Terminal dropped into the rain, the water gathering beneath it, he swallowed and sucked on air trying to compose himself. The neon backlight of the screen was turned towards him with the black bold letter of the name

Jon Tekla..