Chapter 8 - The Greatest Liar Is The One That Tells The Truth
Despite everything, Pouria remained calm and collected as he drove with Vevlan and Osefin through the nighttime streets of Soulflare.
The night life was bustling, many men and women walked around performing debauchery outside of the various clubs and bars in the downtown area of the East Side. Various ruffians and pimps held women under their arms and walked together with other men in small groups. Not many people paid close attention to Osefin’s dark purple sedan as it passed through traffic.
From within the car, Pouria peered out at the lights from the various windows high above them. Not many had their curtains open, and Pouria knew that they lived in fear of those who were more powerful than them. It wasn't tyranny from the highest power in Soulflare that spread fear and chaos through the city; it was negligence, a silent beast. He knew it well. It affected him, even at his best, when he used to care about the city more than himself, when he gave everything to his job, he was blind to most things below the Crystal Canopy. No one man could see every crime, every murder, every sinner.
Some claimed otherwise.
"Tonight, the forgotten and downtrodden people of the city may be able to sleep soundly, and walk the streets a little safer in the morning." Vevlan said rousingly from the backseat. He was wrapped in a blanket as he leaned up against the window, not wearing a seatbelt. His form slinked away from the passing streetlights, their light flying through the car in a conveyor-like pattern. "Killing Thunder will get the government to notice that we mean business. It'll give the people some hope, maybe even turn some to our side."
"We don't have to kill him, you know? We can just… give him to the authorities." Osefin said softly, clutching the steering wheel as they stopped at a light. He’d changed out of his doctor's smock and into a warm plaid jumper and jeans that just barely fit him.
"Just for them to throw him back in another asylum?" Vevlan retorted. "Bud, I get that you are a pacifist, but this man is a mass murderer and a serious shitlicker. He once blew up a building with people inside just to record it and give it to the news. A terrorist like him will prolly get death row anyway. At least if we kill him, we make a statement about what we are here to do."
"Well, I for one won't be… stabbing him to death or whatever. I am a healer, not a fighter." Osefin replied nervously.
"Sure, as long as you are helping us get to him." Vevlan replied.
Pouria turned back from the passenger seat to look at Vevlan. "Hey, Vev." he began, suddenly stopping himself. "Can I call you that?"
"Whatever makes you happy, Mr. Mayor." Vevlan replied in a sarcastic tone, clearly not enjoying the nickname.
"Alright. Uh, I was just wondering…” Pouria sputtered, mindful now that Vevlan was the type to blow his top easily. “When you found me, you said that I'm 'radioactive' and that you wanted nothing to do with me. Did you change your mind?"
"I'm here for my interests. Helping you and the city is a bonus."
Pouria wanted to ask him what those interests were, but he remembered what his nosiness had gotten him before, so he decided to keep his mouth shut. The curiosity still remained within him though.
The car pulled up toward a tunnel, a long line of cars coming right up to the entrance. They all seemed to be stopped inside.
“For fuck’s sake.” Pouria sighed, trying to sit up to have a better look at whatever was holding up the cars.
“It’s the Stormcloud. They set up a border here it seems.” Osefin said. “Quite odd.”
A group of men in colorful masks and face paint were up ahead, standing beside a concrete blockade that they’d graffitied a multitude of fierce colors to draw attention. All of the men held cheap-looking, yet still deadly assault rifles, pulling people over and checking their identification and interrogating them rather forcefully.
“They’ll shoot us dead if we pull up there.” Vevlan said. “Those fuckers set this up after I went through here yesterday.”
“They probably operate it at night to defend their territory.” Osefin explained. “It’s probably not your fault.”
“Yeah, I gathered.” Vevlan replied coldly. “Any ideas to get through that don’t give us away?”
“I have an idea, but you may not like it.” said Osefin. “Hop in the back and crouch down. Put that blanket over the both of you. I can handle these guys.”
“Wait, you are gonna talk to them?” Pouria asked, surprised to see the doctor stepping up to this dangerous task.
“Yes Pouria, yes I am.” he said with a calm voice. He didn’t sound afraid at all. Pouria could respect the bravery, but he knew from first hand experience that bravery usually was close siblings with stupidity. They were twins in some cases; it was hard to tell between the two.
“Don’t get us all killed, Ibmoz.” Vevlan sighed, inviting Pouria into the blanket cover behind his seat.
“Don’t worry you two!” Osefin replied with a smile, looking back at the two of them as they squeezed into spaces so small that two adult men shouldn’t be able to even fit in them. Pouria couldn’t tell if he was hidden as the blanket fell over him, but he remained as still as possible, hoping nobody would notice his arched back quivering.
Minutes passed, the sedan inched forward, and Pouria’s body grew weak and tired in the cramped spot. He didn’t dare move, but multiple itches aroused an intense desire to scratch them, but for his arms to even move an inch, the rest of his body would have to move. All he could see was Vevlan’s unamused eyes in the darkness, staring right back.
He heard outside, commotion, cars turning around and driving back the other way, arguments, and he even heard a scream. He imagined they had moved up the queue quite a lot. Perhaps guards were staring straight through the windows at that very moment. He couldn’t tell. It only served to tensen his breathing, feed his fear, and keep him stalwart in his silence, but despite it, he felt the aching, the itching, and every possible reason to twitch and move.
Just as Pouria was about to give in and scratch his tingling nose, he heard the noise of the window being lowered and the sounds and smells of the tunnel bleeding inside, intermingling with the stuffy car’s aromas. He heard a conversation begin, a creepy voice outside greeting Osefin. “This is Stormcloud territory, mate. State your business or you’ll have to turn around.”
“Hello there!” Osefin began, his voice cheery and upbeat without a hint of fear at all. “I was just passing through to bring some chocolates to my fiancé. She lives on 706 Apertaker Drive, do you know the street? The one with all those little cafes? Such lovely scents of coffee every morning. Such a lucky woman that she gets to smell that every day! Thank you for keeping her and the neighborhood safe.”
“Anyone tell you that you don’t shut up?” the creepy man replied. Pouria tensened at the man’s hints of anger already showing in his tone.
“No, not really. I am just in a chatty mood tonight, gentlemen. Apologies if I offended you.” Osefin replied.
“Do you have an ID on you?”
“Of course I do! I wouldn’t drive without it.” Osefin said, making noises, sounding like he was rifling through the glovebox. “Here! Don’t hold it for too long, I get rather anxious without it!”
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There was a pause where Pouria assumed the gangster read over Osefin’s ID, and then he spoke again. “Yeah, seems legit. Why are you going over there at three in the fuckin’ morning though? You gonna bang her?” he said with crass words that made Pouria cringe. Osefin seemed so kind and innocent, it felt wrong to even hear that around him. That was even if Pouria knew the man was surely mature enough, and had gone to enough biology classes at medical school to know the human reproductive system.
“No, we are just going to sit on the couch and watch TV. I don’t see why my… Ehm… Sex life matters much, but I can explain more if you wish.” Osefin said, still sounding calm, albeit a little disturbed.
Another voice from outside spoke up. “We gonna search the car?” they said in a woman’s tone, though it was clearly brutish and un-ladylike. The words were ones that nobody in the car wanted to hear. They meant sure death.
A moment of pause and tension befell Pouria and Vevlan. He saw Vevlan’s eyes, they shot up with fear as a chill went over him. But what was the strangest, that Pouria didn’t catch in the moment, but eventually would realize; he felt the chill as well. It was deathly cold, like the catacombs of a cemetery. He could almost see a bony, misshapen hand upon Vevlan’s shoulder as the moment passed by into memory. But maybe it was just the ruffles of the blanket… Pouria couldn’t figure it out, and he didn’t really think to care.
“Would you like a chocolate?” Osefin asked the guards in an ever-collected tone. “You two deserve a treat for all the hard work you do. It’s crazy that you are out here at three in the morning!”
There was another pause. And then the original guard spoke. “Just let this fucknut through. Let his virgin ass watch B-movies with his bitch.” he said, sounding sick of Osefin. His plan seemed to have worked. Pouria almost let himself breathe a sigh of relief, but he knew it wasn’t over just yet.
There was some more rustling as Osefin seemed to collect his ID and return it to the glovebox.
“Thank you both! Have a lovely night.” Osefin said. “Perhaps I won’t be a virgin much longer, who knows?”
The car began to move forward, and Pouria could hear the sound of the window being rolled up. They began to pick up pace again and move normally. “It should be safe now. Just keep your profile low until we get there.” he said, and almost instantly, Pouria and Vevlan shot up from the floor and swiftly returned to their previous seats.
“Never heard you lie like that, Osefin.” Vevlan remarked.
“I am a pacifist, but I am not against a bit of smooth talking.” the doctor said. “But those hooligans… they truly disgusted me.”
“So, are you a virgin?” Pouria asked, a cheeky smile on his face.
Osefin remained silent for a moment as he focused on the road. “No.”
“You can stop lying now, Doc.” Vevlan said from the back. The three men had a quick chuckle at that. A natural, wholesome laughter.
Pouria remembered Kaino and Penove. He remembered how they would have chats just like this in The Smokehouse after work, how they laughed and joked even when Pouria got into office. Their friendship… He missed it dearly. It had been so long since he’d seen either of them in a situation that was peaceful and relaxed.
These two men in the car with him were worth trusting. Maybe neither of them were perfect, but Pouria knew that they were together for a common reason, the same reason that united Kaino, Penove, and Pouria so long ago…
The betterment of Soulflare Metropolis.
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Many years ago…
“That damn mayor thinks he owns the place. Look at him out there, walking around the ring and giving his speech.”
Thunder was a simple man with simple desires. He wanted to be strong, and so he did it. He trained and trained, and then he became the ‘Most Jacked Eighteen Year Old’ according to GZNN.
“I am just stronger than him. He thinks he can just challenge me to my own game? I almost feel bad for the doctors that’ll have to put him back together.”
“Weak, sure, but you have to lose to him. I cannot stress this enough, if you wanna make good with him, now’s your chance. But don’t get wiped either, I smell underestimation from you, boy.”
He wanted to become famous, and so he did it. He trained and trained and then he got accepted to try out as an amateur wrestler in Fight Loop Studio, quickly gaining popularity thanks to his inhuman body and charisma.
“Hahaha! No, not at all. He’s a politician, an insidious liar, all show, no action. And that maggot thinks he has a place in my ring? Hah!”
“My… ring. Don’t forget what you are fighting for. It has to look close, and you’ve gotta go down at the end. Don’t do anything stupid here or you’ll look like an ass in front of the media.”
He wanted to be a movie star, and you can probably imagine what he did next.
Everything in his life, built by his own hands with every ounce of machismo masculinity that he could muster. He was a star because he was willing to do things other people didn’t have the willpower to do. Magazine after magazine wanted to know how he got so strong, how he became so famous, how he made ‘Fallen Star’. His answer was always the same, single word: ‘Grind.’.
“I don’t like it… But whatever sells the merch I guess.”
“And be a good sportsman. Resolve your arguments after the match with a little speech, you’ve rehearsed it, right?”
“Yeah… but a public apology after I kick his ass just sounds so… sappy.”
Thunder was content with his existence, he didn’t want anything more, because he got it all. Everything he could've wanted through struggle and hardship. All that was left for him was to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his labor.
“Thunder. Your whole life is on the line. If you win this, you will be crowned a fool; you would have beaten the shit out of the damn mayor. Do what I say, and everything will work out. Do not ruin us both, boy.”
But then Pouria happened.
“I understand, Pops. Pouria will be one lucky man tonight.”
The stage lights never blinded him, not any more. He stepped out into the arena, the applause washing over him, backed by the din of thunder over the speakers beside the massive LED screens displaying his masked face backed by lightning. He smiled and waved, flexing his muscles as he always did. The routine pleased him, it was his life, he fucking earned it.
Pouria stood there, awaiting him in the ring. He approached, saying some cheesy belittling lines that sounded like something they would have argued about. It was all a performance, but a part of him pushed the performance to sound real, because it was him. He truly hated the man in the ring. He was a shameless liar, and he thought the lower class were too weak to save themselves? They need him to save them?! Ha! What an idiot!
And yet, they all ate out of his hand like chickens to a farmer. The lower class used to see him as a star, something to idolize, something to become, and yet Pouria pushed him down into the dirt. Even as a fallen star though, he would rise again after this. He knew he could, because he had done it by himself, he did it with the power of the grind. The people did not have to wait for a savior, because they could be their own savior.
But soon, Thunder would discover that some people couldn’t save themselves.
And he would need his own savior.