The air was filled with the heavy scent of debauchery, deceit, and grief. It was just another night in the city of Corvus Bay. One might peer into the front windows of a home and find a family huddled together at a dining room table with a meal of scraps. Meanwhile, the abandoned home across the street could be sheltering a group of squatters muttering to themselves. That guy that just passed you on the other side of the street? He had his hands shoved into his jacket pockets to hide the fresh blood on them.
Just another night in Corvus Bay.
The only place within the Kingsley district untouched by the city’s filth was the park—well, mostly untouched, which is quite a feat. The playground equipment was free of stray syringes and predators, all thanks to Old Man Jones. He had the uncanny ability to bring people together for the better good. The old man was the glue in the community. He was tough with a tough exterior to boot. Deep down his outward crotchety nature was a guise to protect a deep and caring soul. Even the park benches were just that. That is, they were undisturbed most of the time by the homeless population looking for a place to sleep. As an added bonus even the majority of the park’s streetlights were working.
A small rain shower had just passed through the area leaving the walking paths just wet enough to weakly reflect the incandescent light of the streetlamps. Quietly, a man entered the park. He wore dark clothing and walked in a way that wouldn’t attract attention. His footfalls were soft and assertive as he walked the path to a nearby bench. Small beads of water that had splashed up from shallow puddles slowly dribbled down his shoes. The bench was damp from the rain, but not wet enough to soak through clothing if it were wiped down.
“The last quiet respite in Kingsley district,” the man said. A couple out for a late night stroll passed him several yards away, their eyes carefully watching him. Even in this park people had to be alert like anywhere else in Corvus Bay.
In a nearby tree a crow cawed as if to serenade its one-man audience, then flew away. It was no more than a second later that the distant wailing of sirens bounced off the district’s buildings and into the park. The sound of sirens was commonplace, but a Corvus Bay resident always had a sixth sense when it involved sirens that were within their area of living.
The man straightened his back and leaned forward from the bench. Odd, he thought. He couldn’t recall sensing or hearing any trouble on his way to the park. “And here I got it into my head that tonight would be uneventful.” Sighing, he stood up and headed toward the sound.
“Please! Everyone, you have to stand back!” an officer shouted in a futile attempt to keep onlookers at bay.
Concerned, a middle-aged man roughly in his forties worked his way up to the barrier. “That’s Jones! You don’t understand who he is to us! What happened?”
“Sir, please, you’re right, I don’t, but there’s nothing else we can do. We’ll be taking him to Corvus Bay General Hospital. If you’d like to see him please come to the hospital.”
The man from the park arrived in time to hear the conversation. “Jones?” he asked to himself. He looked around and noted the panic written all over the bystanders’ faces. He heard right. Something happened to the old man. Without a vehicle of his own and distrustful of the city’s cabbies and subway at this time of night, he had no other choice but to go by foot.
Finally at the hospital, he checked his cell phone after realizing he hadn’t looked at it all night.
(5) missed text messages, it read. First missed text:
(1) Hey baby, heard u were lonely. I…
Spam.
(2) pls am locked up in jail and need…
Scammer.
(3) Anders. It’s Jones. I got into a scu…
Jones never texted… ever. The old man was old fashioned and always called whenever he needed to get a hold of Anders, the man now standing at the Emergency entrance of the hospital. More concerned than he was just a second ago, Anders opened the text from Jones, selecting it more than once when it wouldn’t open faster than in half a second after trying to open it the first time. The glow of the phone’s small screen illuminated his face as he read the message:
Anders. It’s Jones. I got into a scuffle. at the hospital and will be transported to rm 516
It was well past visiting hours, but it simply wouldn’t be Corvus Bay if he walked in and someone actually enforced a rule. Eyes set on getting through, Anders walked with purpose to the nearest elevator that could take him to the fifth floor.
“Uh, sir?” a young woman’s voice piped up. Then, after observing the transgressing man, decided that it wasn’t worth it.
Ding.The elevator doors slid open and a janitor exited with his equipment.
"Going up," a recorded woman’s voice informed in a tone with subtle sensuality.
With the last bump of the janitor’s equipment’s wheels wobbling over the space between the elevator and the floor, Anders stepped onto the elevator and pressed the button labeled ‘5.’ He stepped back and leaned against the back railing. The doors glided closed.
horns. Giselle then.