Chapter 1
It was meant to be a normal day, I swear that was the plan.
A decent morning, an average breakfast, and a quick little trip to the mall, nothing more.
So, where did things go so wrong?
"On your feet, Jason." His words were gruff, as he spoke while he stared me down, "Do not waste more needless time by simply complaining about your measly bleeding out, find another excuse,"
The only response I could think of was a cough full of blood.
My whole body flared up in pain, as my senses treaded the thin line of consciousness, while my eyes struggled to stay on the cloaked individual.
'Everything hurts,' I thought to myself, as more tears flowed and added to the river dancing across my face, while I ignored the urge to yell out about my pain or proclaim unnecessary profanities.
"It wouldn't work, and even if it did you'd be dead by then."
The cloaked man spoke, summarising the hopeless situation in an instant.
The only memories I could piece up before this were me strolling back home after battling the clerks for the best deals for my groceries, who knew that I would lose two battles in a row?
Calling the exchange before this was a battle would be a disservice.
A dark and conspicuous alley a few blocks before the home was where the cloaked man managed to drag me in forcefully, where any efforts to escape were futile.
And such efforts were met with simple violence.
I could feel his rough masculine fingers grab the hem of my top, before carelessly flinging me across the pavement, where my body forcefully met the red clay bricks, adding more bruises than I can even count.
'I'm so tired of this...' The thought rumbled into my subconscious seemingly from nowhere, as my body heaved out blood once more.
"Jason, listen to me and respond for the first time." The man said, as his black shoes treaded on the bright sticky red substance on the floor, barely showing any discomfort.
"Where is your father, Jason?" His words are straight and concise, each pause in his tone seemingly perfectly timed, "No lies this time...the blood on your hands was of your own doing, Jason."
The cold evening breeze paired with the setting sun was quite a beautiful sight, sadly something in me almost whispered to me it would be my last.
"I already told you, sir." The words croaked out, pushing past the raspiness of my words, "I don't know... the bastard left me to die since I was a kid."
"Are you sure?" He asked, an eyebrow quirked in confusion, "The great Jason Hart was a hero, last time I checked-"
"In whose story was that coward ever a hero?!" The words were ripped out of my core with such ferocity, throwing the cloaked man off completely.
Bloody coughs racked my body in response to my outburst, but my black orbs glared at the cloaked man the same regardless of me looking like a leaky faucet.
"Listen, your father made some bad business decisions and that's the only reason why I was sent here," He sighed, his mood irritable as he glanced out the alleyway, the night sky coming into full effect. "Any thoughts on his whereabouts?"
"Preferably in hell, but I have no idea where really." I spat out while dragging myself off the cold floor, hot spikes of pain pricked all over my body, while I inspected for damage control. My arms looked intact but were badly bruised with purple and red knots lining all over my body; in addition, the swirling flame of pain I felt in my lower abdomen could only mean one thing.
"I think you fractured a rib," I told him, as I staggered in place, my feet pleading for rest.
"Apologies, my boy" He responded, before pulling a white handkerchief to wipe the blood off his hands, "Even till now, I seem to forget how to hold back my punches,"
He stopped his cleansing halfway to look at me, his brown orbs the only facial feature noticeable, "Your fighting prowess surprised me, it seems you've been in a few good scraps here and there."
"Orphanages back in the day made for some good practice."
"Noted," He responded before glancing at his watch, "I'll sort out this mix-up and talk to my superiors, alright?"
A sigh left my lips, as my legs lost all feeling before I rudely crumpled to the floor, with a slight bang on the noggin.
"You're a bit too nice for a criminal," I told him, as my arms grasped my stomach in pain,
"Why of course Jason, I'm a businessman. " He stated, before looking elsewhere, "You know, you're oddly calm about all this?"
My shoulders sagged, as a deep exhale left my lungs, "Would you believe me if I said I'm a calm guy?"
"I won't, but I know how to respect a man's wishes."
"I'm also a man who deals with loose ends, I'll call for someone to patch you up" He spoke, his words without care, before moving out into the streetlight, "I was never here, right?"
"I got run up by some hoodlums and won," I recited my preconceived lie, a little smirk settling nicely on my features.
"Is who won necessary for the story?"
"Nope."
The man shook his head a bit, as he chuckled in disbelief.
"What even are you?"
"Just an average person, trying to live a simple life."
"Sure," He spoke calmly, but a sudden thought sprung up in my head that required more attention.
"Wait!" I called out desperately, throwing a lazy arm which flailed helplessly down my side, halting him in his tracks once more;
"Could you tell my grandma that I'm alright?" I pleaded, my tone holding a rare sense of vulnerability I rarely used, but truth be told it was my Grandma.
The only person in this cold world that I gave a damn about.
He sighed, shaking his head a bit, before walking off throwing a hand behind him in acknowledgement, "Noted."
And with that weird token of consideration, my consciousness finally slipped into black.
***
'Jason my boy how are you?'
Even in my dreams, the bastard of a father hides like the coward that he was, or maybe it's my subconsciousness searching for something that I didn't already know, perhaps a secret from my past.
Possibly, a reason why...
I remember being no older than a toddler when we spoke that day, the blue ocean glimmered under the sunlight with its crystal blue complexion, as the both of us sat near the bay. The waves danced without a care, as we sat without shoes on, quietly soaking in the best of what nature had to offer.
Nostalgia was a terrible emotion at times.
'I'm fine papa, just a little hungry,' My stomach grumbled in agreement, while I looked at the fishes in shame,
My dad chuckled in response, his large square shoulders bouncing, 'Don't worry my boy, we'll be having lunch in a bit.'
He told me while lifting his fishing pole towards me, almost in verification.
Even till now, his face has always found ways to elude me, and even my subconscious knew there was no need.
'Dad?' I called out, prompting him to lower his rod, his eyes still set on the cool sea, 'Why are you crying?'
If I recall correctly, the man in question had been sniffling for over thirty minutes, his eyes red as he stared at nothingness again.
'No reason Jason, I was just... thinking about your mother.' He coughed into his fist a bit, a pained smile gracing his face.
'You're always thinking about her,' I concluded out loud, as was the case; anyone who knew my father knew that such a thing was law.
'Women like her are simply impossible to forget, my boy.' His response was the same as always, independent no matter the format of the question.
'You'll understand when you get older.'
For a second the breeze blew by, a little omen in its way.
The calm before the storm, in a way.
'There's something I ought to tell you Jason, something you should know-' He started his arm reaching out to me, but sadly I never had the chance to hear the rest,
'Jason Hart, could you please spare us a few minutes of your time?'
The men in the dark suits and shades demanded, and the memory serving its course gave birth to an abrupt end.
My dreams have always been in the said form: brief and curt.
***
I could feel my eyelids fluttered for a while as the rays of light beamed rudely on my face,
"Ugh," A groan left my mouth inadvertently as I took in the unfamiliar white painted celling hanging over me.
Honestly, now that I think about it, it wasn't anything new.
"Good afternoon sir." A feminine voice spoke, knocking me out of my stupor, while I turned slowly to take it all in.
The walls stood as a mix of white and green coats of paint around me, with neat white tiles on the floor: The voice in question seemed to come from the nurse whose outfit bared the same color scheme as the room.
Her messy brown hair was held together in a hairpin, as she stood with a pen and brown clipboard at the ready, her brown fox-like eyes seemingly stared me down with interest.
With the slight bags under her eyes and lines of stress gracing her features, it wasn't hard to guess she had years of experience.
"You're finally awake," She spoke, her voice low as those eyes watched my every move.
Before I could muster a response a sharp pang of pain hit my flanks as I groaned once more, my arms precariously clutching my sides.
"Take some deep breaths, child." She chastised softly as she sped up her stride to my side, "When they brought you in, we wondered who could have possibly inflicted such dense injuries?"
I bit back another complaint, while I closed my eyes for a second.
"Damn it," I groaned to myself, memories from last night flooding my head with efficiency, that and a slight migraine.
A breeze wafted in from the open window, causing a shiver to run down my spine as I glanced at my clothing or lack thereof.
It seemed like a simple hospital gown would suffice for a patient like me, with a duvet; and I mean there was a standing IV drip by my left accompanied by a monitor portraying my vitals for all to see.
But we're talking about the key matter at hand.
"How long was I out?" I asked the nurse, my harsh black orbs narrowing in on her with intensity; yet she blinked in response before turning her attention to the clipboard in hand.
"Been here for about a week, son." Her tone unbothered as she read it off the paper, "Vitals seem stable, except for a few bruises here and there but you'll live."
"I thought I broke a rib?" I asked her, confusion laced in my words as I could have sworn that was the case.
"You sprained a muscle in your upper torso, though I can't say you were far off,"
With that, another long exhale soon followed, as I titled my head up to the white ceiling, the static monochrome colour distracting me from more pressing matters.
"Also you had a visitor, I mean she was the only one who showed up; I'm gonna bring her up now."
Her voice announced, before spinning on her heels, her shoes click-clacking all the way.
'I hate making her worry,' I groaned again for the umpteenth time, yet this one wasn't because of the pain.
"Jason!!" A soft elderly voice called out, the rise in her voice being one of concern instead of anger.
'This sucks.' I concluded my sulking to face the music.
For someone I call my Grandma, she was a tad too young for such a title.
There she stood in front of the door, wearing a white floral dress and a pair of blue jeans, slightly purple bags interrupted her attractive face, as her black orbs seemingly burned with unease.
Her black silky hair had been pulled into a messy ponytail held fragilely with a single pin, while her arms looked paler than usual.
'Damn it.'
Her feet seemed to flash across instantly as her arms pulled me in for her signature bear hugs.
"Ouch," I winced slightly, immediately prompting her to let me go while her hands scoured me once again, her mouth sputtering a long list of apologies,
"Are you ok?" She asked while keeping my head in place with her palms, her fingers gentle as those black eyes held me down in their stare:
Seemingly no matter how old I got, the honesty behind those eyes was just so overwhelming.
A cold dread instantly hit my nerves while I glanced elsewhere in shame, hoping I could avoid her piercing gaze, "I'm fine."
A moment passed before her instant pearly white smile graced her features, "Thank God for that, you hungry?"
If it was anyone else the answer would be an instant no.
"What you got?"
"Pie?"
"Yes please, then I'll tell you a story."
Her eyes did an eye roll, while a smirk formed on her face as she looked at me amused.
"What happened?"
"Three, no four hoodlums all run up on me-"
"I mean the mysterious man who handed me our groceries?"
An awkward silence filled the room, while I sighed once more.
"You know I won?"
"I know." She lied, her orbs sparkling in delight.
"Alright fine...we talked about dad, it's a long tale."
"We got time."
