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06/06/2020 03:29 PM
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Starter | Wake-Up Call
WAKE-UP CALL
It wasn't until the scattered rays of morning light inching across Christoph's face reached his eyes that he finally began to stir from a long night of restless sleep. In a daze, he rolled over and blindly swatted at his bedside table. After shuffling through old discarded mail his hand bumped against something cold and heavy the left a metallic thud when it hit the hardwood floor. Unfazed, he resumed his hunt, doing the best to identify the things within arm-reach without needing to resort to the inevitably painful task of peeling back his hangover-laden eyelids. There was an unfamiliar keychain, his wallet, and… yep, there it was. His hand finally closed around a chipped Samsung Galaxy. A couple generations old at this point, but passable. By now Christoph's eyes were half open as he returned to his side and tried to adjust his vision to the screen's low brightness... Or, any brightness? He blinked a couple times and brought the smartphone closer to his face with squinted eyes.
"F***"
Muttering swears under his breath, Christoph nearly threw the phone across the room. Fortunately for the phone, his lackluster recovery from last night’s escapades and a body beaten to hell to hell and back ensured cooler heads prevailed. As he rolled across the bed yet again, he let out a low groan in anticipation of what lay ahead. With one arm draped over the edge of his mattress he shuffled further on his stomach to graze at the floor with his fingertips where he began to feel around for his phone’s charging cable. While he searched his fingers brushed against a familiar steel barrel and paused when he reached the small trigger guard at its far end. “And that explains that noise. Thank f***in’ god that didn’t end any worse.” The thought was fleeting; vanishing from the forefront of his mind a fart in the wind. After a couple minutes passed Christoph signed and dragged himself from the warmth of his gray overstuffed comforter.
Naked except for last night’s deep blue boxers, he scanned the floor for any trace of his phone’s wired charger hidden among piles of dirty clothes and other forgotten belongings strewn about the room. Each step against the old hardwood planks echoed slightly throughout the empty row house as he searched in quiet determination. It didn’t take long before his search began to feel like an exercise in futility and Amazon or Best Buy were about to score another $40 from his bank account – they almost felt like bigger thieves than he was at this point. His eyes wandered toward the window as a hand gripped the wooden sill and its peeling white paint. There were more than a few people milling about on their way up and down the city sidewalk under fresh canopies of green… it was certainly bright enough that he must have slept most of the morning away.
He shoved the blinds shut and was about to take one final stab at finding his phone charger when a knock sounded from his front door downstairs. Racking his brain, Christoph tried to recall whether he had made plans the previous night to see anyone this morning. Was it possible he pissed someone off last night? Were the consequences of some recent endeavor finally about to rear their ugly head and bite him in the ass as his friends (if he could call any of them that) so often warned him? Even as he descended the stairs, he couldn’t quite place the events of his night out. The best he could do was peer through the peephole in the front door to see who was waiting on the other side.
And yet staring back at him he found… nothing. Sheer black nothingness was all that waited for him on the other side of his door. Now obviously time and space didn’t rip recently – he knew that much from his glimpse out the window minutes earlier – so the only other reasonable explanation remaining was that Christoph had a visitor who seemed unmistakably intent and familiar with showing up unannounced. He looked down at himself, still wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Had he been thinking rationally, Christoph may have grabbed a robe, thrown on a pair of pants, or realized he had a better chance of enjoying his Saturday if he just pretended nobody was home. As fate would have it, this was one morning where he would do no such thing. Liquor: 1, Christoph: 0.
The door pushed outward a crack to reveal little more than Christoph’s head, at first. The only clues to his current attire (or lack thereof) were the unkempt hair atop his head and the bare shoulders he was unable to hide while leaning through the gap in the door.
“Yes, can I help you?”
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05/31/2020 09:13 PM
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Unexpected Encounters | Open Starter
UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTERS
Nah, f*** you man. F*** outta’ here with that sh*t.”
Waving off the man with a scowl, Christoph turned back toward the bar and continued to swear under his breath. Black-booted feet kicked up a bit of sawdust off the dark hardwood floor with every shuffled step amid a sea of idle bodies. As he passed a group of yuppie-lookin' young 20-somethings Chrishoph cast a sideways glance at the beers in their hands and the laughter that spread from mouth to mouth like a fast-acting air-born contagion. For as long as he’d been coming to this bar people like them had slowly been taking it over night-by-night in droves of pastel dress shirts, high-waisted jean shorts, and layered open flannel button-downs. Fewer locals came through anymore, pushed out by these fresh college grads and NYU students that had somehow discovered one of Christoph’s regular haunts.
F*** ‘em.
Christoph’s shoulder collided with one of the men and he barely turned back to offer anything more than an unforgiving shrug. More upset with the growing stain over his breast pocket, it took the young man a few extra moments before he thought to look around for the man that ran into him. Fortunately, a few moments were all Christoph needed to pull up the collar of his leather jacket up above his neckline and disappear back into the shifting crowds that filled the dimly lit space. .
After a few strides and one more glance over his shoulder Christoph confirmed he’d lost the group and changed course to take up residency on an empty bar stool just as a couple pushed signed check across the bar’s polished wood countertop. In a swift motion he pulled the black leather jacket from his shoulders and draped it over the empty seat next to him at the far end of the counter. It wouldn’t hold off people for long, but it was worth the hassle in case his ex-girlfriend managed to show after all or a more eligible lady came around looking for a seat by herself. Drumming his fingers against one of the woodgrains in front of him Christoph couldn’t decide which he’d prefer. Either way, the trap was set; now there was nothing to do but wait and see where the night would lead.
Previously hidden under his jacket as a strong contrasting color, Christoph’s vanilla-yellow button-down now took front stage and screamed for attention with an array of black, white, blue and orange floral patterns. Hanging from the V at the center of his chest was a pair of matching orange tinted gold aviators that had long outlived their usefulness now that night had overtaken the city. For as much as he knocked on the millennial crowd that filled his bar, many would probably be forgiven for mistaking him and his slicked back crop of hair as part of their ranks. Maybe not by him, but certainly by any casual onlooker at the very least. .
Taking a moment to lock eyes with a familiar bartender and give the man a curt nod of his stubbled chin Christoph was already fishing a black leather trifold wallet from the back pocket of his equally dark jeans. Two fingers flashed in the air followed by a single finger once his nod was returned and the wallet returned to his pocket one twenty-dollar bill lighter. Within the next couple minutes there were a pair of amber-colored shots alongside a tall golden hefeweizen. Reaching for a shot first Christoph tilted his head back and raised the short glass to his lips in a single swift motion. A later start to be sure, but one Christoph wasn’t about to squander.
The twinge of smoke bit at the back of his throat behind the burn of cheap well liquor even after the second glass was emptied and thrust down against the counter. Exhaling, Christoph grabbed for the frosted pint next and turned his attention upward toward the deep wood racks stuffed with bottles of every shape and labels peppered with dozens of different color and fonts. His eyes continued to climb past the chalkboard next listing out the current beers on tap and ultimately settled on the exposed rafters overhead. Polaroids, pen-scrawled notes, small mementos, and other snapshots of lives recent and old filled the space. Decades of history overlapped to create layers of stories that would never be told or remembered, but still managed to weave one unifying tapestry anyone could appreciate. Cold beer filled his mouth while foam pooled against his upper lip and he searched for his own contribution. It felt like a distant memory now loaded with plenty of conflicting emotions, but for all the pain it brought him he couldn’t bring himself to cut it completely out of his life.
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09/07/2019 06:53 PM
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Flashpoint - Extended
Flashpoint (Extended)
The men jumped Christoph on his way home; three of them, as best as Christoph could remember later. Two to pin him down and the one he stole from holding a knife to his throat. Hasty bargaining was enough to free his arms, but not enough to walk away. It was sickening, but as he handed over his winnings from the night and urged for mercy a strange sensation seethed beneath his skin. Like a storm churning the sea his muscles seemed to be tearing themselves apart and reforming throughout his entire body. Christoph’s first instinct was to collapse on the ground and writhe in pain. The move left his assailants confused long enough to open a brief window of escape trigger a second, far more powerful instinct to kick into gear. Scrambling to get back on his feet, Christoph took off down the dark sidewalk and peeled around the corner onto an empty street.
Nearly doubling over in pain from the fire that still coursed through his veins, all Christoph could think of was the police officer he nearly dodged on his way out of that night’s backroom poker game. “Where the f*** are you when I actually need ya?” flashed like a spiteful whip behind the searing pain of Christoph’s temples. It was escalating, spreading, to any untouched corners of his body; if there were any even left. As he braced himself against a storefront to catch his breath and accept his fate a jolt struck his forearm that made the rest of pain almost fade away by comparison. Surging up along his arm and ripping through his tendons it quickly fanned out across his back to engulfed his entire torso before claiming his head and remaining limbs while Christoph’s vision began to fade under the strain.
And then it was gone. Completely. Steadying himself and stranding upright Christoph made out the voices of his assailants approaching behind corner he had just rounded moments earlier. Pain may have slowed down time to an agonizing crawl, but now that it was gone things were moving faster than ever. As soon as the men came back into view, three increasingly unexpected things happened quick succession. First, where Christoph expected to be met with anger all three of the men’s faces fell into a state of shock. Second, the knife that was previously inches from his neck fell to the ground in a clatter of steel and concrete. Third, each man turned back the way they came faster than they’d arrived.Left alone on the sidewalk in the dead of night without his wallet or a clue what the hell just happened Christoph turned to the dark store window at his side. Staring back at him was a reflection of the policeman from earlier that night. When he turned around to face the officer and thank him directly, however, there was no one to be seen. And yet when he looked back into the mirror, so did the officer. At the same time both he and the reflection silently mouthed the same thing; “What… the f***?” A ripple cascaded down from the officer’s brow in the window and as Christoph watched the reflection slowly transform back into his own face. A quick glance downward revealed the same change happening across the rest of Christoph’s body where the fabric of an officer’s uniform tore and folded into itself along a shallow, fast-moving wave that revealed Christoph’s own clothes in its wake. Stunned silence hung in the air while Christoph turned his hand over in front of his eyes. “Well… that’s new.”
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