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And 34 more hiding and/or disguised

Just a hobby. The Mix is even darker at night.

PSA: The youtube links are supposed to be ambience music for reading. It is up to your discretion if you wish to do so. Causes some topics that might disturb you, the viewer, so caution is advised.

John Doe, unknown age, strangulation, pretty green eyes

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The loud music of the nightclub rang my ears. I wasn't used to this. The meds I had bought from PharmaSave two weeks ago were out, and I had no chy to buy any new. Did I even need them? Last meeting with Fromm, I was told that I was getting better. My condition was improving. Maybe I no longer needed to take these damn pills that I had been using since I was twelve. It had been fifteen years, now. I was a good man, a lawful citizen, and a nice lover for most of my life. Life in the Mix was tough, but I had a mona back at home waiting for me - and the usual running job. I had more, but that damn gunshot in my left leg never healed properly and I wasn't as fast as I was, once. The delayed deliveries had made my reputation worse and now I was running dry.

Feeling the last of the cheap vodka - which tasted like rat piss, by the way - drain down my throat, pleasantly burning it, I got off my stall. This crowd was giving me a headache. There were too many people, too many bodies, too much touching. I stumbled towards the exit, elbowing the drunk forms that tried to push me back into the swallowing mob of dancing bodies. This felt like hell - I wanted to go home, to my bed, to my mona. Just a few steps more and I would--

Then came the ringing, first. I lost control of my body, and a second later, a sharp pain on the side of my forehead caused my neck to snap to the side -- must have been an elbow. I crashed down onto the floor, flopping around like a dying fish, my headache amplified to unbearable levels from whatever it was that hit me. The crowd continued to move around me, dancing, the neon lights still managing to flash around my eyes even through closed eyelids. Trying to compose myself, I tried to sit up, only to feel something heavy press onto my chest - only to lift back off in a mere second. This must have been one of the clubbers, out of his mind, dancing around - and on top - of me. My breathing hitched, and my throat tightened, my head hurt and--

I opened my eyes to return to the real world. Thump. Thump. Thump. The music continued, the bodies were still there, and I was sitting on the ground a few feet away from the exit. The lights were suddeny blocked by a huge shadow - and I looked up to see the resident bouncer, 7'0 and with his shirt a size too tight for his chest, looking down at me. I could see his lips moving, dark eyes staring down at me, but I couldn't hear it over the music and the ringing still present in my ears. Shaking his head and realizing his efforts were futile, he instead decided on the easier route of telling me to fuck off - grabbing me by my arm, tugging me off the floor and pushing me out of the exit.

The streets of the Mix were no different than the club itself. Crowded, overpopulated and full of dirt. I decided to just keep my head down, pull my hoodie up and continue on my way back home without any further distractions. When I pulled my hoodie up, my hand felt slick. I looked down to see blood - my blood - from where that asshole in the club had hit me. The reason for this massive, annoying, frustrating, fucking headac--

I exhaled quietly, recounting what Doctor Fromm had instructed me. Count to ten.. clear my head.. exhale. I had done this so many times in my life that it was almost like a daily routine for me. It had gotten less useful since I had run out of my meds, but it still worked. It was nothing that I couldn't sleep off, anyway, so I started heading home in earnest. The thoughts, the sight, the smell, the touch of my mona slowly swirled into my mind, replacing my anger. I missed her so much. She was the reason that I had improved. My pillar that I could rely on. She laughed with me, and cried with me. I couldn't wait to see her again. It wasn't that long, just a few more minutes and--


I looked up to see the three bodies standing in front of me. Two held machetes, and the one on the front was just menacingly smashing his meaty fist against his palm. Thump. Thump. Thump. The crimson red tattoos across their neck.. I knew who these boys were - anyone who had been in this city longer than a week did - and I knew why they were blocking my way, too. I had gone through this many, many times. But.. this wasn't the time. I had to get home to my girl - she had been waiting for me, I had promised her, that I'd be there. I'd get home early, I'd bring her some Kung Pao - her favourite. My eyes twitched, my hands shook, and I felt my vision go red - just for a second. I brought my hands out of my pockets -- already curled into fists --

..and threw my final package of mRc to the frontman. That was my final pack - the only thing I could rely on without my meds were drugs - but it was worth it, if I could just get to her. With a soft smirk, they continued to talk, but I couldn't hear them. Not anymore. The only thing I could think of right now was my mona. I could not afford any more distractions, so I ignored their monologue, stuck my hands back in my hoodie, and bowed my head down and walked past them.

Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound of my boots crunching against the street sounded faintly like heartbeats - my own rhythm, and it was getting faster, and so were my steps. I was almost running now, barging through the bodies, my whole body trembling with need - what if she got mad at me? What if I disappointed her? If those gangers made me upset her.. made me hurt her.. I wouldn't--

"Spare some change?" asked a voice, and I felt a tug on the hem of my jeans. I was at the small alleyway leading right up to my shitty ass apartment and homeless pieces of drek always favoured it. I tried to keep walking forward, my ears ringing, but the PIECE OF SHIT wouldn't LET ME GO--

I turned to face the little worthless scum that was stopping me from getting to my girl, and gave him a kick with my good leg right in the ribs. I felt him gasp with the force of it - and at that moment, it was the only thing I could hear. My vision cleared up, no longer narrowed and I felt absolute clarity for the first time in my life. Without the meds, without the drugs, without her.. and I needed more. I wanted him to gasp more. So I gave him another kick - feeling the malnourished, already weak ribcage almost giving way behind the force of my steel-toed boots. Another gasp, another moan of pain - and my head stopped hurting. My body was no longer trembling, and with my hands no longer shaking, I kneeled down to wrap my palms around the man's collar and drag him up to his feet.

Blood was dripping from the corner of his lips, and I looked into those shining, emerald green eyes. I felt the tragedy, his entire life, in those eyes. This man was once a looker - handsome, rugged, a dream for any mona. Those striking features were now clouded with a dirty, unshaven, ROTTEN, disgusting visage. The crimson liquid gave a nice touch of color to what once was a dark raven colored beard, now entirely white. He reached up with one hand to grab onto my wrist, but I'd not let go. I saw the ring on his finger - once shiny, now nothing special - just like the rest of the Mix. So he had a lover, once. Someone who had abandoned him. Left him. My mona would never leave me. She loved me. She'd never let me go, not let me become a.. pile of drek, like this man.

I wrapped my hands around his throat, now, and squeezed.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I was right, it did sound like heartbeats. Distressed ones. In a state of panic.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

As I felt the rhythm beneath my fingers, never once breaking eye contact, I felt bliss. I did not enjoy the club music, but this was music to my ears.

Thump. Thump .Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

I felt release - as if all the anger, rage, frustration and worry had left my body. I squeezed harder, and harder, and harder - and those green eyes dimmed, the hands went slack and the body relaxed.


The orchestra had stopped - the play, over. The gasps no longer reached my ears, and those pretty eyes were now rolled up into the sockets instead of looking straight at me. I let go, and the body fell to the ground - crumpled, like a piece of trash, like garbage. Just one of many others strewn across the street. Without a second thought, I turned on my feet and left the body behind, walking straight into my apartment. I fumbled with my keys, my hands beginning to shake again - the moment of clarity, of peace, of bliss, was already gone.

But I had made it home, to her. Here I was. I closed the door behind me and yelled for my mona. She was not in the living room - had she already gone to sleep? Unslinging my backpack and taking out the plastic takeaway bowls that I had brought for her, I made my way to the bedroom, already undressing.

There she was. I saw her form in the bed, unmoving, on her back - that was her favourite position to sleep in. I smiled, and leaned over to give her a kiss on the lips, swatting away a few flies that were around the bedroom. Damn those pesky insects, always in the bedroom, always invading. Just last week I had to bring my mona into the shower to clean her off, and she had thanked me and rewarded me with a few hours of fun time in bed, but maybe she had gotten dirty again. I couldn't have that. I drew back, wiping away a few flecks of skin that remained on my lips from the kiss. Was she ill again? Her skin had been.. tight, across her features, stretched. It flaked off and it was worrying me - did she, somehow, get radiation sickness?

Yet she wasn't complaining. I didn't hear a single complaint - or well, anything at all, my mona liked silence - from her lips as I lay down next to her, twisting one of my arms around her shoulders and pulling her body close. Taking the plate in my hand, I opened the bowl and took a spoon full of Kung Pao. I pressed the spoon against her lips - but she wouldn't open. Ah - another game of hers! She wanted me to do all the work, as always. I took my other hand and pressed a couple of my fingers inside, and forced her jaw open. A 'crack' and 'pop' followed, but her mouth was now open and that was all I needed. I spoonfed her the entire bowl, watching her gulp it all down like a champ. It was her favourite, after all, and I knew how to please my mona.

Now with dinner over, it was time to sleep. I put down the empty bowl on the bedstand and turned to face my mona - wrapping both arms around her once again, pressing my face against her bosom and snuggling her form tight. She was cold, again, even though I had left her with extra blankets last time. Whatever, I'd warm her with my own body. If she was uncomfortable of the cold, she didn't mention it, so I guessed she, like always, was withstanding it. She was a warrior, like me. She had survived worse than this - like that time where they shot me in the leg, and her in the chest. I carried her home and laid her in bed, and since then she had stopped complaining. I mean, who would complain about some damn cold when you survived a .357 into the chest, right?

My arms wrapped tighter around her form and I looked down at the red stains covering her once white tanktop. They had dried long ago, and I never had bothered to take it off whenever we had our fun in bed. Must have been a couple of days ago when we had our wine date night. She was always clumsy, after all, with her hands. Even if she spilled it though, I loved her with all my being. She'd always be my mona, and she'd always be the one for me. I'd never let her go, and I'd take care of her - even if she didn't speak to me anymore.

Because that's what love is, isn't it?

I was sold at,

"..the gunshot to my left leg had never healed properly.."

I swear that I am never going to get tired of that meme being re-hashed.

That was really good
Oh no, my heart nearly skipped a beat when I realised – This was so beautifully written, you really captured the narrator's frame of mind. Amazing!