Fiction Series - LBGTQ


[Episode 1.1] [Episode 1.2] [Episode 1.3] [Episode 1.4]


Within the deep of night, three men search high and low for a young woman they were tracking. After months of watching her, waiting for a mysterious stranger to make contact, they grow frustrated with each city block they scour.  The leader of these men waves a loaded gun in the air towards his wearied companions and reprimands them.

“How did you fools lose her?”

“I dunno, Blane,” says one.

The other grits his teeth then hesitates. Frustration wins out, “It’s more like she lost us.”

“How would that happen? She had no idea we were coming you jackasses.” The boss man shook his head ran over to a concrete wall and thrusted his fist into it. Instead of breaking his hand, which most would have, he instead separated a brick from the wall. As it spirals onto the street, the other two men watch as it breaks into pieces.

“Sir. Calm down. We will find her,” requests the first man.

“Calm down? Did you just tell me to calm down, Tony?” Blane turns his gaze from the brick wall and focuses it on the poor bastard across the distance.

“I just mean… No need to…” A lump forms in his throat as the hulking leader’s shadow moves across the street. He exhales as the approaching menace holsters a firearm.

“You just mean, what? No need to, what?” Blane stood with his arms folded.

As Tony‘s hands shake violently, he looks up at Blane who is taller by almost a foot, and squeaks like a mouse, “Look. I don’t know what I was gonna say. I’m stupid sometimes, I just say things, ya know. I don’t mean anything by it. Please accept my apologies.”

Blane laughs manically, “Of course, we all make mistakes. Right? I should calm down. I shouldn’t be so upset by you. I need to take a break. Maybe, we all should take a break.”

“Right. That‘s a good idea, boss. Let‘s just cool off a bit.” Tony moves his head up and down as if to gain Blane’s agreement with a forced wry smile.

The third man had worked with Blane long enough to foresee the direction of this conversation. He takes a few steps back, shakes his head at the ground then whispers to himself, “Tony, it’s been an absolute pleasure.”

Blane closes a fist then launches it into Tony’s skull before he could react. The poor man’s head jerked back into an unnatural position followed by the cracking of bone. He lifts Tony’s limp body over his head as if it were a bag of feathers, extends his arms upward, and hurls it some yards away onto a parked car. Tony’s mortal remains collide with the windshield thrusting glass and debris inward.

“Break time’s over. Find her!” He roars.

Without answering the remaining henchman sprints into the distance finding new found inspiration in the devastation left behind. Blane watches as he disappears around a corner then digs in his pocket for a cell phone. He touches the screen a few times and puts the handset to his ear.

“Yeah. We had a mishap,” he begins, “We lost her. I will find her and end this. I promise. I understand. Yes. No. Yes. I’ll be right there, sir.” The monster stares down upon his phone and screams, “DAMN! I WILL KILL YOU, BITCH!” He runs full steam over to the nearest fire hydrant and sidekicks it with such force the metal bends inwards as it detaches from the ground spewing water into air.

Meanwhile, the third man, searches every inch of a ten-block radius to find the target and finds no such luck. He knows he will suffer a similar fate to Tony if he fails. That fact alone keeps him hunting through exhaustion and hunger. They’ve never lost track of a target, ever. This was unprecedented. The man sat on a curb for a short break and smiles to himself. He didn’t know whether to be upset or impressed.

Blane walked ten city blocks, weaving in and out of alleys, until he reaches a steel door behind an office building. He stood in front of the door tapping his feet but doesn‘t knock. He looks over his shoulder and notices a homeless man under a pile of newspaper off in a corner. Blane turns and asks, “Well?”

“One second,” replies the man as he sits up and places a finger to his ear and continues, “It’s not clear just yet according to them. Okay, what’s the pass phrase?”

“Zealots are the righteous, we shall defend this land against evil and prevail by the will of God.”

With that statement, the steel door pushes open, and the large thug moves quickly across the threshold. Two men with red caps at the entrance nod their heads and close the door and lock the various dead bolts. Blane casually glides down the hallway until he reaches a staircase. Climbs two flights, stands in front of another door with multiple men guarding that entrance.

“Blane,” one nods.

“He’s waiting for you. He’s not happy,” claims another.

“Thank you, brothers,” Blane responds with respect, then walks through another doorway. Now face to face with another man sitting behind a giant oak desk, Blane stands silent.  Behind the desk was shelves upon shelves of law books, reference guides, and other materials you’d find inside an office of law. The District Attorney taps his fingers on the table waiting for Blane to speak, but he didn’t intend to begin this conversation. Blane knew anything he’d say would be met with ridicule. Besides, there were no excuses he could offer.

“What happened?”

Blane clenches his fist, “She got away. Somehow. We watched her walk out the diner, then she turned a corner and poof gone. I have no clue, sir. Miles is still out there looking for her.”

“Miles, huh? He has other missions to attend to. We were going to kill that fag who works in this office, but now everything is postponed until you find her. And you killed Tony!” The District Attorney rose to his feet, then pounded his fists on the desk, “WHO TOLD YOU TO KILL TONY? No one gave that order, Blane. No one.”

“He pushed my buttons. I can’t control this rage sometimes, sir. I’m sorry.”

“You are sorry. I need you to find that damn girl. I need to know why she is so special? Why they risked everything to come out of hiding? As for you, go see Doc. He has more medicine for you. Is it possible we didn’t make you strong enough?”

“My strength is perfect. I appreciate everything you‘ve done. I’m so sorry. First let me go clean up the mess I made with Tony,” insists Blane.

“Already done. I’ve called off Miles as well. He needs to get back to work. So do you. It would seem I have to do everything around here. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

“Yes, sir,” Blane storms out the open door.


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