The bodies are the hardest part of the whole thing.
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Fiction On Odyssey: Flour Part II

The bodies are the hardest part of the whole thing.

Fiction On Odyssey: Flour Part II
Photo by Kyle Johnson on Unsplash

The bodies are the hardest part of the whole thing. They're nothing but dead weight, leaning into me so much that I dig my heels into the ground. This kid is no different. Heavier than I thought he'd be.

I plunge further into the darkness of the alley, the boy's heels trailing in the dirt, sounding like rats through trash. Huffing, I put him on the ground against a wall and dig in my pocket for my phone.

I flip it open, dialing Rocky's number. He picks up on the first ring.

"Lennox-- got him?"



"I'm right off Warren, the alley by the lamp seller."

"We'll be there in five."

There's a sharp voice in the background but the line's dead before I can recognize who it is.

I sigh, settling back against the building that the kid's against, his head near my feet. I always try not to look at them during this part; the waiting. It's better that I pretend they're not there. Other than that, my only other choice is to stare at them, to take in their faces as they're lost in drugged slumber. I'd rather not. It's better to forget them faster.

I don't need to know what Rocky does by asking. I've seen him come out of rooms with blood up to his forearms. I've heard the screams, even after I've left the house.

The dim light that seeps into the alley flickers and I look up to see a silhouette wavering, stumbling further into the darkness. Her ponytail swings against the dwindling light.

"Help--" a whisper, high-pitched and raspy. She knocks into me and my arms go around her, as I try to pull her up onto her feet. There's a sharp scent of oranges. I gasp when there's a sharp pain in my side. My hand flies to the spot, releasing her. I feel the handle of the knife for a mere second before she yanks it out of me.

She shoves me away from her, easily standing her ground now, and darts behind me, towards the boy. "Flour?" she whispers, voice tight. "Why isn't he waking up? What did you do to him?"

I press one hand against my wound and blood gushes between my finger. The back of my neck prickles. I lurch towards her murky silhouette and yank her hair. She yelps, bringing a fist to my thigh and my stomach.

Falling backwards, I hit the dirt with a tuft of hair in my grip.

"What did you give him?" she hisses, rushing on top of me, but I'm ready this time. Handkerchief in my hand, I press it against her nose and hold the back of her neck, keeping her pinned.

I see the whiteness in her eyes before her body slumps on top of mine, an exhale of warm breath fanning across my neck.

There's a ringing in my ears and even in the dark, I can tell that my vision's getting blurry. I push the girl off of me and squeeze my stab wound but I only fade more. I turn my head to the side just in time to see the headlights pull up and the two pairs of boots rushing towards me.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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