Chapter 27 - Jason

Chapter 27 - Jason

The elevator is busted again, I guess I’m going to be taking the stairs. I used to have no problem with stairs. Now, it seems like there’s no end to them. Maybe it’s because everything is higher up in the city. We just build out at the temple. People in the city just build higher and higher as if they’re trying to reach the heavens by some miracle. I also haven’t been training like I should have. Finding work is hard here. Regular jobs, sure, they’re everywhere. But everyone wants someone with fifteen years of experience to mop the floors. Who does that? On top of that, there’s barely enough pay to keep the lights on and the rent paid.

In fact, the orange note on my door tells me I haven’t been keeping the rent paid. I’ve got two weeks to get caught up on my rent or I’m getting evicted. Great. I thought the temple gave me a lot of money to get started with. Turns out, things cost a lot more here in the city. People here are just so damn greedy. Everything revolves around money. The money I started with only lasted a few months. I had to change my diet and everything. Eating lower quality food is probably why I never have the energy to get through the day anymore. Even when I try to sleep, it’s hard. I just toss and turn. There’s so much…noise. Different noise than the temple. Everything just pisses me off now.

I flick a roach from my couch and take a seat. Looking at my checkbook I don’t have enough to cover the rent. I could get another job, but by the time I got paid, it would be too late. I’ve always got contract work to fall back on. It’s what I would rather be doing, but I can’t seem to find any jobs. There’s a bar where they post things on the bulletin board, but other than that, I haven’t figured out a reliable way to find work. That’s something I probably should have asked about before I came here. The temple never had any shortage of work, or money. On top of top of that, there’s way more competition in the market. I don’t know how when most of the humans around here can’t even see the supernatural elements of our world. Ridiculous. I just don’t have the connections I need to make it out here. Now I see why people said excommunication is a punishment worse than death.

“You cheating whore can you go a day without putting some random dick down your throat,” My name Chuck is yelling at his wife again. They’re always going at it. I’ve met werewolves less fierce.

“Maybe if you could actually get it up, I wouldn’t have to,” Debbie is fighting back.

I’m just going to wait for them to finish. Eventually he’ll just get mad and leave. Things are starting to quiet down already. I heard a loud thud and some furniture scrapping the floor. I guess he doesn’t want to leave today. Well, this is my problem now. I make my way next door and knock on the door. There’s still screaming going on. Mrs. Gonzales looks out the door. I wave to her and she nods her head approvingly. I’m not sure what she thinks I’m going to do but if she had any clue she probably would think I’m a monster.

“What the fuck do you want? You silent psycho,” Chuck answers the door slightly. I still catch a glimpse of Debbie laying on the floor and crying.

“I need you to stop putting your hands on your wife.”

“What are you going to do? Call the cops. She’s drunk, they’ll say she fell,” not even enough sense to deny it.

“Chuck, stop beating your wife, or I’m going to beat you.”

“Oh really tough guy,” Chuck steps out of the apartment.

“Yeah, really.”

Chuck throws a sucker punch that lands right on my cheek. I saw it coming. I just let it land. I don’t even try to use my magic to make it painless. I just needed to feel something. Something familiar. Pain, even if it is light. I needed to make sure I was still alive. It doesn’t bring the same adrenaline that fighting vampires does, nor is the pain similar. But, I feel it. I let him throw a few more punches before I’m ready to strike.

The next punch he throws I take his fist in my hand. He throws a punch with his other hand. This time I use control of his arm to swing him around s he misses. I throw a headbutt directly to the center of his face. The fleshy parts, nose and lips. He screams out in pain. Not much different than how Debbie was screaming a few minutes ago. I let his arm go and he falls to his knees cupping his face. I give him one final kick to the chest to get the point across.

“Hey, what in the hell is going on here,” Paul the building manager yells out, out of breath from the stairs.

“Mr. Chuck is drinking too much and fell up the stairs. Mr. Jason is helping him. If only the elevator would move,” Mrs. Gonzales runs interference for me. She must have witnessed the whole thing.

“That’s not what happened,” Chuck starts.

“Oh no baby, were you drinking again,” Debbie pulls Chuck into their apartment.

“Just keep it down up here,” Paul says making his way back down the stairs.

Back in my apartment, after a shower, I’m digging through the fridge to see what I can eat for dinner. Not a lot of options here. An slowly rotting apple, some pale lettuce. Delicious. I hear a knock at the door and make my way over. Mrs. Gonzales is there with a huge pan.

“Please, I brought you dinner,” she offers me the pan.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t take that.”

“You are a good man. A rough man, and a scary man. But good man. Kind of like my husband, take it,” her broken English is suddenly perfect. A wonderful actress if I’ve ever seen one.


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