Neon District: Redux

Chapter 10

       Yuka had mixed emotions as she descended the concrete stairs leading down to a rusty metal door to a basement underneath a mossy brick building in the shopping district. The ceiling in the stairwell and along the brick wall of the building had flickering green neon lights spelling out the words 'The Lone Ranger' along with a poorly shaped cactus. 

She felt as if this meeting with Mr. Propaganda was just some escape for her after cutting all her connections with everyone she knew. She questioned if this meeting was just so Mr. Propaganda could arrest her publicly as he is always itching for a chance to spew political lies to the people; especially considering an election is underway. 

All of her doubts and worries faded away when she swung open the rusty metal door and entered The Lone Ranger bar to find it crowded with bar goers. 

She zipped up her leather jacket and shoved herself through the crowds of sparkling party dresses, leather jackets, and bodily musk until she made it near the back of the bar where all the private booths were. 

Green neon lights were wired all around the corners of the ceilings and walls like molding, which illuminated the white floors and grey walls in harsh shades of green. On one end of the room in the corner was a half octagonal shaped bar with some young looking bar tenders mixing colourful drinks for their customers. Along the other end were private booths with pale green curtains wide open to reveal tables and white leather chairs in each booth.

All the booth's curtains were drawn back except for one where Yuka stood in front of now. 

She used her hand to draw back the curtain slightly and entered the booth, the curtain swaying back into position behind her leaving the once noisy bar to soft background noise. 

In one of the white leather chairs sat Mr. Propaganda who wore a forest green polo shirt with a white suit that matched the chairs. His dark hair also looked a little more messy than usual as if he was trying to appear like any other bar goer.

She also believes this to be a fact as it appears no body guards were present.

"Please sit down." He cooed, motioning his hand to the empty seat across from him. Yuka slowly sat down not daring to take his eyes off of him as he could pull something any moment. 

"Isn't this nice? The last time we sat down together was in a cold interrogation room with multiple cameras on us," He said, grazing his finger along the rim of his still full glass of red wine. "Now this time I can freely say what I want."

"If you're here to arrest me then just do it already. I have other things to be doing." Yuka spoke up, gripping the seat of the armless leather chair.

"I find that hard to believe," He replied followed by a soft laugh, "if you really had something better to be doing you wouldn't be sitting here with me. And since you are it tells me that you have nobody else to go to and that you no longer trust your Syndicate buddies or that Sam fellow."

"After all, considering every time we have met I think I would be the last person you would willingly be with right now." Eiji paused, taking a sip from his glass before continuing. "Now, why are you really here?"

Yuka stayed silent. Why would she tell this guy anything? This man was the reason she was sitting right here with him in the first place. He is the reason why Kindy is dead, why Sam hated her, and why she abandoned the Syndicate. 

Her words couldn't process in her brain after she had thought of it. Despite hating this man blaming him for everything just doesn't make sense. That's right, Kindy dying, Sam hating her, and her abandoning the Syndicate and blaming it all on him was just her using him as an escape. To pin the blame on anything but herself.

I guess she was using this meeting as an escape after all.

"You said you had something in mind for me." She replied simply. Eiji clapped his hands together.

"Ah yes! What I had in mind was that you should come and work for me. I mean let's face it, you really don't have many options. I am sure there is at least half a dozen people wanting your blood flowing down a gutter." He explained, crossing his leg over his knee.

"What kind of work do you have in mind for me?" Yuka asked, clenching and unclenching her jaw tightly.

"Oh its nothing more than what my assistants already do, but I am sure I'll find something more interesting for you if the time presents itself." He answered.

Yuka is just itching to get out of here and decline this offer, but after saying that half a dozen people are wanting to kill her makes her question if that would be the right choice. Sure, everyone now hates her but she doesn't think it's enough to want to kill her. 

Other than Sam, at least.

Unless once she declines Mr. Propaganda's offer he will send out his men to find and assassinate her if that was what he meant by that. But, he was right in the end as she doesn't have any options left after she had dug herself a hole too deep to get out of without help.

She glanced up from her lap to see his hand reached out toward her waiting for her to accept his offer and they continue forward in whatever plans he has in store for her. If anything she should be grateful as she is currently stuck in a deep hole of her making and he was at the top with his hand reaching out for her to take it and help her out of the hole.

She moved her hand and took his hand in hers and they shook on it.

She just hopes that he won't purposefully drop her back in the deep hole.

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       It has been a month since Kindy's death and it still hurts. 

Sam has spent days on end just staring blankly at the wall pondering what he had done wrong for her to end up this way, but it always led to the conclusion of him meeting that wicked woman and trusting her.

He had wondered what he had done wrong to deserve the guilt, pain, regret, and agony that led after watching Kindy's little body being carted away all alone. Despite all that he couldn't let go the fact that he had hurt Yuka and no matter how much he beat himself up about it and how much he wanted to forget about them both.

He just couldn't, it hurt too much.

Not as much as this guy's face planted underneath his boot, though. Damn this guy must be going through it right now with his arm twisted in an awkward position, blood staining his clothes, and the fact that his face was currently being stomped on by Sam's boot.

After giving the guy one last stomp he decided that he had enough and continued his way down the dark and damp alley into the night in the search for the next scumbag for his boot to meet.

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END OF PART ONE.