Darkling

Chapter Five: Manifestations of the mind

Content/trigger warnings: Death, Violence, Child abuse, Suicidal ideation, PTSD, Emotional abuse, Trauma, Murder

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"Wish they'd given us someone a little bigger, you know?" said Tim, scratching his brown stubble with nicotine stained fingers. The light from the twenty four hour cafe behind him barely glinted off his nails.

"Bigger like older or bigger like –?" His companion, Stew, raised a hand to his chest and gestured obscenely to demonstrate. He grinned and ran the other through his straggly blond hair.

"Both would've been good." Tim laughed, pressing a cigarette between his lips and sucking in its smoke. "But I'd prefer a snack that didn't make me feel like some kinda ped– "

"– Like that?" said Frank on Stew's other side, smiling widely enough to show most of his blackened teeth.

He nodded in the direction of the person walking towards them. A full length, soft leather trench coat obscured their figure and a pair of black sunglasses hid their eyes despite the distinct absence of sunlight. They had glossy black hair tied into a low ponytail with several strands hanging loose and the rest tucked beneath the collar of their coat. The stranger passed them without a glance, their full lips pressed into a neutral line, and turned into the cafe.

"I dunno, man. 's hard to tell with all that stuff in the way," said Tim. He threw away his cigarette and stamped on it with a meaningful grin. "Wanna find out?"

Stew glanced at a house further down the road. "Guess it should be fine if we're quick about it."

Despite their doubts, they followed the person into the building without hesitation. Their target's voice was so low even the cashier had to lean forward to catch their order and then the temporarily genderless person settled down at the far side of the cafe with their back to the door. Relaxed. Clueless. The men requested quick drinks and a panini before throwing themselves into chairs set around a table right next to the person they had tailed.

"God, it's been a long day, right?" Stew smiled, revealing teeth as straw coloured as his hair.

"Yeah. There's nothing like sitting back and relaxing after a day like that." Tim folded his arms behind his head in a stretch, peeking at the sandy-skinned stranger around the veil of his bent elbow.

They had soft yet well defined nose and their jawline was a wider than he liked but he knew the eyes would be the deciding factor.

"Some people are so relaxed they haven't even realised it's winter," chortled Frank. "Or night time."

"Oi! Stop being rude." Tim thumped him on the arm and leaned sideways on the table. "Sorry about that."

The stranger shook their head, silently dismissing the apology, so he stood up and approached them.

"This guy's just high all the time." He waved a hand at his friend before placing it on the table top beside theirs. "Doesn't know what he's saying half the time."

"Then maybe he should stay quiet until he does." The person with sunglasses had a low, heavy voice. The kind that told stories in a language few truly understood.

"Oh my god." Irritation buzzed behind the Tim's sternum. Shock knocked him back half a step. "Are you actually a guy?"

The stranger glanced up at him before turning to the waitress. He thanked her as she set down his Matcha tea and hurried away with a pinker face.

"Mate, guys like you should come with a warning sign," said Stew as he placed a hand on the back of the man's chair and indicated non existent placard with an exaggerated sweep of his arm. "Cute but with ba-"