Vol 1: Part 12

I finished tying the tight velvet noose around my neck as the bells began to toll. I stepped out of the bathroom my tailored monochrome suit wrapping itself around me a shroud of mourning. Adjusting the cuffs of my sleeve I made my way down the gravel laid path.

The scent of tears, and perfume was in the air as the wailing from the deceased family echoed into the inky black stained sky. Stepping into through the door into the church I was greeted by rows, and rows of pews painted black by the many mourners.

My footsteps lightly echoing on the flagstones I slipped to the back. It didn't take long before a solemn priest cleared his throat at the front. He was a man whose age was becoming very visible his thick black hair turning grey as he raised a hand as everyone got settled. "Now in the name of the father, son, and holy spirit may we begin this service in remembrance of these souls who have now joined our heavenly father in the better place promised to each one of us."

Whilst the rhetoric was dry I had to give the man his due for his passion the vigorous gestures, and booming baritone voice promising a better tomorrow for both the living, and the dead seemed to speak to the families. Just not to me.

After the hymns, and prayers the priest once more stood up his darker skin glistening in the candlelight. "If you would please stand and meet outside where we shall finally lay these noble souls to rest."

I had a good chuckle after that. Noble? I couldn't tell if the priest was just saying this out of habit or if he was just blind. Letting the crying congregation leave first I took one last look at the marble angel above the altar. It's gaze forming into one of pity as just like its feathered wings it's arms were also open. Was the pity out of compassion or duty?

Walking out of the wooden door people were holding candles as they stood atop the sea of long grass, under the silver moon, covered in little islands of melancholy the blades leaned in waves as the wind picked up. It wasn't long before the line of hearses rolled up as the chosen pole bearers wiped their tears and walked down to carry the coffins to their final resting place.

As this was going on I stood next to the leafless tree. I wasn't sad no tears fell from my cheek as I looked on in disinterest it was rather boring truth be told, and I was dying for a drink. Luckily as the last of the morbid procession passed I spied a lone figure walking up to the lychgate, which was strange since everyone who could have made it was already here.

Creeping into the shadows I silently pulled out my pistol it would be a shame to ruin the mood, but this was a perfect place to cut off the head of the snake of the organization so to speak, and I wasn't taking any chances. Like a child trying to scare one of their family members I crouched behind a gravestone waiting for my prey to walk past.

Time always seems to slow when your in the most uncomfortable position, but I couldn't move. So powering through the discomfort I waited. If I desired I could wait for eternity, well in truth anyone can in a wooden bed six feet underground. Hearing, the rustling of wet leaves come closer I got ready to move.

I saw the movement of my foes feet go past my hiding spot, so as quietly as I could I leapt up, and went to restrain him. I put my arm around his neck I could feel him tense up. Well until I introduced him to my little friend in the form of a muzzle against his temple.

"Don't resist." I whispered as I moved my captive so he was facing the way he came. Who knows who else might be trying to gatecrash, and no matter how hardened anyone is in this world they will still pause for a few valuable seconds if I have a hostage. When I was comfortable I wouldn't be shot immediately I looked at my stoic prisoner. "If I feel as much as a twitch I fire."

The man stayed still which was annoying. "You have permission to speak. Why are you here?"

"I am here to attend a funeral, and to give my condolences." He answered in a straight laced voice.

"Did you bring flowers as well?" I chuckled as I gently pressed the gun I was holding into the side of his head.

"Yes I did." He replied woodenly.

"Raise them to shoulder height at a quarter speed, then drop them." I commanded. He did exactly that slowly raising the bouquet of roses. Then he dropped them onto the gravel. I waited watching as they slowly drifted down with a rustle of petals, their wasn't any indication of a gun hidden inside.

"Jester!?" I heard someone call behind me.

"Remember a slight twitch." I whispered before replying. "What!?" I shouted back.

"Boss told me to check up on. What the fuck are you doing?" Jackson asked confused as he walked up next to me.

"I found him skulking around thus I was going to help give him some friendly directions." I shrugged as I motioned towards my prisoner with my gun.

"Directions to the nearest coffee shop or open grave?" He replied annoyed as he kept trying to light up a cigarette.

I took a look at my prisoners face, his dark brown eastern eyes stared back with the look of a warrior ready to fight. "Depends on him I suppose."

A puff of smoke wafted in the air as the fire from the lighter spluttered out like someone's last dying breath. "Just send him out no need to spill blood here, not today." Jackson said between breaths. "Apologies Róngyù, but If you want to pay your respects please come at a different time since everyone is rather highly tense."

Róngyù opened his mouth, pausing for a second, before he started to speak. "I see, I do suppose it was rather foolish to come so soon, nothing hurts worse than rubbing salt onto an recent open wound." He tensed a little before asking. "Could you please tell your friend to release me?"

Dropping the cigarette Jackson looked at me as he stomped out the spark on the ground. "Jester, would you be so kind as to let go?"

I pushed Róngyù out of my arms still keeping the gun trained on him. The gravel path let out a crunch as stones skittered underneath his feet that kicked the ground, without so much as a word he turned around picked up the flowers, and left.

Once he was out of sight I holstered my gun. "What's the real reason you started to look for me?" I said as I scanned the still graves, and swaying branches that appeared more ghostly in the silver glow of the moon. Jackson just stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets not responding as I turned around.

"Why are we doing this?" He asked as he reached for another cigarette.

I shrugged I didn't have an answer to that particular question.

"You must have a reason." Jackson pressed as he put the butt of the cigarette in his mouth.

"Maybe I do maybe I don't. What's with the sudden interest?" I replied dodging the question as I folded my arms.

He hesitated a little his forehead creased trying to think of something."Look, I know that the Boss, you, even Matt have been good to me over the years, but I'm sick of this sick of the blood, extortion, and drugs I want out."

I turned my eyes to the cloudy sky it looked like it was going to rain soon. "A lot of people want out of this life, but it will drag you back either through favors needed or debts owed. What would you do anyway even if you got out?"

"I think a photographer. Then I will be able to capture the beautiful moments instead of breaking them."

"Speak to the boss, and good luck with that." I said as I patted him on the shoulder before walking back up towards the gathering of mourners. It's good to have dreams, and a vision no matter how unrealistic they are.