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Our Night (Fiction)

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Hope no one minds me posting this here... I'll stop if told too :s
Thought up this little story when I was walking home from the library today... Got no plans for it so I thought I'd post it here, hope thats alright :P Enjoy.

Our Night
Johnathan Enright

Plush carpet laid out under sterile metal furniture and brilliant leather, underlining the shadows that played through the large room. Light cut through the darkness with varying hues of blue and white that ended in a silhouetted form in font of a large computer monitor which rested atop a massive steel desk. An older man worked against the key board, his graying hair and receding line mirrored by the wrinkled white shirt and tie that hung loose from around his neck, a noose made more physical then the occasional tapping of keys.
Elisia stepped up behind him, laying her hands down on his shoulders before working against the tension in his muscles. Six years and it never changed, if he wasn’t at work he was bringing it home. A light breath emptied her lungs in an instant while she brought her hands to the base of his neck. “I’m gonna go to the gym okay…?”
“Uhuh . . .”
“Theres dinner on the stove . . . I made chicken and broccoli . . .” She smiled softly, following the figures that continued to fill the screen under the man’s fingers.
“Uhuh . . .”
“Make sure Jason gets to bed by nine okay?”
“Uhuh . . .”
“I love you . . .” Elisia sighed before releasing her grip and turning away.
“You too . . .”
Jason slipped by the open door way that lead to the living room, his red striped shirt and brown hair accenting the light smile he used to wrap his arms around Elisia’s leg. “I love you mommy.”
“I love you too sweetheart . . .” She smiled as she hefted her duffle bag over her shoulder with a sigh. “I’ll be back soon, be in bed by nine, understand?”
“I will…” He grinned, a tell tale smirk flickering against the warmth that radiated from green eyes. “Promise.”
Elisia pulled him closer and released him with a soft kiss. “See you tomorrow.” Another grin carried her through the door into the well lit hallway, it’s wallpaper and plaster outline interrupted occasionally by a large cherry wood door. Fresh air swept through the massive glass doors carrying light scents of damp cement and exhaust which mixed against the warm air with a unique blend both familiar and inviting.
Tonight was a special night, one meant for life and vitality, lost once but found again. The names of the emotions that raced through her veins were lost as soon as they were remembered, wiped out by a single name. Mark.
Six years and nothing had changed, the life of a complacent wife and loving mother had lost it’s appeal, just as he had warned her it would, but tonight. Tonight belonged to them.
A slow turn brought her through the traffic of Tenth avenue, guiding her old Toyota Celica to the parking lot of a mall where it nestled neatly between any number of other faceless vehicles. Duffle bag in hand she walked through the parking lot, her jeans and leather jacket a light contrast to the gentle thrum of people that carried on conversations as drawn out and toneless as the years which passed behind Elisia’s eyes.
He tried to be a good husband, but every time something would come up, he was there. Had to be her mother had said, it’s in his nature. She sighed, his nature had been to solve problems not to raise a family. Sterile, her mother chimed again, he can make babies but he cant care for them. She had been right, but Elisia didn’t care, she loved her husband.
But Mark could bring her the happiness she wanted, not affection exactly, but an animalistic form of it. Something resembling respect she guessed as she glanced up the street at the massive green and yellow letters which played across a white sign.
The Meta Inn had been their favored meeting place for some time, an upscale hotel in the middle of town surrounded by trees that served as a privacy filter for anyone watching and, more importantly, a beautiful view in the morning.
Elisia smiled softly while she slipped in through the lobby doors, blue carpet and brilliant lights offsetting the heavy trim of natural wood decor which dominated the room. An older man smiled back at her when she stepped up to the counter, offering an equally warm voice. “Can I help you Miss?”
“Rachel Arrington, I have a reservation . . .” Elisia laid out the small pamphlet Mark had given her, reciting her lines with pitched clarity. “Room twenty seven.”
“Ah, would you like someone to get your bag miss Arrington?”
“Please, call me Rachel, and No I don’t think so . . .”
The man nodded, laying out a key card and receipt. “Here you are, first floor on the left by the fire extinguisher.” As if he needed to remind her.
“Thanks.” Elisia scooped up the items before glancing at the clock on the wall, almost eight forty five. It wouldn’t be long.
The room expanded out around the ambient light of the well placed security lights, shadows playing out against the warm features of the room. Heavy wood and plush pillows invited her deeper into the darkness, offering safety and comfort nearly as real as the silence that filled the room when she closed the door.
Elisia unzipped her bag, withdrawing a hooded sweatshirt and matching pants along with jogging shoes that followed the same styling. Mark would be pleased to see her taking the same precautions she always had, adding a personal touch in the baseball cap and sunglasses she put on an instant later.
Bright light cut through the room with glaring beams of orange and yellow, bathing her form for an instant before the car slipped by the window. A limousine stretched out slowly through the parking lot, sliding by with a deliberate slowness. He was early.
Elisia hoisted her bag after putting her clothes back in, meeting the cool evening air with a gentle sigh. This wasn’t supposed to happen, almost an hour early. “What are you doing?” She glanced down the lot as the limo turned around the back, coming to a stop finally.
The tinted windows betrayed nothing to her shaded eyes as she made her way toward the vehicle, smiling slightly when two large men came out of the back door. Another, shorter man followed them, his youthful Asian features contrasting against the well cut black suit that covered his body. Elisia smiled at the man as she passed, grinning inwardly. He was alone, no women this time . . .”
Elisia swallowed when she turned the corner, tracing the various paths that would lead him to his destination, to her destination. Finally she settled on a thick patch of shadows which overlooked the pristine side of the hotel, she unzipped the bag a moment later while the man made his way to room twenty seven. Another instant gave way to a sharp click of metal as Elisia hoisted a heavy assault rifle from her bag, connecting the receiver pieces with a quick series of clicks and clanks that ended when she attached the long suppressor and inserted the magazine.
The man strode confidently between his bodyguards under the illuminated crosshair, oblivious to the cross that rested at his temple. Just one more. Elisia breathed in slowly, air leveling off as the large men took up residence on either side of the door, the Asian man knocking while Elisia thumbed the safety.
Sound crashed through the tight confines of the weapon’s muzzle, erupting from the suppressor in a well drawn pop that could just as easily have been confused for a backfire several blocks away. The only give away being the massive red stain which painted the door in time with the form that slumped forward, sprawling out even while the bodyguards ducked down.
Elisia pulled the weapon back into the shadows, a quick movement that followed her fingers as she recovered the spent shell, removing the suppressor before cramming it into her bag and picking up a steady jog through the trees. One by one wood pillars passed in a flurry of motion which gave way to gentle lights and forced calm when she came out along the road. She slipped her sweat shirt off, stuffing it in the bag before sliding into her jacket, matched an instant later by the sneakers she used to replace her Nikes.
Traffic lightened up slowly while Elisia made her way through the streets, sliding through the warmed air before she came to a stop in front of an old junk yard. She pulled the magazine from her weapon, unlatching the pins that held the rifle together before ejecting the chambered round and pocketing the bolt in her pants. Husks of broken cars and mud gave way to a dull thump when Elisia came to a line of cars sitting out in front of a massive compacting machine. Slowly she stashed the pieces of the weapon in various cars, picking up a jog back to the gate before removing her shoes and throwing them in her bag. A quick check gave way to tension when she withdrew her jeans and traded them for the dark sweat pants that occupied the bag a moment later.
Elisia grabbed the bolt of the rifle, disassembling it along the Ninth street bridge before tossing the small pieces out. Another turn brought her to an intimiately familiar part of town, lined in grime covered bricks and smelling of urine several barrels stood out against the darkness alight with flickers of orange and red that paled against the ragged forms which surrounded them. She stopped her car in front of an empty barrel, depositing her bag before dousing it with gas and throwing her lighter in, waiting for the satisfying pop it made before she got back along her old street.
Shadows played out slowly as she made her way up to the familiar door, unlocking it with a grin to find her husband still hard at work against the sterile desk and unfeeling machine which fought with her for attention. A light smile graced her lips, six years and nothing changes . . . “Maybe it isn’t so bad.”
“Hmm?” The man turned around, smiling softly. “Oh… Mark called, he said to thank you for the brownies.”
“Isn’t that sweet of him.”
“He said he wants to exchange recipes tomorrow if that’s okay.”
Elisia grinned slightly, making her way to the bedroom, withdrawing her night shirt and a pair of socks. “If he calls again, tell him that would be just fine.” Another grin crossed her mouth while she slipped into the warm flow of water, washing away the faint scents of gun powder and lubricating oil. Tomorrow night would be another of their nights. . .

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