B is for Black Enigma

I'm taking part in a blogging challenge where each day's post is themed by the letters of the alphabet. Today's is a one- off story set in the world of The Black Enigma. Click the Black Enigma tab at the top of the page to read more on the story. The following takes place between the events of Masquerade and Raven.

THE BLACK ENIGMA: SMOKE

Sir Skull's eyes were locked on her legs from across the table. As she tended to do, Sister spider was sitting up on the round table with her one stilettoed foot set flat upon the surface, which curved her fishnet-clad legs seductively up into the skin tight black leotard that she was wearing. Her hair was as black as coal. It was a perfect match for her soul.

The Black Enigma: Raven, part 3

For the preceding chapters in The Black Enigma series, click the tab at the top of the page.

"So, what do you go by, flyboy?" I ask my tenuous ally.

"This ebony bird," he says cryptically, " is but a stately raven of the saintly days of yore."

The Black Enigma: Raven, part 2

For the previous chapters in The Black Enigma, click the tab at the top of the page.

Looking down, now thirty stories up, I apologize in my mind to the sidewalk. I normally don't get so intimate so quickly, but I have no choice in the matter. I am drawn to the concrete as if by gravity. Oh wait.

The Black Enigma: Raven, part 1

For the previous chapters in the story, click The Black Enigma tab at the top of the page.

"The computer is reading the bullet as being four floors below you, Enigma," Harvey's voice tells me through the earpiece in my right ear. "That's the forty-first floor. Looks like some sort of suite according to the blueprints I'm looking at."

The Black Enigma: Masquerade, part 3

"What the hell?" I mutter. I watch as the impostor fires a clip into the crowd, wounding several partiers. I begin to move Harvey towards the door, since I'm supposed to be his bodyguard.

"There is only one crime lord in this town," the man ruining my good alter ego's name declares. "Any newcomers would do well to remember that." He pulls the pin on a hand grenade with his teeth and tosses it into the crowd, where it explodes, killing half a dozen people instantly. The fake laughs sadistically and dashes out the hole that he came through.

The Black Enigma: Masquerade, part 2

For previous chapters, click the tab at the top of the page.

I straighten my mask as Harvey straightens his white suit. We climb the steps to the enormous oak doorway and enter the mansion, finding ourselves in a vast white marble ballroom flanked on both sides by a curving staircase. Harvey snags a shrimp off of an unsuspecting servant's tray and slurps it down before we enter the crowd. They are all dressed extravagantly, and every person is masked.

The Black Enigma: Masquerade, part 1

For more on The Black Enigma, click the tab at the top of the page.

The Present, Pulopolis:

I sit in the back seat of the limousine, facing Harvey. He is wearing a white suit and is sipping from a martini glass. He has as dark of skin as you can have while still being called white, and has a thin moustache that runs by the sides of his mouth to meet up with his goatee. He is chatting on his cell phone with his father, Anthony Farleone, Pulopolis' biggest crime boss. The conversation seems typically one-sided, as Harvey says very little. I can't make out any words, but it's clear that Anthony is yelling angrily on the other end. Finally, Harvey tells his father goodbye and hangs up. He rubs his forehead irritably and downs the martini like a shot. He groans and smiles painfully at me.

The Black Enigma: Holes, part 3

For previous chapters in The Black Enigma story, click here.

There is a hole where my dreams should be.

I try to sleep, but the dark is as elusive as comfort. I twist restlessly in my waking, and even more restlessly still in my sleep. When my eyes do stay shut, and I manage to grasp the fragile fleeting tendrils of slumber, I dream of a hole where my brother should be. I dream of bullet holes and holes in the ground, and holes in hearts. I dream of a hole, starting in the center of the city and growing outwards, devouring all in its path, swallowing the entire city into the earth. And then there is a gravestone by the hole, and as I'm about to read it, I wake, trembling, sweating, my heart pounding.

So many holes that need filling.

The Black Enigma : Holes, part 2

This story takes place shortly after the events of this story,before the events of this story, and directly after Holes, part 1.

"What do you know?" I growl at Harvey.

"Regretfully," he sighs, "everything."

"Tell me now."

The Black Enigma: Holes, part 1

This story takes place shortly after the events of this story and before the events of this story.

The box that contains my brother lowers slowly into the abyss of worms and dirt that they call a grave. It's just a hole. A bullet hole in the body of the Earth, just like the one in Johnny's head. I have matching one in my heart. I loved my brother more than anything. He was the only family I had left. I am alone. Empty. A hole.

The Black Enigma: Filth, epilogue

He stared down at the city streets far below, through window panes distorted with sheets of rolling rain, his frame silhouetted by fluorescent lights from a skyscraper on the opposite side of the street. He twirled his sword frivolously as he took a haughty sip of red wine from a sexually curved glass. All the lights in the penthouse room behind him were off, the only light was that which entered through the window, causing an dull, eerie, multi-colored blanket to be tossed across the walls.

The Black Enigma: Filth, part 3

I move slowly and casually around the edges of the screaming mob. Curses and vulgarities are tossed about as casually as their money and the innocent dogs' lives. They yell angrily down into the middle where two dogs snap at each others' throats for the benefit of their owner's wallet. I sneak up behind the guard next to the iron door. I pull a tranquilizer dart out of the inside of my coat and stab it into his jugular as I pull the keys out of his pocket. I unlock the heavy door and slide inside, and pull it shut behind me.

The Black Enigma: Filth, part 2

My unfortunate victim passes out instantly. I lift him off the ground and toss him in the dumpster for safe keeping. I pull my pipe from my mouth, let a ring of smoke escape my mouth, and glance down at the puddle that the man had landed in. In my reflection, I am wearing red gloves, a black domino mask, black pants and boots and a long black trench coat with red buttons over a dark brown shirt and red tie. I am The Black Enigma.

The Black Enigma: Filth, part 1

The skies of my city were weeping. I watch the steamy breath from my nostrils mingle with the smoke of my pipe as the clouds' tears drew rivulets in the creases in my trench coat and dripped off the ends of my hair before my eyes. The all too familiar wail of distant police sirens plays a melody against the beat of the rain striking concrete. The rhythm it composes is like the beating of a heart that keeps the city flowing. But it's a black heart. A heart that pains itself with every pump.

A Mystery. Broken Into A Jigsaw Puzzle. Wrapped In A Conundrum. Hidden In A Chinese Box.

Her purse is gone. Mugging? he thought. Too simple. Why kill her?

The rain beat heavy and fast on the back of the leather coat worn by Detective Colt. He was hunched over a bleeding body in a tight dark alley somewhere in the tight dark bleeding city that he called home. He rolled the woman over and inspected her closer. His fingers hovered over the freshly made orifice in her abdomen. There were no other marks on her body. No abrasions, scrapes, or cuts.

No signs of a struggle.

His fingers and eyes moved up the corpse to its face. There was a bruise on her forehead.

Not much to go on. Probably hit it in the fall. She was dead before she hit the ground. Why does she look familiar?

He moved back to the bullet wound. It was larger than normal, indicating something other than small arms fire.

This wasn't a gun you could carry around stealthily.

He rolled her back over and examined the entrance wound. It was in between the shoulder blades.

Why is it so much higher? The angles is extreme...

His hand brushed something in her pocket. He reached in and removed her wallet. He opened it up and read the driver's license.

Martha Farleone. The crime boss's daughter. This is bad.

He slipped the license back in the wallet and the wallet back into the pocket. He dropped the body back into the pool of grime, blood and rainwater that he found it in and stood up.

She was my contact. They know I'm the mole.

He pulled out his cell phone and turned to face the street. He leaned against the building, hiding in the shadows. The phone rang in his ear as his eyes darted around nervously.

"Johnny?" answered the voice on the other end. "I thought I told you to call me on secure lines only.""

"Mr. Farleone, I think that I've been--"

The detective caught a glimpse of gun barrel's flash from the window of a building across the street, and immeasurable moments later, a bullet pierced flesh, skull, gray matter, skull, and then flesh again. The body fell lifelessly to the ground next to the woman.

"You've been what?" said the phone. "Johnny, what was that noise? Johnny? Johnny...?"