The Gentleman Grey
By Brendan Detzner
Footsteps
"You can kill me whenever you want. I’ve done some pretty bad things. Do what you feel like, I don’t care. My job is finished. I’m screwed however you look at it." Mr. Daniels laughed, cackled. Grey kept working.
"A murder/suicide outside the Center? Places like this don’t handle scandal really well. I’m out of business. Gone. Kaput. Not even I can cover this one up." He sighed. "I did my best, though. Here that?" He screamed out into the air, as loud as he could, to nobody, apparently. "I DID MY BEST!" He tossed the empty bottle to the side, picked up another one, and started on it with enthusiasm.
"You know, there’s something I’m going to ask you. You can hear and see and all that real well. Doesn’t that get to your head sometimes? I mean, something has, lets face it, you’re a goddamn freak, but was it just that or something else? What are you hearing now?" Mr. Daniels laughed again. He hadn’t laughed in a very long time.
Grey kept working on Beth, but he managed to slip in a few words edgewise.
"Footsteps. Somebody is coming inside. Pretty big build as far as I can tell."
Mr. Daniels stopped drinking for a moment.
"I guess you didn’t put him in place as well as you thought."
Mr. Daniels laughed, softer then before. He took another sip.
"I guess not."