The Fix

~Happy Valentine's Day~


Robert Whitlock's eyes slowly started to open. After a few blinks they were but his mind hadn't caught up yet. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, trying to clear the fog that engulfed his brain. While he was waiting for it to catch up he looked around to take in his surroundings. Another decaying room in another abandoned building. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. Old dirty rags that had served as clothes for people that slept here before Robert lay scattered around. This is what his life had become. Robert was a addict, a junkie. His life, if one could even consider it a life, consisted of roaming the streets at night and sleeping it off during the day. He had no money so he had to resort to conning and taking what he needed from the drug dealers. He usually went after the prostitutes that were also dealing first though. They were women and put up less of a fight. He would always pretend to be interested in buying and after they showed him the stuff he grabbed it and ran into the darkness of the night. Sure, he had been chased. Shot at, stabbed once but he always managed to get away. Hence the constant moving around. He always tried to avoid a area he had hit for awhile. One thing about drug dealing, it was usually a short lived profession. The lucky ones got arrested and sent to jail. The unlucky ones ended up dead. But one thing about that line of work, when one seller left, three more were waiting in the wings to take over. And when the new ones arrived they never recognized him because they had never seen him before. And this was his existence. He felt dead inside. Nothing of his old self remained. How long had he been existing in this state? The days had turned to months, the months into years. It had been so long ago that he wasn't this person. He had been a productive member of society at one time. The drug had destroyed most of his mind and with that his memory as well but he did remember her, his dear Katherine. She had been his wife and he loved her more then life itself. When he lost her is when he fell apart. Most of his memories had faded with time but he remembered her. And he remembered their last night together. It had been Feb 14th, Valentines day. The year escaped him. How long ago had it been? Five years? Ten, fifteen, twenty even? He just didn't know. They had been out that evening. He had taken her to dine at the fanciest restaurant in the city. After that he had tickets to see a movie. Or was it a musical? Maybe a play? He wasn't sure which but they had watched something. And they were in love, in love on the day that celebrated love. After the show Robert and Katherine set off towards their home. It was only a few city blocks away and the weather had been mild so they had decided to walk. On the way back they held hands and pulled each other close as they made their way home. The mood was light and they were laughing and enjoying each others company when the man attacked them. Robert hated himself for not doing more at the time but the man took them totally by surprise. They never saw him coming out from the dark alley until he was right on top of them. With the strength of a dozen men the man swung his arm back and brought it back up into Roberts face. Robert went reeling. His eyes lost focus from the blow and as he staggered backwards he started to trip over his own feet. Kathrine let out a scream that was part terror, part surprise. The last thing Robert remembered seeing before he fell back and hit his head on the cold, hard concrete was the man, the monster, dragging his darling bride back into the dark alley that he had sprung from. As he slipped into unconsciousness her screams filled his head. And that was the last time he ever saw her, his beloved bride. After that his memories became blurry. He remembered the man coming back to him, presumably to finish him off. He had a faint memory of sirens and people shouting as they came running to see what was going on. And that was it. Nothing else after that. Today, he assumed that he had been so grief stricken over the lost of his dear wife that he had slipped into this nightmare of a existence. Probably started off drinking. Then moved on to harder things, things to help him forget. And they had worked. Other then those few memories, he had forgot. Now his days, or more so his nights, consisted of finding and using his drug of choice. Nothing else mattered to him. He had given up his life for it, he craved it, he needed it. It was the last reason he had to cling to whatever life he had left. And just like every night after waking he hurt. He hurt bad. His body was screaming for a fix. He couldn't think of food, he needed his fix. Robert slowly pulled himself up. His legs felt unsure. His balance was off. He knew he looked horrible but that was the last thing on his mind. Right now his first priority was to get what he needed and then he would decide his next course of action. He ducked back down and crawled out of the hole in the wall that had been made by vandals sometime ago. He had chosen a old abandoned electrical supply warehouse for his sleeping arrangements last night. He had chose this area because MOST of the houses and businesses were abandoned and boarded up. A area that was certain to attract the kind of people he needed to do business with. As he made his way out of the building he saw that he had chose wisely. A dozen or so men were conducting business already this evening. Several customers were walking. Some were driving on the almost deserted streets. Dealers made their way over when the cars would pull up. He could see them sticking their heads down next to the open windows. After a minute or two of talk the dealer would reach into one of his pockets and give the driver whatever they were interested in. The driver would hand over some cash and then take off. This was a place where people could come and get anything they were looking for. If it was addicting a person could find it here. Didn't even have to be drugs. Robert saw several ladies of the night walking around the area as well. Plying their trades, selling their product as well. "Good", he thought to himself. It would be easy tonight. Most prostitutes not only sold themselves but they offered all the other goodies as well. Like a walking one stop market he thought to himself, smiling as he did. So he would sneak down and around and come up by the east side and pretend to be a paying customer. He would do it like always. He would get the person away from the main traffic area, then grab his drug and take off. And he would run and run and not stop until he new it was safe. After he got his fix then the pain would stop and he would be able to think clearly. Think about who he was, where he was going and think about Katherine. And how must he missed her. Oh why oh why hadn't that beast killed him instead and let wife go? He wished, like he did every night, that the man HAD been able to finish and kill him as well. Then he would have been free of this life. This shell of a man living as a hopeless addict. Sleeping in filth all day and wandering the streets at night. Even though the man hadn't killed him, Robert Whitlock was for the most part dead. But right now he needed a fix. The aches were getting worse. He felt screams building up inside him. "Time to get a move on it," he told himself. He moved quickly towards the back of the building that was directly across the street from him. He sneaked around to the far side making sure the whole time that he stayed in the shadows and stayed well hidden. The sky was clear this night and the half moon shone bright and cast tall and dark shadows all around him. Most of the city street lights were out, a fitting tribute to the boarded up houses and closed down stores. Robert made his way up to the sidewalk from along the back side of the building. Even living the hard lifestyle he had been living for the past several years, he still had a handsome boyish look to him. Sure, his clothes were in total disarray. He looked like a junkie but he was still a somewhat handsome guy. He didn't have to stand there in the open for long when one of the street ladies noticed him and approached him to see what he was looking for. "Hi there darling," said the prostitute with a raspy, cigarette scarred voice. "What are you in the market for tonight?' Robert looked the lady up and down and decided she would be a easy hit. She wouldn't be able to run. She was wearing heels that looked to be at least four inches tall. Black stockings came up to her thighs and almost met the bottom of her shorts. Even though it was cold out she wore a silky top that was cut very low to reveal her assets up top. A cheap imitation fur coat rounded out her outfit. Robert had seen dozens, if not hundreds of these women before. The only reason she wore the coat at all was to hide the drugs she was selling on the side. Dealing drugs, after all, was her side hustle. The lady came closer to him. "Hi there baby, which ya need? I'm pretty sure I have it and if I don't then give me five minutes and I can get it". As she talked she kept walking. " I have coke, meth, weed, I have other stuff to if your not looking to get high, if you know what I mean." A slight smile started to form on his face and the lady now knew what he was wanting. Then it was her turn to start smiling. Her basic fee was one hundred dollars. Any extras beyond that was billed at twenty dollars each. "Its going to be a pretty good night," she thought to herself. "Come closer, so I can see you better," asked Robert. The women approached him, proudly, as if to offer him a preview. And just like that man did so many years ago, on Valentines day, Robert was on the woman in a instant. Even as the scream was starting to form in her throat he had her pulled backwards into the dark alleyway. His eyes glowed yellow as he snatched the woman's hair backwards to pull her head back so that her throat was exposed to him. And just as the scream was leaving her lungs, exploding to the top to shout out her fear, he tore into her neck. The scream evaporated as its passage way was torn apart. The thing/man spit out the flesh. He had no desire for it. He was after his drug. He was about to get his fix. The man bit into her neck again, this time severing her jugular. And he feed. Each pump of the woman's fading heartbeat filled his mouth with his drug, the stuff that he needed so badly. As he filled himself he could feel the aches subsiding, his strength returning, his head clearing. As he grew stronger the woman grew weaker. Finally, when he was full and he could take no more he released his hold on the woman's neck and soaked in the feeling of fullness. His body was quiet. No more cravings, no more pains. He looked down at the limp, almost lifeless woman in his arms. She was looking up at him, barely alive. He knew what he must do before it was to late. He had to do what the man that had attacked him wasn't able to do to him. He had taken care of Katherine but had been chased off before he could finish him. So Robert grasped the woman's head tightly and gave it a sharp twist to the right, snapping her neck and mercifully killing her so she wouldn't return like he did. He was addicted to something that he could never get enough of and would do anything to get. Robert dropped the woman to the ground and turned and fled into the night. And for the first time since waking up that night he felt alive.