Anyone who said an honest man couldn’t make a living in Cityfalls had obviously never heard of Eligh Crane. Although Eligh’s shakings and dealings were hardly of the most sanitary kind, he still firmly considered himself to be an honest man. After all, there was no need for him to lie in order to get business in this sorry town.
It being summertime and all, business was positively booming for old Eligh. It was something about the warm nights that awakened the worst in people, like gleaming cicadas emerging from old dry skins. Eligh’s business was run on the worst in people. This usually didn’t bother him. But summertime certainly brought the hammer home about the nature of his work. Usually, his customers would breakdown so slowly that it was barely noticeable. But in summer, the decline was scary. A strong man would come to him, looking for the best of Eligh’s supply, and naturally would return every night after that. Every night, this man would get a little bit older, the glint in his eyes just a little more desperate, until his mind and body was only sustained by the supplier. Eligh saw that reliance as a bond; his customers needed him as a child needs its mother. And of course, it was only his duty to look after them. It was at this stage that all men, rich or poor, became the same. Hopeless. Eligh would do what he could for his favourites, even occasionally dropping the price, which was the most generous gesture he could think of. But eventually, they would stop coming, never to be seen of or heard from again. Such was the way of things, Eligh supposed.
That night, like all the nights before, Eligh ran his business under the disconcerting eye of the moon. His customer was a jittery young man wearing oversized tracksuit pants and sunglasses. Eligh sighed. Who wore sunglasses at night? He supposed it was the man’s idea of covert. Amateur.
“Have you got the stuff, Crane? I haven’t got all day,” the young man snapped in an American accent, agitatedly moving back and forth.
“Only the best for you sir,” Eligh sighed genially, holding out the package with a smile plastered on his face. He hated having to put on this act. Someone in his position really ought to be more intimidating. How else would he gain respect? Of course, to be intimidating, Eligh understood that conflict was a large part of that and he didn’t handle conflict very well. Of course, his height didn’t help much either on the intimidating front. He barely came up to the shoulders of most of his customers.
The young man snatched the package before hurriedly checking the contents. Satisfied, he grunted and slapped payment into Eligh’s outstretched hand, before scurrying away. Eligh watched him leave with a frown on his face and absent-mindedly stroked his two-day old stubble. Some people just had no consideration for others.
His appointments over for the night, Eligh counted the money before shoving his hands into his pockets and strolling out into the yellowy light of the street. His feet echoed off the grimy walls beside him as he surveyed the shop fronts for any signs of life. Eligh cursed under his breath. As usual, he was famished and nothing was open at this hour. Grumbling, he kicked a bit of rubbish along the pavement and continued wandering in the general direction of his scungy apartment. He got about twenty paces when an oddly bright pool of yellow light caught his attention. The light didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere in particular. It was as though a little bit of light from all of the street lights had escaped and gathered in this one place. The oddity of this didn’t strike Eligh though. What did was the 1967 Chevy Impala that sat like a languid panther in the light. It was jet black and glistened hypnotically, drawing an entranced Eligh from the curb onto the street. He circled the car in a daze, his adoration reflected in the darkened windows. A slightly tacky sticker of a rearing horse was plastered across the bumper, but Eligh didn’t care. He had to have this car. He deserved a reward after all. Surveying the empty street hurriedly, he fumbled in his pockets for a pick. Finding none, he cursed in frustration before rifling through his jacket. Suddenly, a flash of silver caught his attention. He looked up and nearly crowed in delight as he saw a set of shiny keys on the hood. Eligh snatched them up and unlocked the door before sinking into the soft leather seat. Excitement was rising in him, but he forced himself to take a moment to appreciate his find. He closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of leather and polish.
Suddenly, a long burst of static rushed from the radio. Eligh yelped and jumped in his seat, staring at the speakers while the static continued to hiss. A flaw in the design, no doubt. Eligh knew that old cars could be unpredictable. With his heart still racing, he leaned forward and switched off the radio. Silence. Eligh was just about to turn on the ignition when the radio snapped on again. He stared with wide eyes as the old fashioned dial shifted through stations. When it finally stopped, music began to pour from the speakers. It took a moment for Eligh to recognise the song as Sympathy for the Devil by the Rolling Stones.
Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name. But what’s puzzling you is the nature of my game?
Eligh screamed, scrabbling and scratching in his attempts to flee the car. But the door was sealed and wouldn’t budge underneath his pounding fists. .
“No, no, no, no, please god no,” he pleaded, his breath coming hard and fast as he tried to pry open the lock. Desperation swooped down upon him and, like a caged animal, he began to thrash and kick wildly. He tried to strike the windows out with his feet, each pound sending jolts of pain up his legs, but to no avail. All the while, the song continued, as though the car had barely noticed his attempts at escape. Suddenly, a grumbling roar arose within the car as the ignition started. Eligh screamed again, before dissolving into desperate sobs of horror as the car pulled off the curb. This had to be his imagination. He was dreaming. That was it. It was all a horrible nightmare. He pinched himself furiously, muttering desperately under his breath as the car pulled into middle of the road and began to carry him down the street.
The radio hissed again, the dial moving furiously, and Eligh gave up pinching his arm. Radiohead poured from the speakers.
When I am king, you will be first against the wall.
Eligh sobbed as the car pulled into the main street. Suddenly, a young couple walked into the streetlight with liked arms and went to cross the street. Eligh sat up desperately and pounded at the window.
“Help! Help me! Please, I can’t get out!” He screamed, beating the windscreen with his fists. The young couple just stared as the car rolled by, watching with the same admiration as Eligh himself had felt.
“Oh, don’t tell me- Please help!” he screamed again in desperation, waving his arms to draw their attention.
But the couple walked by, completely unaware of him. The demon car had bewitched them, just as it had bewitched him.
“What do you want from me? Let me out!” he howled at the radio. The car only picked up speed in response, flying through the empty streets like a sleek black crow. Time passed slowly, and Eligh tried to pretend he was somewhere else. But the awful reality kept plaguing his thoughts… he was going to die. The thought circled his head like a vulture, forcing him to curl into a ball on his seat and squeeze his eyes shut.
Suddenly, the car began to slow. Eligh opened his eyes to see that he was far from city lights, deep within the darkness of the outskirts of town. Ahead of them, just over the car’s glistening bonnet, he could see the old town bridge, the only route in or out of Cityfalls. Eligh heard the locks pop, and understanding dawned on him. Static hissed from the radio again, and a song he’d never heard before came on. The lyrics were clear though.
You’d better run, better run, outrun my gun.
Eligh did not need to be told twice. Without a backwards glance, he tore open the door and hurtled out of the car. He stumbled, but pulled himself up and ran at full pace over the bridge. He didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he just ran for dear life. The car waited until he was out of sight before switching off the radio. Slowly, the car door swung shut and it growled as it reversed away from the bridge. Then turning slowly, and with a certain note of what seemed like satisfaction, it rumbled back towards the soft lights of Cityfalls.
It being summertime and all, business was positively booming for old Eligh. It was something about the warm nights that awakened the worst in people, like gleaming cicadas emerging from old dry skins. Eligh’s business was run on the worst in people. This usually didn’t bother him. But summertime certainly brought the hammer home about the nature of his work. Usually, his customers would breakdown so slowly that it was barely noticeable. But in summer, the decline was scary. A strong man would come to him, looking for the best of Eligh’s supply, and naturally would return every night after that. Every night, this man would get a little bit older, the glint in his eyes just a little more desperate, until his mind and body was only sustained by the supplier. Eligh saw that reliance as a bond; his customers needed him as a child needs its mother. And of course, it was only his duty to look after them. It was at this stage that all men, rich or poor, became the same. Hopeless. Eligh would do what he could for his favourites, even occasionally dropping the price, which was the most generous gesture he could think of. But eventually, they would stop coming, never to be seen of or heard from again. Such was the way of things, Eligh supposed.
That night, like all the nights before, Eligh ran his business under the disconcerting eye of the moon. His customer was a jittery young man wearing oversized tracksuit pants and sunglasses. Eligh sighed. Who wore sunglasses at night? He supposed it was the man’s idea of covert. Amateur.
“Have you got the stuff, Crane? I haven’t got all day,” the young man snapped in an American accent, agitatedly moving back and forth.
“Only the best for you sir,” Eligh sighed genially, holding out the package with a smile plastered on his face. He hated having to put on this act. Someone in his position really ought to be more intimidating. How else would he gain respect? Of course, to be intimidating, Eligh understood that conflict was a large part of that and he didn’t handle conflict very well. Of course, his height didn’t help much either on the intimidating front. He barely came up to the shoulders of most of his customers.
The young man snatched the package before hurriedly checking the contents. Satisfied, he grunted and slapped payment into Eligh’s outstretched hand, before scurrying away. Eligh watched him leave with a frown on his face and absent-mindedly stroked his two-day old stubble. Some people just had no consideration for others.
His appointments over for the night, Eligh counted the money before shoving his hands into his pockets and strolling out into the yellowy light of the street. His feet echoed off the grimy walls beside him as he surveyed the shop fronts for any signs of life. Eligh cursed under his breath. As usual, he was famished and nothing was open at this hour. Grumbling, he kicked a bit of rubbish along the pavement and continued wandering in the general direction of his scungy apartment. He got about twenty paces when an oddly bright pool of yellow light caught his attention. The light didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere in particular. It was as though a little bit of light from all of the street lights had escaped and gathered in this one place. The oddity of this didn’t strike Eligh though. What did was the 1967 Chevy Impala that sat like a languid panther in the light. It was jet black and glistened hypnotically, drawing an entranced Eligh from the curb onto the street. He circled the car in a daze, his adoration reflected in the darkened windows. A slightly tacky sticker of a rearing horse was plastered across the bumper, but Eligh didn’t care. He had to have this car. He deserved a reward after all. Surveying the empty street hurriedly, he fumbled in his pockets for a pick. Finding none, he cursed in frustration before rifling through his jacket. Suddenly, a flash of silver caught his attention. He looked up and nearly crowed in delight as he saw a set of shiny keys on the hood. Eligh snatched them up and unlocked the door before sinking into the soft leather seat. Excitement was rising in him, but he forced himself to take a moment to appreciate his find. He closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of leather and polish.
Suddenly, a long burst of static rushed from the radio. Eligh yelped and jumped in his seat, staring at the speakers while the static continued to hiss. A flaw in the design, no doubt. Eligh knew that old cars could be unpredictable. With his heart still racing, he leaned forward and switched off the radio. Silence. Eligh was just about to turn on the ignition when the radio snapped on again. He stared with wide eyes as the old fashioned dial shifted through stations. When it finally stopped, music began to pour from the speakers. It took a moment for Eligh to recognise the song as Sympathy for the Devil by the Rolling Stones.
Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name. But what’s puzzling you is the nature of my game?
Eligh screamed, scrabbling and scratching in his attempts to flee the car. But the door was sealed and wouldn’t budge underneath his pounding fists. .
“No, no, no, no, please god no,” he pleaded, his breath coming hard and fast as he tried to pry open the lock. Desperation swooped down upon him and, like a caged animal, he began to thrash and kick wildly. He tried to strike the windows out with his feet, each pound sending jolts of pain up his legs, but to no avail. All the while, the song continued, as though the car had barely noticed his attempts at escape. Suddenly, a grumbling roar arose within the car as the ignition started. Eligh screamed again, before dissolving into desperate sobs of horror as the car pulled off the curb. This had to be his imagination. He was dreaming. That was it. It was all a horrible nightmare. He pinched himself furiously, muttering desperately under his breath as the car pulled into middle of the road and began to carry him down the street.
The radio hissed again, the dial moving furiously, and Eligh gave up pinching his arm. Radiohead poured from the speakers.
When I am king, you will be first against the wall.
Eligh sobbed as the car pulled into the main street. Suddenly, a young couple walked into the streetlight with liked arms and went to cross the street. Eligh sat up desperately and pounded at the window.
“Help! Help me! Please, I can’t get out!” He screamed, beating the windscreen with his fists. The young couple just stared as the car rolled by, watching with the same admiration as Eligh himself had felt.
“Oh, don’t tell me- Please help!” he screamed again in desperation, waving his arms to draw their attention.
But the couple walked by, completely unaware of him. The demon car had bewitched them, just as it had bewitched him.
“What do you want from me? Let me out!” he howled at the radio. The car only picked up speed in response, flying through the empty streets like a sleek black crow. Time passed slowly, and Eligh tried to pretend he was somewhere else. But the awful reality kept plaguing his thoughts… he was going to die. The thought circled his head like a vulture, forcing him to curl into a ball on his seat and squeeze his eyes shut.
Suddenly, the car began to slow. Eligh opened his eyes to see that he was far from city lights, deep within the darkness of the outskirts of town. Ahead of them, just over the car’s glistening bonnet, he could see the old town bridge, the only route in or out of Cityfalls. Eligh heard the locks pop, and understanding dawned on him. Static hissed from the radio again, and a song he’d never heard before came on. The lyrics were clear though.
You’d better run, better run, outrun my gun.
Eligh did not need to be told twice. Without a backwards glance, he tore open the door and hurtled out of the car. He stumbled, but pulled himself up and ran at full pace over the bridge. He didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he just ran for dear life. The car waited until he was out of sight before switching off the radio. Slowly, the car door swung shut and it growled as it reversed away from the bridge. Then turning slowly, and with a certain note of what seemed like satisfaction, it rumbled back towards the soft lights of Cityfalls.
Pictures:
http://wallmages.com/chevrolet-impala-wallpaper.html (Chevy Impala)
http://wallmages.com/chevrolet-impala-wallpaper.html (Chevy Impala)