• tab "Hey. Sweet cakes. You still alive?" I blinked. Twice. My throat was as dry as any given chapped wasteland in Africa. My eyes were flaming, probably bloodshot. My hands and legs...trembled as I struggled to push my feet into a standing position.
    tab Yeah, I was alive. Barely.
    tab "Ah. There you are, baby. Man, you don't look so swell."
    tab "Baby? Sweet cakes?" was my immediate response as I slowly turned my head towards the man. An old, skin to the bone kind of fellow. Had to be somewhere in his late 50's or early 60's. But what a large smile he had on his face. As if there was not a problem in the world...Everything all happy and merry. Not something you'd expect from someone living in this part of downtown Detroit."You're...you're not my husband." The man let out a laugh. Loud, boisterous, room rocking...
    tab "Well, 'course not, girl! Is it a crime to say things like that to a person who's not your wife'?"
    tab "No, but..." I stopped talking, and looked around. A cold, spine chilling room. Crude, grey cement peeked through the thin green paint of the quickly put together walls. One torn apart couch, the cushions spitting out cotton balls that probably replaced the softer sponge material that was there before. A scratched up rocking chair, two fogged up, cracked windows...
    tab "Where am I?" I finally asked after having my share of the not-so-glorious sight.
    tab "My apartment. Piece of work, ain't it? But, hey. All I can afford."
    tab "You..." I thought back to what just happened. I stepped on a bag full of Lays chips, and the next thing I know, I was being choked to death by a man wearing rags, and then...
    tab "You saved me, didn't you?" I went on to say. He did nothing but maintain his large grin and nod.
    tab "Why?" He shrugged casually, and replied,
    tab "Oh, simple. I see a pretty lady bein' strangled ta' death, I help the pretty lady bein' strangled ta' death. Policy, right? Can't be goin' against it. Just glad I was lucky enough to be there when it happened." I thought back futher. How'd he save me? He walked up behind me...the two had a little conversation...and then...the gunshot.
    tab "You killed that guy, didn't you?" I pressed, with a bit of coldness creeping it's way into the sentence. "You shot him." Another casual shrug for an un-casual topic.
    tab "Yep. I did. But he had it coming to him, and I warned him. So fair's fair." He looked into me eyes, and then said with a snicker,
    tab "What? Do you feel sorry for him? He was about to kill you, ya' know. He wasn't just trying to itimidate you or anythin'. He really was goin' ta' take your life! That's how the Banshees work. No respect for woman o' children. Just kill, kill, kill."
    tab "You killed a person...Don't you feel even a bit guilty about what you did?" He shook his head.
    tab "Nope. It would've been more criminal ta' just let you die there. Had to do somethin', ya' know? Besides, couldn't let that Banshees get away with anythin' like that. Had to take the oppurtunity I got."
    tab "There you go. You used it again. Banshee. Who are the Banshees?"
    tab "Oh, jus' some old gang rival who still thinks they're still all that. Which they're not, let me say."
    tab "Your...rival gang. You were part of a gang."
    tab "Yep. Indeed I was...about 15 years ago. Had a goatee back then, ya' know." He threw himself onto the couch, and picked up a beer bottle from under the table, guzzling it down as drips of the alcohol streaming down his cheeks, his adam's apple bobbing up and down to the beat of the constant glug...glug...glug. He released the bottle from his lips, and said with a horse voice, showing the half already drunk bottle in front of my face,
    tab "You want some?" I quickly shook my head.
    tab "Oh, I understand. You just don't want the germs spread around, do ya'?" He snickered, one side of his mouth arched up high to the right.
    tab "No. I just don't like--" He took a goblet from the table and started clumsily pouring the beer in there, spilling about every two seconds, with phrases like "whoopsy daisy" or just the "oops" and a loud chuckle. He forced it into my hands, saying,
    tab "Drink...It's good. No germs now, right? Ha-ha-ha..." I tried to hand it back to him, but it all ended up with him forcing the fowl liquid down my throat. I gagged, stumbled backwards, but remained on my feet.
    tab "Bit of a doozy, ain't it? Meanz it's good."
    tab "I don't--I don't like beer," I struggled to say through my drunken and confused mind.
    tab "Oh, pffft," he said, flopping his hand in a sarcastic "whatever" motion. "Lay off, ya' hear? Don't wanna hear that kinda talk." There was a stretch of silence as he stroked a new bottle of beer, and before he popped it open, I asked,
    tab "Your name...your name name is Matt." He dropped the bottle, a dull sound resonating as it fell onto it's side on the table. Hr just stared at me for a second, and then asked dumbly,
    tab "Where'd you hear that from?" I raised my eyebrows, and and told him,
    tab "That...that guy? He said it?" He slouched back onto his chair, and took back the bottle into his hand, the smile regained from before.
    tab "Oh yeah. Yeah. I get ya'. I remember that now. Good times."
    tab "It happened maybe a couple hours ago," I estimated, seeing I didn't even know what time it was now.
    tab "Yep. Maybe...somewhere...around there. So, uh, what's your point?"
    tab "Your reminiscing about it. Your an idiot. Your a drunk idiot."
    tab "Huh? Nooooo. I'm Matt. But some people call me Matt Hill...for short." I got him. And now I knew who he was.
    tab Kyle lied when he said Charles and him were the sole survivors of the attack. And this proved it.