Sim lifted his head off of his dirty bathroom floor, groaning and struggling to move his limbs.
“How long was I out?” He asked.
He used the counter to stand up and see Polymon in the reflection reading a newspaper that read “Hell Times” in English, but everything else was in runes that Sim couldn't read.
“I stopped paying attention after twenty hours.” Polymon replied.
Sim grabbed another bottle full of pills. He twisted hard, this time able to remove the top. He poured all of them down into his mouth and swallowed hard.
“So, how are you feeling?” Polymon asked, looking up past the newspaper.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ92bXDEv88r
“Like shit.” Sim replied.
“Oh, so nothing new.” Polymon replied before going back to reading the paper.
Sim looked over at the bathtub filled with dirty red and brown water. He coughed hard, clutching his chest as he limped his naked body over to the kitchen. He quickly reached up into the cabinet and pulled down a large bottle half full of whisky, taking the lid off before chugging all of it within a few seconds.
“You should probably get dressed.” Polymon said.
“Why?” Sim responded.
There was a knock at his door, making him jump.
Sim quickly made his way to his closet, throwing on underwear, jeans, and then went to the door while messing with a shirt. He opened it to see a short old man with barely open eyes.
“Mr. Helms. What are you doing here?” Sim quickly got his shirt on.
The man was holding a small silver device and held it up to his throat.
“Rent due.” The man said. His voice was very raspy and gritty.
“I seem to have misplaced my wallet. Can I give it to you tomorrow?” Sim asked.
“Rent due.” Mr. Helms responded quickly.
“Just give me one sec.” Sim shut the door.
“Go look under the cushion.” Polymon said.
Sim was confused but went to the couch, lifting up the middle cushion to see stack after stack of money held together in bands.
“We’re going to talk about this later.”
Sim grabbed two of them and went to the door, opening it and handing Mr. Helms the two stacks.
“There…that should be enough.” Sim replied with a warm smile.
“Thank you.” Mr. Helms said before very slowly making his way over to the next door.
Sim shut the door and looked back at the couch.
“Polymon, you have ten seconds.”
“Well…sometimes you’re asleep and I’m bored.”
“That’s your explanation? Where did you get all of this?” Sim asked as he limped his way back to the couch. He removed the other cushion to see another pile.
“Well…they aren’t all from the same place.” Polymon replied.
“I…you don’t have permission to use my body while I’m sleeping.” Sim said, rubbing his fingers harshly against his temples.
“That’s not exactly something you have a say in.” Polymon replied.
“Then no more sleep.” Sim said as the coffee pot finished, beeping out.
“You’ll die.” Polymon replied.
“I don’t think you understand how much I want that.”
Sim walked over and grabbed the pot, pouring all of the hot coffee down his throat.
"I mean…yeah it's understandable, but you also gotta stay alive." Polymon replied.
"And the reasons are?" Sim replied.
"Well…I'll be lonely. And that's not very nice to do to your longest relationship." Polymon said.
Sim rolled his eyes as he made his way back to the bathroom, looking at the outfit sitting in the dark and bloody water. Sim sighed and got down on both of his knees, reaching in and grabbing the outfit. It was drenched in the water as he reached back to the sink cabinets, opening one and pulling out a worm out sponge. He began to rub it against the outfit quite aggressively, his veins bulging with how hard he was pushing.
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Officer Lawton was still sitting in the freezing cold room, staring at the wall of nothing but computer screens. The monitors were reflecting in his eyes as he held the empty cup of coffee in his hand. None of the monitors had their sound turned on, so it was a silent expanse of information. He reached down and clicked on the number 2 on the keyboard.
Suddenly, every single monitor on the wall clicked and snapped to different parts of the city. There was still nothing new. People sitting in their living rooms watching television, people walking around Central Park, even the inside of taxis were visible. Lawton sighed as he pressed 3, switching all of the screens again.
Even more rooms and people took over the screens. Nothing was happening, just Lawton watching people live their everyday lives. No matter where they were or what they were doing, Lawton was watching. It was like he could see every person that was in New York City. Dead or alive, living there or just visiting. He saw them all. He had the all seeing eyes, but that was all he was…just eyes.
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Sim was sitting on the edge of a tall building while wearing his newly clean and restitched outfit. Wherever there had been holes got closed up with red fabric, leaving the outfit black with patches and thin lines of red all over it. The moon was starting to rise up in the air while he was eating a small hot dog he had stolen from a vendor a few minutes before.
“The outfit looks bad.” Polymon suddenly said.
“I couldn’t exactly do much about it.” Sim replied.
“You could’ve stolen the black fabric.” Polymon replied.
“I’m not a thief.” Sim replied.
Polymon laughed inside of Sim’s head, making Sim’s eye twitch and nearly shut.
“You should really let me do more.” Polymon said.
“No thanks.” Sim replied.
“Aww, what if I ask nicely?” Polymon asked.
“Shut up.”
Sim stared out at the skyline of New York City as the moon slowly began to rise up between the skyscrapers of powerful businesses. The night became quiet and peaceful while the sun disappeared, the sky turning from orange and purple to cool blue and black. Sim finished the hot dog and sighed.
“Slow night tonight.” Sim said.
“It sucks.” Polymon replied.
The two sat in silence as they looked up at the sky again, seeing stars barely visible due to the amount of artificial light on the ground creating too much pollution.
“Fucking capitalism.” Polymon suddenly said.
Sim shook his head and blinked a few times, surprised at the comment.
“Where the Hell did that come from?” Sim asked.
“I don’t know. Was sort of just looking for something to talk about.” Polymon said.
Sim kept shaking his head before laughing.
“Are we going to have a political discussion now?” Sim asked.
“Oh please no. Politics are awful.” Polymon said.
“What are politics like down there?” Sim asked.
“In Hell?” Polymon asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well…most politicians come down here so we know a lot. Problem is even after death that’s all they talk about.” Polymon replied.
Sim laughed as Polymon softly chuckled along.
“So are those internet conspiracy theories of politicians being demonic true?” Sim asked.
“I’m not going to say.” Polymon replied quickly.
Sim chuckled again before looking back at the night sky.
“You ever wonder if there’s life out there?” Sim asked.
“Oh, there is.” Polymon replied.
Sim smirked.
“Well now what am I supposed to think about?” Sim asked.
“I could tell you about some of the people down here.” Polymon said.
“Nah I’m good. I really don’t want to deal with that.” Sim quickly replied.
“Good. We’ve been having some issues with them.” Polymon said.
“Issues? That doesn’t sound good.” Sim said.
“Meh, been going on for a long time.” Polymon said.
“Are you going to give me a history lesson?” Sim asked.
“Nah. I’ve always hated learning.” Polymon replied.
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that many times.”
There was a sudden jump, almost like a jumpcut in a film, and Sim’s mask was covering his head.
Sim looked over to his side to suddenly see a pack of beer bottles sitting next to him. He grabbed one and pulled it out of the plastic packaging.
“Where did…”
“Yeah…this conversation felt like it was going to go on for a while. So I ran down and grabbed some beverages.” Polymon cut him off.
“But where did…”
“Don’t worry about it.” Polymon cut him off again.
Sim looked down at his other arm, seeing broken glass cutting his outfit and blood pouring out. Sim then looked closer at the beer.
“This isn’t the beer from my fridge.” Sim said.
“Did I say it was?” Polymon asked.
Sim groaned and pulled his mask off.
“Where did you get these?” Sim asked, his voice full of anger and annoyance.
“An apartment.” Polymon replied.
“Which one?” Sim asked.
“Don’t know any of the people that live in the same building as you.” Polymon said.
“Maybe if you socialize more.” Sim said, cracking the beer open with his bare hands before taking a large sip.
“Are you going to start going to those tenant meetings?” Polymon asked.
“Fuck that.”
Sim and Polymon both chuckled again.
Sim smiled as he drank more beer, still staring at the peaceful moon. He could feel himself losing feeling in his bloody arm as more and more blood poured out.
“Polymon.” Sim said.
“I got you.”
Sim’s eyes began to roll back, but stopped when they were vertically up. His eyes twitched around as his injured arm shook, the blood being forced back inside his body before the cuts closed, leaving no signs of injury.
Sim’s eyes slowly rolled back so he could see normally before drinking more beer.
“Thanks.” Sim said.
“Don’t mention it.” Polymon replied.
The two sat as Sim groaned.
“God I hate slow nights.” Sim said.
“Yeah I do too.” Polymon said.
“Oh please, for something like you who has lived thousands of years, a single night like this must go by in a flash.” Sim said.
“You think I’ve been alive for thousands of years?” Polymon asked.
Sim looked confused as he drank the rest of the bottle quickly, reaching over to grab another.
“Wait…you aren’t?” Sim asked.
“Demons aren’t eternal creatures. There's life before then.” Polymon said.
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