FicWad

S E A . O F . M A D N E S S
Waiting for Charon





---




The snow fell all around. A steam engine blew its whistle, the bronze body shining under the flickering light of the streetlamps. Steam punctured the calm atmosphere, hissing like a great snake as it coiled and twisted and soon disappeared, retreating lazily into the pastels of the afternoon sky. A few people waved as the locomotive began to stir, leaving them behind, inch by gradual inch. Suddenly, the contraption burst forth, edging along at a speed of forty miles an hour. It was the fastest thing on wheels...

Elias stood in the midst of onlookers, sharp eyes either studying or searching. He was like a chameleon, able to morph into whatever was normal depending on location and circumstance. Today was no exception. The overcoat he was wearing made him look much like either a professional alienist, or a young doctor. His disheveled appearance made him look more like the former, what with his hat tipped to the side, and his necktie coming undone - psychiatrists and psycho analysists alike were usually less composed these days, after the war. He gave off the impression that he was a very busy man, which was not entirely a lie. After standing around for a minute or two, Elias checked an aged pocket watch for the time, brows furrowing anxiously. Truth be told he was not anxious - or nervous - in the least. Elias knew the man he was about to meet quite well, and, con artist or not, the man was surprisingly efficient, and kept his word, more or less. But putting on an act was very important at the moment.

Sure enough, a familiar figure stepped onto the platform, suited up as a factory worker, his middle-aged face dirtied and tired looking. It was an enormous change from the Mihail he had first met, but Elias recognized him in an instant. The more you hovered about people like Mihail Fleischer, the more you came to see right through them. Secret of the criminal trade, he supposed.

"Misha. Here."

Unlike Elias, Mihail could not recognize his comrade as easily. As a result, he had taken to standing around with a well-constructed I-don't-fit-in look on his face, until the blonde addressed him. Immediately the shorter man peered his way, a convincing smile ripping his face in two.

"Vanya! How's my favorite nephew?" A calloused hand came to rest on Elias's right shoulder. It took him a moment to realize Mihail was using an alias. How like him to think of everything; in any case, it was too late to change Mihail's name now.

"Very well, Uncle. And you?" Mihail blinked vacantly at him, brown eyes significantly dimmer than usual. He was certainly playing the part...

"I'm as good as an old man can be. But look at you! So scrawny. Let's get some meat on those bones, come."

The con man led Elias through the crowd, swerving here and there to avoid a collision with one of the many bystanders. As soon as they were, Elias elbowed Mihail in the side, anticipating a real conversation, but Mihail brushed him off, and shot a hold-your-horses glance at the taller youth. The aura of kindness and warmth wittled away with each hurried step, until they reached the giant warehouse, and it had completely evaporated into the polluted, post-depression atmosphere.

"You're walking into the Underworld, Elias."

Mihail looked over to him, knowing eyes waiting for the psuedo-detective's response. Elias paused before muttering an "I know", after which Mihail chuckled.

"Right. Off to Hades we go."




---






"I'll be perfectly honest with you. I don't know much."

A deck of cards was sprayed out face-down in front of the speaker. Her hands swept over them, both her eyes closed, and she picked up one with her right hand. Lifting it up, she opened her eyes, turning to her lacky.

"Your card?" It was less of a question, more of a statement, because she knew there would be no answer but astonishment, grins, and applause. Exactly as predicted, the hoard of men and women around her nearly erupted into a chaotic few minutes of hurrahs and clapping, but they were stopped short when she looked back to Elias, her piercing emerald gaze meant to bore into his very soul. But she had no luck... Elias was a hard man to firghten, no matter his little experience as compared to hers.

"But you have something I want, so I'm tempted to help in, more or less, any way possible."

She began to pick up the cards, one by one, building the deck until all the cards were in a single, neat pile. Placing this on the far corner of the large pool table, she seemed deep in thought. Elias tried to guess what was running through her criminal mind, but her expression was entirely unreadable. The intelligent ones were the most dangerous, Elias mused to himself, but a little frustrated that he was left in the dark.

"Do you know what I want, Mister Tolmanov?" Her British accent was apparent, and he found it a bit amusing to hear in a crowd of society's pariahs - he had always associated British accents with aristocrats - the pompous, mostly arrogant sect of America, even the world as a whole. Although, he could go as far as to say that this woman was very far from humble.

"I'm afraid I don't." He answered experimentally, curiousity filling his eyes. She saw it - he knew she saw it - but he did nothing to hide it. It was no use being obsessively compulsive now.

"I want your intelect. It's scarce here, as you can tell. I want your word that, come what may, you'll be on my side." Her eyes narrowed, and she folded her hands, elbows resting on the table. "You're not special, no... you Russians are mostly trouble. But you have potential. Besides, the police department won't have you. Not after your... mishap, shall we call it?" Smiling, she continued, robbing Elias of the chance to comment. "So. What say you?"

The room fell deathly silent. One thing he could be sure of was the fact that he was getting himself into a mountain of trouble... but the information this woman had could be of great significance, and right now Elias was desperate for even a speck of color on his empty canvas. Knowing he did not have the leisure of a few minutes, much less a few hours to decide his fate, he cleared his throat and made up his mind.

"Alright, I'll subscribe to your little brigade." What little power he held over her would let the witty remarks slide, he knew. Elias was well aware that she did not want him as an enemy. That he would, in fact, prove a dangerous enemy. "Under the condition that if I specifically ask to be killed, there will be no hesitation in following my request."
The cigarette she had been lighting dropped to the table. She did little to hide her moment of shock, but her composure returned at the speed of light. It was a request made solely in the cinemas, and was certainly too dramatic for serious matter such as the one at hand, and though it made her smile, she knew Elias was serious, and that as corny as it sounded, it also held a note of ominous melancholy.

Not to mention he was a valuable pawn... one that would be hard to let go of.

"Good man, Tolmanov. I'll see you later tonight for a chat. For now, you're free to roam all three floors. Should you stumble across something unpleasant, I trust you won't be too surprised. So I'll expect no screams while I read /Studies on Hysteria/."

And with that, she disappeared behind an ornate mahogany door.





---



Oh, by the way, 'Charon' is the mythic ferryman to an underworld of mystery, and Studies on Hysteria was a bookw ritten by Freud in... I think the late 1800s, or early 1900s. I like references/alliterations. xD Anyway... sorry it took so long to get the first chapter up. I had a hard time figuring how to end it, finally found a way to... I still think it could be better, but I did the best job I could do for now. =] Pleeeeeaaaase review?