Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again | By : Imoshen Category: +A through F > Assassin's Creed Views: 3972 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed nor do I make money by publishing this story. |
Altair came home late which wasn't unusual. He was an employee for a small security company where he would have to work early in the morning, collection the money from various stores to bring it to the bank and he had a second job where he went to three times a week, working in the evening at a small club as a security as well, basically telling people that no, they won't get in here wearing these shoes and yes, you can pass. Today was one of those days where he came home in the middle of the night and with only a few hours of sleep ahead. But this was the only way for him to save enough money to go back to school next spring.
He sighed heavily as he dragged himself into his living room, sinking clumsily onto his coach and rolling his shoulders, his tired muscles aching and he rubbed his eyes with one hand before getting up again, walking to his fridge to get out some beer. It wasn't like that he drank often, he hardly did. To be honest it had been just a few years ago that he had alcohol for the first time as he was Muslim or rather... used to be. His believes had changed like so many other things and now here he was, sitting in his dark apartment with an unopened can of beer in his hand and he put it back on the table just a second later.
He'd had another dream on his way to work and he still tried to forget the images. He remembered some words shouted at him, thick with a French accent and yet he understood everything. He remembered the cold feeling of fear and wild hot rage battling with each other and in the end there was nothing left but lonely remorse. The rest of the day hadn't been much better and the evening was even worse. He couldn't forget the man's face he saw on the train as he was heading for his second job as he usually arrived one to two hours early before the club would open. That man seemed familiar and he couldn't shake off the feeling that he knew him, somehow. Something like that had never happened before and he would have thought it only existed in a poorly written novel but never actually happen to himself in real life. He was still thinking back to that face not able to forget it although something seemed to be off and not right about the picture. The man seemed familiar, yes, but there wasn't something right and Altair couldn't put his finger on it. He shrugged with his shoulders, grabbing the can and opening it with a loud 'plop', taking the first sip. His face turned into a small grimace. Yep, he still didn't like beer no matter how often he tried it, but he always ended up buying some every so often because maybe he will like it this time.
There was a small red light flashing to his right and it was then that his attention was caught by his answering machine. Three new messages. He groaned and leaned to his side, reaching for the small button and pushing. The short beep came and the message started.
"Hello Mr. Iben-Laad this is Tracy from Abst-" She still couldn't pronounce his name. She sounded so annoying, this bright cheerful voice and he imagined her smiling every time she called him. She probably would still be smiling if he stood in front of her telling her to fuck off and leave him alone, probably wishing him a good day too.
He practically punched the button to switch to the next message. The digital number flipped and the second message went on.
"It's Tracy and I'm calling fro-"
Fuck no – skip to the next and last one.
"Please give us a call back as soon as possible, it's Tracy ag-"
For a moment Altair just thought about throwing the machine out of his window. This has been going on for a few weeks now and he still had no idea why a pharmaceutical company was interested in him, offering him a job. He told them multiple times that no, he didn't want to work for them even though the money was good but after one time, where he talked on the phone with this one guy something at the back of his mind told him that it was better to reject their offer even though it'd pay more than what he currently got with his two jobs. Some things just weren't worth it and after he'd done some research, finding a homepage only a few months old and no other entries at all on google he thought he was better off without them. That didn't stop them from calling him though and now he got their messages every other day trying to convince him to come by for a job interview.
No thank you and he pushed the button to delete all three messages.
His muscles and body felt stiff and he groaned in pain when he turned his head to one side, his neck hurting. He got up again and walked towards the small DVD shelf where he crouched down and pulled out a pile of movies only to reach behind them, pulling out just a single one. He sat back on the couch once he had turned on the TV, put in the movie and leaned back staring mindlessly at the screen. He turned the volume down to a minimum, only watching halfheartedly. He pressed forward to get to the parts he was interested in but even as he watched the guy sucking on the other man's cock it didn't do the trick. He just couldn't stop thinking.
Soft moans filled the room, not his own but those coming from the actors, sounding all faked and badly acted. It didn't stop him from closing his eyes and opening his belt with one hand, popping one button open and groping himself through his jeans. A second later an image flashed up in his mind and sharp pain followed soon, making it feel as if someone had just hit him with a hammer across the back of his head.
Eyes. A pair of staring eyes, betrayal, hurt and sorrow written starkly across them.
Nothing more. Just a pair of eyes but it was enough to make him gasp, his hand coming up to hold his had as the pain only slowly faded and traveling through one side of his body. Just what the fuck happened? Altair held up his hand in front of him, spreading his fingers and counting them. He then smiled even though it was empty and hollow but nope... not a stroke. Everything was functioning as it should be. Then why was his mind playing tricks with him? Those eyes he remembered as they had watched him tonight in the train. The same eyes as the man's he hadn't been able to take his sight off.
The sound of deep, husky moans followed the noise of skin slapping skin and as he looked up, watching the guy's dick disappearing into the other man's body. Just another reason why he couldn't follow his faith anymore. Right. He was gay and it had only been just a year ago that he could finally admit to it. He knew homosexuality wasn't anything to be ashamed of and he would encourage any gay man or woman to come out of the closet but himself? That had been almost an impossible task. He could accept homosexuality when it concerned others but not when it came to himself and it had almost killed him, painful and slowly from the inside, eating away at his mind and soul until there was almost nothing left of him, leaving him as an empty shell. It had somehow changed him, turning him from being a bright boy into an arrogant, aloof acting bastard – all because he couldn't accept himself. Now it was different though... he could accept the fact being gay and he could live out his own sexuality – behind the curtains of his apartment where nobody could see him, where it was just him and his lone, pitiful single DVD of gay porn. So yes, he still had a long way ahead of him – one path he had to take was to learn how to download some porn instead of buying it in a shop. No way he would ever enter one of those ever again.
He turned down the volume of his TV completely and just let the images run across the screen, not paying too much attention. He made himself comfortable on his couch laying with face turned away from the TV and one hand tugged underneath his chin. He was tired, very tired and sometimes it felt as if he'd lived a thousand years not able to get some rest. Rest... restless. He often felt restless as if something was chasing him, as if somebody had attached strings to his limbs, pulling every now and then and keeping him at place, not allowing him to move into one direction or the other. Sometimes he felt played by an invisible puppet master, letting him dance whenever it was desired. It wasn't his life – it was just as simple as that. This wasn't his life. This, all of this felt wrong and no matter how hard he tried to find his way it always seemed as if he chose the wrong path. His attempt to gather enough money to going to school again, it was his last one to find his true self. There were just so many things he was interested in. History, maybe. That sounded good. Maybe something he wouldn't get bored soon with as it often happened with other things. One reason why he hadn't been able to finish school when he was younger. It simply bored him and he couldn't find the sense of going there anyway. Sometimes it just seemed as if nothing was true. But if nothing was true then what should he live for?
He fell asleep before he knew it but this time it was just empty space he was walking through, white engulfing him as he moved through thick fog but no matter which way he chose he didn't find anything there and it left him no choice but to keep on searching. If he only knew what he was looking for.
xxx
Malik couldn't get rid of the image of those bright amber eyes hunting him. He was turning around once more in his bed as he tried to fall asleep but sleep wouldn't come tonight. So he got up again, wearing nothing but his boxers and he stopped in front of his window. He was living at the twenty fourth floor and the view he got from up there was amazing as he could look over the whole city, watching all the flashing, colorful lights, planes landing and cars moving through the streets like a thousand little ants. He leaned heavily against the window's frame, watching the life splayed across in front of him a few minutes longer. He could still remember broken fragments of his childhood, could still remember just how different life was there compared to this. People living in destroyed houses, bullet holes decorating facades if there still were any. No running water, no electricity most of the times and his mother cooking with gas. It were only a few, small images he could remember and maybe some of them weren't true and he just made them up but... even if they weren't real he still wanted to hold onto them as they were the best memories he had of his parents.
He pulled a bit back and he could see his reflection on the smooth surface of the glass. Sometimes he didn't recognize himself and his fingers moved across his chin. Maybe he should let grow a small goatee there. It certainly felt right and he knew it would probably look good at him. His eyes fell back on his left arm. A arm that shouldn't be there and the doctors had told him multiple times how lucky he was that they had been able to save it. When his gaze went towards the city lights again he reached for his cheek as he watched a lonely tear rolling across it. His fingers came back dry and he noticed that it had started raining, water drops rolling down the window and his reflection. It would have surprised him anyway.
xxx
"We found him six weeks ago. Why isn't he still here?" He turned around facing her, his hands crossed behind his back, her smaller frame reflecting in his glasses.
"I think the whole procedure will go more smoothly if he comes here by his own free will. I don't have a good feeling if we have to sedate him and just force him into the machine." She spoke quickly but even though she tried hard not to show how nervous she was in front of him, she couldn't keep her voice from trembling.
"I hardly care about your feelings. I don't care about his feelings either. I want him here, I want him in that machine and I want it now. Go get a squad and let them bring him here."
"But if we force him we might risk losing him and-"
"We won't lose him", he smiled but it didn't look friendly at all and there was a predatory look in his eyes. "If he's really who we think he is he will survive the procedure."
"But what if-"
"No, no more of this." He held up one finger and pointed at her, his lips pressed to a thin white line. "You're here by your own free will. That doesn't mean I can't remove you from this project. There are no other options. You either get him here by the end of the week or I get somebody else to fill your position."
"No Sir, that won't be necessary", she swallowed thickly.
"I see we understand each other Ms. Stillman. Go get back to work."
"Yes Sir." She turned around as she wanted to leave before she stopped. She hadn't dared to bring up the subject earlier. "There's another thing though..." He looked again at her, his eyebrows rising with curiosity. "Oh?"
"We might have found another one..."
He smiled again and she thought she had never seen anybody looking so terrifying like him at the moment. "Is that so? Same era?"
"Same year actually", she swallowed again and held on to that little notebook in her arms.
"Really?" He licked over his lips and she got sick by the sight. "Someone he knows?"
"Someone he was with at Solomon's Temple."
His eyes narrowed and now she knew how a predator looked like before he killed his prey.
"Perfect."
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