Orderly Chaos
By: Omar Imam
Tags: Fiction, Series, Dreams, Orderly Chaos

“The Protagonist”

The room was freezing. The walls were solid concrete and the floor was cobblestone. This MF had a literal dungeon in his house. I clutched the gun in my pocket.

“Welcome, Greed…om. I have long awaited our meeting.” There was a man behind a desk in a spinning office chair. He turned around like that villain from Inspector Gadget; I half-expected to see a cat and a mechanical arm. “My name is Wraith.” He looked up and I immediately froze. It was him, the Maniac Man. “I have a proposition for you, please, have a seat.” He didn’t look nearly as menacing today. He actually seemed… happy? I held the gun tighter in my hand and sat down with my hands in my pockets. I could feel the sweat forming at the top of my forehead, but wiping it away would give away my nervousness.

There was a dim yellowish glow from the lamp on his desk. The room was faintly lit by fake candles attached to candelabras on the walls. It would be pretty fancy, if the room wasn’t catacombs-of-doom-inspired. “I saw that you received your incentive for skipping your… petty job today, did you save it, or spend it well?” I gripped the gun tighter than before… He knew… He f$#%ing knew. I don’t know how, but he knew. “I bought myself,” dammit, I was stammering. I cleared my throat. “I bought myself some nice things. But am saving most of it.” He spoke loudly “You should SPEND IT,” he let out a maniacal laugh. This is why he’s the Maniac Man. I didn’t know his laugh would frighten small children or sound like the devil, but here we were. “There is plenty more where it came from, provided you work for me.”

“What do you mean…? What do you want me to do?”

His laughter stopped, and his voice got lower than before. “There is a manager at your *scoff* “job”, as you call it.” JOB, AS I CALL IT?! THIS MOTHERF… “Her name is Hope. Short. Blonde. Have you seen her before?” My blonde-in-shining-armor? “Yes, I think I know who you’re talking about.” Things just got really REALLY f$#%ing weird, dude. “When she gets off of work tonight, I need you to follow her. Take this earpiece, I will communicate with you over it with instructions. Keep everything that is on you right now with you. Things could get… a bit dangerous.” The vision of Hope in the dumpster flashed in my head. That wasn’t even real, right? I shouldn’t be worried about it?

He obviously knew I had purchased a gun earlier. Was she some kind of drug dealer or gangster? It was hard to imagine a tiny peppy little woman like that being anything but kind, but who knows these days? “What exactly is in it for me?”

“I knew that would be your next question,” he smiled a wicked smile, “how does $400,000 sound? Just for one night of recon?”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“No… I do not… ‘shit’ people, as you call it.” $400,000 dollars?! I had no reason not to believe this guy, given that he lived in a house that looked to belong to a multi-billionaire. “Can I get back to you?”

“No, the Deal is now or never. If you walk out those doors, the money is off the table. I will give you a check for $60,000 dollars right now, and the rest of it when the night is over.”

I wouldn’t have to work at Jasper’s anymore. I would be able to go and do fun things. I would be able to have friends. He just wants me to follow her, that’s not too bad.

“Ok, I’ll do it.” We shook hands, I grabbed the earpiece, and left as quickly as I came. I had some money to make tonight.

— — — — —

This story came to me one day while I took a nap. The dream barely made sense to me while it was happening, but everything I saw and felt is described above. I began writing it out in 2020, on Facebook, as status updates. Then I realized that I should probably do the story some justice and put it out there for whoever might possibly see it to see, and not confine it to my Facebook friends list. It’s a series, and I can vividly imagine the characters and the setting in my head. I’ve decided to start publishing the parts of the story I have so far on here. I don’t know if anyone will read it, but at least I can say I put it out there. Hope never dies.

Here is Chapter 6

Here is Chapter 8

©2021, Omar Imam. All rights reserved.