Page 14 of Unlikable

There is no trace of the first rays of the sun when he is startled by the shouts of two men’s voices.

“Eleonora!”

“Felix!”

Frantically, he rises to his feet. His muscles are stiffened by the rain and cold. It takes all the strength in his hypothermic body to pull away from the fence he has been leaning against all this time. Limping, he starts walking away from the gate. His breathing is irregular and he shudders as a raindrop falls into his collar and slides down his neck like an icy kiss. He turns the corner of the alley and hides there. With the night as his cover, he dares to glance at the two men coming running into the alley.

“If we don’t find them now, I don’t know how to explain this to my father,” says the one in the ridiculous dress. His wig is gone, perhaps lost somewhere during the chase. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that they are close and he has no strength left to defend himself, even with a knife. The weather and the waiting have exhausted him.

On the other side of the fence, the girl starts calling out. Not much later, there is the sound of wood scraping over other wood, followed by the squeaky creak of hinges. The gate flies open and the girl emerges. She flies around the neck of the boy in the dress and buries her face in his clothes.

Eleonora…

Where does he know her from anyway? She looks so familiar to him. They both look so familiar to him. In frustration, he almost bites his cheeks.

The other boy, with the dark complexion, disappears through the gate and returns not much later. He supports the boy who should have been dead long ago.

Why on earth is he not dead?

Yes, he had been able to hear almost everything from the conversation between him and the girl. He had been wondering for hours when the boy’s body would give up.

But that didn’t happen.

Anger seizes him. For a moment, he is tempted to emerge and run like a fool towards the foursome, brandishing his knife.

Don’t, don’t. Calm down .

The drug is simply not strong enough. Not for men, at least. He just has to decide for himself whether he is going to optimise it, whether he wants to use it on men.

The girl is also still standing. It doesn’t seem to have any effect on her at all. Perhaps he had put too little in the drink, had not been paying attention.

He knows that is nonsense. He always pays attention. Always.

With itchy hands, he watches them leave, already stumbling down the alley.

Either there is something wrong with his drug, or he had not been paying attention when he administered it into the girl’s glass.

Annoyed, he suppresses a scream. His fist hits a piece of stone. The skin over his knuckles begins to bleed and throb. He stares at it.

Then he looks up with a jerk, away from his bloodied fist.

There is another explanation why the drug does not work on the girl. Assuming that the drug is still too weak for men, but does have its effect on women…Factoring in the fact that this girl got off unscathed….

It’s almost impossible.

But it would explain why she looks so familiar to him.

Out of nowhere and totally unexpectedly, it starts raining harder again. Almost as heavily as before. Thick drops descend on him with great speed, soaking him down to his undergarments.

He doesn’t even feel it anymore.

A knot forms in his stomach as he slowly starts moving again. He needs to be sure. The chances are slim, nil, but not impossible.

A grin emerges on his face. Before he can continue experimenting on the girl still tied up in his room, he needs to wake up the city with a new victim.

As he walks back to his abode, the first rays of sunlight appear in the sky. A new day is dawning. Yes, first the city must wake up. After all, he has been silent for too long.