A City of Bad Souls

            The first drops of rain began to fall. Otis looked up at the dreary skies and enjoyed the few droplets splashing against his face. It felt refreshing, like a cool splash of water to wake yourself up in the morning. The fine weather was slowly deteriorating and a sharp breeze struck. It dampened the mood but Otis didn’t let it dampen his spirit, so he sang.

“Raindrops keep falling on my head, but that doesn’t mean my eyes will…” He was silenced by a pistol whip to the back of the head.

“Cut it out fruitcake. Show tunes ain’t gonna help you now.”

Maria Giambi was the biggest crime lord in town and she was pointing a gun at Otis’s back.

“So for real this time, any last words?” She jabbed the barrel into the small of his back, edging him toward a six story drop.

“C’mon Maria you’re not gonna kill me. I’m your best performer and I know that deep down you’re a sweetheart.”

She laughed. “Yeah, maybe to people I like. But you...” She gave another jab toward the edge to show her frustration. “You performed drunk ruining my meeting with the Fire Dragon Triad, you insulted my guests to their faces. And worst of all you slept with my son!” She emphasised her last point with another pistol whip.

Otis almost fell to his knees, which would have been catastrophic since his toes were now less than an inch until thin air.

“I would like to say in my defence that you are totally overreacting. Sure I may have had a gin or two and it may not have been my best show but those hunky Asian dudes seemed to get a laugh out of it. And that guy, Bob it think he said, he was a good sport about it. But seriously geez! Did you see his suit? And for the last time Mario came onto me. And just between us you can’t say you didn’t like what you saw.”

Otis was convinced that his speech had saved him. He always thought of himself as a fantastic people person. That’s why everyone loved him. But his obvious charm didn’t seem to work on Maria this time.

She pulled the trigger.

The bullet rocketed into Otis’ back shattering his shoulder blade and tearing through tissue until it popped out the other side in a splatter of blood. Otis began his drop to the concrete alley below, surrounded by drops of rain and blood.

Despite his wishes to die in a uniquely theatrical way, he cursed himself for going out in the grittiest, dirty and clichéd form this city had to offer. But he was briefly relieved to find that his fall felt as if it were moving at an inch per minute and his life began to flash before his eyes. Just like in the movies.

Otis had always dreamed of being in the films. It was why he moved to the big city. He remembered as a child performing one man shows for his uncle every weekend when he came to visit the farm. He remembered sitting on his uncle’s knee afterwards, chewing on a toffee while listening intently as he told Otis of life in the big city. Something inside of him lit up and a dream was born.

Years later after finishing school he collected all his savings and took a taxi to the big city. He spent the coming weeks auditioning in theatres and frequently visiting bars that were rumoured to be common hotspots for directors and producers. But this was all to no avail. With no money and no success he figured he would have to return to the farm. But as luck would have it he was approached by a Woman who he believed to be some sort of producer. It was Maria.

“Hey kid, I heard you was lookin’ for work and you’re a performer. Well it just so happens I might own a hotel with a cocktail bar but no night time entertainment. You in?”

Otis couldn’t believe it. He graciously accepted and began his new lavish lifestyle. The next few months were a dream for Otis but once he had reached his peak things began to fall apart for him.

At first it was just a cranberry martini before a show, to loosen him up. Then it was two. Within a month Otis had fallen into a vicious helix of addiction. He even took the dangerous leap into narcotics. He got his hands on cannabis, ecstasy and he even started stealing from Maria’s cocaine stash. If he had been caught stealing from Maria he could only pray to end up in the situation he was in now.

He began to realise that if his uncle could see him now he would be ashamed. This wouldn’t have been the kind of dreams he had for his nephew. Otis had done terrible things over the last few months. He knew that he was going to hell but never had one drop of regret until now. He didn’t want to die now. He wanted to live and undo all the bad things he had done. But it was too late. A single and final teardrop ran down his face as he reached the end of his dark decent.