Without Form, Void, Darkness

[isaac]

The nature of Midtown was an intricate, dark mystery better left alone to many people who inhabited New York, for good reason, because people were very often afraid of things they couldn't understand and the idea that anyone would want to live in Midtown was unfathomable. But if a curious someone wanted to know just for a moment what life in these streets was like, all they would have to do was take a quick look at the tenement buildings that ran all along the streets, like worn and tired soldiers standing at a lackluster attention. One look at the gray and brick buildings, and you knew what Midtown was: forgotten by God, forsaken by kindness, and void of compassion.

Forgotten by God...

He wanted to pray very often, but the words wouldn't come, and he found himself struggling to remember the prayers that he could recite with immense ease just two years before, the comforting chanting words that put his mind at ease. He stuttered and stumbled as he attempted remembrance, and soon would give up in frustration...prayer was lost to him, and it was little wonder why. His mortal sin, his own brother's blood on his hands, crying out to God for justice...was he punished enough, living as a fugitive and having to fear every day the hell that was waiting for him? Or did God have a more powerful punishment in store, something that would at last make him feel the regret of slaying his only brother? Still another possibility: had God been so vengeful, he had abandoned him altogether?

Forsaken by kindness...

Since the moment he was forced to flee his home that fateful night one year ago, his life had been difficult to live. Always haggling and bartering, stealing when he could, taking advantage of others so they wouldn't have a chance to do the same to him, and somehow though all his lying and cheating he had only come so far. He wondered sometimes why he even bothered with the life he chose to live, if all his dangerous chances still landed him at the bottom of the deck with no way out but to keep playing the game he had sat down to, where the costs were even higher than the stakes. But when this thought crossed his mind, he pushed it away in the realization that he could live in no other way. There was no one with kind words to spare, no one to reach out with a helping hand, and in return, he had no kind words for anyone else. Why should he show the world kindness, for look at what the world has given him? No one would show kindness. Not to a murderer.

Void of compassion...

He had killed Seth in cold blood, the finality of the act stemming from a heated argument that raged between the two brothers that night, while their parents were out to the opera and they were alone. At long last he had charged Seth with turning their brotherhood into a competition, always having to one-up and outshine, upstaging so that all their parents' love was cast in one direction...away from him, and toward his brother. Seth's denial had only increased the fury, and soon, the heavy candlestick was the nearest item to the eldest brother's grasp. After one strike to the skull, Seth was dead. His murderer left the weapon were he had found it, though it was now stained red, and closed the door behind him as he went to the other room, and calmly read. For someone, a young man, to commit such an act and then, a year later, still feel no remorse...was he truly a child of God? Compassion for his dead brother, his mourning parents, and God in heaven...he had none. The world had shown him none. He had never known true compassion. This was the reason that Isaac Montgomery, called "Cain" by his comrades, spent his days in Midtown, walking, stealing, and waiting to die.

Without form...void...darkess.

[Mimi]

The one thing that Mimi was hearing was to stay away from Midtown. She didn't understand what was so bad about a borough, that's just what it was. It was a city in a bigger city, in a state in a country. It sounded harmless, but no. Everyone in Brooklyn warned her about it, even Star, who took risks all the time, warned her about the shady area of Midtown. What she heard was that murderers, thieves, prostitutes, drug dealers and dens, anything that was considered bad was in Midtown. Well, she would decide that for herself.

Mimi was a stubborn and independent person. She didn't like being told to stay in one area. In the evening, I've got to roam. She didn't like being told what she could do and when she could do it. The only exception she made to that was when she was performing. Her stubborn nature lost her many things, and her independent nature cost her her family. Sure, she didn't mind living on her own, but she was only seventeen. She didn't know anything about living on her own until she moved to New York.

She could tell she was in Midtown the moment she stepped foot in it. She got this eerie feeling, a feeling of someone watching you, just waiting to jump. She shook it off and continued walking, pulling down the sleeves of her burgundy dress over her hands to keep them warm. So far Midtown wasn't too bad, sure it was a little rough around the edges, but so was every other borough. It probably just looked creepier because it was at night.

This is what she needed, she needed an escape from the so called perfect lifestyle she had now. Things weren't perfect for her, in fact for the first time in two years she wished she was at home. She was living her dream, but something was missing. She had no idea what was, but she knew something was. It was just this feeling of being empty, knowing nothing could change it. The feeling was awful, and Mimi wished she knew how to fix the problem. She knew how fix everyone else's problems, but no one seemed to care about her. She would give advice to some of the other performers, but when she would ask for advice she got an "I don't know" or "Ask someone else" or "Shut up, and leave me alone". She got the third response a lot more than she got the other two. But when they needed help, Mimi didn't hesitate to help the ones in need.

Oh, and then there were the girls who hated her. For what reason, she didn't know. One didn't like her because Mimi went against that girl's rules, and her lifestyle. She didn't like her because Mimi had a "bad" lifestyle. Sure, before she performed she lived on the streets and had to steal sometimes to live. Sure, she was sorry for that, but that was then, this was now. She didn't need to steal to eat, and she didn't live on the streets anymore. Mimi was sick of constantly being judged because she ran away from home, and lived on the streets. There were worse things she could've done, but she didn't. And what she did wasn't that big of a deal.

A few of the qualities she had that she was proud of were her sense of compassion, her forgiving nature, and how she didn't judge someone for what they did. It didn't matter if what they did was ten years ago, or now, she didn't judge them. It wasn't her place. How could she stand on a pedestal and point fingers at someone when she wasn't perfect? How could she judge someone for running away from home, and now working as a prostitute when she ran away from home two years ago? How some people could do that made her sick...

Now Mimi had a different view on Midtown. Instead of seeing a "bad" place with "bad" people, she saw a mistreated place with misunderstood people. That's what "bad guys" were, right? They were just misunderstood, and sometimes lonely people. She didn't mind being in Midtown now, as long as no one tried anything on her. Even if the people were misunderstood, or mistreated it gave them no right to take it out on her.

As she continued her walk she noticed someone that was walking around just like she was. Maybe they were lost? No...they didn't look like they were lost. She just decided to ignore the person for now, maybe they would approach her first, or maybe they wouldn't do anything at all.

[isaac]

As bereft as the Midtown streets were, Cain knew indefinitely that they were the only home he had, depressing as the fact might have been. The way he saw things currently, Midtown might just be the only real home he would ever know, if you could call such a place a home, because it was only here that no one gave him a second glance. Oftentimes when he felt the need to leave the depressing borough he lived in and ventured elsewhere, people would look up as he passed, sometimes watch him go by with frightened or intimidated eyes, or else bite their lip and duck their heads down quickly, as if pretending they had not seen him at all. Cain had the feeling that although no one knew what he had done, not here anyway, he had a sort of aura about his person that projected murder.

Midtown was the only place he could go where either that cold-blooded air about him was ignored or not noticed at all. It was most likely because everyone in this place was like him: they lived here because no other place would take them, because of their past, habits, vices or ways of life. As forlorn as Midtown was, Cain thought, it could be an oasis if you were a lawbreaker. What better than to be surrounded by others just like you, so that even though you were an outcast, you weren't the only one and perhaps you could find someone just as lonely as you or even two or three people or more, so then you're no longer alone but a family among outcasts. It could happen, Cain thought. And he was actually eager for the day it would.

As much as he kidded himself, Cain was lonely. He sometimes only pretended he was enjoying where his life had taken him. I never made this world, I didn't even choose it...and I know no one said it was fair. But... But he had never been given a choice as to where he wanted to go in life. All his choices were narrowed down to one the moment he held the heavy iron candlestick aloft and then brought it down on Seth. Since that moment, he had done only what he had to in order to keep himself free and alive. And so far, he hadn't been able to be happy while he was doing that.

He was heading back to the warehouse when he spotted someone on the other side of the street. A girl, probably no younger than sixteen or seventeen, taking a stroll. What interested Cain at the sight of her was that she didn't seem like she belonged. She was cleaner than some of the young women who lived in the tenements with their families, and didn't look like an addict to him, and her dress showed off very little, so he doubted she was a prostitute. Then, if not any of those, what was she doing here?

Cain thought back to his secret desire to belong somewhere other than a group of vagabonds. Maybe this girl, whoever she was, might be the next step to finding at least some kind of company. He didn't know how she would react to him approaching her, but he thought it wasn't such a big loss. What have you got to lose, boy, when already you're lost in the wilderness? He crossed the street and stood in front of her, keeping his face blank, but not as hard as he usually did. "Are you lost?" he asked in a quiet voice. "I could help you..." He hoped he didn't sound like a creeper, so he added hastily. "Point you in the right direction?"

[Mimi]

"Are you lost? I could help you..."

Mimi jumped. She didn't want to admit it, but yes, she was scared being in Midtown at night. "N-no, I'm not lost." She shivered slightly. Not knowing if it was because it was cold outside, or if she was afraid. Maybe it was a mixture of both, she couldn't even recognize her own emotions. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm just...walking around." She smiled nervously.

After she said that, she just realized how bad her answer sounded. No one would just want to take a walk around Midtown, unless they lived there. She just wanted to see why everyone thought it was so bad, so far so good. Maybe this young man would change her mind...she didn't know. Hopefully he wasn't some creeper that would attack as soon as her back was turned.

"Point you in the right direction?"

Okay...so he wasn't a creeper, unless he pointed her to the whorehouse that she heard about here. Or if he followed her and attacked. She couldn't trust him...not yet anyway. "No, but thank you for the offer. I'm not lost, I just heard a lot of things about Midtown." She paused, as she looked him over. "I decided to see if those things were true or not." She said in a somewhat calm voice. Of course she was nervous, she didn't belong in Midtown, and she didn't know if this man would hurt her or what. Mimi thought he looked a little threatening, but that's because he didn't show any emotion when he talked to her. She was so used to everyone being melodramatic, and using a lot of facial expressions and wild arm movements to get their point across. He...didn't. Maybe she was just used to that because almost all of the people she saw on a daily basis were in theatre in some sort of way.

[isaac]

"N-no, I'm not lost."

It wasn't that Cain didn't believe her, because it was possible that she was smart enough to come back whatever way she had come and get out of Midtown without a scratch, if that was likely. It was more that she seemed unsure of herself in other ways, and he had the feeling that she wasn't sure what to think of him, the strange young man approaching her so late at night in such a place as Midtown. He could hardly blame her; if he were in her position he wouldn't be too sure what to think either, and he knew that she was probably thinking the worst. At this point, he wouldn't hurt her, because he saw no reason to, but if she started screaming for no reason or tried to defend herself against nothing, he might grab her just to shut her up. The last thing he needed was all of Midtown sticking their heads out their windows.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm just...walking around."

He raised his eyebrows. "Unusual place for a stroll. Wouldn't you prefer a park?" He could think of no sane or morally decent person who would walk around Midtown at night for pleasure, and so far this girl had seemed to him both sane and decent. Perhaps she really was lying about being lost, and she didn't want to admit it to him; he had no way of finding out if the was lying or not. Finally he asked the question that he'd been wondering the answer to since he first saw her. "You're not a whore, are you?" He posed the question casually, as if asking about the weather. Manners and common decency were things he didn't bother himself with, not anymore. If someone didn't like it, they had a disgruntled killer on their hands, end of story.

"No, but thank you for the offer. I'm not lost, I just heard a lot of things about Midtown."

The corner of his mouth stretched up in the beginnings of a smirk. "You, and the rest of New York," he said amusedly. He knew exactly what people said about Midtown, and the people who lived there. But many people were too afraid about what they had heard to really find out what was there. Granted, many of the things that were said were true, but there was always things that were embellished and exaggerated. He regarded the girl again. "You're just one of the many people with questions about a place like this." The innocent ones, he thought, were always curious.

"I decided to see if those things were true or not."

His smirk began to grow wider. "Ah. I see. So you're not only interested in questions, you're interested in answers. You are ambitious." He spread his hands out to either side, gesturing to the scenery around them. "And have you had any of those questions answered yet, or shall I have to answer them for you?" For some reason, the conversation reminded him of Eve and the Serpent...curious and naive, Eve longed to know everything the Tree of Knowledge could teach her. And there was the Serpent, egging her on and offering the knowledge to her.

Read it enough, and your whole life can become the Bible.

So why wouldn't God intervene...?

[Mimi]

"Unusual place for a stroll. Wouldn't you prefer a park?"

Mimi shook her head, "No, I wouldn't. Parks are okay, but...I was just really curious and..." she trailed off. She was making an idiot out of herself. The young man she was talking to probably thought she was out of her mind, or drunk or something...anything but normal. Then again, Mimi was anything but a normal person.

"You're not a whore, are you?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "No, I'm not a whore. I'm a performer, which in some cases it can come pretty close." She said, thinking of times where she would come into a dressing room and a few men would be in there. Some of the girls she performed with crazy, some of them actually worked in the whorehouse in Midtown.

Guess who were the ones telling her Midtown was a bad place?

"You, and the rest of New York,"

"Is that a problem?" She asked, "There's nothing wrong with being curious." As long as it didn't get you into too much trouble, curiosity was just a normal feeling. Except Mimi had a hard time keeping her curiosity and her temper under control. She would go looking for something, then get caught, and then get mad at the person asking her questions on what she was looking for. It was none of their business.

"You're just one of the many people with questions about a place like this."

"Well then why don't you answer my questions?" She asked as she raised one of her eyebrows. That's why everyone was so curious about Midtown. Everyone wanted to know everything about it, but no one had the guts to actually go down to the place and try to find out for themselves. They asked other people, who didn't know as well, and created rumors. That's how the rumors got started, either that or people wanted attention and they made things up.

"Ah. I see. So you're not only interested in questions, you're interested in answers. You are ambitious. And have you had any of those questions answered yet, or shall I have to answer them for you?"

This, was much better. "I am ambitious." She said with a smile, "No, I haven't had all of my questions answered. I've just seen scenery, and I can't judge the people off of the scenery." She learned that very quickly when she stayed in the Bronx lodging house. It was pretty well kept, but almost all of the people there were mean.

She bit her lower lip in thought. "Are people here really as bad as they are shaped up to be?" She asked, "I understand that a lot of the whores, and the druggies are here, but is there not at least one decent person in Midtown? Or are they all murderers, and misfits? Why can't the others learn to accept them, and forgive them for their mistakes? Sure, I can understand if it is a repetitive motion why they would be outcasts, but if they made just one simple, honest mistake, then why?" She asked. Mimi just dumped a lot of questions on the poor guy, she hoped he would be able to give her a straight answer for each question.

[isaac]

"No, I wouldn't. Parks are okay, but...I was just really curious and..."

Cain could see that she was having a difficult time trying to justify being here, and with good reason, because not many people who didn't live her could explain why they had come. Sometimes it was some kid who walked in on a dare, watched by his friends on a street corner that was still considered Manhattan or Bronx territory, and they would watch him go as far in as he could without being killed or kidnapped or mugged or vanishing completely, whatever they thought would happen, Cain didn't know; but he had seen something like this occur several times, and he always got a laugh out of it. Now it seemed that perhaps this girl, whoever she was, really was just curious about what she would find if she crossed the border and went beyond.

"Curiosity," he said softly, nodding to her with lifeless eyes. "Isn't that interesting. It was said that people want to know everything, except what is worth knowing." He glanced away from her, drew himself up straighter, and said, "I hope my time isn't wasted with obvious questions, Miss...?" He glanced at her, indicating that she should give her name. Whoever she was, his statement held true. He was diverted, at least for a time, by whatever this girl had to offer, and at the moment, it was questions. If she ended up wasting his time, he would see to it that she paid for the time she wasted. He wouldn't hesitate to see to it.

"No, I'm not a whore. I'm a performer, which in some cases it can come pretty close."

He found himself grinning in a slightly amused manner. It wasn't like Cain to become truly amused about anything, and normally he was only entertained by concepts, not humored by them. "A lady of the stage, then?" he asked, his tone very nearly mocking. "I see. And I still wonder what a stage actress could possibly be interested in, in a place like this?" It wasn't the fact he wanted to hear her talk again, but he was half-interested in her answer. Part of him couldn't care less, but he had found that he, too, was often curious about things. Possibly one of the reasons he hadn't snubbed her already...they were alike in that way,

"Is that a problem? There's nothing wrong with being curious."

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but at the same time his eyes came to life, twinkling with a malicious mockery. His slight smile faltered, and then was wiped away. "There's nothing wrong with being curious," he said, and folded his arms over his chest. His voice gained a slight taint of menace as he went on. "But if I were you, I would be careful as to what exactly I find myself curious about. You wouldn't want to get in too deep with things beyond your power," he warned. He didn't find the need to elaborate further as he was fairly sure they both knew what he meant.

"Well then why don't you answer my questions?"

"Don't you dare," he snapped quickly, casting a harsh glare in her direction, and then his tone softened and slowed, "demand anything of me. Wait and see what's in store for you if you choose that path, my dear." He would hate to lose his temper with her, as he very nearly had. She wasn't annoying him yet, and if he found that she was merely wasting his time, he knew he would lose his temper with her. Pity. She was quite the pretty girl, too. "But if you insist on knowing, I suppose it's better me you run into than someone who would kill you as soon as look at you." Cain struggled not to grin at this; he would look first.

"I am ambitious. No, I haven't had all of my questions answered. I've just seen scenery, and I can't judge the people off of the scenery."

Cain nodded curtly in agreement. He supposed this would hold true, even though oftentimes he had found that the scenery was just like the people who inhabited it, almost invariably. Those in mansions were as cold as their marble floors; people in the Midtown tenements were as dirty as their streets; young newsboys as naive as the people who ran their lodging houses, providing for children who would never give back. It was all the same, he thought, and to avoid becoming embittered again by the thought he looked at the girl. "A wise decision," he said shortly. Perhaps she was smarter than he'd first thought.

"Are people here really as bad as they are shaped up to be? ... but if they made just one simple, honest mistake, then why?"

As Cain listened to her, he could hardly believe what he was hearing. There was more sympathy in her words than he had heard in his entire life, and she actually spoke of giving the people in Midtown a second chance. Second chances? All Cain knew was prayers that didn't work and bitter circumstances. He found himself having to look away from her, so understanding only because she was naive. "No one," he said sharply, "finds their way into Midtown because of an honest mistake." With the exception of those who were born here, those who came had a past to cover up. All of them did, so no one asked questions.

[Mimi]

"Isn't that interesting. It was said that people want to know everything, except what is worth knowing. I hope my time isn't wasted with obvious questions, Miss...?"

Mimi listened to his somewhat wise quote, and thought about it. It was true, people wanted to know everything except what's worth knowing. She looked back up at his expressionless eyes, "I'm not going to waste your time, if I was I would be asking the dumbest questions right now, like asking what color the sky is. I'm smarter than what you would probably give me credit for." She paused, "And my name is Mimi. What's yours?"

"A lady of the stage, then? I see. And I still wonder what a stage actress could possibly be interested in, in a place like this?"

Mimi's eyes squinted, was he mocking her? It didn't matter if he was or not, there was nothing she could do about it. She was a lot smaller than he was, and she wasn't the best fighter. Arguer, yes, fighter, no. "You know this stage actress might not think the place is as bad as everyone says it is." She said, emphasizing the stage actress.

"But if I were you, I would be careful as to what exactly I find myself curious about. You wouldn't want to get in too deep with things beyond your power,"

What he just said took her aback. She never thought about the danger she was in. She just thought she would go in, look around, and get out. It crossed her mind once or twice, but she told herself it wouldn't happen. A mental image of a crate on its side with her over it, crimson blood staining her burgundy dress, and pale features. Her green eyes staring at nothing with a haunted expression in them. She pushed that thought away. If she thought it would happen, it would.

"Don't you dare, demand anything of me. Wait and see what's in store for you if you choose that path, my dear. But if you insist on knowing, I suppose it's better me you run into than someone who would kill you as soon as look at you."

The haunting mental image came back. Mimi stepped back as if she was about to run away, but didn't when she heard his voice go back to its normal tone instead of the harsh one. "If I'm not doing anything wrong, why would someone kill me? I'm just taking a walk, is that so bad?" She asked.

"A wise decision,"

"I like to think of myself as a somewhat wise person." She said, "I actually have a brain inside of my head. I can't say the same for more than half of the girls in New York City." She smirked. There were two kinds of smarts; street, and book. Mimi was one of the lucky ones who had both. She was privileged enough to go to school when she was younger, and living on the streets helped her become street smart.

"No one, finds their way into Midtown because of an honest mistake."

"Why can't people accept someone who is just different? Just because someone does something wrong once doesn't mean that they should condemn them. Why can't they forgive them, and life goes on? Why do they have to retreat to the "bad" part of town?" Mimi was confused on why people couldn't forgive someone that wronged them, and go on. She had a great sense of compassion for those who went against the grain, and didn't care about what others thought. It was because her mother wronged her, her mother insulted her, and her mother basically disowned her. All because she had a dream of being a stage performer.

[isaac]

"I'm not going to waste your time, if I was I would be asking the dumbest questions right now, like asking what color the sky is. I'm smarter than what you would probably give me credit for. And my name is Mimi. What's yours?"

She was talking too much. Cain didn't particularly like that, but he knew that there was no shutting some people up. It was something he minded quite a bit, and he intended to say something about it as soon as he could. She had to learn that although she wasn't aware of how much she was talking, but other people were, and some people didn't want to listen to her. "You shouldn't talk so much," he said simply. "Sometimes people don't want to hear it." He hesitated before giving her his name. Should he introduce himself as Cain, which is what everyone else had called him since he started his life in New York? The only thing was, that might give away what he had done, which was just as bad as the second option: telling her his real name, and risk discovery, because he wasn't sure who was looking for him or how publicized the story of his brother's slaying was. He decided to compromise. "A pleasure, Mimi. I'm Isaac." Nothing wrong with a young lady knowing his first name.

"You know this stage actress might not think the place is as bad as everyone says it is."

Cain smirked again. "Then you, Miss Mimi, must have been terribly misled." He looked out to the streets and tenements that surrounded them: silent, stony giants looming over danger and lawlessness, disregard for what everyone else thought was right. This was where people went so they could break laws they had no intention of following, and as a result Midtown had become the place it had a reputation for being. "Midtown is everything you've heard and more. If you think something's been embellished, all you have to do is turn a corner to see that it's not." He turned his smoldering eyes back to her. "But I'm talking too much. Any more questions, Mimi?"

"If I'm not doing anything wrong, why would someone kill me? I'm just taking a walk, is that so bad?"

He shook his head. "Sometimes people don't need a reason to kill." In his year of being a resident of Midtown, he had heard stories of men who killed because they wanted to take something away from the world who had taken everything from them. Women who killed because they felt as if they had worked hard their entire lives and got nothing back from it. And then there were those men and women who killed for one reason only: because they could. Cain sometimes wondered where he fit into that grand scheme, and he realized he had killed because he had wanted everything Seth had, and there was no way he could get it.

"I like to think of myself as a somewhat wise person. I actually have a brain inside of my head. I can't say the same for more than half of the girls in New York City."

Cain couldn't argue with her there. He had seen many girls in New York, and it seemed that those that weren't high class with a high opinion of themselves were stupid and ignorant, thinking if they dressed like boys they could fight like them, only to be sorely misled and ending up with their pretty little faces rearranged. But he said to Mimi, "If you're as smart as I think you are, why do you have to use so many words all the time?" Perhaps she was one of the people who used five words where two would do.

"Why can't people accept someone who is just different? Just because someone does something wrong once doesn't mean that they should condemn them. Why can't they forgive them, and life goes on? Why do they have to retreat to the "bad" part of town?"

Looking at her, Cain shook his head. "Wrong again, my dear. You think that people come here just because they have something to hide. Something they did wrong they have to keep away from the world. You'd be right there." He looked away from her for a moment, almost thoughtfully. As he spoke, he sauntered closer to where she stood. "People come here to break laws. They want to break laws. And because of that, it becomes what it is today: a borough of lawbreakers and misfits." His eyes blazed now as he locked them with hers. "Does that answer your question?"

[Mimi]

"You shouldn't talk so much, Sometimes people don't want to hear it."

Speechless would be a good word to describe how she felt right then. She didn't think she talked that much, she knew she was a talker. She figured that out a long time ago, she loved to talk. When she was younger she would follow her parents around and talk until one of them got fed up and yelled at her to do her chores. She wasn't sorry for having an opinion, so she wasn't going to apologize.

"A pleasure, Mimi. I'm Isaac."

"Likewise." She stated, and for the first time she looked him over. He was handsome, and he looked pretty decent. He didn't look like what she had heard all men from Midtown looked like. She heard they had pale, pale skin with eyes as dark as the sky. They had bony hands with long fingernails, almost like claws. Some people told her that when they saw some sort of "prey" they foamed at the mouth and attacked. Of course, she knew that was fiction. Who would be stupid enough to believe that?

"Midtown is everything you've heard and more. If you think something's been embellished, all you have to do is turn a corner to see that it's not. But I'm talking too much. Any more questions, Mimi?"

"So people actually foam at the mouth when they see someone they can attack?" She asked, dryly. "I'm pretty sure that's been embellished. I'm a stage actress, remember? I live with the cream of the crop actresses." The drama that went on backstage was almost overwhelming. Those girls would find any reason to dislike a person, and they would find a reason to get mad. "And no, no more questions."

"Sometimes people don't need a reason to kill."

Mimi thought about that for a moment. "So, some people may think murdering is a game, sometimes? They try to kill the most people, just like some people try to conquer in chess or something?" She asked. Mimi finally felt as if she was understanding what Midtown was all about.

"If you're as smart as I think you are, why do you have to use so many words all the time?"

"Because I have a large vocabulary, and I like to use it." She said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "What do you have against people who talk?" She asked. That was something she was just now starting to wonder about.

"Wrong again, my dear. You think that people come here just because they have something to hide. Something they did wrong they have to keep away from the world. You'd be right there. People come here to break laws. They want to break laws. And because of that, it becomes what it is today: a borough of lawbreakers and misfits. Does that answer your question?"

Mimi's bright green eyes met with his. Finally, someone answered her question. Midtown wasn't full of those condemned from the world, it was full of people who wanted to break the rules, and wanted to get in trouble. Mimi always broke the rules, and went against everything else but not enough to want to spend her life doing that. "Yeah, that answered my question." She stated simply. She didn't want to talk more than she already had, and give him a good reason to be mad at her. "Well, no...one more question, but you probably can't answer it." She paused, "Why?"

[isaac]

"So people actually foam at the mouth when they see someone they can attack? I'm pretty sure that's been embellished. I'm a stage actress, remember? I live with the cream of the crop actresses."

Upon hearing this, Cain could no longer suppress himself. He laughed aloud, a short burst of deep sound like thunder. He looked at Mimi, his eyes sparked to life with an amused twinkle. "Now where did you hear that?" he said, and shook his head. "Are rumors that out of hand about this place? You should clear the record, Mimi. Tell all your actress friends you saw a perfectly charming Midtown gentleman who in fact wasn't rabid..." He usually refrained from making jokes, but hearing such a story had put him in a pleasant mood, something that he usually couldn't obtain. "I should have been clearer. The science-fiction you've heard can be assumed false."

"So, some people may think murdering is a game, sometimes? They try to kill the most people, just like some people try to conquer in chess or something?"

Cain's eyes darkened. "Clearly," he said fiercely, "you don't understand." He kept his eyes trained on her as he said with a great deal of passion, "Murder is never a game, even to those who commit them. It's not a matter of numbers. Taking others' lives can be as addictive as opium...soon it becomes a vice, an obsession. People don't need a reason. They kill for the sake of killing. No chess involved," he spat. It was almost an insult, to think of murder as a game. The singular one he had committed had ruined his entire life and set him on a dead end road. Who was she to compare it to a game? Nothing about it was a game...

"Because I have a large vocabulary, and I like to use it. What do you have against people who talk?"

Cain shook his head. "When you talk too much," he said, "you reveal too much." He rarely spoke to any of the other boys in Midtown who were under Mike D. Greaser's...call it vigilance. He feared that by just discussing what he had with her, he'd revealed too much. He didn't know how much he cared about what she thought, but because he didn't know exactly who she was, or if she really was who she said, he would have to watch his step around her. Who knew who she was acquainted with...?

"Well, no...one more question, but you probably can't answer it. Why?"

His face grew shadowed. "I can answer that," he said quietly. He locked his eyes with hers and said deftly, "Because some people have nowhere else to go."

[Mimi]

"Are rumors that out of hand about this place? You should clear the record, Mimi. Tell all your actress friends you saw a perfectly charming Midtown gentleman who in fact wasn't rabid..."

Mimi nodded, "Some of the people I talk to are like the Queen of Pity." She said. "They embellish so many things, for example, if they get a bruise they will whine about it until they get the attention desired." She said. "Oh, I will make sure that I set the record straight with them, they probably won't believe me. Half of them never do." She squinted her eyes, and looked back up at Issac, not sure if he wanted her to shut up or what.

"Clearly, you don't understand."

She rolled her eyes and sighed, "Yes, I don't understand. I've never murdered anyone, so how can I know how a murderer feels?" She said, sharply.

"Murder is never a game, even to those who commit them. It's not a matter of numbers. Taking others' lives can be as addictive as opium...soon it becomes a vice, an obsession. People don't need a reason. They kill for the sake of killing. No chess involved,"

"Its a vice?" She questioned, "So they're addicted to killing others? Why don't they need a reason then? So if someone wrongs me, should I turn around and kill them? How can the addiction get started, who don't people need a reason?" She asked, she didn't understand why people couldn't just forgive. Then again, that was a hypocritical question. Her own anger was almost eating her up inside, it turned to bitterness, which almost hurt. She never forgave her family, and she never planned on doing so. Mimi was almost ashamed that she was a hypocrite. She could overlook the small things, and not judge those around her, but her family...they were the hardest people to take blows from, and the hardest to forgive.

"When you talk too much, you reveal too much."

Mimi grinned slightly, "I guess that's true. I do reveal too much about myself sometimes. Its just hard going through life without anyone to talk to, so when I get the chance to talk to someone about anything, I'll jump on the opportunity."

"Because some people have nowhere else to go."

His words hit her, hard. She could sympathize with those people, when she first came to New York she had nowhere to go. But that was her own fault, she chose to live on her own. "I don't understand why people can't take others for who and what they are.." She said, sadly.

[isaac]

"Some of the people I talk to are like the Queen of Pity. They embellish so many things, for example, if they get a bruise they will whine about it until they get the attention desired."

Cain shook his head. People who fed off other people's attention didn't deserve any attention at all. If he could get away with hitting people like that for any reason, he had no doubt that he would seize the opportunity immediately. Hell, he wouldn't need an excuse if they got on his nerves enough. "They wouldn't last very long here," he said smugly, "complaining about bruises." If they could complain about black eyes, broken noses and limbs, they would have something to complain about. But then, even if they did, they would be silenced almost immediately. To emphasize his point, Cain pushed back his sleeve to reveal a large purple-black bruise on his arm, and then pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal another on his collarbone. He had gotten them in a not-so-friendly fight with one of Mike's other boys. "Around here, bruises are about as common as freckles."

"Oh, I will make sure that I set the record straight with them, they probably won't believe me. Half of them never do."

"Then don't bother," he said. He didn’t know what kind of person would doubt Mimi's claim that a certain group of people didn't foam at the mouth and attack unsuspecting prey, but apparently, the people Mimi associated herself with weren't exactly the brightest. "It's best we're left alone, anyway. I've seen too many come into Midtown thinking they can survive, and then be whisked off to the whorehouse, mugged, or else killed. It's best that people aren't curious about what goes on here. Ninety percent of it is true." He gave a dry chuckle. "However, if I ever see anyone foaming at the mouth, I'll be sure to let you know…"

"Its a vice? So they're addicted to killing others? Why don't they need a reason then?"

How difficult was it to understand? Cain felt almost as if he and Mimi spoke two different languages. The things that were fundamental and obvious to him were very obscure to her. He was getting tired of explaining, but he couldn't let her walk away with such a warped impression. He tried to think of a good comparison, something that she would understand. "Let me put it this way," he said. "If, in a stage production, you're cast as the lead, it is assumed that you have a great deal of talent. In each production following, doesn't everyone expect you to have a lead? Doesn't it become set in your own mind that you deserve a lead? The only reason there is, is that you've gotten a lead role before. Why not again? " He looked away from her, wondering if his analogy worked. "It's a strange analogy, but it's as close as I can get to truly explaining it…"

So if someone wrongs me, should I turn around and kill them? How can the addiction get started, who don't people need a reason?"

Cain gave a short, humorless laugh. "Murder beings because someone is wronged. It does not occur until someone is wronged to the point where they won't stand for being wronged again. In the mind of the murderer, the act is always justified." Now, unlike some of the other times when speaking about multiple murders an serial killers, Cain was speaking from experience. But he wouldn't let Mimi know that. How would she react if she found out she'd just spent a good amount of time making small talk with a man who had killed his own brother? To Isaac, Seth had crossed one too many lines: always having to be the better child, smarter, more devout, more polite. Years of that, the constant struggle to be noticed in the darkness outside of Seth's little spotlight. And then Seth dared to deny everything he'd so clearly been doing to his older brother? Denying what had made Isaac miserable for years?

"I guess that's true. I do reveal too much about myself sometimes. Its just hard going through life without anyone to talk to, so when I get the chance to talk to someone about anything, I'll jump on the opportunity."

Cain just looked at her. "You see?" he said quietly. "Too much." He now knew, not only the obvious fact that she often revealed too much, but she was also lonely, probably without a family, and desperate for a good conversation with anyone she could, even someone in the middle of the most bereft place in New York City. He was almost inclined to know more--Mimi wasn't as dull an acquaintance he'd first reckoned her to be, and certainly not as weak of spirit, thus a more interesting individual--but he didn't know whether or not he would be bored with her life story. His certainly was no armchair read...

"I don't understand why people can't take others for who and what they are.."

Cain looked skyward momentarily, mildly exasperated. "It's not about acceptance!" he said fervently. "These people are killers, no matter how many times they've done it. Would you want one living next door, or working with you every day? People can't stand people like--the people who live here," he'd almost said people like me, but stopped himself quickly, "because the people, the murderers, can rarely stand themselves."

[Mimi]

"They wouldn't last very long here, complaining about bruises."

Mimi chuckled, "Its very entertaining to watch them fret over a drop of water on their dress." She said, remembering where one girl burst into tears because she was afraid that she just ruined her dress. Mimi, on the other hand, had stains, rips, and tears on her dresses. She was different from the other girls in that matter. She could care less about what she had on, as long as she looked presentable that's all she cared about.

"Around here, bruises are about as common as freckles."

"I can see that." She mused. Growing up on a farm, wounds such as bruises, scratches and scrapes were pretty common. Seeing blood didn't bother her too much. Being the curious person she was, she wanted to know where he had got them from. Mimi decided not to ask, it probably wasn't the wisest thing...

"It's best we're left alone, anyway. I've seen too many come into
Midtown thinking they can survive, and then be whisked off to the whorehouse, mugged, or else killed. It's best that people aren't curious about what goes on here. Ninety percent of it is true. However, if I ever see anyone foaming at the mouth, I'll be sure to let you know…"

Mimi kept quiet, she was trying to keep hold of her mouth. Her tongue was her biggest downfall. She allowed herself to run her mouth, and that got her in trouble. She smiled, but said nothing. Mimi didn't have an answer, and didn't want to make herself seem more unintelligent. Issac probably thought she was an idiot for talking too much.

"If, in a stage production, you're cast as the lead, it is assumed that you have a great deal of talent. In each production following, doesn't everyone expect you to have a lead? Doesn't it become set in your own mind that you deserve a lead? The only reason there is, is that you've gotten a lead role before. Why not again? It's a strange analogy, but it's as close as I can get to truly explaining it…"

Finally, it all made sense to her. "No, no I get it now, thanks." She said with a slight smile. Sure, she still had a few questions but they were very detail oriented. At least now she knew the basics.

"Murder beings because someone is wronged. It does not occur until someone is wronged to the point where they won't stand for being wronged again. In the mind of the murderer, the act is always justified."

Mimi bit her tongue. Mouth shut, mouth shut, mouth shut She repeated over and over in her mind. She understood what he was saying, but he made it sound like murder was okay. Many people have wronged her to the point where she wanted to pull their hair our and throw them off of a bridge, but she didn't do it. Was there a deeper level of hate and anger that made a person snap and become a murderer?

"You see? Too much."

Too much? Mimi thought over what she just said. How was that too much? She just told him she talked too much; an already proven fact. Again, she bit her tongue so she wouldn't argue with him. Somehow it felt like everything she said was wrong..then again, it probably was. She wasn't educated in Midtown and its inhabitants, and he was. So everything that came out of her mouth probably was wrong.

"It's not about acceptance! These people are killers, no matter how many times they've done it. Would you want one living next door, or working with you every day? People can't stand people like--the people who live here, because the people, the murderers, can rarely stand themselves."

There was a moment of silence between them as Mimi thought over what he just said. "Okay, I get it." She finally said. And she did, she understood now. She paused before saying, "Well, thank you for answering my questions. I don't have any more."