Tulip - Editors Nemesis and Irish

[Nemesiscafe]

   Corey opened his eyes to a room harsh with light. Pulling the pillows down over his head, he tried to hide from the glare in the room. Exhaling a deep breath, he detected something not quite right with the smell of the linens.  It was an industrialized scent, like a school or a hospital used to do laundry with. With his eyes shut, he rolled the thought of what detergent brand he’d last seen in the laundry might’ve been. Tide, must’ve been Tide. Maybe his wife had picked up something generic at the Aldi’s store she always insisted on shopping at. Laying there still as a stone, he proclaimed to no one in particular “You can eat generic beans, and eat off brand cereal, but you don’t buy no-label detergent, it’s just crap every time!”  Now he felt some agitation and his muscles tensed some.
   He gripped the pillow a bit tighter with the intention of sitting up, and he could feel a definite texture difference.  Something gnawed at the back of his head that this morning was amiss. Pulling the pillow away from his stubble'd  cheeks he opened his eyes and inspected the white mushy object.  This was not his pillow. Glancing about the room, it also became apparent that this was not his bedroom either. He sat motionless, moving his eyes over everything trying to figure out where he was.
The appearance of the room was definitely like one of the better hotels he’d stayed at. Yellow wallpaper with swirly designs on it hung on every wall, rimmed with white baseboards. The textured ceilings had a single light fixture, and at the foot of the bed lay a faux mahogany desk and bureau. The wooden doors of the cheap Chinese furniture piece were open and a large television sat looking myopically back at him. He could vaguely make out his reflection, his distorted body laying in the bed with a large comforter on it. Beside him the desk held his wallet, what looked to be a hotel room door card, and two cups. The two cups intrigued his eyes as he saw one of them had red lipstick pressed on the rim. The water in it bearing silent witness to whoever had been its holder.
   Slipping cautiously from the bed, and becoming very concerned now, he walked about the room. The bathroom was empty as was the closet, save for a toothbrush and deodorant stick.  The one salient feature of the room was a black suitcase made of hard plastic sitting in the corner near the front door.  It glowered at him like a monolith. Corey felt afraid of the suitcase, as though he’d stolen it and at any moment the police would come and take him away. Inside something sunk, and a lump filled his throat. It seemed no matter where he went he could not escape the sight of the ominous object.
   Going now to a window to glance outside, he spied a busy morning street, with lots of cars. The scene didn’t look right for some reason. Seeing some buildings across the way, the signs on them written in English letters but making no sense to him. The words read like German, or French, neither of which he spoke. Backing away from the morning scene, he looked down at the table in the room and there was a letter there. It beckoned to him.
   Taking the white envelope in his hands, he flipped it over several times in his hands; the face said nothing save “Corey” written in black ink a flowing script. The letter was not sealed. It contained a single piece of folded paper. Glancing once more at the window, then back at the accursed suitcase, he pulled the envelopes flap back and pulled out the piece of paper.

   It was written on what appeared to be hotel stationary,  it said “Eurohotel Centrum Rotterdam” and then gave its address.  Seeing it was in The Netherlands caused Corey to stop for a moment and look blankly at the walls then the ceiling. The last thing he remembered was going to bed in his house in McPherson Kansas, making love to his wife and drifting off to sleep in his bed. How he could have possibly gotten halfway across the world to a hotel in The Netherlands, in Europe was beyond him. He didn’t even know where exactly the Netherlands was. Geography had never been his strong suit,  he mused as a vision of a colored map of Europe tried to form in his head.   The totality of the situation was starting to unnerve him. He thought he might need to sit down as he started to feel sick and the world swooned around him.
   Finding a chair he brought the piece of unfolded stationary back to where he could read it. It was written in the same black ink and said

   “Dear Corey
I have to leave now Mon Cher,  I didn’t want to wake you after last night’s adventure. I know you need your rest and I could not bear to look upon your waking face as I leave.
Our worst fear has been realized and Albert has come back. He sent me a message that I should meet him to talk about coming back.
I’ve gone to meet him in Zurich and I fear I may never see you again now. Please forgive me for what I made you do.   I don’t know what is worse, my guilt over what we’ve done or the pain of leaving you forever.
Yours,
Andrea”
   Corey reread the letter a few times, and mused over its contents. He had no recollection of any Andrea’s or Albert’s  he’d known.   His head began to spin again he was so confused.  He felt like he was going to get sick. Grabbing a trash can he waited a moment and choked down bile a few times, and kept his eyes closed till he felt better. He sat there for almost thirty minutes , listening to the traffic outside. At one point his heart nearly leapt from his chest when he heard heavy footsteps and muffled talking outside his room. But whoever it was had kept walking. Glancing at the clock on the bed stand it said it was 10:05 am, wherever it was he actually found himself.
   After another 15 minutes of collecting himself he finally got brave enough to approach the case in the corner. Hoisting it, and deciding it was heavier than it looked he carried it over to the bed Flopping it down it barely bounced, curling the blankets beneath it. It had the old style clasp’s on it which he worked open. It reminded him of his grandparent’s luggage that always seemed impossible to open, his grandfather cursing thru his mustached at it, making his mother blush.

   With a shclack! Sound, the case lid came free. Opening it slowly, Corey had to stop and ponder what he was looking at. It looked like money from a monopoly set but larger. He started to reach his hand out, then an invisible slap of will yanked it back. “Fingerprints” he thought to himself. This money was not his, and he didn’t want to be incriminated in anything illegal. His heart began to race some as he leaned down to inspect it some more. It was Euro’s, in large bills.  By his reckoning there might be close to a million Euros’ in the case. 
   Corey felt sick again, and plopped down right where he stood. This time he did throw up, right into his lap.

[IrishMike84]

   The warm mess soaking into his pajama bottoms snapped Corey out of his dazed state quickly.  Realizing what had happened, he quickly shed the pants and tried to soak up as much retch as he could.  Walking to the bathroom to grab a towel, he gingerly tossed the ruined drawers into the can by the toilet and wet down a small towel to scrub out the mess.  Not knowing if this room was billed in his name made Corey really scrub so he did not have to pay for carpet cleaning in what appeared to be a four to five star hotel.
   Tossing the used towel in with his discarded sleepwear, Corey started the shower and began to tweak the taps to get the right temperature.  As he stood there, he began to feel like there were eyes in the room with him.  He quietly stepped over to the bathroom door and, as he was about to close it, noticed that a suit bag was hanging on a back peg.  It was sleek, black, and said OGER on it along with what he imagined was an address. Opening the bag, there was a full men's suit.  The coat was classic black and had a very nice fabric white shirt to go with it.  A black leather belt, a black bow tie and some silver cuff links were found in a smaller sack in the bottom.  As he inspected the Jacket, he found a passport that he never remembered filing for, and a money clip with only a biohazard symbol on it holding together what seemed to be another wad of euros. 
   The shower continued to run as he looked in all of the nooks and compartments, trying not to miss anything else, and as he looked back over his shoulder, he noticed the mirror had writing on it, apparently shown from the fog his shower was making.
   “Hope they fit, check under the sink, there are two men in a black BMW outside, do not trust them...”
   Immediately checking under the polished marble sink counter top, Corey found what appeared to be a brown paper bag duct taped to the underside.  Opening it, he looked wide-eyed at a pistol in a belt holster with two loaded clips.  It was a Beretta model 8040 Cougar and seemed to fit just right in his hand.  Scanning down the mirror, he noticed more writing, this getting slightly smeared from the dripping humidity on the reflective glass.
   “Checkout is at 11, use the west exit...”
   Setting the pistol down, Corey remembered the shower that had been running the whole time.  Hopping in and almost jumping right back out, he cursed himself for most of the hot water running out.  After quickly scrubbing himself clean, he got out and began to get dressed, trying to figure out why there were so many pieces to his ensemble.
   The clean white boxers fit like they were new and the socks felt great, like new socks do, he silently mused to himself.  Pulling on the hose garters he felt slightly like a fifties businessman getting ready for his day.  As he put on the pants, he moved towards the desk and placed his wallet in his back pocket and the room cards in his right while fumbling with the tag on the expensive leather belt.  Using the hotel deodorant and brushing his teeth felt like the only familiar thing he had done all day, and as he put on his undershirt and buttoned the crisp white dress shirt over it.  Working the belt through the loops on the holster, he opted for it and the clip holders to sit at his back so no one would worry if his jacket flew to the side. 
   As he put on the jacket, he bemused himself by silently humming one of the tunes from a James Bond movie he had seen as a child.  Putting on the cuff links was far easier than the bow tie, and after a few minutes of trying, Corey finally gave up and shoved the fine fabric into his jacket pocket.  Slipping on his shoes, he looked about the room to make sure he did not miss anything.  Snatching up the cups, toothbrush, deodorant, and the soiled linens, he zipped them up in the OGAR bag and held it out away from him as he opened the door and grabbed the black suitcase. 
   Peeking out his door, he saw a few older gentlemen leaving their rooms, and as he looked at his watch, he thanked god he hadn't waited for the water to get warm again.  The watch said 10:45 as he walked towards what he gathered the lobby was by the signs.  Seeing a drop down trash chute, he discarded the fine suit bag and it's belongings to wherever they may go.
   Making his way down the stairs, he politely nodded and said checking out to the desk clerk as he checked the map for the west exit, casually glancing out front for any black BMW just sitting there.  Not seeing much, he made his way through the halls and as the late morning sun hit his face, he set down the case and used the handkerchief in his jacket pocket, wiping  his glasses lens' to help reduce the glare.  Looking around for transportation, he began to walk up to the front of the hotel to flag down a taxi.  Seeing one on the corner, he raised his hand and gave a slight wave.  As the top light turned on and the small black taxi came towards him, Corey gave a slight sigh of relief.  Perhaps he would make it home from all this chaos in one piece...

[Nemesiscafe]

dibs

[oninodachi]

should i be afraid your character has the same name as me

[Cassi Urban]

should i be afraid your character has the same name as me

dude, you just NOW realized they were writing a story about you roflmao!!

[oninodachi]

just shows how much i've been on here lately

[jamesja12]

So... uh... did we just quit this?

[Nemesiscafe]

go for it james

[jamesja12]

 Breathing a sigh of relief, Corey sat on the soft seat of the taxi. "How much to Mcpherson?" He asked the driver. He was wearing a black suit, much like his own. It was then that Corey noticed the other man sitting next to him. He to was in a black suit. Corey's breath quickened and his heart raced. He didn't know why, he was safe right? "Tell you when we get there" The driver said. Something was bugging him, something in the back of his mind.... Corey looked out the window of the car. The car was low, lower than it should be. With a gasp he looked around his souroundings. The vehical was fancy. Then Corey relized that the taxi was... a BMW. Nervously Corey noticed his turn was up ahead. "ta ...Take a... left here." The BMW turned right. Corey was nearly gasping with fright. "You c... can let me out herre. p... please?" The man didn't say anything and the car didn't slow down. Corey threw up yet again. He didn't know why. He always had a strong stomach. The men in black seemed to not notice. Finally Corey broke. He screamed and screamed. Begged to be let go, offered money. Nothing could brake the mens expressions. Finally Corey grabbed onto the man next to him. The man pulled something out of his pocket. He punched corey in the arm, then Corey began to quiten. The last thing he saw beforre unconciousnouse, was a serenge in the mans meaty fist...