Five years ago, there had been an event so horrific to the mind of my community, but also destructive to the world itself.
My name is Neil McCoy and this is the story of how I had encountered a sadistic person who would only work with the right clients.
It was Portland, Oregon, 2006. I was at a bus stop waiting for my sister's daughter. As I was waiting, I saw a man standing next to me who appeared to be in his 20's.
I simply thought he was just waiting to get the bus so I waited, and waited, and waited. Why wasn't my niece coming? I called her on my cell and impatiently tapped my foot for her voice. But she didn't answer. I looked at my phone, how could she not have answered? Then the man next to me asked,
"She's not there, huh?"
I stared at him. How did he know about my niece? Did he do anything to her? But to my relief, he said, "Girlfriends are bitches man." I let out a breath of relief. Of course he couldn't have done anything to her, that's just silly!
I waited for a couple more minutes before I got tired enough to sit on the bench a couple crosswalks over. The man followed. I decided to strike a conversation with him just in case he was a nice guy. "So, what's your name?"
He smiled and answered, "Turner, Alex Turner."
I immediately thought he was some top business guy to introduce himself like that. "Hello Alex, my name is-"
"Neil..." said Alex.
I paused, and trembled. This is definitely wrong, how the hell did he know my name?
"I know what you are thinking, and yes. You have every reason to be suspicious of me, Neil McCoy."
This was getting too scary, but luckily, the bus arrived. I ran to the stop to pick up my niece, Nicole. He did not follow, and he had disappeared.
The next couple of days, I started to think I saw that man was sent to kill me, but why? One day, at a park, I sat down on one of the benches to relax. And when I turned to see my neighbor, it was him. "Hello Neil. What a surprise to see you."
"Don't you mean to see me again?"
"Again?" He paused. "Of course! I met you before at that stop with your niece. Speaking of which, she is very adorable."
I stood up and grabbed him by the collar. "Listen you, I don't know who you are. But if you don't get the fuck out of this city by tomorrow, I am calling the cops."
He pushed me away and brushed off his shirt. He looked at me and said "Very well, good bye, Mr. McCoy."
And you know who I met the next day? You guessed it.
It was the same park and the same bench. This time, he looked quite different. In fact, he looked the same as when I first met him, and different from the day after. Maybe he puts on makeup or something, sick drag queen, I thought. He stared and said, "Why, we meet again, Neil!"
I looked at him coldly, and chuckled. "You don't get it do you, you son of a bitch?"
He looked confused, and asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Don't get smart with me, fucker. I warned you. And now you pay." I took out my phone and then... Bang!
Screaming was my first reaction to this pain. I had gotten shot in my shoulder both dislocating and shattering it. He walked up to me and kicked me to my side so that I would be laying on my back. He looked at me and said, "You wouldn't dare call the cops on Alex Turner, would you?"
With the last of my strength, I punched him in the mouth and sent him flying on his back. He got up instantly, and laughed a satanic laugh. "Who do you work for?" I asked.
"I'm my own boss, Neil." he replied. "I own my own business and company."
"What's the company, Turner Corporation?"
He stopped laughing. "How did you know...?"
I looked at him, and said, "Are you serious?" before the next gunshot.
I closed my eyes, but felt no other pain than the one in my shoulder. I opened them and saw what happened. Alex had gotten shot. I turned my head around and saw the most contradictory image of my life. It was Alex Turner living behind me, shooting Alex Turner, the dead son-of-a-bitch in front of me. Alex, the living one slowly made his way to me. I didn't get it! He's alive? He has a twin? What? Did he clone himself? What the fuck is going on!?
I asked him who he was and what he is. I screamed it out even when I knew no one would listen. He finally got to me, and took a bow. He put his lips to my ear and said, "Freelancer."
I was too confused to take it in. I fainted and when I came to, he was gone. I awoke a second time in the hospital. What did he mean, Freelancer? I searched it in the dictionary and saw a shortened meaning.
freelancer-n. a self hired individual; a person who works for himself or is self-owned.
Did that mean he hired himself to kill me?
No, that's retarded. This wasn't a Stephen King novel, it was real life. But one day, when I finally came home. and my niece returned home, I saw on the news what had happened.
Here's a little bit of what they said:
"At about 4:54 on July 12th at ******* Park, the man known as Neil McCoy was shot and murdered along with the brother of Alex Turner who-" I stopped.
Brother of Alex Turner... that meant... he was still out there. I watched my windows and doors everyday for about six months. But nothing happened. I knew now what Freelancer meant. He wasn't trying to kill me, he was trying to kill his brother. But why did the brother pretend he was Alex? Unless... they were wrong. And his brother was coming after me. He was trying to kill me or maybe for some other purpose.
He had a company. A corporation. Maybe... maybe he wants me to work for him. Hehehehe. Like that'll ever happen. But then again, I liked the feel of being in a bloody situation. The pain of the bullet in me, it felt exhilarating.
I think... I'm gonna give it some thought. Or maybe I should be... a Freelancer.