Jogger's Trail the Story (Part 8)

This is Part 8, for previous insatllments please click below:

Joggers Trail - Jogger's Trail the Story - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Passing through the veil, I feel a hollowing sensation that begins in my gut and permeates throughout my body. A burning sensation unlike the one from the realm of Wrath runs through me, this one is different with a less passion-driven sensation.

Upon entering the realm of Greed I find myself sitting at a circular table, the room around me is pitch black. The only light that enters comes from the dim glow of the street lamps, snaking through the blinds and a single hanging lamp that lights the surface of the table and nothing more.

My companion, sitting opposite me is shrouded in shadow. As I assume to be too, the tension between us is palpable as I sit silently staring at his shadowy figure.

My body has been transformed into a thin, middle-aged woman. Dressed in a pin-striped suit that hugs her curves in a flattering, yet intimidating sort of way. The woman’s mind is racing as she fights to hold her stoic exterior, hiding the tidal wave of emotions below the surface.

“This will be a hard-won battle, my child.” Nakos’ voice echoes in my mind, interrupting my transition into this realm. While I continue to observe, looking to place exactly what type of person I find myself inhabiting, someone I assume to be a female mobster. But with uncertainty still hanging in the air, I wait for more information.

“And you’re sure you can live with this Ms Caputo? Because once I give the order, there’s no going back.” The heavy-set man across from us asks in a thick Italian accent.

“Yes, Jimmy and I want it done by next Sunday,” I reply in the woman’s firm, aged voice.

“I’m just saying, he’s family and nothing beats blood,” Jimmy comments, clearing his throat nervously.

“The organization is your family. I am your family. You know nothing of the true strength of blood, only the idea.” I mutter in the woman’s cold voice, practically growling in strained disapproval.

“Now, will you give the order or do I need to schedule a second grave digger?” I inquire, feeling the gravel in my throat as I speak.

“Alright, you’re the boss. I’m just saying it might be easier to talk to your father about this.” He adds, getting to his feet and holding his hands out as if to say he surrenders.

“You know nothing of our relationship, don’t ever question my decisions again.” I snap, feeling the heat rising to our cheeks as we lean back to hide in the darkness.

“I’ll do it, I just don’t like it.” He states, shifting in his stance uneasily.

The woman I inhabit slams her hands on the table and jumps to her feet. “You think I like this?” She questions, looking just over the hanging lamp at the man. “This is the only way we will get what we want.” She growls, glaring daggers at his barely visible eyes in the shadows.

“So be it.” He replies, turning and sauntering out of the restaurant. The bell on the door chimes as it closes and we are left alone.

“This is going to get out of hand quickly, we need to reason with her.” Nakos chimes in, reminding me of my purpose once more.

With a sigh the woman sinks into her chair for a moment, trying to recompose herself. Then stands and we walk to the bathroom, where she splashes cool water on her face in an attempt to try to self-soothe. Her stomach tying itself in knots as though she were about to be sick, the woman’s mind races at the idea that she had just given the order to kill her brother.

Pushing the thought from her mind and drawing another deep breath, she fights to keep the nerves and thoughts at bay.

This is when I make my move to take over her body, but am aware that I will only be able to maintain control in spurts. So while her guard is down I speak to her through our reflection, “Can we live with killing our own brother?”

The reflection holds a look of pity as she watches us until the woman regains control.

The woman I inhabit lets out an audible gasp, rubbing her eyes in disbelief and giving her reflection a hard look. Her brows knit together in confusion, hands on her cheeks as she searches her reflection for another hint of what she thought she saw.

“He’s family, a blood relative. How can you betray blood like this?” I ask, stealing control once more. I place our hands on the vanity and lean in, our shared gaze holding a look of sympathy. Or my best version of it with this woman’s wrinkled features, before she takes back control.

“I’m losing my mind.” She mutters to herself, giving her face another splash of water and shaking her head. Avoiding the gaze of her reflection and looking down to see her hands shaking.

Then with another sigh, she looks up and we lock eyes again.

“You are losing your mind if you think you can live with having your brother killed. Is losing your only sibling worth it, just to feed your hunger for power? For recognition?” I inquire, giving her a scolding look through the mirror.

“I deserve this, after everything I’ve done for the organization. He doesn’t know the sacrifices I’ve made. What does one more really matter, in the grand scheme of things? Especially if I get what’s owed to me.” She mutters, narrowing her eyes in the mirror as though trying to intimidate me.

I let the air hang stale for a moment, letting her think she had beaten me. Waiting for her guard to drop again so that I could fully take control.

The woman begins to turn to leave but that’s when I win out and make her stop in her tracks.

Turning to the mirror, “I’m sorry Ms. Caputo, but I need to take it from here. I can’t let you do this. You can’t kill your brother just to feed your greed.” I say into our reflection, “I’ll give back control when I know you can do the right thing.” I add, fluffing her hair before exiting.

Over the next couple of days, I do my best to stay in control.

It’s tricky as each morning she starts in control and I have to regain it before we leave the house for the day.

I have the privilege of sitting in on meetings with the woman’s father and brother. The entire time I have to listen to her whine about how it’s not fair that he’ll be in charge and she’ll be sidelined.

I do my best to recall the man we hired for the assassination but the woman refuses to help. I know his name is Jimmy and I know his general appearance but that’s not a lot to work with considering she has about five Jimmys in her burner cellphone.

Like what am I supposed to do, text them all and ask Are you the one I hired? Because that would only dig us a deeper hole.

So I am left sitting tight until our paths cross and I recognize him. But that hasn’t happened and the deadline is fast approaching.

“What am I supposed to do if she won’t help?” I ask Nakos in our mind, starting to feel nervous that this might be the peril I fail.

“I don’t know Tesha, I think we’re doing everything we can and we just have to wait.” He replies, a note of worry in his voice.

“What if it happens before we can interfere?” I ask, feeling anxiety begin to build within me.

“It won’t, this realm will give you one more chance to prove yourself. If there were no other avenues, the peril would have ended already.” He says, with less conviction than I’d like.

Fortunately enough, he’s right.

The next day, a family meeting is called. The woman I inhabit thinks it’s for her father to announce who will take over for him. But as we sit down for dinner it becomes apparent that her father didn’t call the meeting, her brother did. This detail not only puts her on edge but almost sends her over it.

I do my best to suppress her panic and maintain the cool, calm and collected demeanour that she is known for.

“Thank you all for coming,” her brother begins, giving his wife a wave to join him at the head of the table. “Jennie and I would like to make an announcement.” He continues, wrapping his arm around her with a look of adoration. “We are expecting a new addition to the family.” He explains, the pair of them placing their hands on Jennie’s stomach, and beaming at the rest of us with pride.

The room is still for a moment and in that moment, the woman I inhabit feels joy that begins to melt the greed inside her. The overwhelming tingly feeling of excitement of a new addition to the family overtakes all other thoughts and feelings.

Then the room erupts in a rush with people getting to their feet, back pats, shaking hands and uttering words of congratulations. The woman I inhabit’s mother is crying in tears of joy which only melts her heart more, with overwhelming family pride.

Suddenly her father rises to his feet, “This announcement has inspired me to make one of my own.” Her father states, fighting the tears that begin to well up in his eyes. “I was going to wait until Sunday at our official meeting but I can’t wait. It’s no secret that I am stepping down from head of our little organization and I was asked to recommend someone to take my place.”

The woman’s gut bottoms out in shock and guilt, watching him move to stand at the head of the table.

“I will be recommending that both Alessandro and Adriana take over in my wake.” He announces with a proud smile, raising his glass in celebration. The tears in his eyes threatening to spill over, now.

The room erupts into more cheers as they all air-toast her father and the woman I inhabit’s stomach flutters in anxious excitement at the recognition of her name. It’s at this moment she starts to regret arranging the assassination. This is when I know I can win her over by playing to her guilty conscience.

I plaster a grateful smile on her face and raise a glass in toast, as the woman begins to panic inside our head. I do everything I can to help her act normal or as I think she would in this situation. Continuing to mime her physical reaction throughout the celebration.

As the party comes to an end that is when I excuse us to the bathroom and know it’s time for a pep talk with Ms. Caputo.

It’s been a big day for news and her emotions are running high. If I can’t persuade her to give up her accomplice now then I never will.

Splashing our face with cool water, I give her a pleading look. “We can’t let that baby grow up without a father.” I begin, swallowing hard. “You’re better off to share the power with him than to take it all and cause your family all that pain.”

“I know.” She admits in our mind.

I toy with the idea of giving her back control but I don’t trust her yet.

“It takes a village to raise a child and you’re about to make that village significantly smaller. Can you live with ruining that unborn child’s life? With ruining your whole family's life?” I inquire, leaning into the mirror with one more look of desperation.

“No.” She admits as I give back control, letting her give her true self a look in the mirror.

“I can fix this.” She states, pulling her phone out and giving Jimmy Two Shoes, as it says on her phone, a call. It goes straight to voicemail, so she sends him a text. Recall the order. She types and sends it off immediately.

“I don’t know what else to do.” She admits, looking helplessly at me in the reflection.

“I’ll take it from here.” I offer, taking back control.

We exit the now quiet restaurant and I sense something in the atmosphere begin to shift. A feeling of foreboding begins to close in, as we turn to see her brother and his wife getting into their private car, across the parking lot from us.

A man dressed in a black trench coat with a large brimmed hat approaches them and we both know what’s about to happen.

The woman I inhabit reacts before I even know what to do. She runs and hurls her body in front of the assassin just as he whips out a gun and pulls the trigger.

I hear a bang and feel our body fall to the pavement, pain radiating from our gut as I lay there beginning to cough up blood.

After a scuffle, the man is overpowered and flees the scene.

The woman’s brother scoops her up and holds her close as our vision begins to fade.

It’s unclear how but I suddenly find myself back in my own body, walking back through the veil into the Hall of Perils.

“Whoa, that was a tricky one.” Mendel comments as Nakos and I take a moment to regain our senses.

“You saw it?” I inquire, still feeling not totally with it.

“Of course, you think we just sit here and do nothing?” Alaric states with an air of annoyance.

“How?” I ask, turning to the doorway as though it might reveal its secrets. Watching the veil change to the greyscale like the others have. Followed by the appearance of the woman’s father smiling at us in pride, holding a glass up in toast.

“The doorway plays your peril out like a TV plays a movie,” Mendel explains as though this wasn’t anything of interest.

“Hmmm.” I hum to myself, suddenly self-conscious of all the choices and things I’d done in each realm.

As if sensing this, “You did a good job getting that woman to change her mind.” Madra mutters in a soothing voice, trying to give me a reassuring smile.

“Thank you.” I accept the praise, giving myself a shake and refocusing on taking on the next task. “Let’s do another, shall we?” I ask, urging my feet to carry on and inspect the last three perils. The remaining doors are sunrise-pink, cantaloupe-orange and sage-green, it takes me a moment to study each before stepping toward the orange-hued doorway.

“What does this one say?” I ask, pointing at the text and finding Madra standing alongside me.

“A selective palate that leads to an intolerance for the mundane. After the first taste, you risk an insatiable hunger that can never be filled.” She mutters looking at the text above us.

“This sounds like another form of greed or maybe Gluttony, rather,” I reply thoughtfully, giving Madra an appraising look.

“I would think so too.” Nakos agrees from behind us.

Glancing over my shoulder momentarily, I get a read of the room and know I need to ask Madra first.

“Tell me about your experience,” I mutter quietly, trying to save her the embarrassment of being called out in front of the others.

“I had a very well-known human that I was charged with being guardian to.” She begins, still looking at the header of the door where the text lay. “Once I got the flavour for second-hand fame, that he earned me, I wasn’t interested in the ones that lead a humble life. To rebel against the gift of the mundane I would neglect those I thought were less deserving and nourish the ones I thought would make something of themselves.” She explains in a weak voice.

I let this information settle for a moment before asking, “Do you want to take on Gluttony with me?”

Madra turns to me and a fire is present in her eyes like I have yet to see. “It would be my pleasure.” She asserts in an unexpected, strong voice.

Nodding to one another, we step through the veil together.

A cold empty feeling washes over me as we enter into the realm of Gluttony.

Part Nine: