The Rooftop

The Rooftop 

By Anthony Mendoza 

Duke sat on the ledge of the rooftop, 54 stories above the empty street and sleeping city below. His legs and bare feet swung left to right 600 feet above the ground. He enjoyed being high up and the quiet that came with it.  

He had taken someone’s life earlier. It was a matter of survival but that didn’t alleviate the guilt he felt. Up on the rooftop there was peace. He told himself what happened couldn’t be helped. Death was everywhere. It was necessary for life. Life was kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. That was just the way of the world.  

It was 2am and the most peaceful time of night. The sun would be up in a few hours and the city would be alive again sooner than that. For now, there was silence. Even the birds were still sleeping, only dreaming of bellies full of worms. Sitting on the rooftop, lost in thought, was always the best part of his once-a-month trips into the city. He’d drive from his isolated mountain cabin, complete his task, and come up to the rooftop for the bird’s-eye view. 

How many times had he come up here, he wondered. He had been repeating this monthly routine for so long he quit counting. A decade, give or take? There had been a handful of times when he thought about staying up on the roof and catching a sunrise but the sounds of the city waking always broke his mood. This was not one of those nights and he told himself it was time to go.  He grabbed his shoes and, while still seated, slipped them on. He did this with a natural fluidity that could only come from repetition. He gave his upper body a twist and lifted his legs to spin 180 degrees and stood up on the ledge. He closed his eyes and spread his arms wide as he leaned backward. A life for a life, he thought as gravity took control. 

- - -  

Sara knew cutting through the park so late wasn’t the smartest idea but she was just too tired. If she were to walk the perimeter of the park, even though it was well lit, it would cost her twenty minutes and an extra mile of walking. She was concerned about drunks and the homeless but again, she was just too tired tonight.  

Her usual 3-9 shift was extended two and a half hours tonight because Carlie, her relief, was late. She couldn’t complain too much. For a Tuesday night, the bar was busy. There was a big group of office workers celebrating a birthday with karaoke and lots of tequila shots. That group alone nearly doubled the tips she made most nights. Even still, she was beat. She was on auto pilot as she made her way deeper into the park, internally complaining about the wasted night.  

She wanted to work on her paper for a few hours but that wouldn’t be happening. This meant she’d have to play catch up the next couple of days to not feel anxious during the 3-day weekend. She smiled as she thought about the upcoming lake trip. She was excited for 3 days of sun, swimming, and drinking with the girls. The weather was just getting nice and the forecast looked magnificent. Between school and work she was feeling overwhelmed and felt she needed a break.  

Her smile disappeared when she noticed her surroundings. The 6-foot-wide concrete path was lined with lantern style lights of which only half housed a dully working bulb. The grassy lawn to either side had large elms that blocked the night sky, causing the area to appear even darker. These two factors were enough to put her on edge. When she noticed the figure on the park bench ten yards ahead of her, she was full blown afraid. 

She didn’t break stride as anxiety hit her like a wave. She admitted she was lost in thought but she could have sworn the bench was empty ten seconds ago. Where did that person come from? She could tell by the build it was a man but with such poor lighting he was mostly a silhouette. He sat looking straight ahead, hands folded in his lap. There was a stillness to him that gave her an icy feeling. She wanted to let out a shiver but continued her march home instead.  

When she was three yards away, she tried to sneak a glance at his face, but her eyes wouldn’t budge. Fear had caused them to ignore her brain signals as they continued looking forward. The man remained a statue as she passed him. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it was trying to rip itself from her chest to escape the situation.  

She was relieved as she got beyond him until she realized she couldn’t see him. She tried to sneak a backward glance but didn’t dare to turn her head noticeably. She couldn’t hear any footsteps behind her but that didn’t help as much as she had hoped.  

She had gone ten yards past the weirdo when she finally allowed herself a long, quiet sigh. Her lips started to curl upward into a relieved smile when she felt the slightest pressure on the back of her neck. That was the end of Sara’s worries about work, school or the weekend.  

- - - 

As he fell to the earth below Duke played back the events of the evening. When it came to difficulty, tonight was a three out of ten. He barely had to wait ten minutes in the park before he noticed her. A college aged blonde walking all by her lonesome.  

She was walking with purpose, but her mind was elsewhere. He knew immediately he had found his victim. Moving swiftly through the cover of the trees, he crept ahead of her to find the perfect spot. He found a small stretch of the footpath that was dark enough where he could intercept her unnoticed. He stayed hidden as she approached. He knew he could take her without surprise and be done with this whole thing in seconds but the fear he could cause was just too entertaining to pass up. He didn’t care for this aspect of his nature, yet he couldn’t fight it either. He was a slave to instinct and the predator part of his brain took over. Once he had her, all the nasty business that followed would be nothing more than necessity. 

She was sixty feet from the spot he picked out when he made his move. Silently and swiftly, he advanced to a park bench ahead of her. She was so focused on her thoughts she didn’t notice the movements as he seated himself and waited. She was smiling about something as she looked up. To anyone else, her change in demeanor would have gone unnoticed but he was a pro. He sensed the fear immediately.  

He stayed motionless as she walked past him, her fear at its apogee. It was so intense he had to exert a large amount of willpower to keep from pouncing too early. He allowed himself a slow, deep inhale after she crossed his path. He was satisfied. He stood when she was ten feet past him. He could see the tension escaping her body and knew it was time to get on with business.  

With an unnatural speed he covered the distance between them and in the blink of an eye his left arm lifted, and his hand grabbed the back of her neck. A split second later he gave a slight twist that snapped her neck like a pretzel stick. He threw her over his shoulder and brought her to his car, tossing her lifeless body in the back. From there he drove to his workspace, an abandoned textile factory. As stated earlier, it was nasty business and it’s best to not worry ourselves with this part of Dukes evening.  

- - -  

In the final seconds before his organs and head would be destroyed by the g-force impact he wondered what the others would think of this final act. The younger ones still reveled in all aspects of this predatory existence. They wouldn’t understand. He wasn’t worried about how they’d perceive it though. Most of them didn’t have a quarter of his strength. He knew word could get around and he would appear weak. There weren’t many, but a few were stronger than him. Armitage was one. They never got along. Duke didn’t fret too much because what was done was done. That was his final thought as his body met concrete at over 100mph. 

A life for a life. His way of atoning for tonight’s actions. 

- - -  

His death, of course, was only symbolic. However, the pain of healing was very real. The pain, man’s original currency, was payment. It hurt for his bones to reform, for his internal soup of guts and organs to return to their proper places. Although it held no pain sensors, the worst part was his brain reforming. For a few seconds his thoughts, memories, and base instincts all jumbled together in a horrible confusion. 

Fully healed, he stood and headed toward his car. In the back seat was a cooler containing 10 pints of blood in a cooled box. A months’ supply of sustenance for Duke. In the trunk was his victim's body which he’d deal with tomorrow night. He wouldn’t have to be bothered for 30 days now that tonight was over. 

He knew if he continued his atonements sooner or later, he’d be found out. He’d face those problems when they arrived unless he decided on a sunrise one of these nights. He had confidence in his abilities and his strength. After all, he was ancient. He had witnessed the construction of the Great Pyramids and walked the labor camp that stretched beyond the horizon. He had shopped the Grand Bazaar of Istanbul when it was still Constantinople, but those are stories for another day. 

End