The taking of Torado part 1

Torado was sat in the park, crouched down on the grass that was damp with the dew from the ever nearing morning, sipping on what was now the seventh and final can of Tyskie beer. He was starting to regret the gift of the whole can he had bestowed upon the strange mud covered gentleman he had found lying under the bush not far from where he was now sat. The tramps eyes that had peered out at him from that mud caked face had somehow seemed familiar but Torado could not place from where.

He shook the can, it was less than a third full now, he knew that he only had an hour or two left to get back to the hotel, wash and appear sparkly eyed for breakfast with his team mates if his late night escapades were to remain undiscovered. Torado took another gulp of the warm yeasty liquid and wondered at what point during the last few weeks, everything in his life other than alcohol had ceased to be of any importance, this did not make him feel sad, he was too numb to feel anything apart from a faint lurking sense of guilt that crept up him only to subside with each fresh hit of the warm beer.

As Torado emptied those last few remaining drops out of the red, white and gold can, he started to feel an uneasy feeling slip over him as if he was being watched by someone in the silent park. Looking around in everything direction he stopped as his eyes reached the bridge that led to the abandoned water mill at the eastern end of the park where the beginnings’ of the new day were starting to split the darkness of the night. There almost as if lit by some strange luminescent light stood five men, well at least it appeared as if there were five of them, but he had drunk so much by now it was entirely possible that at least four of them could be hallucinations. Anyway all five of these spectres appeared to be dressed in identical outfits. It was their feet that Torado was drawn to first and their highly polished glistening brown shoes, all seemed to have the same insignia on the front that he could not make out. His eyes worked their way up from the shoes, to bright salmon pink socks again sporting the same indecipherable symbol, then neatly up to perfectly pressed white trousers and matching jackets where again the same symbol was embroidered on to the breast pocket. Then finally he was staring into their faces, there he saw nothing, just white and blank and oval like the moon that was now fighting for its place in the sky. These pale moons seemed to be staring directly back at him and his now empty can of beer; Torado felt the most intense shudder work its way out from his spine until his whole body started to shake. The figures started to move at a slow but purposeful pace toward him, behind them Torado could just start to make out the breaking of daylight, a tiny square of grey light jostling its way past the night, then all he knew was total blackness.