Currency Exchange

A young man in debt hopes to cash in some gold in order to make his way back into the local racket.

The back room of the downtown currency exchange was empty, and I mean empty.  The only light came from a single, dim desk lamp.  It illuminated the folding chair I sat on, and in front of me a desk that was filled with security monitors.  The scene was completely contrary to the mountains of intercontinental cash I imagined when Dagmar, the exotic proprietor had led me into the room only moments earlier.

What difference did any of this make though?  It was divine intervention that had brought me these three bricks of gold; when mere weeks ago I was in deep with my bookie Mike Brodka.  So deep there were few viable options other than packing my s**t, and relocating.  But by some twist of fate one afternoon at Burger King after I’d just finished burying my sorrows in a Whopper.  I noticed a black car pull up to the garbage can outside drop a paper bag inside, and speed off.  

Nothing left to lose; I thought and sauntered out to take a look-see.  Black Tar heroin, fifty little capsules neatly packed into the crinkled paper sack.  I knew it would be dicey, but also easy to unload the junk for a fat roll of green.  Enough at least to get me back in the good graces of Mike; he could never deny his love for my unique bets.  He always loved seeing me make spectacle, or an a*s of myself at the Night Owl Tavern.

I possessed a keen skill for throwing a knife when sober.  Luckily none of the money had gone towards booze, and Brodka seemed to be in a sporting mood.  That night at the Night Owl I was in rare form, a regular f*****g William Tell Jr. with that buck knife.  For once everything worked out in my favor, and I walked away with these three shiny bricks even on top of paying Brodka off. 

Only thing left was to redeem the cash from this odd, yet very agreeable form of payment.  According to Mike this was the only place to do it; all I had to do was slip his name into my introduction.  After these thoughts subsided I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was taking this guy so long.  Suddenly the three monitors in front of me flashed on and off dissonantly for about a minute.

Transfixed, I stared at them like some faultily wired Salvation Army game of Simon.  Then I heard another alien noise emitting from the bottom right monitor which eerily resembled words.  A series of short bursts that sounded like “get out” looped on the only screen still showing snowy static.  I rationalized that it must have been my nerves locked in overdrive, running on fumes.  This was just some ancient equipment that had not been replaced since the days of the Reaganauts.

Then the screen blinked off, and returned showing this very room; at first I thought it was a live feed.  Until I realized that the man in my chair had a seriously receding hairline.  Before I could further speculate the unmistakable figure of Dagmar entered onscreen, he nimbly laid out a tarp behind the chair.  Walking around the chair he stood in front of the balding man.   Without a twitch of hesitation Dagmar pulled a snub-nosed revolver from the inner pocket of his coat, and shot the balding man dead.

As the corpse fell backward onto the tarp the monitor switched off, blank as it was when I had entered.  It was then I saw the full truth; this was just the tip of the iceberg, a setup to lock me in here.  Brodka had only sent me here to make one final collection in the form of my deadbeat a*s.  Panicked I jumped up, and began to scour the room for any form of defense.  Too preoccupied to hear the door creak open as Dagmar entered the room brandishing a blue tarp.   

Reviews

[matrixmark]

Really good short story..build up was perfect. I have always enjoyed the unsettling side of writing. The suspense in this poece wqs brilliant. The monitors flickering off...i loved.

Great piece for a short story

Mark.

[Tina Kline]

This is good horror. Very chilling, it builds nicely to the terrifying ending. Very well writen and easy to read (which is always a plus). Impressive work.