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Their fist collided with Vincent's face so hard to the point he got knocked back a bit. Blood was dripping from his nose slightly, tears were also falling a bit from the impact. Before he could get his head back in the game, something hit the back of his head.
Everything was blurry. When his hair was pulled back though, he could clearly feel that. That and the salvia being spat on his face before his hair was let go. It wasn’t even a second before Vincent got kicked in the stomach a couple of times. His breath being stolen out of his body.
Now, his vision was worse than ever—before blacking out. Later, when he finally regained consciousness, he was in pain. He stumbled to get up, his ribs felt like they were shattered porcelain. It was, of course, not a fun feeling. He faltered as he walked along the sidewalks that usually were busy with people doing their normal routine, getting their coffee, rushing to work, etc. His head started to hurt even worse, either from the thought of being stuck in the same old routine or the possibility of a concussion from the beating he got.
Vincent hit the 'walking' button on the sidewalk even though he could easily jaywalk since there was no one around but he really didn't feel like getting hit by a car randomly on top of everything. Being a journalist isn't all of that fun, you get the court cases and the occasional beat down from some company that was corrupt, or a gang of some sorts, if you aren't careful. Also the bosses that get on your ass to constantly publish stories like a machine. Vincent leaned on the pole in order to support his weight while he was at the chance of falling down and kiss the asphalt. 'This is probably one of the most shittiest night of my life', Vincent pondered to himself as the walk sign turned on finally,
'First that horrible tinder date then I get beat down in the fucking park.' He walked past a coffee that was open, smelling like cakes and coffee. He really wanted to go in but good chances his wallet got stolen while he was unconscious. Plus, he was too broke at the moment anyway. He continued on, swearing that one day he would finally go there. When he got to his apartment building, the sky was slowly turning an orange, purplish color signaling the sun will be rising quite soon. Vincent wobbled up the two flights of stairs that seemed too much with his injuries.
When he got to his crusty apartment, with the numbers falling off, he lifted the welcome mat and grabbed the key. As soon as he put the key into the door, Rachel saw him—his next door neighbor that happens to be the Karen of the building—gasped so loudly that the whole apartment building could hear her.
"You shouldn't looking like that. There's children in this building. Have you heard of common decency?" She hissed at him, glaring at him like a hawk.
He rub his temple with his free hand, "Yes, Rachel, I know. I'll get cleaned before anyone else wakes up," He snapped.
"Well," she scoffed, "Good. Now if you excuse me, I have an actually job I need to get to"
She ran into his Vincent's shoulder pretty hard, and on purpose, making him lose his balance a bit.
'Rude much?' Vincent opened his door, then had to shut it quickly as soon he heard his dog come running towards him via click clack of her toe nails. Not very long afterwards his dog came barreling towards him.
"Hey Sugar! I missed you" he said while petting the pit bull. The black and white pit bull loving the attention. Eventually, the lack of actual good sleep start to catch up and the dull, but sharp, pain still pounding into his skull. He lays down on his couch and starts to doze off. There's was so much that had happened in that just one night, maybe couple of hours of actual good sleep could do him some good.
'I really need to take that vacation I've been meaning to take. I could use it after all of this.' He thought to himself as he was starting to doze for a second, everything hurting a little bit less. Peace filling up his mind as sleep takes him away from reality. The silence feeling like heaven.
Knock knock.
Vincent shot right up, a bit alarmed but overall annoyed because he was finally going to get some rest but apparently nope. He sighed and dragged his feet to the, not so far front door to open it. When he did, he saw a certain blonde. Sam. A popular coworker of Vincent's that he absolutely did not like one bit. She would often ask him to work extra hours even sometimes he already works more than forty hours a week and sometimes more.
"Hey, Vincent" she greeted him with a smile with glossy lips.
"Hi, what you doing here Sam?" he stressed.
"My camera man couldn't come in to do the live reporting of the murder that has happened this morning and I thought I could ask you for some help" she offered, her smile faltering a bit.
"Uhm, I'm good especially since it's one of my days off I get," he asserted, just wanting to sleep. "Thanks though."
"Okay, but I think good for you since you could use the overtime" she implied, looking at the inside of his apartment judgmentally. 'She's right about that. Sugar and I could use a nicer area to live in, maybe next to dog park for her.' He thought bitterly.
"Alright but how much overtime are we talking about here?" he questioned.
"Um, I will say about an or two hour of overtime, depending on how it goes" she said, seeming to be in a better mood.
"Fine. What time should I be there?" Vincent asked, just wanting to get it over with.
"In an hour. I will text you where the spot is but until then don't be late." she ordered before taking off.
'At least I am making overtime after this then I wouldn't have to take any deals from her anymore' He bargained with himself in order to not regret his choice.
"I have made a horrible decision" Vincent said out loud while looking at the horrible clown mascot on the entrance banner that said 'Welcome All!'. He took out a cigarette pack from his pocket and his lighter. Honestly, if he hadn't bought them recently then he would be screwed. He took one, lit it, and inhaled the tasteful peace. When he exhaled, he already felt a bit better about doing this. He smoked as he was walking to the spot that Sam had texted him. How she got his number? No idea, probably from work database or the boss.
He took one last long drag off his cigarette before putting it out and throwing the end in a trash can. When he got to the spot, it was extremally bloody and covered in the yellow police tape. Plus where it looked like the body was had a pool of blood. Vincent was so glad he didn't ate at all that morning because the stench was horrid. He looked around for Sam and saw her at the news van. She waved him over and immediately shoved a camera in his arm.
"Get ready to shoot in literally two seconds since you took the scenic route to get here—" her nose bunched up, "Ugh, did you just smoke a cigarette?"
"Yeah, so what?" He questioned her. Her face got slightly more flustered.
"Never mind that, right now. Are you ready" she said urgently, changing the subject.
"Yes because we are starting now," he mentioned as he started the broadcast.
"Samantha Jones here and reporting live from Chuckles Circus. Where a disastrous event had happened. A murder has been committed. The police don't know who is responsible yet but they are working on it as fast they can. All they can say is that they have some evidence but can't release it yet. Now though what they did say was that whoever did this will caught and held responsible for this crime but right now it's best to stay inside and stay safe until they have caught the person behind this, that they can be dangerous. " Sam reported with very minimal reaction, like a statue.
After holding a camera and listening to someone talk for almost a hour. Vincent needed another smoke. Like really bad, especially after all of the news about the recent events like the huge money laundering break, a bomb threat, and a bank heist. All things he had to report.
"Alright, I think that's it" Sam said with her usually sunny smile. Probably just used to smile constantly due to being a reporter expect for smiling on the depressing topics like someone being murdered. Even then, her ability to stay positive after reporting that is impressive or sociopathic. Either one works.
"Imma go now. Unless that wasn't all you had planned for me." he uttered out, taking Sam off guard.
"Oh, yea. That's all I had for you. I'll tell the boss so you can get your overtime." she explained in a sorta monotone voice, her smile completely gone as she grabbed the camera. She started to put stuff away. Vincent felt content leaving, so he took off.
'Jesuses, why was that much more awkward than normal." he wondered, as he put another cigarette in his mouth and lit it. He was just walking along the dead circus ground, making very uneasy especially since it was dead quiet and something about a fair grounds being quiet and dead empty just didn't feel right. Like something was just going to jump at him and pull him into a circus tent and he'll never be seen again. he took drag off his cigarette, now feeling paranoid.
He couldn't help it though. It now feels like someone is seriously watching him. He stops dead in his tracks. He is now looking all around him for some sort of explanation to justify this paranoid feeling. Then something catches his eye, a shadow of some kind. Perhaps a person? Now he was being extremally paranoid and overreactive. 'I'm just jumpy from the lack of sleep' Vincent thought to himself. So, he just buried that feeling and continued walking to his car, ready to leave that place. But before he could take another, step an arm hooks around his neck catching him completely off guard, making him throw the person on the ground. He didn't really expect a clown to be on the ground.