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Author Topic: Family Business  (Read 11757 times)

Offline [archive] Grendel8101

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #30 on: December 05, 2005, 01:46:00 AM »
                God had been busy while I’d been sleeping.  The snow was everywhere, freakishly changing the landscape.  Trees were now frosted and you couldn’t see the lines on the streets.  The wind carried it in little phantoms across the roads and by my window.
 
 I was oiling my boots, working the tacky wad into the leather, rubbing it deep into the seams and cracks.  A good pair of boots are hard to find, when you get them you have to take care of ‘em.  Especially in this weather.  Snow will soak in, then dry out, ruining leather.
 
 Gives me something to do with my hands while I think, too.
 I take a pull from the bottle of blood by my hand.  It takes years of drinking blood to sort out the alcohol from the vitae.  I still haven’t figured it out, but it ain’t for lack of trying.
 
 I heard Peppe’ Martinez nearly the moment I woke up.  He was early.  On time would have been suspicious.  Late is a sign of disrespect, but it’s what I had been expecting.  I’d been planning on slapping the little shit around.  On the order of rank, I can be late to meet with him, but not vice versa.
 
 But Peppe’ was early, and that was a whole new breed of dog.  
 
 I finished lathering up the boots and put them on.  The leather was a little slimy, but it would dry up.  I tucked my pant leg over their tops and took another swig from the bottle, then put it back in the fridge.  I wanted to stay sharp.
 
 I picked up the phone and dialed down to the bar.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Send him up,â€? I told Mal.
 
 _____________________________________________________
 Martinez entered the apartment and felt around for the light switch.  He wouldn’t find it, I don‘t keep the switches by the doors, for pure paranoia’s sake.
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Bit-Mr. Bitterman?  You here?â€?
 
 Mr. Bitterman, I like that.  Kid was nervous though, and not so sure of his place on the food chain anymore.  I liked that better.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“C’mon in, kid.â€? I told him.
 
 I heard him moving around, feeling for a switch, a door, anything.  His eyes started to adjust and he peered around the room.  He wouldn’t have been able to see me if it was sunshine outside, though.  I stepped between him and the window, where some light from the streetlamp filtered in, and let him see my outline for a second out of the corner of his eye.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Mr.…Mr. Bitterman?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Over here, kid.â€?
 
 I flipped on the lamp by my chair, turning off my cloak right before the light came on.  Peppe’ blinked away the light, seeing me sitting where I hadn’t been a moment before.  I was wearing my usual Mask, that of me, twenty years older and with a healthy human glow.  People don't take a gun dealer seriously if he looks like he's right out of high school.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry about the lights, kid, I was dozing off before you came in.  Have a beer.â€?  I tossed him a cold one, holding a beer for myself that would just get warm.
 
 He caught it.  Not bad reactions, he must have played baseball before going gangster.  He made a hesitant half-smile and sat down.  Still too young to turn down free beer.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“How old are you, kid?  Seventeen, twenty?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Twenny-two, man.â€? he lied.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Who do you run with?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I used ta be wit Taylor and his boys, but I got too respectable fo’ that crowd.  I’m on my own, I got some boys under me.â€?  Like a lot of gangsta wannabe’s, he loved talking about himself.  Last I heard, the kid had two guys working with him, one was a cousin, the other was his retarded brother.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Listen, Bits-I mean Mr. Bitterman, we got ta' go pretty soon, these guys don' like to wait-"
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Take it easy, bud, I've been doing these deals for a long time now.  We'll go, but I got to show you something on the way.  We'll grab some road beers from downstairs.â€?
 
 We were joking with each other by the time we came down into the bar.  I told him to wait as I went to the fridge behind the bar.  Mal was at the till.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where's Rowdy?â€? I asked
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sleeping.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Call and wake his ass up, make sure he knows what's going on.  I don't like the way this is playing out, so get prepared.â€?  Mal nodded.
 
 I grabbed some Corona from the fridge and made my way back to Peppe’.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“My dawg,â€? he said when he saw the beer, and we exchanged that new high-five, hand grip thing the kids do these days.  As my clientele had gotten younger, I’d had to learn little details like this.  We went out.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ll drive, man, check out my ride.â€?  He walked up to a butchered Impala and positioned his hands like a game show girl displaying a prize.  The car was…horrifying.  It took every ounce of myself to not slap the punk down where he stood.  I bit my tongue, inhaled deeply and let it out.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Nice.  You should see  mine.â€?  I turned around and headed toward the garage.  I saw Mal’s outline in the window, probably grinning.  He’d been waiting for this.  I made a few hand signals Peppe’ couldn’t see.  The car would be gone by the time we got back.  Nobody paints an Impala purple and yellow in my neighborhood and gets away with it.  My next nightmare was going to incorporate those spinning rims, I could feel it.
 
 Peppe’ was calling me “Bitsâ€? again by the time we made it around back, and I was letting him.  He chattered constantly, I punctuated the stream with an appropriate comment at the right times.
 
 I opened the garage and unveiled my beauty.  
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s a bad-ass car, man.  You should pimp this motherfucker, though.  Give it some gangsta‘ styleâ€?  I winced and nodded.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“All in good time, kid.  Let’s go.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don’t know man, I think I should drive, I know the way an all that-â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Listen, Peppe’, I know every street in this town, you point the way and I’ll tell you how to get there.  Besides, I still got to show you that thing I mentioned.â€?
 
 Martinez looked a little uncomfortable, but relented.  I suppose I could have Dominated him, but the less you use your disciplines, the more competent you are, as my Sire used to tell me.  In that respect, the events of last night probably make me pretty damned useless.  In my defense, Claude is a psychotic bastard.
 
 We drove, Peppe’ talked about how tight we’d be after the deal went down, about future deals, about his boys and how tough they were.  He bitched about the cold, my car’s radio, Mal, a bunch of other shit.
 
 We were past the edge of town and into the country by the time he started paying attention.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where we goin’, Bits?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’ll see.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Man, this gotta be important, these guys, they expecting us hours back.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“If this deal is this important, they’ll wait.  Don’t you worry, kid.â€?  I gave him a wide grin.
 
 He started to get silent.
 
 I watched the little snow devils dance across the road, jumping one ditch and joining another.  It was damn near mesmerizing.
 
 I was on a gravel road, and I pulled off onto an abandoned road that wound and twisted into some woods.  Grass grew up between tire marks.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Get out,â€? I told him.
 
 He looked out into the woods, watching his breath steam out like smoke.  I grabbed a shotgun from behind my seat, keeping it in my left hand, hiding it from Martinez.  It was an old, ugly bitch, the stock and the barrel cut off.  The handle was wrapped with duct tape.  She was an old friend.
 
 I tossed him the last Corona.  He was fairly nervous.  His shiver wasn’t just from the cold.  We started walking.  I increased my senses and kept my eyes on the woods.  I’d never seen a werewolf, and wasn’t completely sure they could do everything they were supposed to be capable of, but I wasn’t going to argue the point if one showed up.
 
 Peppe’ started talking again, probably to fill the silence.  I didn’t respond to any of his questions.  He got more nervous.  Then he stopped talking.  He just glanced at me every now and again, quick.  I kept my eyes in front of me.
 
 We went around a curve and were hidden from the road.  I stopped.  Peppe’ walked ahead a ways before he noticed I’d stopped.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“So what were you gonna-â€? he doubled over as I drove my fist into his stomach.  I hooked my leg around his and pushed him to the ground.  The kid started fumbling for his gun, but I’d already taken it.  Desert Eagle.  I hate Desert Eagle’s, they’re big and loud and stupid-looking.  Give me a good 1911 or a .357 revolver any day.  
 
 Or a shotgun.  I didn’t bother pumping it, I knew one was in the chamber.  I stuck the barrel in his face.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What are you doing, man?â€?  his voice quivered.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Killing you.â€?  I kept my voice low, quiet, just loud enough for him to hear.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s the million dollar question, jackass.  You want to know?â€? he nodded.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Tell you the truth, kid, I don’t know.â€?  
 
 His eyes got all confused.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“It could be that this deal is bad.  Could be that I don’t like you.  Could be that you spilled beer on my leather seats.  Could be ‘cause you parked that ugly piece of shit in front of my bar.  I don’t need a reason, bitchcakes, all I need to do is pull the trigger.â€?
 
 Tears started spilling down the sides of his face.  I knelt down and got closer to his ear.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You got this one chance to save your ass.  Tell me what you know about these guys we’re meeting.â€?
 
 Peppe’, so sure he was about to die, grabbed this lifeline like a starving man reaches for bread.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don’t know shit about them.  They called me, I went and saw what they had.â€?
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why’d they call you?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’d been telling everybody I‘s connected.  I told ‘em I knew you.  They didn’t say their names.  Don’t shoot me, man, dat’s all I know!â€?  He sobbed.
 
 He was telling the truth.  He was too scared to lie, and I could hear his heart beat.  It stayed beating pretty fast.
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Get up.â€? I said.  I started walking back towards the car.
 _____________________________________________________
 I glance behind me and sneer.  The fucking new guy is falling behind again.  It’s my turn to babysit him.  
 
 Wallace is ahead of me, Houston is ahead of Wallace.  Thompkins is on point again.  That cocksucker’s just trying to get shot, with how many times he takes point.
 
 I sigh and turn back to the new guy.  His name ain’t important, he’s gonna be dead by tonight with all the noise he’s making.  Too much gear.  A nice guy would carry some of it for him, but I ain’t nice.
 
 I stop and wait for him to catch up.  He’s some baby-faced bastard, straight outta high school and right into the Nam.  Probably signed up.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Keep up and shut the fuck up you little shit.  Charlie’s gonna get a piece of your ass and I’m gonna let him, fuck, I’ll use you like a shield if you let them know where we are, fuckhead.  Ã¢â‚¬ËœBout all your good for out here.â€?
 
 Seems like I have to give him the same damn speech every hundred yards.  He’ll get quiet for awhile, then he’ll get slower as he’s trying to keep quiet, so he‘ll try and speed up and start making noise.  It’s a damn pattern.
 
 I get back to my place in line, nod at Wallace and we move on.  Wallace and I change places, It’s his turn to watch the new fucker.  
 
 The trail turns and I find the rest of the guys stopped, crouched down, looking around, so I get down too.
 
 I look back and watch the trail, waiting for Wallace.  I wait too long.  He must be ragging on the FNG.
 
 I hear a clank and boots clopping along.  I look at the trail and the new guy comes around the bend.  He looks at me and I look at him.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where’s Wallace?â€?
 
 The new guy looks lost, doesn’t know what I’m talking about.  I push past him and go back around the bend and look back, into the jungle.  The trail’s empty.  Wallace ain’t anywhere.
 ____________________________________________________________
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Who’s Wallace?â€?  asked Martinez, a little nervously.  He was real wide-eyed.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Wallace ain’t anybody, kid.  Wallace is dead and gone.â€?
 
  We were already at the car.  I got in and put the car in reverse, Peppe’ had to open the door and stumble in while the ‘Stang was moving.  
 
 I wanted out of there.  It took a lot of effort to keep my hands from shaking in front of the kid.  That was no ordinary flashback.  I shuddered, then glanced at Martinez to see if he noticed.  He was too busy looking straight forward.  It seemed like hours ago I’d stuck a shotgun in his face, but it’d been only a minute or two.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“So where we going, kid?â€?
 
 He lead me to a club near Venice.  It was a long ways.  I was gonna have to fill up with gas before I got back.
 
 I noticed a Lincoln in the parking lot.  Two apes were in it, and they seemed real interested in me.  Must be my cologne.
 
 We entered.
                       

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Bloodreaper33413943

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #31 on: December 05, 2005, 02:13:00 AM »
                Darkness.  It was all the existed, all that mattered.  At least that's what Marie wished.  Mabey tonight would be different.  Mabey she wouldn't have to wake up and deal with the world tonight.  Mabey she could forget... just for awhile.  But it seemed that tonight was not that night.  The darkness around her was broken by beam of light.
 
 "Hey!  You can't sleep here.  You're going to have to leave," said the officer.
 
 Marie grumbled and lifted herself from her spot beneath the bleachers.  She had thought that the abandoned school wouldn't have police checking up on it for at least another week.  Apparently, she was mistaken.
 
 Officer Dawson had expected the trespasser to be one the typical homeless types who tried using these buildings as a place to sleep.  He hadn't expected a teenage girl.  "God," he thought, "she looks about as old as my daughter."  She was only wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt with some rock band on it, and a jacket that looked like it had seen better days.  Not at all fit for the weather outside.  Mabey she was one of those runaways that sometimes turned up.  "Miss?  Are you alright?  Do you need any help?"
 
 For a brief, wonderful moment, Marie almost said yes, almost thought that her problems might be at an end.  But then the horrible truth hit her.  This man couldn't help.  No one could help her with the problems that had come into her life.  This man couldn't make her heart beat again, or relive her of her foul new cravings.  She shook her head rapidly and made to walk by him.  But he grabbed her arm.
 
 "Please miss," he said, despite her stuggles, "I can take you down to the station, get you some warm clothes.  Is there anyone looking for you?"
 
 With a sudden stregth that he hadn't thought possible from her little body, she wrenched her arm from his grasp.
 "Partir de moi!"  She screamed at him.  And she took off running at a pace that Dawson could have sworn was impossible.  He took off after her, but she was gone.  After checking the other rooms in the building, he was forced to give up and head back.  "Pretty girl," he thought, "hope shes okay.  Thats no way for someone to live near Christmas.  What the hell did she yell at me?"
 
 Out on the streets of Crawford, Marie stopped running.  She had put enough distance between herself and the cop.  She took the time to look around at where she was.  It was a typical back alley in the big city.  Forgotten and ignored by the city at large.  Much like those who called alleys like these home.  Outside the alleys mouth, she could see various business advertisinf Christmas sales.  One of the only places that didn't have some catchy slogan on its door was a place called "Charlie's Tavern".  Marie liked this area.  Some of the people who had frequented Charlie's had given her spare change.  men in Santa suits were ringing bells.  The more she tried not to think the more her mind defied her.  She tought of how she would have been back in France by this times.  How she would have been decorating the tree with her mother and little sister.  How she would have complained about having Christmas break only lasting two and a half weeks.  She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop to flow of crimson.  She wiped her face and looked at what passed for tears these nights.  She wiped her hands in the snow.  The skin of her fingers went numb from the cold.  Then again, her hands were always cold these nights.
 
 She opened the pockets of her jacket to see what she had for music.  She browsed through the CDs she had stolen from parked cars.  She picked a particular mix disc that she indetified with these nights.  She noted with displeasure that her player's batteries were low.  Hopefully, she would have enough change to buy more when these died out.  As the player started up, she heard the familer lyrics that she had come to think of as hers.
 
 I walk a lonely road
 The only road that I have ever known
 Don't know where it goes
 But it's only me and I walk alone
 
 As she lost herself in self-pity, she noticed a stray cat about four feet from her.  She crept towards it slowly, making sure not to startle it.  That was difficult.  Animals seemed to sense her predatory intent.  However, this cat looked like it had a limp and was occupied prey of its own.  She reached out and snatched the pitiful creature from its hunt.  It yowled and tried to escape, but Marie's grip was tight.  "Shhh... Bon minet... Bon minet..."  She cooed, trying to calm the creature.  When it quit struggling, she felt the fangs descend for her gums as she bent her head down to it's neck...                        

 

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Offline [archive] munchies.Trooper

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #32 on: December 05, 2005, 05:16:00 PM »
                As an old 1985 ford bronco drove passed an old building in the Mornington business section of Cawford, as the driver of the vehicle  looked to his right he mumbles something to him self and then continues to drive passed the building for another mile or two. As the driver of the bronco moved off into an empty field about two miles away from the building he had chosen just a few minutes ago, the driver stopped the bronco in the field and got out of the car. The driver reaches over into the passenger side of the car and grabbed a semi large brief case with the word Jenny written across the top of the case. The driver then sits the case down to his right side and then reaches into his pockets pulling out a pair of black leather gloves and proceeds to slip them onto his hands, after the driver slips the gloves on he reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a white cloth and starts to wipe down the inside of the bronco. After about 2 minutes the driver had finished wiping down the inside of the vehicle and then grabbed a stick and some rope from behind his seat. The driver then ties the rope to the steering wheel and places the stick so it is wedged up against the driver’s seat and the gas pedal. The driver then reaches underneath the dash board and flips a switch on a carefully placed pack of explosives, as the driver does this  a brief reflection of the timer can be seen on the floor mat because of the melted snow inside the vehicle, the reflection shows that five minutes are left until the explosives goes off. After the driver flipped the switch he places the vehicle in drive and turns away from the bronco as it slowly drives away from him.
 
 As the man leaves the empty field he picks up his brief case and says under his breath “Time to go to work Jenny.â€?
 
 As the man is walking along the street he just traveled a few minutes early the street light can be seen reflecting the light off the snow that has been falling during the day light hours. As the man passes under a street light he can be seen somewhat but he is careful to hide his face. He is dressed in a black trench coat with a blue three peace suit and a pair of black dress shoes with a nice shine on them making it look like he is a business man just leaving the office.   
 
 After 5 minutes of walking the man hears the explosion go off and is unaffected by the noise, he continues walking like nothing had happen. A few minutes later the mysterious man approaches the alley way behind the building he had chosen only a while before. The man looks to his right to see if anyone was looking and quickly sidles down the alley. The man hastens to find a shadowy place to hide and wait. Within about two minutes time a man walks out from the back door dressed in a janitor’s uniform, the janitor pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it. Just as the janitor lit his cigarette the man hiding in the shadows pulls a tranquiller gun from out of his coat and aims it at the janitor, with a quick pull of the guns trigger the dart flies into the janitor’s neck and he falls into the snow. The man comes out from his dark hiding place and sets his stop watch for thirty minutes. The man quickly drags the janitor body to his hiding spot and removes the janitor’s cloths and places his trench coat over the janitor’s body and puts the janitor’s cloths over his suit. The man steps out from the shadows and walks over to the door and slides the janitor’s ID badge into the magnetic reader.
 
 The man grabs the trash barrel and places his brief case inside the barrel and starts to walk towards the front of the building. As the man gets to the front his takes a quick look at the woman who is sitting behind the desk to see what her name was, just then the lady spoke.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Gee Bob that was a fast cigarette.â€? She said with a smile.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I know Cindy but it is just to fucking cold outside to finish one. By the way are the big wigs out of that meeting they where having on the eighth floor?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah they left about 2 hours ago. You are going to get the trash from up their now?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes, could you be a dear and buzz me up.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sure I will see you in a little bit.â€?
 
 As Cindy had said this she pressed the button under the desk to allow the man access to the eighth floor. The man shoves the trash barrel into the elevator with him and then turns around and presses the button for the door to close. After the doors on the elevator had closed the man quickly unscrews the lights in the elevator so it was pitch black, as the doors opened on the eighth floor the man places the trash barrel in the middle of the doors so the doors would not close shut on him. The man then reaches into the trash barrel and grabs his brief case out from inside the barrel, then walks over to a corner office, opens the doors and sets the brief case onto the desk. The man enters his secret combo onto the case to unlock the seals that where keeping Jenny inside the case, the man then lifts the top open to reveal a disassembled 95m .50 caliber sniper rifle inside the foam lined case. He quickly assembles the weapon , goes over to the window and opens the lower part of it, the man flips down the arms on the rifles barrel to prop the weapon up, looks though the scope and mumbles to him self “fifteen hundred meters to target, switching to thermal view.â€? With a flip of a switch on the scope the scope displays the target rooms of people in glowing orange and yellow colors. The man then looks at the read out of the room’s heat index, he mumbles something to him self again. The man gets up really quick and grabs a bullet from the case and then lies back down and slides the bolt back on the gun and places the .50 cal shell into the chamber then closes the bolt. The man lines up his shot to where the cross hairs are focused on the man sitting in the chair. As the man had his shot lined up he says to him self “Ok Jenny time to earn our pay.â€? Just as he said this he pulled the trigger on the gun the only sound that could be heard was the firing pin hitting the back of the shell.
 
 Just then in the building fifteen hundred meters away the man that was sitting in the chair was about to say something to his co-workers when his brain matter and parts of his upper body were splattered all over his desk and people standing in front of  it. The man quickly got up from where he was laying and disassembled his rifle and placed it back inside the case, he looked down at his watch and saw that he had only twelve minutes left before the drugs wear off on the real janitor, he grabbed the shell, placed it in his pocket, closed the windows and put the case back in the barrel and headed down the elevator. As he passed Cindy, she says.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“That was fast?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I have to get something someone spilled a drink up there again.â€?
 
 The man heads back out the door from which he came with case in hand and then goes over to the janitor and switches back out the clothing and quickly walks away towards the main street. As the man gets to the man street he pulls out a cheap prepaid cellular phone and hits the speed dial, when the person on the other end answer the man says.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“The person who slept with your wife is no more, deposit the money into the account I told you about or you will be next.â€?
 
 Before the person on the other end could get a word out the man had hung up the phone, as he was pulling it away from his head he crushed it in his hand. As the man was walking down the street he passed a homeless man warming his hands on burning barrel which was common during the winter months in the East coast. As the man passed by he tossed the shell and the crushed phone into the fire and continued on his way. After a few minutes he stopped at a corner and yelled for a taxi, as the taxi pulled up the man got inside and told the driver to take him the Redbrock. The taxi driver looked at the well dress man and wondered why someone dressed like that would want to go there, but the driver had not had many fairs that night and happily drove the man there.
 
 After about twenty to thirty minute drive the taxi pulls into Redbrock, the taxi driver pulls over and leans over and says to man.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“That will be Twenty-five fifty sir.â€?
 
 The man pulled out thirty dollars, handed it to the driver, got out of the car and started walking to a old beat up apartment complex. As the man enters the complex he heads down to the basement and places the case down on the table that was set up in the middle of the room. By the look of the basement you would think that it was a storage area with the windows all blacked out and there being a tent set up in the darkest corner of the room, but it had to do for now thought the man. Just as the man was slipping on a black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans on, his main cellular phone began to ring. The man picked up the phone off the table next to the case and answered
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Good evening or should I say Good morning being that it is morning for our kind Mr. Davis.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Evening will do Ms. Reynolds, What can I do for you?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I just wanted to say I got your package with the late Mr. Beaumont’s ashes and necklace in the mail today.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Is my payment in the account Ms. Reynolds?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes but of course Mr. Davis or can I call you Mike?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Mr. Davis will due. I know this is not a social call so what is it you need me to do and how much is the pay?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Straight to the point Mr. Davis I like that. Well it appears that Mr. Beaumont had a few childer of his own and I wish to have them you know killed. I will pay you 3 pints of blood for each of his childer that you kill.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Do you have any information on them?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why yes Mr. Davis I sent all the information to your laptop via the encrypted network that the local Dallas nosferatu. Will you accept this contract for me?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes I will send you the remains like last time Ms. Reynolds.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Good just so you know the Mr. Beaumont childer names are Abimelech and Abram Beaumont. I guess the late Mr. Beaumont like rename his childer after him. But the intel will have more information tell next time Mr. Davis.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Indeed.â€?
 
 After the prince of Dallas, Texas had hung up with Mike, he walked over to his laptop and turned it on to see what the scoop was on these two childer of the late Ashton Beaumont was. Mike figured that part of the reason why the prince wanted them dead was for what there sire did to the prince childe. Mike looked over the information that was sent to him and then logged on to his dummy bank account and transferred the money that was just deposited around to different bank accounts and then made sure he had enough money left in the local Cawford bank to complete his task. As Mike finished doing all the things on the laptop he turned it off and picked up the dress suit and walked over to the furnace and placed the clothes inside so the next time the furnace lit up the clothes would be destroyed. Mike walked back to the tent and went to lay in his make shift bed under the tent and pulled out a picture of a man dressed in a Naval officer class A uniform and a woman dressed in a white wedding dress and on the back of the picture it said, Mike and Jennifer Davis married December 31, 1989. Mike put the picture down next to him and said “Some day maybe we can be together again Jenny.â€? With that Mike just laid their thinking of how he can find Ashton childer.
                       

 

-----signature-----
           I do not dare deny The basic beast inside
 It's right here, it's controlling my mind
 And why Do I deserve to die?
 I'm dominated by This animal that's locked up inside
 Evolution by Korn    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #33 on: December 05, 2005, 09:40:00 PM »
                Even though the sun went down not so long ago, the Tremere was already at work for hours. As the chantry head of security, Giles had undergone rituals which enabled him to stay awake during early day hours and allowed him to rise long before dusk, or even to forsake rest on those occasions when his duties demanded his attention during the day. Lately, it seemed, that wasn't enough. With the Sabbat running loose in several states, causing who knows what mayhem, there was very little rest to go between those with responsibilities. Admittedly, the majority of the struggle passed by Cawford, so Giles supposed there was that to be thankful for. Still, he had enough problems for this evening.
 
 The most recent of which being a novicia failing to report back to the chantry last night. Normally that wouldn't have causes any suspicion, as some apprentices maintained secondary havens in the city or were charged with tasks requiring longer periods of absence, however this wasn't the time to go AWOL, nor was the novicia in question one to just disappear without a trace. There were reports of Kindred vanishing in the city for a number of weeks now, and while the missing were mostly drifters and immigrants from the fallen Camarilla cities along the East Coast, there was this incident with two of the chantry's apprentices falling to Lupines not long ago, which had "liquidation" written all over it and until the investigation was concluded, the security level was raised.
 
 Still though, the novicia in question was no neonate. If she still failed to report by midnight though, measures would be taken. And she would explain herself to Giles regardless.
 
 Elsewhere.
 
 Skull pulled his jacket tighter around himself. The vamp blood coursing in his veins was making the cold quite bearable, but he'd still rather be sitting at a bar with a brewsky in his hand than skulk through the dark corners of the city. Then again, skulking was a thrill ever since Nail told him how to use the shadows to his advantage. He couldn't just fucking vanish from plain sight like Nail could (which still blew his mind), but if he was real careful like, he could hide in a doorway, behind a bush, trashcan or something and be just like fucking invisible. And that was real useful in situations like this one.
 
 He'd been following the girl for some time now, not that she had moved around that much, but he wanted to be sure before he ran to Nail with this. Truth be told, until recently, he didn't know much about the vampires and their habits and laws, only what he's been told. Then he slowly started picking some information up here and there, sometimes confirming it with Nail. He knew it was only the tip of the iceberg, but what he learned thus far sufficed to notice this one was not quite right. So he followed her.
 
 Now, he was well aware some vamp... uh, "Kindred", were like all feral and stuff, hunting deer and sleeping in garages like some hobo's, but those were either those form Nail's line, which were all ugly as shit to the last one, or the Gang-something group, who in turn talked to dogs, howled at the moon and grew claws. This kid, although even dirtier than Skull himself, was actually real good looking, and either lost or crazy. He remembered something about insane vampires from back when, but they sounded creepy and scary, which she wasn't. If anything, she seemed scared herself. Skull watched her walk around aimlessly, avoiding chances of running into humans, (uh, "Kine" that is) whenever possible. There was a chance he was way off, but he believed her to be a real fresh one, just turned and confused. From what he'd been told, such vamps ("Kindred"!) were a danger to the whole secret society-thingy, and were hunted down by the bigshots sometimes.
 
 So this one could be looking at a very short vamp life here. It must've been pretty fucked up to be in that place. He briefly wondered what that'd be like, watching her stalk a stray cat, then he smirked and decided this info had to be worth something to Nail's people. If he only knew where Nail was at the moment. If he'd reach him with this, it'd earn him his next fix for sure.
 
 Elsewhere.
 
 Rebecka woke to unfamiliar surroundings and the sound of tiny feet scurrying near her ear. She opened her eyes, disoriented, which didn't improve the situation by a great deal. It took a moment to shake off the remaining daytime drowsiness and gather her bearings. A bit of focus allowed her to pierce the darkness surrounding her, bringing a bit of comfort. She was laying on the floor in a basement or warehouse of some sort, filled with crates, boxes, bottles and the occasional rat, observing her warily. Dusty air lazily crawled out of a large ventilation shaft, water dripped from a water pipe. Some faint light was coming in from a narrow, dirty window a few inches below the ceiling. And for the first time in years, she had no idea where she had awoken.
 
 Well. This was bad. Throwing down the sheet she'd been mostly covered with, she rose to her feet. She wasn't sure about the rest of her belongings, but she certainly could still feel her blade strapped under her coat. Whoever had left her here didn't bother to search her. How stupid was that. Then suddenly her still augmented senses allowed her to make out a voice somewhere above. She focused on it's sound and another joined it. A conversation one floor above her...
 
 "...telling you, like the bitch knew everything!" the first voice came in, ending in a trembling, nervous tone. It sounded familiar. Bleached hair, torn denim and a number of earrings came to her mind. So, her last night's acquaintance hasn't walked out on her. He coughed several times and continued "Fuck, man, I dunno. I dropped my gun... No! Fuck you, not like that, dude. She told me... Hey! ...don't fuckin' look at me like that!"
 
 "Stop the fucking yelling, you dickhead!" the other voice reprimanded in exact same volume "But Jimmy clobbered her, right? So what, not like she going to run to the cops, right? I mean, what is she gonna tell them? 'I was getting my fix and then this guy started following me'? Get real, man, I dunno what you're so freaked out about. That punk last month made a scene too, and nothing happened, right? We leave her where Jimmy knocked her out, and she'll think she passed out on her own fucking stuff. She'll go home a bit more fucking pale than fucking usual and change the fucking locks on her fucking doors maybe. End of fucking story!"
 
 "End of story my ass! You're not listening!" the familiar voice barked back and instantly broke into another fit of coughing "Look, she went down like a log, man, I'm telling you, like a fuckin' rag doll. I was like 'Uh-oh. We killed the bitch' right? So I check her pulse and she's cold, nothing, zing. And Jimmy, Jimmy just froze like fuckin'... Hey, you weren't there, dude. That's not funny, kay?"
 
 "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't be such a pussy. So she's dead, why the hell did you bring her junkie ass in her then anyway? No use of her now, remember the Latin chick? Can't pump them up on the shit if their heart doesn't beat. Should've just drained the bitch and le..."
 
 "Oh, ho ho, fuck that, okay? I fuckin' know we can't, what do you think we was going to do then? Sure I wanted to drain her, but Jimmy started stuttering something and jumping and shit, so I ask what the fuck his problem is, right?" several wet coughs followed "Uh. Then he points at her, and she's got teeth man! I mean our kind of teeth! Long fuckin' pointy teeth. So we grab her and bring her here, right? I mean..."
 
 "You did what?!" the other voice was incredulous "What are you, fucking stupid?! You bring a vampire to our place?"
 
 "Don't be fuckin' calling me stupid! What the hell were we supposed to do? You said there was this whole big-ass organization of vampires in the city, right? Right?! They'd come for our asses if they'd found out we killed one of their people. Think!" There was a pause
 
 "No... No, man. I told you, vampires are dead already. She was dead when you got her." said the second voice, sounding a bit thrown off
 
 "I know, Jimmy whacked her with that lead pipe, I told you you're not listening." said bleached-hair confidently
 
 "No, dude. You've got it all wrong. Look, like I've explained it to you a dozen times already, when a vampire makes another vampire he goes..." then the apparent expert in all-things-vampire remembered they had no time for a lecture at the moment "Err... Never-fucking-mind that! Dude, she's just asleep, like we be when the sun goes down! She could be up any moment! Where's your fucking gun, man, we've got to waste her now!"
 
 "...uh..." bleach-hair suddenly got very reluctant to face 'the scary bitch' again.
 
 Rebecka looked around the room as she heard two sets of booted feet descend a flight of stairs in a hurry. For a fraction of a second she could've sworn the rats snickered as they disappeared into the shadows.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Bloodreaper33413943

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #34 on: December 06, 2005, 04:16:00 AM »
                Marie was just finishing with her "meal", when she heard a noise.  Very faint.  That was what caught her attention.  She had found that in the city, it wasn't the big noises you paid attention to.  It was the barely audible ones that held true importance.
 
 She looked into the shadows of the alleyway and saw nothing.  Since her "change" she had been able to see, hear and smell things at a level that she had never dreamed of before.  But she also had found that if she concentrated, she could raise these senses to unbelievable levels, to the point where she could almost see in pitch black, or hear a pin hit the floor.  The last time she had done this, she had nearly been deafened by a passing semi.  She wasn't in a hurry to relive that kind of experience.
 
 She focused herself, feeling the cat's stolen blood aiding her.  She stared intently at the portion of the alley that she had heard the noise from.  There, she could have sworn that she heard the faint rustle of flesh rubbing against denim jeans.  But no matter how she tried, she could not see the source of this mysterious noise.
 
 She stood and began to walk towards the source, but stopped.  She knew that there were others like her.  Like that one who had done this to her.  She shuddered and pushed that memory away.  The point remained that she did not want to risk threatning a being like herself, a being that might be more aged and powerful than she.  She decided to try diplomacy.
 
 "Bonjour?"  She said, and mentally cursed.  She had to stop falling back on her native language.  "Hello?"  She tried.  Nothing.  Despite her desire to forget "that night", she thought back to anything she remebered about things her attackers had said to each other.  Nothing stood out in her memory except three words.  She remembered the word "kindred" and the words "Toreador" and Brujah.  Kindred had been what they were calling each other, they called one of the males in the group a Brujah and a Toreador was Something that they called that pale American girl, just before she bit her.  Perhaps male kindred were Brujah and females were Toreador?  ugh... she would have to figure that out LATER.
 
 She decided to try the more normal sounding one.  "Hello... kindred?  I mean no harm," she said, holding up her empty hands for emphasis.                        

 

-----signature-----
           When the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Sodom40280831

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #35 on: December 06, 2005, 04:54:00 PM »
                “Oh shit!â€? Skull thought to himself as he looked at the vamp-girl who was staring in his direction. Two voices started going through Skull’s mind. The first voice was clear and simple. It said: “Run man! Bail! Just get the fuck out of there while you still can!â€? The second voice sounded a little more dangerous but made sense somehow: “Don’t be a fucking pussy! Finding this bitch was a stroke of pure luck. Don’t just throw it away now you fucking wimp! She’s feeding on cats for gods sake! How can she possibly be dangerous! You need this man!â€?
 
 Suddenly Skull remembered the phone-number Nail had given to him in case of an emergency. His eyes then turned to the payphone across the street. He figured that if he managed to win the girl’s trust he could give Nail a call and have him come over to deal with her in whatever way these types were supposed to be dealt with. Nail had given him a few “acting lessonsâ€? for use in dealing with situations that required a more “socialâ€? approach. With those in mind he put on his most trusting eyes and stepped from the shadows looking directly at the girl.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Evenin’ lovely night, isn’t it?â€?
 
 The girl stared at him with a look containing a curious mix of confusion, fear and amazement.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“My name is……..well you can call me Skull. And I’m…….â€?
 
 Skull was about to tell her he was a ghoul but he decided that would be a bad idea. If she thought he was a vamp who was he to tell her he was something less. Nail had always told him that when you’re negotiating its always best if the other sees you as better than him or at least as an equal.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Um…I couldn’t help but notice you wandering around here all alone. You’re new to town right? Or at least new to the whole………well you know………bloodsucking thing.â€?
 
 The girl nodded.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I am Marie.â€?The girl said in a rather uncomfortable fashion. Skull cleared his throat before continuing. He never did have much of a touch with the ladies.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay this is good, we’re communicating. Well Marie, we can’t have you roaming around the streets leaving little cat corpses now can we. I know someone who should be able to help you out. Maybe find a nice place for you to stay here in our lovely city. Now I’m just going to go to that payphone over there and give my friend a call so you just be a good girl and stay here.â€?
 
 Skull walked over to the payphone while keeping an eye on Marie. He took a small piece of paper with a phone-number on it out of his left pocket. His hands were jittery, he didn’t know if it was from the cold or the anticipation of another fix. He dialled the number with a huge smile on his face.
 
 Elsewhere
 
 Nail was sitting at his laptop reviewing some info on Bitterman which he found using Schrecknet  while “magic carpet rideâ€? by “Steppenwolfâ€? was playing on the humble stereo-system he had installed in his haven a while back. He was planning on staying in for the night and preparing for tomorrow-night’s mission. He certainly thought he earned it after last night’s little “escapadeâ€?
 
 Well you don’t know what…we can find
 Why don’t you come with me little girl
 On a magic carpet ride
 
 Well you don’t know what…we can se…

 The song was suddenly interrupted by the sound of Nail’s phone ringing. Nail got out of his chair while letting out an annoyed groan. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for socializing tonight. He answered the phone accordingly.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah its me.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Nail! It’s me! You won’t believe this!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Skull? How did you get my……oh, right I gave it to you. This better be good.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh it is! You see there’s this girl and……â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh Christ we’ve been through this Skull. I’m not going to ghoul anyone just because you have a stupid crush.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No it’s not like that, she’s like you. Y’know kindred. I found her roaming the streets feeding off of cats. I’ve been trailing her for an hour or so.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Go on.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well you told me about those vampires who didn’t know anything about the whole vampire society and shit. And might pose a threat because of it.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’re saying this is one?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah man! She’s as green as I don’t know what, she even thinks I’m a vampire! Well at least I think she does but that’s besides the point!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Interesting, describe her to me.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Her name is Marie and even though she probably hasn’t had a bath for some time she looks…well….pretty hot.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“And you’re still following her?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well uuuuuhh..â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“She kind of………saw me.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh great.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“It wasn’t my fault man, she pulled some sort of vamp-shit on me!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Probably auspex. I suspect she’s halfway to Mexico now after getting a load of your ugly mug.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No man. I talked to her, I was all like charming and shit like you said. I’m looking at her right now, I told her I knew someone who could help her out. We’re in Venice near Charlie’s tavern.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well Skull even though I don’t believe that part about you being charming for a second I still have to say: good job. Keep her there, I’ll be over in a few minutes.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Thanks man. Uh you can like….. transform into another appearance right.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah, why?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well she seems pretty frightened as it is so I don’t think it would be a good idea if you suddenly show up behind her with the whole “phantom of the operaâ€? thing going on y’know.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ll try to make myself look presentable for the lady. Now go check up on her before she decides to take off.â€?
 
 As Nail put on his jacket he looked at himself in the mirror and tried on a few of his favourite playboy-masks. He decided to go with a dark-blond twenty-three-year old with a slight goatee and a nice Armani suit. Should be enough to make any woman come running. Now Nail just hoped the girl hadn’t developed her auspex enough to be able to see through the mask. He checked his outfit one more time before dropping the mask and leaving his haven. He would figure out what to do with the Caitiff once he got there.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No rest for the wicked.â€? Nail sighed    
                       

 

-----signature-----
           I'm so serious it's comical!    
                                                  

Offline [archive] munchies.Trooper

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #36 on: December 06, 2005, 10:48:00 PM »
                The wind seem to pick up outside as Mike lay down in his make shift bed under the tent he had set up. Mike was still staring at the picture of his wife that he had lost when he accepted that mission in Asia so many years ago. Mike sat up, placed his photo back in the protective film that he had removed when he was looking at it, then placed his hands over his eyes for a minute and then crawled out from under the tent and walked over to his duffle bag. Mike picked the bag up, walked over to the table, set the brief case and laptop on the ground then placed the duffle bag on top of the table. Mike unlatched the duffle bag and slid out a pair of black BDU paints and top, he removed a pair of combat boots that were neatly polished and a pair of black wool socks which were used to wear inside combat boots to help prevent blisters. Mike continues to empty the duffle bag which contained other various weapons and articles of clothing, As Mike gets down to the bottom of the of the bag he pulls out a black metal case and sets it off to the side. Mike stands their looking over the contents of the duffle bag and wonders what he should take with him on his recon mission.
    
 Mike changes out of the blue jeans and black t-shirt and into the BDU pants and top, Mike picks up one of the knifes that is laying in the pile of things on the tables and slices his hand with the blade Mike rubs a good amount of blood onto the blade just in case someone decides to get a little froggy. Mike places one knife in his left boot and the other in his right boot. Mike looks down at the black case and punches in a code on the keypad of the case, it slides open revealing two M-1911A1 .45 caliber pistols inside. The pistols where modified a little in a way that only special forces where allowed to use them. Mike pulled the guns out of the case and lifted up the foam revealing two silencers that could be attached to the guns. Mike picked up one silencer, screwed it on to the barrel of the gun, and then repeated this to the other pistol. Mike picked up one clip and slid it into the pistol and chambered the round then flipped the safety off the gun. Mike repeated this to the other pistol and then picked up the shoulder holster and slid it on, then slid both guns into the holster, added two extra clips to the empty clip pack that were on the holster. Mike grabbed his ski mask and slipped it into his trench coat pocket, then  slips his trench coat on and grabs his fake detective id which he had gotten from one of the nosferatu back in Dallas, Texas just in case he need to pose as a cop to get to his target. Mike picked up his dog tags with his fallen friends dog tags and clipped them on under his BDU top, grabbed his wallet which he normally kept a few hundred dollars in just in case he had to pay someone for information only if there were too many people around for him to get information out the other way. Taking a look around his place he decides to grab a drink before leaving just to prevent any unwanted frenzy while he’s on his recon.
 
 As Mike is leaving his place he picked up the photo’s he had printed out of the two childer that were his targets, as he makes his way out to the street he looks for a taxi or a car that he can borrow. He sees a taxi parked about two blocks down from where he was standing, and starts to walk towards the taxi. As he gets to the taxi he looks at the driver sitting there listening to his radio in the car. Mike looks the driver over and says.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry to bother you sir but are you taking fares tonight night?â€?
    
 The driver looks Mike over and replies. “Yes, where are you heading tonight mister?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I need to get to Venice; I hear there are some nice bars that are in that area. I figured since this crisp winter air is freezing I would go get some hair of the dog to warm my frozen ass up.â€? Mike said with out even a blink in his eye or any movement of his body to the driver.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sure get in.â€?
 
 Mike gets in the taxi where the driver had the heater turned all the way up to keep the crisp winter air out of the cab. The driver flips the fare light on and slowly pulls away from the corner which he was parked and stared to head towards Venice. After what seemed like a thirty minute drive Mike arrived at Venice and looked to the driver and paid the man his fee. Stepping out of the cab he starts walking down the street looking for a place where the Beaumont childer might be hiding. As Mike walked down the street he noticed that this area was not flashy enough for the childer to hide and if they were, they were not like most Lasombra. Mike walked up and down the streets until he passed a place that made him chuckle a bit as he was looking at a sign that said “Charlie’s Tavernâ€? Mike thought to himself that someone was once in the armed forces to have thought of that name. Mike Walked up towards the door to Charlie's Tavern and procecced to enter the building in a hops that this place would give him a cahnce to thing of a plan to get the Beaumont childer.
 
 As Mike enters the bar, he walks over to the bar and asks the bartender for a bottle of Jack Daniels. The bentender looks at Mike for a minute an then says to Mike.
 
 "That well be twenty dollars and ninty-nine cents please."
 
 Mike lays twenty ones dollars on the bar counter top and grabs his bottle of Jack and makes his way to the very back of the bar to where no one could see him, MIke sits down at the table and opens the of Jack and pours himself a shot and just lets it sit their as Mike pulls out a notebook and starts to write inside of it.                        

 

-----signature-----
           I do not dare deny The basic beast inside
 It's right here, it's controlling my mind
 And why Do I deserve to die?
 I'm dominated by This animal that's locked up inside
 Evolution by Korn    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Bloodreaper33413943

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #37 on: December 07, 2005, 01:44:00 AM »
                Marie waited as... Skull (that was a funny name) made his phone call.  She hoped that this person he was calling could really help her.  Could teach her how to live like this.  After a few minutes, he came back.
 
 "Ok, he's on his way.  Just 45 minutes or so till he gets here.  So..."  he trailed off, not sure what to say.
 
 Marie dug through her jacket and pulled out her disc player and the only disc she hadn't stolen.  "Do you like Rammstein?"  She asked, offering him one of the ear pieces.
 
 35 minutes later
 
 As it turned out, Skull did like Rammstein.  After about 4 song though, the batteries finally died.  Marie decided to take the opportunity to find out more about what she was.  after a few questions, she discovered that Skull knew only a little more than she did.  She did find out a few important things though.  For one, it appeared that kindred did not have special gender term.  They were however, broken up into different bloodlines, or "clans".  She figured that since the girl who had bit her was called a Toreador, she must be one too.
 
 "How did it happen to you?"  She asked.  "How did you become like... like we are?"  She added, seeing his confusion.
 
 Skull's mouth dropped.  "Uh... well... I..."
 
 Marie realized that the memory was probably painful for him.  "I'm sorry.  It's hard for me to think of too.  Did you have family?"
 
 He told her about his parents and little sister, about how he had run away (leaving out the part about becoming a ghoul).  She told him about her family back in France, her own sister, and the school trip that brought her to America.  She decide that Skull was a sweet boy, even if he was a little funny looking.
 
 "Thank you Skull.  For helping me," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.  Skull looked away, almost as if he was ashamed of something
 
 "Well, isn't this touching."  Said a voice from the mouth of the alley.  Skull jerked away from her.
 
 Marie turned and saw a handsome man in an Armani suit.  She gulped and stood.  "Bonjour.  I am Marie.  I am... Toreador?"                        

 

-----signature-----
           When the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #38 on: December 08, 2005, 10:48:00 PM »
                ____________________________________________________________________________________
 Rowdy cursed. He'd just gotten home and was about to shower and get some much needed sleep, but as he passed by his laptop, he felt he should check his mail first. And now he had to leave again, for his source, who had contacted him, wouldn't wait. He grabbed the jacket he'd tossed on the counter just a few minutes ago and threw the larger remaining part of his two day old sandwich in the trash. The phone rang just as he was closing the door behind him. Tough luck, somebody will have to leave a message.
 
 Fifteen minutes later (it would've been ten, were it not for the damned snow) he stood before the bowling alley he was supposed to meet his contact at. Given the hour the place was fairly empty, which was probably the whole point of meeting there. After a moment's consideration, he approached a lone figure standing in the doorway, making a show of sipping from a steaming coffee cup. A man in his late thirties perhaps, thick winter clothing, fitting the average customer's image in every miniscule, forgettable detail. Before Rowdy spoke, the  man nodded at him, and gestured to follow. Several dozen feet away from the brightly illuminated entrance he stopped and turned to Rowdy
 
 "You're late, kid. I was going to leave in a minute." Rowdy shrugged at him. He was still there, so what difference did that make. Besides, the voice and the face were not those that he remembered, hence he kept his guard up. As if sensing his uncertainty, the other man grinned, and his image blurred for a second. When Rowdy's vision focused again, the angular, clan-shaven face was gone, and a pair of wide set lizard-like eyes was looking at him from a unhealthily pale face, yellowed fangs showing in the grin. This face, even if repulsing, was familiar.
 
 "So what did you find out?" Rowdy asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Damn, was it cold.
 
 "Want me to tell or show you?" the Nosferatu grinned and produced a dirty manila envelope from his messenger bag. Rowdy took the envelope and cast a brief look at the content
 
 "What am I looking at here?" he asked, not looking up from the photos
 
 "Last night's 'transaction spot'. Twenty minutes before Massicus' boys arrived. Rowdy whistled shortly. He didn't ask who made the photos, or why, it was beside the point. The Nosferatu zipped up his bag, and hung it back over his shoulder
 
 "That should make us even, eh kid?" he chuckled and turned to leave "Be seeing you."
 
 "We are even." Rowdy replied distractedly, shoving the envelope under his jacket "You still owe Bitterman." The vampire paused. In truth, Rowdy didn't know exactly what kind of debt did the Nosferatu have with Bitter, but this was worth a shot. The vampire stood in silence for a moment and eventually reached into his pocket. Rowdy wondered if this was such a good idea after all, but before he could add anything, the Nosferatu turned around, taking a tattered notepad from his pocket. He flipped through a few pages, and after finding the one he was looking for, tore it out and handed to Rowdy. The ghoul took the offered piece of paper and looked at it questioningly.
 
 "That we do, I guess." said the vampire "This is worth a bit more, but I'm in a charitable mood so what the hell. A few other folks paid for those photos tonight, though you'll be the only ones who know that little tidbit. For a secret operation there's an awful lot of third parties interested, wouldn't you say? Heh, have fun with it. Marry goddamned Christmas." with that the Nosferatu faded into the night. Rowdy looked at the page for a long moment, trying to make out the implications of what he read. By sheer chance, he knew one of the names written down.
 
 "Looks like it's back to "Charlie's" for me." he sighed
 
 Elsewhere.
 
 "Detective Roberts? There's someone here to see you, sir."
 
 "'Someone'? I'm busy, Brooke, tell them to leave a number." Jack said to the speaker and meant to hang up. There was a ridiculous amount of people at the station tonight, even for this city, and he didn't feel like dealing with more than he absolutely had to. People had gone missing up north, a new drug-ring appeared in the city, the old drug-rings took it upon themselves to butcher eachother, the press was on the lieutenant's ass about patrols in Thompson's, the lieutenant in turn was on his ass about pretty much anything AND he'd just been assigned to the nun-killing case. Managing all of this while keeping track of this precinct's "X-files" cases, so that no more than the acceptable amount of weird-vampire-stuff got out to the public... Busy? No, he wasn't busy. 'Busy' had been five hours and three double espresso's ago. He was beat.
 
 Before he did manage to hang up on the receptionist, she said the name of the person there to see him. He was silent for a second, thinking if he should be worried, if he had let something major slip that would warrant this visit, but couldn't think of nothing. He told the receptionist to send them in.
 
 "Jack. I'm not interrupting anything, am I." Sorana made the question a statement
 
 "No, no. Of course not. Come in." the detective got up from his chair instantly, made his way around the paper-laden desk, closed the doors behind the Ventrue and shut the blinds "I've… we've got the Plaza thing under control. There's still the spec-report to be changed, but I've got someone working on it, in a week's time there will be no trace of any..." he said in a hushed tone, but she raised a hand to stop him before he could finish
 
 "Commendable, Jack, but that's not what I'm here for. I'm sure this will be handled with the usual efficiency." the tone of confidence, even if calculated, served to calm the Kine. He was of little use flustered, she needed him sober "What brings me here is something else entirely. A more recent occurrence, in Mornington." the detective's eyebrows rose. How in hell did she, did they, know about that one already? He decided he didn't want to ask.
 
 "I'm told there isn't much evidence to be had, but I'm going to need every piece of it, and any copies thereof destroyed" she said casually, looking briefly through the reports strewn-about the desk. There was no need of putting any hypnotic suggestions behind the request, Roberts was not a drone. He was an employee. And right now her employee was shrugging apologetically
 
 "Uh... I don't think there's anything I can do, sorry." seeing her questioningly raised eyebrow he quickly added "The guy was a fuc… a damned ghost. No prints, no witnesses, no nothing. The ballistics haven't even found the bullet yet. If not for the body, I would have to say there was no crime..."
 
 "Very well..." she said, absentmindedly playing with a letter weight "Still, there is an investigation going on, is there not?" There was "Is there an initial report?" she asked again, looking up at him. There was. "An evaluation?" There was. Detective Roberts cursed inwardly, he was hoping he would finish a few of the really urgent things and go home a bit earlier tonight. But the chances of that just got halves, he knew what she would say next.
 
 "Tell me what you do know then. Every detail, step by step."
 
 Elsewhere.
 
 "Rise and shine, sweetheart. Someone wants to have a chat with you." Pauline said in a sing-songy voice, dropping the bloodied stake she'd pulled from the battered Lasombra's chest. It took a moment for the vampire to register, which was as good a reason as she needed to slap him around a couple of times. He hissed sharply and lunged forward, only to discover the water pipe he'd been chained to was more than sturdy enough to restrain him. The veins on his arms seemed to bulge for a second and a light glow appeared in his eyes, but a short punch to the solar plexus cut him short.
 
 "Now, now. That's no tone to take while an elder is present." Pauline said to his ear, leaning against him firmly. Stepping back, she nodded to the other figure in the room, which's presence the Lasombra hadn't registered before "The haven was clean, as far as interesting stuff goes, but Don sent someone over to torch the place."
 
 "Good. Tell him to keep it small though." the other replied, coming into the light, and taking place on the edge of a crate standing against the near wall. The Kindred's hunched back did nothing to make him less imposing, and the Sabbat didn't need to be told about 'an elder' to know this one was ancient "And this here?"
 
 "No point in mangling, other than for the fun only, or trying to mindfuck him. There's some blood rite in work here, Priest says, so it's either calling in a favor from the warlocks, or the normal means." Pauline answered, moving out of the way
 
 "A tough cookie, hmm?" Hernandez smirked. He took a dirty plastic cup from the table and jabbed a talon into a plasma bag laying next to it. He then held it over the cup and let several drops of blood fall in "I haven't got time to ask twice, so I'll let you think about your answers first. This here may not be the freshest, but in two or three nights, it'll smell like ambrosia, believe me. From my experience, in a week or so you'll be more than delighted to answer any questions for the content of this." he said to the chained Kindred, putting the cup on the edge of the table in front of him. Then he added "You'll come around to see our point in this eventually, I'm sure. And some fasting will clean your head of any dumb ideas of making shit up. But you look positively exhausted all of a sudden. We'll leave your to your thoughts for now."
 
 Elsewhere.
 
 Sorana left the police station content. Not that the detective's information had been particularly insightful, quite the opposite in fact, however in this case that was the way she wanted to have it. Were it not for the Malkavian, neither she, nor anyone would have probably learned of the assassin's presence in the city. Being as it were however, the Kindred, no matter how clean he operated or to how lengths he went not to be noticed, there were always means of knowing. That is why she had taken up the services of the lunatic. He wasn't right with his information (or he didn't convey it in an understandable fashion anyway, sometimes what she discarded as rubbish proved correct, she admitted that honestly) or even most of the time, but those occurrences when he did seek her out with worthwhile information were (mostly) worth sorting through the gibberish.
 
 Now, combining the information she gathered so far, the only conclusion was that this hitman was Kindred, and a competent one at that. In fact, he proved a bit to good for her comfort, as without any clues to his identity or whereabouts, she would have to resort to the oldest method of finding anyone.
 
 Namely looking.
 
 This was a bit inconvenient, as the delay could prove costly, but still, the harder it was to find the assassin, the higher it spoke of him. Or so had someone said. She didn't have experience in anything as base as physical violence or assassinations herself, and why would she. Those were things best assigned to those of lesser standings. Regardless, she needed to act.
 
 The driver had started the car as soon as she entered, and having now received an address he drove off. Sorana meanwhile picked up the secure phone installed in the passenger compartment and dialed a number. The glass separating the front seats from her guaranteed privacy, even if she hadn't been certain of the driver (then again, you could never be quite absolutely certain of anyone's loyalty, especially servants), though she still preferred her private cars to the chauffeured one. Well, she would endure. A voice meanwhile appeared on the other end of the line.
 
 "Justine, someone needs to be found. No. No Nosferatu, no Kindred whatsoever. I need him found through normal means. Yes, Baines will do. Have him contact me, I'll give him the details."
 
 Elsewhere.
 
 An 'interesting' mixture of jazz and industrial music filled the club's interior. The décor left much to be desired in the way of taste, but Bitterman had seen worse. There were a few Kine couples on the dancefloor and a few more at the bar, though the lightening would make it impossible for any of them to recognize the faces of the two men entering, even if anyone had looked up. Clearly this was a place to be not seen together. Making their way through the sparse crowd Bitterman and his guide reached the private lounge area. The bouncer moved silently out of the way when Peppé gestured at the occupant of a nearby table, saying "We're with him.".
 
 "He" proved to be a middle aged man with short graying hair and beard, silver rimmed spectacles perched studiously on the edge of his nose. The clothing and first glance demeanor seemed a bit outdated, perhaps better placed a few decades ago. He appeared to be lost in the observation of the dimly illuminated large water tank occupying the far wall, but he rose from his seat as soon as Bitterman and Martinez were several paces from his table.
 
 "Mr. Bitterman, good evening." he spoke when they reached him. Bitterman picked out a faint trace of European accent "Glad you decided to accept our invitation. Please be seated" he continued and turned to Peppé "That will be all, Pablo, thank you." Martinez looked as if he meant to say something, but after shooting a quick sideways glance to Bitterman he seemed to decide against it, and left after nodding briefly.
 
 "My apologies for that..." the gray haired man spoke, gesturing at Peppé's back "I did not believe Mr. Martinez's claim of being your associate, of course, but messengers of... low station, if you will, have the advantage of being difficult to trace, and the matter at hand is a delicate one."
 
 "You know me. I don't know you." Bitterman said flatly
 
 "Indeed, pardon my manners. Corwin. Eugene Corwin." Right. "However I'm afraid it's not a name you have come across before, as discretion is imperative in our line of… work."
 
 "If you say so." Bitterman replied, raising his eyebrow slightly at 'our line of work' "Well then 'Eugene', why am I here?" he added and paused as a waiter came up to the table and handed him a chart
 
 "Mr. Bitterman," the other picked up when the waiter was safely out of hearing distance "I won't insult your intelligence by explaining of which line of business we are speaking. Without wasting your time with an overlong explanation, my partners and I are currently in the process of branching out our business to this very city, which's market we've found somewhat limited at the moment. I firmly believe in healthy competition, Mr. Bitterman."
 
 "You're looking to set up influence in Cawford, yes. Challenge for you, but I still don't see what this has to do with me." Bitterman interjected, although he actually had a very good idea of what this had to do with him
 
 "Oh, I'm sure you do. As mentioned, while… analyzing the market, we've learned of certain opportunities, some of which we have acted upon, among those a shipment you reportedly have interest in."
 
 "Care to explain what 'acted upon' means exactly?"
 
 "Completed the transaction through legitimate means, of course. We are looking to establish relationships, Mr. Bitterman, not hostilities. If third parties fail to conclude deals and feel slighted by us being more... assertive, let's say, it is out of our hands. The matter at hand is a simple question of supply and demand, after all." 'Eugene' said, shrugging quasi-apologetically at the last part of the sentence.  
 
 "Now, as for the aforementioned shipment" he continued a moment after a couple of Kine passed by their table "your previous supplier not only doesn't currently have the merchandise, but what's more important, he will most likely encounter severe difficulties in acquiring further wares from his source. Seeing as the business relationship to his suppliers has been marred by a recent event, details of which I would hate to bore you with, suffice it to say that some 'tools' lack the proper restraint.
 So what I'm offering is to conclude the transaction you were promised, on more... preferable terms."                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Killer39787726

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #39 on: December 11, 2005, 09:13:00 PM »
                Welcome to Cawford, underneath the flashy façade, its home to a menagerie of killers, overpriced hookers, losers, and dreamers, all waiting for their next big score to get by.
 
 I am stuck, back to the wall while an army of mobsters tries to take me down. They approach uncertain, watching me calmly finish my smoke. With all the snow falling, it was hard to lit, and I am not going to waste it.
 
 I get my guns and blaze a way out. They fall to the ground before they can even point their guns at me.
 
 I holster the guns back and struggle to light another smoke. When I finally succeed, something hits me by the side and makes me fall to my knees. The cigarette falls from my mouth and dies out on the snow. Dammit.
 I stand up and snarl.
 
 Looking up I see the shooter on the firescape stairs above me. He flees to the roof, scared at the sight of my fangs. I race up the stairs with unnatural speed, just in time to see him leaping to the next roof. Hell, I have no patience for this!
 
 I follow him over the next two roofs when he finally trips and fall. He turns and sees me approaching. He is now on his knees and begging for his life.
 
 I take the silver beretta pistol, an old friend of mine, hold it close to his head and pull the trigger. All that comes out of it is a hollow sounding click.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Maybe it’s your luck day…â€? I say to him with a half smile.
 
 He smiles so relieved that almost doesn’t see when I take out the black beretta, another old friend, and blow his brains out.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“…maybe it’s not your luck day after allâ€?
 
 The weather starts to clear. I take the cigarette pack from my jacket and light another one. The whole thing will pass as a drug deal gone bad. Bad guys killing each other. No one will care.
 Something catches my eye. I reach his wallet. A badge. The fucker was a cop, dirty cop. Those guys make me sick. No matter. Get the cell and hit fast dial.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes?â€? I hear her sexy voice on the other end.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s doneâ€? I mumble back and pocket the phone. The brujah doesn’t care shit about me as long as I get the job done.
 
 The man in a Santa’s costume rings a bell and I donate the cop wallet without stopping. Merry Christmas.
 
 Get your ass into the car. It’s badly smashed, has several scratches, burn marks and a few bullet holes, but still is my most prized possession.
 
 Back at the hotel I check my mail box. The payment is there as usual. Nothing big, should last for a week.
 The hotel room is depressingly cheap. Sorry excuse for a haven. It’s all I can afford with the crappy pay. No one will bother me here, not in Redbrock at least.
 
 My stomach is growling. I have to learn to feed on assignments. They all die anyway.
 
 I leave the room and go into this crappy bar near the hotel. I ask the bartender for a whiskey.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What brand?â€? he asks me.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“The cheap brandâ€?. Doesn’t matter, I won’t drink anyway. Can’t stomach it anymore, not like this. I just like the smell, remember how it tasted going down my throat.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Care for some company?â€?
 
 I look to the woman at my side, a hot little thing. She is a nice girl, not like the low-lives around here. She is waiting for the prince in white horse to save her, think I might be it. Stupid girl.
 We went back to her room a few times. I feed on her and she doesn’t remember a thing. Think she has the time of her life.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Get the hell out of my faceâ€? I tell her in a low, angry voice. I don’t even bother to look at her face.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What the hell is your problem?â€?
   
  “My problem? I made a deal with the devil, and when we shook hands, no one told me it would be a forever kind of dealâ€?
 
 That does the trick. She leaves me. In my line of work, attachments are a bad thing. Complications. If we spend too much time together I might start having feelings, and it can turn out messy if she ends up in the wrong side of a contract.
 
 I had a friend once, he was a priest. He used to say that if you do bad things, you will pay for it, not by the hand of man, but by the hand of God.
 I must have done something real bad. I was a cop, arresting the bad guys. Had a wife and a little dotter.  Now I am a bloodsucker killing people for change. I am in hell.
 
 I probably deserve it. Never was a saint. They must be all waiting fro me in hell, the people I killed. It will be a hell of welcoming part when I get there.
 
 Finally the drunk on the other end of the bar leaves. A few more hours and I would actually start felling sorry for myself. Probably not. Can’t drink anymore. Only way to do it now is to get it directly from another blood. My stomach is growling.
 
                       

 

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           Cant we all just get along?...No? Ok...then i will just rip your head off.    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Grendel8101

  • Ancillus
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  • Posts: 212
Re: Family Business
« Reply #40 on: December 12, 2005, 02:11:00 PM »
                After a few minutes contemplation, I decided the situation was fucked.  
 
 On the one hand, I have Julian Massicus.  Not a bad guy to deal with, he’s always a pro, but right now it looks like he’s out of the picture with this shipment.  If I cut him out, not just on this deal, but permanently, it’ll look like a slight.  Massicus’ sire is Rocher, and the smart money says Rocher is gunning for Prince.  Even if he doesn’t turn out to be the Prince’s childe in the near future, Julian still has more resources than I do.  If he starts playing Jyhad against me it’ll get ugly.
 
 On the other hand, I have people back East I made promises to.  They want guns, one big fucking shipment of them, and they want them soon.  Julian was the only one I knew who could get me the shipment when I needed it, and now he doesn’t have it.  And if Eugene over here is correct, Julian won’t be in the business for awhile.  I need to make that shipment soon.
 
 And I don’t like this guy.  The Black Market is all middlemen.  If Julian knew my contacts, he wouldn’t need me, and vice versa.  Eugene and whoever he was working for might just try to cut me out when the time came.
 
 The other part of this whole clusterfuck is my own sense of greed.  I had my eyes on a vintage Hemicuda in Wisconsin.  The owner needs a few extra dollar signs before he’ll make the deal.  Eugene was offering less money for the package, that means more for me.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Mr. Bitterman, I realize this is a difficult decision, but there is a time factor to this equation.â€? Eugene said.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I‘m thinking.â€?  I said.  Eugene closed his mouth a little sharply and took a sip of whatever it was he was drinking.
 
 These guys intercepted the guns knowing who they were for.  They could probably sell them to someone else if they got the chance, but in smaller amounts.  They wanted the whole shipment gone and the money in their pockets right away.  I was key.
 
 If you don’t like the situation, change the rules, as my daddy should have told me.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Alright, Mr. Corwin, maybe we can make a deal.  First thing is, I need to call my employees and tell them what’s going on.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Is that really necessary-â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes.â€?  I said.  Corwin nodded reluctantly.
 
 I walked toward the bathrooms and found a spot with just enough noise to drown out anybody trying to listen.  I found the cell phone my ghouls made me buy.  I don’t like the damn things, I’ve heard something about radiation.  Not sure what radiation does to vamps, but I never want to find out.
 
 I called Mal, told him what was going on.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I can’t get a hold of Rowdy.â€? Mal said.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Dammit, keep trying.  Any word from Massicus?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No.â€?  I hung up.
 
 Then I dialed a new number.  I looked at Eugene and signaled that it would take just a few more minutes.  Someone answered.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“This is Bitterman.  Tell Mr. Massicus that I would like to meet with him at a club over in Venice.  Right now.â€?                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] munchies.Trooper

  • Antediluvian
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Re: Family Business
« Reply #41 on: December 14, 2005, 12:02:00 AM »
                As Mike sits in the back of the bar writing in his note book, he waits for the man that had contacted him about a job. After an hour of waiting mike looks up and notices a man walking in though the front door looking to be in his early to late forties. The man stands about five foot two inches with balding gray hair and a thick beard that has gray hairs running though it, the man is wearing a long winter style coat and is well dressed for being in a place like “Charlie’s Tavernâ€?. The man looks to be shaking from the cold or it could be he is shaking from what he must do and why he came here in the first place. Mike leans forward a bit to expose his face from the shadows in which he was sitting, the man sees Mike and walks toward him. The man sits down at the table and says
 
  “Are you the person I am to give this to?â€? sliding a brown envelope across the table.
 
 Mike picks up the envelope, opens it and looks at the papers inside the envelope. The man looks at the bottle of Jack Daniels on the table and the half full shot glass next to the bottle, he looks back over at Mike as he slips back into the shadows hiding his face again. The man says to Mike.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Do you mind if I have a drink of that whiskey?â€?
 
 Mike does not reply but simply waves his hands making a gesture to the man that he can have a drink. The man picks up the bottle of whiskey and starts to drink like a man that has not had anything to drink in weeks.  He sits the bottle of Jack Daniels back on the table leaving it almost empty. Mike then tears a page out of his note book and slides it across the table to the man. The man picks up the slip of paper and looks over it and says with a worried angry look on his face  
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Are you sure this… umm… Will not be traceable back to me and the other people? I have a wife and kids to think about. I don’t need those punks causing me and the other people in our neighborhood more problems.â€?
 
 Mike leaned forward again and said to the man. “Don’t worry. I will call you in a days time when the painting is finished on your home.â€?
 
 The man looked puzzled for a minute and then realized that Mike was speaking about getting rid of the gang members out of his neighborhood. The man said to Mike in a low tone of voice so they could not be over heard
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I hope you are worth your cost mister, we are giving you a lot of money to paint our houses.â€?
 
 Mike looked at the man and let out a little chuckle. The man stood up turned from the table and left “Charlie’s Tavernâ€?. Mike sat back in the bar booth and looked over the contents of the envelope again. After a few minutes Mike slipped the envelope into his coat pocket and stood up. Making his way to the door he looks over at the bar tender who was busy making drinks for all the customers that are inside the bar and notices two men and woman who appeared to be in her late teens talking and walking at the same time, Mike walks past them and pays no attention to them as he pass by. The snow had stop falling but the streets still showed signs that the snow plows had not made it to this part of Cawford yet. After a sort walk Mike finds himself in front of a supermarket, he looks around for a few minutes and walks inside the twenty four hour store. As he entered the place there was holiday music playing over the store radio, Mike walks over to the automotive section of the store first and picks up a five gallon gas can. He then walks a few aisles down to the hardware section and picks up five boxes of hundred watt light bulbs. Mike looks down at what he is carrying and thinks to him self “I think I am going to need a cart.â€? He walks back up to the front of the store and gets a shopping cart then heads to the house wares aisle and picks up a five quart pot, ten bottles of dish soap. Mike heads to the front of the store pays for the items he had just bought, walks outside to look for a taxi to take him back at his haven.
 
 After a long but sort taxi trip Mike arrives back his haven, he gets out of the taxi, pays the driver and walks over to his place. He sits the bags down on the ground; takes out the gas can walks toward the local shell gas station in Redbrock and fills the gas can up. Mike walks back to his haven and gets to work on his surprise for the dealers. He empties all the bottles of dish soap into the pot first then adds the gas to the dish soap, carefully stirring the mixtures together. After about ten minutes of stirring Mike takes the boxes of light bulbs out and removes the metal base and filament from the glass. Slowly he starts to fill the glass part of the light bulbs with his mixture, stopping when light bulb is quarter of the way full. Mike continues this until all five boxes are filled; Mike places the metal base and filament back onto the glass part of the light bulb. He slips his gloves on and wipes everything down to make sure that no fingerprints are left on any of the light bulbs, pot, and gas can then carefully packs all the stuff into his empty duffle bag.
 
 As Mike is walking towards the target house which was about two miles away from his haven he sees that one guy is standing in front of the house and it appears the rest are out doing what they normally do, gang turf wars. As the house gets closer in sight Mike changes his mind and goes around the back of the house. As he gets closer he makes the area go silent so he can sneak up behind the guard who was standing by the front door. Mike pulls out one of his knifes and grabs the guard covering his mouth and thrusts the knife into the guards Adams apple snapping the blade off inside so the guard could not dig the blade out. Mike drags the guard inside of the house and places the still bleeding body into the closest and tosses the broken knife handle on top of the body. Mike looks around the small house and quickly turns off all the lights, replaces the bulbs with the “specialâ€? ones he had just made, Mike places the pot next to the homemade meth lab stuff so the gang members would not think anything of it. Mike takes a quick look around to make sure he did not touch anything with out his gloves on, leaves the house and makes his way to a safe spot to watch the house.
 
 After about thirty minutes of waiting the dealers make their way home to count the profits from tonight’s selling and turf wars, Mike watches as the light semi goes on in the house and is followed by an explosion. The people in the house start to run and roll around on the ground but the napalm mixture did not want to come off that easy, the dealers screams could be heard though the nights dead air. Mike quietly takes out another prepaid cell phone that was registered to a Ruben Perez, presses the speed dial and says to the man he just had spoken with a few hours ago.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“The painting has been completed; deposit the money in the account I gave you, or you and your family will be next.â€? Mike ends the call, crushes the cell phone and heads back to his haven to get his coat so he can look for his Lasombra targets.
 
 As Mike enters his haven he tosses the crushed cell phone into the furnace to destroy it so the local police could not find any trace of the phone or who the last call was made to. As he puts his coat on he notices that he still has that envelope with the dealer’s house on it, he tosses it into the furnace, grabs the photos of the two Lasombra that he is trying to find and heads back out to find a taxi.
 
 After another sort trip Mike finds himself back in Venice wandering the streets looking for a place that would stand out for Lasombra to try and hide or to just blend in with the locals. As the cars slowly pass by on the street and the kine seem to be in a rush Mike makes his way down the street looking at different buildings. He comes to a little café that seems to have an upper class of people sitting inside; Mike walks inside and makes his way to the counter. When he arrives at the counter he pulls the pictures of the Beaumont childer and says to the cashier.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Have you seen any of these people?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No I can not say that I have sir.â€? The cashier replied.
 
 Mike turns around and makes his way out of the café, continues walking down the street and start to think to him self. “I wonder if they are in a different part of the town. I did find their late sir in Annsbridge. I wonder if they could be there looking for their sir…â€? with that though in his mind Mike signals for a taxi to head towards Annsbrigde.
 
 After a long taxi ride Mike gets out of the taxi, pays the driver and looks around for possible places that the childer might blend into the kine’s world. As Mike is walking down the street he notices a restaurant that proved a little promising, so Mike crosses the street, enters the building and walks up too the greeter that is behind the podium. The greeter looks how Mike is dressed and says.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I am sorry sir but we ca not have you dressed like that in this place of business.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I am just here to ask if you seen these two man in here before. “ Mike holds the pictures up to the greeter.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I am sorry but I can not remember if I have or have not we get over two hundred people in here a night. Now could you please leave?â€?
 
 Mike turns around and heads back out the door and continues his walk down the street looking for possible hiding spots for the Beaumont childer.
                       

 

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           I do not dare deny The basic beast inside
 It's right here, it's controlling my mind
 And why Do I deserve to die?
 I'm dominated by This animal that's locked up inside
 Evolution by Korn    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Sodom40280831

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #42 on: December 14, 2005, 07:42:00 AM »
                “Toreador huh?â€? Nail figured as much from the description Skull gave over the phone. Fortunately she didn’t seem to be able to see through the mask. He took his time to look at Marie from top to bottom while contemplating what he should do with her. On the way over he had given some thought to just killing her, not like anyone would notice. But after he got over the bad mood he was in he started realizing the opportunities this situation brought with it. However his thinking was rudely interrupted by Skull.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Uh y’know Nail, because of the excellent service I was wondering if I could get a little early fi…â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Leave.â€? Nail said in a tone that made it very clear he was giving an order instead of making a request. Skull immediately took the hint.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Right, leaving is also good, guess I’ll be leaving then.â€?  
 
 Skull took one last look at Marie before taking off. Nail now turned his attention to Marie.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Alone at last.â€? He said as he approached Marie.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Look at you, a little lost Toreador all puppy-dog-eyed and covered in filth. But where are my manners, I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Nnn…..eil, Neil, at your service. Now Skull tells me you’re new to the ole’ top of the food-chain and the one who embraced you forgot to give you a little info about how things work with us….. well you know.â€?
 
 Marie nodded.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well beautiful, I’d love to give you a little tutoring if you need it but I don’t feel like doing it out here in a dark freezing alley. So if you would kindly accompany me to the lovely little bar that is just down the way here we can begin our lesson.â€?
   
 Nail lead Marie out of the alley and into the bar with the sign “Charlie’s tavernâ€? above it. Nail was hoping Bitterman would be there so he could study him up close for a little while. When they entered the bar the two took a seat at a small round table in a darkened corner lit up only by the small candle standing in the middle of the table. There were hardly any customers save for a few shady figures at the bar and a few fratboys sitting in one of the booths who were already too drunk off their asses to move. Charlie's wasn't the best place for the upcoming conversation but it would have to do. Marie told Nail everything she knew about kindred so far and everything Skull had told her. Nail was quite surprised at how much Skull had figured out on his own. There was definitely more to that kid than met the eye.
 
 While he was listening to Marie Nail was thinking about what he should do with her. There was definitely no point in killing her, she was completely harmless. However A much more attractive notion suddenly came to mind. It was no secret that Nail and the other Nosferatu didn’t exactly think too highly of the local Toreador, in fact he couldn’t really think of any city on the planet where things were different. But to this point it had been too much of a bother to boot them out of Cawford. But an actual Toreador neonate working as an informant for the Nosferatu…..that could be just crazy enough to work. This could definitely be worth putting a little effort into, however she would need to learn about kindred society, get a haven and get cleaned up a bit. Nail realized he would have to supply her with these things but it was definitely worth it if it meant having his own little pet Toreador.
 
 When Marie was done talking Nail started his “kindred crash-courseâ€? with a long, tired moan.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Uuuuhhhhhh, Jesus H Christ where to begin. Well I suppose we should start our little lesson with the one big rule you should always live by. It goes like this: “You are now one of the damned, the fallen, a demon, a being which humans (or kine as we call them) would classify as “supernaturalâ€? or “non-existentâ€? Now, do you know why kine view us as non-existent? Because we don’t want them to know!â€? That’s why you didn’t know anything about all of this when you were still kine. Vampires keep their vampirism to themselves! And if you do otherwise it you’re gonna piss off a whole bunch of other vampires who will hunt you down like a dog and make sure you meet with a swift and horrible ending. That’s what you get if you break the law. And we refer to this law as “the masqueradeâ€?
 
 Nail remembered the time his own sire “Artemisâ€? gave him this speech. He was trying to remember how it all went. One of the reasons he didn’t plan on having childer anytime soon was having to educate them in the endless amount of kindred bullshit. Yet here he was with a Toreador fledgeling hanging on his every word.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Now the masquerade gets enforced by an organisation of vampires known as the Camarilla which mainly consists of the Ventrue, Brujah, Toreador, Tremere, Nosferatu and Malkavian clans. I’m not going to lie to you and claim we’re the goodguys or anything but it beats the alternatives by a long shot. “What alternatives?â€? You ask. Well you told me your sire and her companions were fleeing from someone, right? Well I bet they were running from the Sabbat, a sect composed of the Lasombra, Tzimisce and a whole bunch of the most vicious asshole vampires you’re ever going to meet. Now the Camarilla is all about law and order while the Sabbat wants nothing more than to make the world a living hell for everyone. They believe in letting go of all humanity and giving in to the beast completely. Be thankful you ended up here, we recently drove the Sabbat out of Cawford. Well there are a few stragglers here and there but nothing to really worry about. Other than the Camarilla and the Sabbat you have a few independent clans here and there, they obey the masquerade but don’t serve the Camarilla and then you have the Anarchs, pay no attention to them they have no idea what they’re talking about, thankfully there’s no Anarch movement in Cawford.â€?  
 
 Nail looked over at Marie to see her staring at him with a look that can only be described as “amazementâ€? to which he laughingly replied:
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Completely blows your mind away doesn’t it! Well that concludes our little lesson in politics, of course there’s a whole lot more to it but we’ll be here all night if I start explaining all of that. Right now we need to worry about getting you fixed up and looking like a proper undead predator of the night.â€?
 
 Nail reached into his left pocket and pulled out four one-hundred dollar bills and a small set of keys.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I never leave home without a little pocket change, you can keep the money, finances aren’t exactly a big problem when you’re kindred. Now I would be delighted to let you stay at my place for a while but certain circumstances prevent this so you can feel free to make use of my back-up haven until you find a place of your own.â€? Nail said as he handed her the keys.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s a humble little place over at “Wonder Wall apartmentsâ€? just a few blocks from here. I got it a while ago in case of emergencies but I hardly ever use it. There aren’t a lot of other tenants and the owner will let you have your privacy during the day. It has everything you need, a bed, television with DVD-player, a fridge with a few bloodpacks in it and most importantly a bathroom. Feel free to dig into my personal DVD collection, its mostly old black and white horror-movies but someone from your clan should be able to appreciate that. Once you get settled in you can contact me at this number. But I should tell you that tomorrow-night I will be leaving for a small business trip so you won’t be able to reach me.â€?
 
 Nail took a small piece of paper with a phone-number out of his other pocket and handed it to Marie who looked at him and said:
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Thank you very much, I am curious. What clan are you?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“My clan is……of no importance right now.â€?  
                       

 

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           I'm so serious it's comical!    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Bloodreaper33413943

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #43 on: December 17, 2005, 06:04:00 AM »
                Outside the Tavern, Marie could not believe her good fortune.  Only moments ago, she had been contemplating breaking into another car for money.  But now, she had keys to an apartment and four hundred dollars in her hands!  Most valuble of all though, was that she finally had someone to teach her how to live this way.  Mabey she could make something of this life afterall...
 
 The first thing she did was make her way the the nearest shopping center.  With four hundred, she was tempted to start buying everything in sight, but restrained herself.  Her first stop was to buy new clothing.  She ended up buying a few new t-shirts, pants, shoes, and a couple dresses (in case these Kindred of hers had social occasions).  On the way out, she noticed her pale face in a mirrior and grabbed some makeup too.  After that, she made a few "non-essential" purchases, such as new CDs, one or two vampire films and of course, new batteries.  She also bought a little gift for the next time she saw Skull, a baseball cap with a skull and crossbones on the front.  It was the least she could do for him after he had virtually saved her from life in the alleys.
 The cashiers at each store had looked skeptical that such a disheveled looking girl could afford these items, and she had smirked each time as she had presented the payment.
 
 She stepped outdoors again and hailed a cab.  "Wonder Wall apartments s'il vous plaît."  She saw the side glance that the cab driver gave her as he pulled out, but didn't care.  For once, things were looking up.
 
 When she reached the apartments, she found the room that was hers and let herself in.  The place wasn't the best, but it was home for now.  She noticed how the window was covered by a large tarp, duct taped over it.  Sun Protection.  She laid down her purchases and explored the apartment further.  When she was finished, she decided to get out of these dirty clothes and run a bath to wash off.  It was the first time in weeks that she felt clean.  While getting out, she noticed that her skin actually felt warm and alive after being in the hot water.  The feeling was replaced soon by the cold flesh that she had gotten used to.
 
 She took a moment to examine herself the the mirror.  This was the first time she had really studied herself since her death (for she had come to realized that she had in fact, died).  Her face was unchanged, yet... different in a way.  For one, it held no flush of life.  She imagined that this would have been the face staring out of her casket, if she had remained dead.  She pulled her upper lip back to get a better look at her other new features.  Her fangs were currently pulled back into her gums, looking completly normal.  She wondered how to get them to extend.  She tried mentally commanding them to, tried concentrating on extending them.  Nothing.  Then, she closed her eyes and mentally visualized red... the blood of the many cats she had drained... the blood that had been aroung her mouth when she first awoke to this life, her own blood being taken from her...
 She opened her eyes and saw a reflection of herself with two inch extented fangs looking back at her.  she gingerly prodded the tip of one of them, then yelped and pulled her punctured finger away.  She openep her mouth and looked at herself from verious angles.  She imitated the vampires from movies and hissed menacingly at the mirror.  This was all still so alien...
 
 She went back into the bedroom area and laid naked upon the bed.  One benefit of this condition was that she didn't notice cold that much at all anymore.  Her eye fell upon the phone next to the bed.  Before she could stop herself, she grabbed it and dialed a number.  While it rang, she suddenly hoped that Neil wouldn't wonder about a long-distance call.  Then, it picked up on the other end.
 
 "Bonjour?"  Said a girl's voice on the other end.  Marie said nothing.  Her mouth was open, but frozen between speaking and silence.  
 
 "Bonjour??"  Said the girl again, more insistant this time.  Marie wondered what she could say.  She wanted to say that she was okay and not to worry about her, but didn't.  When she spoke, it was barely audible.
 
 "Au revoir."  She said softly.
 
 "Bonjour!?!  Bonjour??  Mar..."  The other voice started to say fantically, but Marie hung up.  She cursed herself for her foolishness.  There was nothing that she could say to make everything okay.  The was no possible way to explain what had become of her life.  She could never go back to that world.  This was her world now.  Eternal night.
 
 Without even bothing to pull the covers over herself, she laid on her back and waited for the sun to put her to sleep.                        

 

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           When the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Killer39787726

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #44 on: December 19, 2005, 11:21:00 PM »
                Back at the hotel, the guy in the front desk gives me a weird look. Must be the cheap bourbon on the blood. That’s probably it.
 
 I climb the stairs to my room. Funny. Don’t remember leaving the lights on.
 Something hits me, making me fall to the ground. Someone takes a shot at my back. No, not a bullet. A needle. Then there is only darkness.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“…you killed him, Gino is going to be pissed.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No I didn’t! Look, he is movingâ€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Shut up you two! Wait outside, I am going to have a little talk with our guest.â€?
 
 Taste of blood in my mouth, my blood. I can’t move. I force my eyes open. It takes a while for them to adjust. What they gave me?
 
 I recognize the place. It’s an abandoned bakery near Thompson Field. Perfect place for an interrogation. You can scream all you want, no one will care. Not in this neighborhood. I used this place a few times before. Now the position is reversed. I usually am in his shoes, the guy in the gray suit and holding the baseball bat. Right now I am the guy strapped into the chair.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Who are you?â€? he asks.
 
 I give him a half smile, “I am Santa’s helper. He wanted me to tell you that you’ve been a real bad boy. You wont get any presents this yearâ€?
 
 He had a baseball bat, and I was tied to a chair. Pissing him off was the smart thing to do. He swings it and hit me in the head a couple times. The room starts to spin.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Stupid! Stupid move killing himâ€? he says
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You got to work with me Mack. I killed a lot of people. You will need to be more specificâ€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sammy, Gino’s little brotherâ€?
 
 Sammy, doesn’t ring a bell. Like always, the dead had all the answers I was missing.
 It wasn't that they weren't eager to talk, quite the contrary, when they started they never gave up.
 Gino however, it’s a completely different story. He is supposed to be some big time mobster. I believe he has some deals with the Giovanni. Not the kind of guy you want to be in the bad side of.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Gino wanted me to show you how he feels. And don’t call me Mack, I hate that name!â€?
 
 Suddenly he is Babe Ruth and my head is the ball. He keeps at it for a good half-hour before slowing down.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“My arm is getting sore. I will get me a drink and will be right back to continue our little chatâ€?
 
 He leaves me alone. I flex my muscles and rip the chair apart. I fall to the ground, gasping and coughing blood for several minutes. My brain feels like its two sizes too big for my head.
 
 The drugs started to wear off.  Breaking the lock on the door is easy enough.
 
 The two goons are in the other room playing cards. Full house, aces over eights. The dead man’s hand. Irony, the universe is full off this shit.
 
 I reach for the one closest to me and break the table with his head. The goon on the right draws his pistol, but I move behind him and break his neck. He falls dead and he doesn’t even know it.
 The other one is on the floor, trying to crawl away. I lift him up and drink deep. Until there isn’t a drop left in him. That’s better, my strength is returning. I reach for the table and collect my guns and cell.
 
 The man in the gray suit is in the bathroom. He doesn’t see me until I am pressing the beretta to the back of his head.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s a great mistakeâ€? he says
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You already did a big mistake yourself. You didn’t flushâ€?
 
 I hold him by his feet and drown the bastard.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You always got to remember to flushâ€?
 
 There is someone at the door. When I gaze upon her, it’s like being hit by a speeding truck, head on. She is all any man could want. Any man’s fantasy.
 
 I am not a pretty sight to behold. Holding a gun, covered in blood, bruised. Enough to get a grown man to weep. She don’t show any sign of fear. Tough lady.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You aren’t one of Gino’s men, are you?â€?
 
 I catch myself staring at her.  She was worth a stare. She was trouble.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You are the one who killed Sammy aren’t you? You are the answer to my prayers. I need your helpâ€? she tells me. She has the voice of an angel. Or at least that’s how I imagine one should sound.
 
 Her name is Marissa. She tells me all about her sad story. Gino is blackmailing her. There are only three ways to deal with a blackmailer. You can pay him and pay him and pay him until you’re penniless. Or you can call the police yourself and let your secret be known to the world. Or you can kill him.
 
 He was getting very possessive about her, jealous, violent. Treating her like she was her personal doll.
 
 She doesn’t let me in what her dark secret is, but I don’t care. We all have our secrets, things no one is willing to share. Things we are not proud off.
 
 She offers me enough money to make it impossible to resist, and more. Plus Gino isn’t the forgiving kind of guy, he won’t forget about me.
 
 Investigating Gino would have unearthed criminal plans, drug dealings, weapons contraband, spy helicopter reports, illegal wire tap recordings, internet porn, strategies for world domination, all of the above. Take your pick, I really didn't care anymore — I had seen too much of it already.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don’t do charity workâ€?
 
 Nothing compares to the blood. But I am not dead so long to be immune to her charms. She still can make the blood boil inside my veins, and she knows it. She is that type of woman that can make a man, maybe even kindred, do anything. She is the kind of woman that makes a man sell his soul to the devil, gladly.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What do you want?â€? she asks me.
 
 The things that I want, by Jake Kraven. A smoke. A whiskey. For the snow to stop. I want to sleep, to forget. To change the past. My wife and baby girl back. Unlimited ammo and a license to kill. But right then, more than anything, I wanted her.
 
 She finds me willing to fulfill her every desire. We spend the next nights together.  
 
 --
 
 After a while she reveals me Gino’s organization from inside out. The part she knows of it.
 He is not easy to find. The man has too much enemies, not to mention the cops. The honest ones.
 I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid.
 
 The only way is to find him is through Magnotta, his right arm guy.
 Marissa knows all about his business partners.
 
 Follow the leader, right? Well, don’t get too close or he will figure out he is being tailed. When he speeds up, you speed up. When he brakes, you brake. Get it? Good.
 
 I trail them all the way to North Valley until I find Magnotta’s ´office´.
 
 He gives me layouts, names, locations. Things that just someone at the top would know. It’s amazing the kind of information you can get when you know how to make questions. And I can be very persuasive when I want.
 
 It's not always this easy. This guy happens to be a moron.
 
 Before I finished with Magnotta, he led me to an old mansion in Annsbridge. Only way to get in is if you have a small army. Or if you are nut. I happen to fit in the last category. Fortunately I have enough strength and speed to back up my lack of good sense.
 
 Gino is alone in his room. I could finish him before he knew I was there. But along the way things got personal.
 
 I let him see me.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You! I sent my man after youâ€? the old man says “Paolo, William, remove this trash!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Don’t bother calling for your goons. They can’t hear you, they are all deadâ€?
 
 "I don't like your manners"
 
 "And I'm not crazy about yours... but I don't mind if you don't like my manners I don't like 'em myself."
 
 His eyes change with hate “Bastard. You killed Sammy. You are no cop. Who do you work for?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“The devilâ€?. Ironies again, cop, not a cop. Not anymore.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why Sammy? WHY?â€? he asks
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You know what that is. The stuff you never have enough of. Little green things with George Washington’s picture that men slave for, commit crimes for, die for. It’s the stuff that has caused more trouble in the world than anything else ever invented, simply because there’s too little of itâ€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s over father! You are finishedâ€?
 
 Father. Marissa. The pieces start falling into place like a jigsaw puzzle. She feed me the lies and I took it all in. I wanted to believe her line. I was the hero of the story, saving the girl from the crook.
 
 Personally, I’m convinced that alligators have the right idea. They eat their young.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What this bitch promised you?â€? he says. “Do you really believe she will pay you? You seem intelligent for a hit-manâ€?
 
 "Well, I'm not".
 
 I unceremoniously put a bullet through his brains.
 Firing a gun is a binary choice. Either you pull the trigger or you don't.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Its over!â€? she says with a smile, “I know account numbers, contacts, names. We can control the entire organization ourselvesâ€?
 
 Leave the brujah, betray them. Can’t say the thought hadn’t crossed my mind, about a thousand times.
 
 I walk up to her and hold her in my arms while she whispers hushed promises in my ears. All the right words. All that I want to hear.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Stay with me. I will make you richer than you ever dreamed off. No one will be able to touch us. Stay with me. I love you…â€?
 
 I can feel her skin getting hotter as she kisses me. She is that kind of woman that makes a man sell his soul to the devil, gladly. I already sold my soul years ago.
 
 She places her left arm around me and I follow her right arm until the knife she is holding behind her back.
 
 I twist her hand to make she drop it and pull her hair backwards, craving my fangs on her exposed neck. I feel her entire body shiver. I loved her. Loved and killed her.
 
 There was never a hero to this story. Just the killer, the crook and the devil in the dress.
 
 She was Gino’s daughter, wanted control over the old man’s criminal empire. No one in his right mind would help her. I was the one who killed Sammy, when no one would touch his family. I was the ´answer to her prayers´. She played me for a fool.
 
 Can’t say I was surprised. Deep down I always knew there was something off, just didn’t wanted to see it.
 
 An urban legend come true. You complete the jigsaw puzzle to discover it is a picture of yourself, finishing that same puzzle. A mad, green-eyed killer behind you. Me. I light a smoke.
 
 I’ll never think of our moments together without nausea.
                       

 

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           Cant we all just get along?...No? Ok...then i will just rip your head off.