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| Moonlit Revenge | Started by: Philosophical_Psycho on Jul 27, '08 20:25 |
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A man stepped out through the doorway and out into the moonlit night. His pace quickened with every step, his breathing heavier and heavier. He had his orders, odd as they were they still came from the highest authority, his boss. There is a man stationed at the first door to the mansion. "Is someone out there?" he asks but all he hears is the footsteps of an calculated killer closing in on his first target. The guardsman draws his pistol but can't see into the darkness of the courtyard. Steps draw ever nearer and suddenly the clicking of a loaded gun, A shadow moves into view but it is too late. The small compression of the silencer is all the man hears before his body drops lifeless on the steps of the Buffalo mansion. A tall middle aged man steps out under the doorway light. Leaning over the body he takes the mans weapon and cuts off his pinky, placing it in a plastic bag. He looks up at the mansion and whispers into the night.... "The boss better be right about this." Creeping up to the wooden door he finds it locked. Sighing he looks around... "Not an open window and of course no damn key! They can never make it easy for me." Around the outside of the house the killer creeps, making his way along the stone exterior of the mansion and under the brush and trees planted outside. He finally reaches the left wing and makes his way to an access door. Suddenly a man grabs him by the collar. The hitman spins around and catches the man in the throat with a chop. Stunned the assailant takes a step back and reaches for his pistol. The hitman draws first and shoots the man in the hand forcing him to drop his gun and fall in pain. "They were only orders;" cries the wounded assailant "we had no idea." Approaching the downed man he leans in and growls under the whistling of wind. "Tell that to you maker." and with one final movement he snaps the assailants neck killing him instantly. He crouches down to the dead body and removes his ring finger with the cigar cutter. The hitman looks about and continues up to the access door. "Unlocked. At least I get a little break." He enters quietly but quickly.. almost as if something is pushing him along. He creeps through the kitchen and into the foyer. The guard at the bottom of the stairs looks half asleep.... He slowly creeps along side the stairs until he is within five feet of the guardsman. Knowing that a pistol is too dangerous within closed quarters with or without a silencer, he pulls out his Garrote Wire from his pocket and wraps it around his hands. As he steadies himself to attack a small noise comes from the other side and three men appear, quickly he ducks back behind the stairs and towards the corner. The men engage in discussion that seems to last for ever. He can't make out what they are saying but they don't seem happy. The footsteps then drift off into another wing of the mansion and he creeps back towards the bottom of the stairs. The guard is still standing there but this time he is at full attention. "This is gonna get messy." He thinks to himself. Once steadied and poised against the stair railing he moves in.. quickly wrapping the wire around the mans neck, but like he thought it wasn't easier. The man had the neck muscles of a horse.... The guard turns and kicks over vase shattering it and causing the foyer to light up with commotion. The three men run back into the room... "It's him. Kill him." exclaims one of the guards as they start to fire. The hitman spins the two of them around and the bullets are met with the body of the guard. Using the guard as a shield now the hitman returns fire hitting the first guy with the first shot but affording the other two time to find cover. "This is not going remotely as planned...." He ducks back behind the stairs and fire twice at one of the men hitting him in the shoulder. Suddenly silence, "They are reloading" he whispers... He jumps up and runs at the two men, slicing one of the mens throats with a piece of the vase and jumping on top of the other one. The two men roll around across the floor. Again gun shots are heard, two men come running down the stairs at the two now locked in choking each other. As the two start to fire again the hitman feels a sharp pain in his leg, blood starts to soak his pants. They roll once more before the bullets once again hit their own man... "Twice in one day, I am getting good at this.." After pushing the dead man off him he throws one of the guns slamming it into the mouth of one the on comers. He raises his gun firing and killing the second man, but not before the man has a chance to shoot... The bullet ricochets off the floor and barely catches the hitman's ear. The hitman stands.... limping over to the first man he looks down. The man is reeling in pain and trying not to choke on the blood coming from his mouth. The hitman falls to one knee, and whispers into the man's ear... "From Philly with love." The man's eye's go wide just before they go blank as the hitman fires off another fatal shot. This time cutting off his middle finger of the second man and the pointer of the man now covered in blood he continues on up the stairs... "How is this house not going up in a riot right now.. surely someone must have heard all that..." The hitman sits down at the top of the stairs and takes his shirt off. Wrapping it around his leg he tries to stop the bleeding.. "I better make this quick, i am starting to get short of breath." Once more he pushes on, the fire in his eyes almost matching the fire in his heart. A man walks around the corner and without even time to gasp he is cut down with a small blade into the throat. The hitman walks on... slowly but steady. As he approaches the end of the hall, he can hear snoring of the loudest kind coming from the back room of the wing. "No wonder he didn't hear anything.. I swear an elephant could go off and he would be no one the wiser." Slowly he opened the door.... Silently he creeps into the room, he is weak but he has a mission. He props himself up against the dresser and cocks his gun.... He slams the dresser drawer shut startling the man in bed.... "Men! Guards!" He yells... "They are all dead. All of them." The awoken mans eyes go wide... "It can't be... Your supposed to be dead.." The man reaches under his pillow for his gun but doesn't find it. "Looking for this? Now now.. lets not be hasty....So i am supposed to be dead? So you knew I was supposed to be in that car with him.... I thought it odd when I received a message saying the you are responsible for death of Grimont Verdicca. You know, when I found my friend lying in that car, he was missing his fingers on his left hand" He tosses the bag at the man in bed. "Thought i would return the favor." The hitman takes in a breath, the lack of blood obviously starting to effect him. "He used to work for you, he was one of your best men... I thought to myself there was no way. Why would you do such a thing..." He walks over to the man... "You Don Teracci will pay for the actions against your own, and the actions against my friend... You should have sent a better hitman. A true hitman always gets the whole job done." "Please, let me go, i will give you anything, ANYTHING!" Teracci pleads... "No!" The next day the police arrive at the Teracci Mansion only to find the bodies of the dead and a Dark Black Fedora placed in the center of the bed where Teracci lay cold and lifeless. |
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| You sir, have a natural talent for building suspense. | |
| Reply by: Twisted_Lullaby at Jul 27, '08 20:52 | |
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| bows his head and shakes Phil's hand | |
| Reply by: Twisted_Lullaby at Jul 27, '08 20:52 | |
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| I must agree. That was truly an amazing tale. I can't wait to see more of your work. Excellent Read. | |
| Reply by: Zish at Jul 27, '08 20:53 | |
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She listens to the story, ignoring the world around her. Time stands still as she hears of Phil's adventures. From time to time she even finds herself biting her nail in anticipation. When the story is told she catches her breath, allowing her mind to wrap itself around what she had heard. Thank you. Thank you for telling your tale. I am truly, and most assuredly, impressed by your agility and skills. You have managed to put your life into words. I am proud to call you a member of The Java Cartel. I think you may have just given me an arepeagasm. She blushes and fans herself grinning a little before leaving to find something cold to drink. |
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| Reply by: Iris at Jul 27, '08 21:08 | |
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| Wow. There were times in this story that i wish it was a book, because i wanted it to be longer due to it being good | |
| Reply by: zdub16 at Jul 27, '08 22:42 | |
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| Simply Amazing, I look forward to more. | |
| Reply by: Shagggyd at Jul 28, '08 00:16 | |
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