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| New kid on the block | Started by: Marietto on Jan 08, '09 19:10 |
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Marietto walked about the city with a flair to his step. He was in a rather good mood. That day was his first day as a criminal. He was enjoying himself. And very much so at that. He was a rather small fellow. But athletic. His hair was a sandy blond, and his eyes a crystal blue. He looked quite like a mouse. And that was a great asset, indeed. People underestimated him, often to their expense. Because beneath his adorable exterior hid a significantly less-adorable interior. He was no crazed psychopath, by any means, but also not one to shy away from what was necessary. And definitely not one to back down in a fight. He may have been smaller than most, but he made up for it with speed, agility, and an unexpected strength. And a distinct lack of fear. The day had begun like any other. He awoke in the morning, had his breakfast and a shower, got dressed, and headed off to work. It was a small off-license. He wasn't the owner; just a shop assistant. It was rather dull work. He wouldn't have minded so much if it were busy -- he loved people -- but alas, it was not so. A few dozen customers a day, and none at all friendly. Rather depressing and lonely. And dull. He also worked alone, being that it was only a small shop. Needn't have more than one employee on any given shift. Yes, very depressing and lonely. And dull. But that day would mark a change to the dull repetitiveness that was his life. Because this was the day that some teenage punk had decided to threaten Marietto with a gun and demand all the money in the till. Now, as I have said, Marietto was no push-over. He does not submit when threatened. However, he did have sense. And normally, if someone were to threaten him with a gun, and ask for money for which, frankly, he cared nothing -- being that the money was not his but the owner-of-the store's -- he would have gladly submitted with no fuss, and with no fear. But he was having a bad day. Well, rather, a bad few months. His life was leading nowhere, and there fast, so slowly but surely an animal force had been growing up inside him. Begging to reach out and grab life by the balls. With sharp-ass fangs. All it needed was that one temptation. That one piece of meat to awaken the animal. And that piece of meat was stood before him pointing a gun to his head. Marietto looked the man up and down, and tilted his head to the side. "You're not going to shoot me. Look at you. What are you, 17? You don't have the balls to do something like kill a man. And for what? $300 or so? 'Cause there ain't much cash in this here till. Is it worth life imprisonment, eh? For a measly few hundred bucks?" The thug hesitated for a moment. Then went on the offensive. "You damned right I is. Gimme that cash or I is gonna shoot you down!" He waved the gun frantically. As such people tend to in a situation such as this. Marietto smiled. "No. I'm pretty sure you're not that stupid." He crossed his arms across his chest in defiance. The thug looked crazed. "I'm warnin' you! I will shoot your mother fuckin' ass if you don't give me the money." He fired a shot into the wall beside Marietto, no doubt to prove his willingness. Marietto turned to where the bullet had hit. It was pretty close. The animal begun to growl. He turned back to the attacker with a new look in his eyes. An evil gleam. "Fine. You want the cash? Here, take it." He grabbed the till, pulled it out from the shelf in which it rested, and began to pass it over the counter. The thug lowered his gun to take it. And in that moment, Marietto launched forward with all his strength, the till cracking the youngster in the face and knocking him to the ground. With his athletic speed and agility, Marietto vaulted over the counter and landed beside the fallen youth. "You picked the wrong store, pal. And now you will pay. Because I am in a bad mood. And you have made it so much worse." He swung his foot back, and then forward. Into the other man's face. His nose cracked and blood began to flow. "Please, stop! No! Stop! Please," he pleaded through blood-choked mouth. Marietto took another swing. "Oh, so you want me to show you mercy, eh? Would you have shown me any, hm? I think not. Hypocritical son-of-a-bitch." He took another swing, this time at the ribs. And then he saw the gun. And that animal growled once more. He picked it up and felt the feel of metal in his hands. And the sense of power it gave him. He played with it for a while, that evil gleam still in his eyes. It seemed the months of repression had finally been let loose. He could only go with the flow. He aimed the gun at the thug's head, and waited. Until the realization had sunk in. Until the fear began. Until that other man saw that evil gleam in Marietto's eyes. "I'll see you on the other side, son." And with that, he pulled the trigger. Leaving the young man dead. He looked around. Bullet hole in the wall, the till smashed across the floor, a dead body beside it, and a gun in his hand. He smiled. He hadn't had this much fun in a very long time. Pocketing the gun, he knelt down and emptied the till. He was cashed-up. Ready for action. He was going to make something of himself. He'd grabbed life by the balls at last, and he was going to keep hold tight and drag it along with him. No more stagnation. No more mediocrity. He was going to go somewhere, be somebody, and achieve all that he'd hoped to achieve. And he was going to do it with no hesitation and with no regret. |
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