A New Light...
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
A New Light...
Warning: This thread may contain content which some may be uncomfortable with. Definitely violence and abuse, some language. Read at your own choice.
... Another Memory
He laid there for a moment, watching her as she slept. She seemed so at peace, despite the turmoil that he saw boiling within her now and then. She was good at keeping it hidden and inside, but the more time he spent with her, the more he could see the weight of it on her.
He was going to find a way to relieve her of that burden... somehow. But that would take some time, and perhaps another conversation with Nem. That was something he wasn't looking forward to. But that was a worry for another night.
He ran his fingers once more through her hair, then he turned, and quietly slipped from the bed. He wrapped one of the discarded sheets around him then quietly slipped from the room. His quiet steps carried him through her house until they delivered him to her favored library.
He wasn't sure what prompted it, but he had been thinking about his own history lately. Perhaps it was Nem. Her words still rang in his head. "I suppose it's better when people use you so long as you're properly compensated for what you offer, isn't that right, Mister Feren?"
He hadn't always been compensated for his services, but he had been used for many years. Many many years.
He knew she had never asked about his past. She probably never would. But still, he felt she deserved to know. Especially if they were going to face Nem again.. together hopefully.
He sat down at one of the tables and pulled some paper and a pen to him. He sat there for a long time as he stared at those blank pages. Then he leaned down and started to write.
... Another Memory
He laid there for a moment, watching her as she slept. She seemed so at peace, despite the turmoil that he saw boiling within her now and then. She was good at keeping it hidden and inside, but the more time he spent with her, the more he could see the weight of it on her.
He was going to find a way to relieve her of that burden... somehow. But that would take some time, and perhaps another conversation with Nem. That was something he wasn't looking forward to. But that was a worry for another night.
He ran his fingers once more through her hair, then he turned, and quietly slipped from the bed. He wrapped one of the discarded sheets around him then quietly slipped from the room. His quiet steps carried him through her house until they delivered him to her favored library.
He wasn't sure what prompted it, but he had been thinking about his own history lately. Perhaps it was Nem. Her words still rang in his head. "I suppose it's better when people use you so long as you're properly compensated for what you offer, isn't that right, Mister Feren?"
He hadn't always been compensated for his services, but he had been used for many years. Many many years.
He knew she had never asked about his past. She probably never would. But still, he felt she deserved to know. Especially if they were going to face Nem again.. together hopefully.
He sat down at one of the tables and pulled some paper and a pen to him. He sat there for a long time as he stared at those blank pages. Then he leaned down and started to write.
Last edited by Caleb Feren on Sun Mar 28, 2021 11:43 am, edited 3 times in total.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
History. The Past.
It's funny how one can remember things. They come in fits and spurts, and never as clear as when it happened. What you remember has faded with the passing of time, and what you remember may not be the full reflection of what actually happened.
But here is my past. As I remember it.
It may not be all of it, or perhaps even the truth of it, but it is what I remember, as I remember it.
Best prepare yourself before you continue reading this. I can't promise that it will be easy to understand, either in how it comes out, or how it's taken.
It's funny how one can remember things. They come in fits and spurts, and never as clear as when it happened. What you remember has faded with the passing of time, and what you remember may not be the full reflection of what actually happened.
But here is my past. As I remember it.
It may not be all of it, or perhaps even the truth of it, but it is what I remember, as I remember it.
Best prepare yourself before you continue reading this. I can't promise that it will be easy to understand, either in how it comes out, or how it's taken.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
My teenage years were spent away from home as much as I could.
It wasn't that I wanted to be away from home. It was just that home wasn't a place for me. I had never felt that I belonged there. Even with my parents and my sister, I felt that I stood outside of them, always looking in. A type of impostor-syndrome, I guess you could say.
Though, looking back now, I guess that was more true. But that's a different part of the story.
I spent my time either in school, or in School. Yes, there is a difference in the two. The first was where you went to get educated. And an education I got. It wasn't that school was hard for me. In fact, it came rather easily. There were days that I would sleep in class, only to wake up to take a test and ace it. To say that I wasn't liked because of it was an understatement. But kids tend to be mean, and want to prove they are the biggest and baddest.
Back then, it bothered me more than I let on. I had wanted to fit in. I wanted to be a part of something. Well, I was. I was a part of all of their cruel ministrations. I was ostracized for the ease at which things came to me. There were days that I would get in to three or four fights. At first I had my ass handed to me. But as each fight came on, and each loss garnered, each beating taken... I learned something from them. How to get back up. How to step forward. ...how to give back what was given.
That was all a part of school. I learned. I grew.
It wasn't that I wanted to be away from home. It was just that home wasn't a place for me. I had never felt that I belonged there. Even with my parents and my sister, I felt that I stood outside of them, always looking in. A type of impostor-syndrome, I guess you could say.
Though, looking back now, I guess that was more true. But that's a different part of the story.
I spent my time either in school, or in School. Yes, there is a difference in the two. The first was where you went to get educated. And an education I got. It wasn't that school was hard for me. In fact, it came rather easily. There were days that I would sleep in class, only to wake up to take a test and ace it. To say that I wasn't liked because of it was an understatement. But kids tend to be mean, and want to prove they are the biggest and baddest.
Back then, it bothered me more than I let on. I had wanted to fit in. I wanted to be a part of something. Well, I was. I was a part of all of their cruel ministrations. I was ostracized for the ease at which things came to me. There were days that I would get in to three or four fights. At first I had my ass handed to me. But as each fight came on, and each loss garnered, each beating taken... I learned something from them. How to get back up. How to step forward. ...how to give back what was given.
That was all a part of school. I learned. I grew.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
I sat there, hunched over the lab table as I counted the drops from the pipette as they dropped into the flask. This was day four, I think, that I had been at this. I’m not sure of that, though, as the hours started to blend together. My Master has ground it into me that tiredness was just a state of mind. If you don’t mind, it don’t matter. Still, over ninety-six hours of being awake, the mind starts to play tricks on you.
That was the point of this exercise. To keep the mind focused. Especially with something that could kill with one drop if the contents wasn’t treated with the utmost care. Mixing these these chemicals and extracts could kill on their own, and yet here I was, being forced to mixed them to the Master’s specific instructions. And the Master was going to make me repeat the instructions, step by step. Failed would result in consequences. Consequences that had left me begging for death in the past.
That was the point of this exercise. To keep the mind focused. Especially with something that could kill with one drop if the contents wasn’t treated with the utmost care. Mixing these these chemicals and extracts could kill on their own, and yet here I was, being forced to mixed them to the Master’s specific instructions. And the Master was going to make me repeat the instructions, step by step. Failed would result in consequences. Consequences that had left me begging for death in the past.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
School. With a capital S. Learning books and math and the like was nothing compared to School. Oh, it started like it, but quickly grew to be something so much more.
My first instructor was a man named McDonald. He was six foot nine, and every bit of three hundred pounds. And there wasn't any softness to the man, in or out. He was a bastard, but he knew his business. He had picked me up after one of the fights that had happened at school. He said he saw potential and wanted to be my instructor.
There were a lot of long nights at his dojo that came after that. But he was right. I was soon picking up things that he had expected to take months. However, his instruction was intense and he wouldn't give me preference over anyone else in his class. He insisted that no one should be raised above the another, not in his dojo. No matter the circumstances, we were a class.. a family. And when one falls, we are there to pick them up, to stand there next to them until they can get on their feet again. I could understand that, but with the exception of my sister, I had never really felt close to anyone. Never called anyone family.
He continued to stand by his principles though, and drilled the basics into me until the others we're ready, then he moved on, teaching us the next lesson.
My first instructor was a man named McDonald. He was six foot nine, and every bit of three hundred pounds. And there wasn't any softness to the man, in or out. He was a bastard, but he knew his business. He had picked me up after one of the fights that had happened at school. He said he saw potential and wanted to be my instructor.
There were a lot of long nights at his dojo that came after that. But he was right. I was soon picking up things that he had expected to take months. However, his instruction was intense and he wouldn't give me preference over anyone else in his class. He insisted that no one should be raised above the another, not in his dojo. No matter the circumstances, we were a class.. a family. And when one falls, we are there to pick them up, to stand there next to them until they can get on their feet again. I could understand that, but with the exception of my sister, I had never really felt close to anyone. Never called anyone family.
He continued to stand by his principles though, and drilled the basics into me until the others we're ready, then he moved on, teaching us the next lesson.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
I sat there, in the blood and the mud, as I watched the life leave my sister.
She was the only person I cared about. The only person who seemed to understand me. And here she was, laying in my lap, bleeding out, and no amount of pressure I put onto the gaping hole in her neck could keep it in. Slowly, I watched the life leave her eyes until there was nothing left.
Still, I continued to sit there, my eyes still upon her, still pressing my weight into her, into that wound, while I continued to bleed out.
I had lost focus long ago on the wounds I had gained. Wounds that were obtained fighting, protecting... and losing. My parents had been targeted first. The group that had broken in were after something my father was working on. I didn't know what then. I didn't pay attention at that time to those kinds of things. However, I later found out.
I had been out, as usual. Though that night, I had stopped at a different diner to get dinner. They were slower in their service, but the food was good, so I didn't mind. But that did mean I was going to be home later than usual.
By the time I got home, they were already there.
She was the only person I cared about. The only person who seemed to understand me. And here she was, laying in my lap, bleeding out, and no amount of pressure I put onto the gaping hole in her neck could keep it in. Slowly, I watched the life leave her eyes until there was nothing left.
Still, I continued to sit there, my eyes still upon her, still pressing my weight into her, into that wound, while I continued to bleed out.
I had lost focus long ago on the wounds I had gained. Wounds that were obtained fighting, protecting... and losing. My parents had been targeted first. The group that had broken in were after something my father was working on. I didn't know what then. I didn't pay attention at that time to those kinds of things. However, I later found out.
I had been out, as usual. Though that night, I had stopped at a different diner to get dinner. They were slower in their service, but the food was good, so I didn't mind. But that did mean I was going to be home later than usual.
By the time I got home, they were already there.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
There. The final drop was counted out and the Master's was pleased with the results.
I had come up with a new poison that he hadn't though of, but it had taken countless hours and innumerable rats to get the exact proportions correct. The Master wasn't keen on spending his money on ingredients or the rats, so I had to work a few extra jobs just to get the money for those things, all while still dedicating the time that the Master required.
I had skipped out on a lesson once. Once was all it took to know I never would do that again. Even that memory is something I don't enjoy thinking about. It had taken me a month to fully recover from the damage that the Master had done. And it wasn't just a beating that I took. He showed me what kind of damage that some of the stuff I worked with could do... on a very personal level.
As the Master took up the vial, he dipped a finger into the contents and first gave it a sniff, then touched tongue to the already drying liquid that was there. "Good." His voice was rough, like someone had poured acid down his throat while he was screaming, then decided to heal the damage by choking him with barbed wire. "No smell, and the taste has a subtle sweetness to it." He then rubbed his fingers together and examined them. "And there is no aftertaste nor residue left behind." He looked up then and leveled his intense scrutiny on me. "I want a case. End of the week."
I had been so proud.. until those words. That single vial took five days to make, and now he wanted twelve in seven.
I turned and immediately got to work. That meant that on top of the five days I had already been up, I would be adding another seven.
When this case was done, I was going to be exhausted.
I had come up with a new poison that he hadn't though of, but it had taken countless hours and innumerable rats to get the exact proportions correct. The Master wasn't keen on spending his money on ingredients or the rats, so I had to work a few extra jobs just to get the money for those things, all while still dedicating the time that the Master required.
I had skipped out on a lesson once. Once was all it took to know I never would do that again. Even that memory is something I don't enjoy thinking about. It had taken me a month to fully recover from the damage that the Master had done. And it wasn't just a beating that I took. He showed me what kind of damage that some of the stuff I worked with could do... on a very personal level.
As the Master took up the vial, he dipped a finger into the contents and first gave it a sniff, then touched tongue to the already drying liquid that was there. "Good." His voice was rough, like someone had poured acid down his throat while he was screaming, then decided to heal the damage by choking him with barbed wire. "No smell, and the taste has a subtle sweetness to it." He then rubbed his fingers together and examined them. "And there is no aftertaste nor residue left behind." He looked up then and leveled his intense scrutiny on me. "I want a case. End of the week."
I had been so proud.. until those words. That single vial took five days to make, and now he wanted twelve in seven.
I turned and immediately got to work. That meant that on top of the five days I had already been up, I would be adding another seven.
When this case was done, I was going to be exhausted.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
I turned the corner and saw two of them out front, and the door to the house was open.
Immediately, I knew something was wrong and slammed the gas to the floor. The engine came to life and the exhaust roared.
The first guy didn't have time to turn and bring the gun around before the truck slammed into him, sending him flying like a broken rag doll. The second, however, was able to dive away, saving his life from the truck, but not his legs as they got ran over.
The truck quickly came to a halt, skidded haphazardly across the front lawn after the second thump. I pulled the knife that I kept with me from between the seats and opened the door. The knife was a beautiful thing that my dad had given to me. The blade was twelve inches long, and the handle was hammered steal sandwiching deer horn, and it settled into my hand like it was made for it. The blade had long ago lost any semblance of shine, even going so far as to have a dull rust looking color. That was probably from all the deer dad had used it on. I never asked.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, I felt the chill of calmness wash over me. All that time with McDonald seemed to finally settle into place. He had been teaching me in order to defend myself and those that I loved. And here I was about to take that mantle on.
My steps, as I think about it now, even then didn't make a sound as I moved around the truck to that one who had the shattered legs. He was screaming, but I didn't hear anything he was saying. It was quiet in my head. As I approached him, and leaned over and slid the knife along his throat, slicing deep and long. My steps didn't stop though, and I never looked back to see the result of my work.
There were more inside and I was going to be death among them.
Immediately, I knew something was wrong and slammed the gas to the floor. The engine came to life and the exhaust roared.
The first guy didn't have time to turn and bring the gun around before the truck slammed into him, sending him flying like a broken rag doll. The second, however, was able to dive away, saving his life from the truck, but not his legs as they got ran over.
The truck quickly came to a halt, skidded haphazardly across the front lawn after the second thump. I pulled the knife that I kept with me from between the seats and opened the door. The knife was a beautiful thing that my dad had given to me. The blade was twelve inches long, and the handle was hammered steal sandwiching deer horn, and it settled into my hand like it was made for it. The blade had long ago lost any semblance of shine, even going so far as to have a dull rust looking color. That was probably from all the deer dad had used it on. I never asked.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, I felt the chill of calmness wash over me. All that time with McDonald seemed to finally settle into place. He had been teaching me in order to defend myself and those that I loved. And here I was about to take that mantle on.
My steps, as I think about it now, even then didn't make a sound as I moved around the truck to that one who had the shattered legs. He was screaming, but I didn't hear anything he was saying. It was quiet in my head. As I approached him, and leaned over and slid the knife along his throat, slicing deep and long. My steps didn't stop though, and I never looked back to see the result of my work.
There were more inside and I was going to be death among them.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
A hand softly touched my shoulder and I came alive.
The knife had been laid down there next to me as I held my sister, trying to stop that blood. Blood that had long since stopped flowing. But still I sat there, holding her, until that hand touched my shoulder. Then in a half-heart beat, I had laid her down and took the knife to hand, and twisted, slicing that blade out towards where the body should be.
I felt it slice into the body before I turned and focused. As it entered into the body, I twisted the blade and ripped it out, dropping down ready for a counter. But it never came, and the man continued to stand there, a smile on his lips that seemed to have always been there.
The knife had been laid down there next to me as I held my sister, trying to stop that blood. Blood that had long since stopped flowing. But still I sat there, holding her, until that hand touched my shoulder. Then in a half-heart beat, I had laid her down and took the knife to hand, and twisted, slicing that blade out towards where the body should be.
I felt it slice into the body before I turned and focused. As it entered into the body, I twisted the blade and ripped it out, dropping down ready for a counter. But it never came, and the man continued to stand there, a smile on his lips that seemed to have always been there.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
Death would be a blessing at the moment.
But I had better be careful with that thought. In this place, thoughts have a way of becoming reality. This was the first night that I had ventured to the Long Night on my own. In the past, the Master had came with me, if only to make sure that his investments were not destroyed... I being the least of them.
But tonight he had sent me alone. I was to bring back some special tech that he had ordered. Of course, he didn't bother to tell me that the tech was alien in everything, including nature, and that just being near it seemed to drain all the life from me. Sure, send me on your fucking runs for things that found pleasure in mind-fucking you.
On top of that, some assholes decided that I looked like an easy target. Of course, in the Long Night, there always is an easy target. But there is also someone bigger and badder than you are. That fight had taken longer than it should have, thanks to this piece-of-shit alien crap. And during that entire blood-letting, I felt like something was watching me. Could have been the house across the street. I heard they ate visitors.
I pushed myself off the wall and finally got moving again. Fortunately, the crowd gave a wide berth and I was able to make it back to the train station. It was a rather relaxing trip, even with the Outsiders slamming into the outside of the tube. I even closed my eyes. I must have feel asleep, because the next thing I knew the train was screeching to a halt.
Must be the alien crap. Couldn't have been the weeks of no sleep and the constant training and fighting. As I stepped off the train, the Master was standing there with a lead-lined box, opened.
"Fucking asshole."
The Master just smiled that condescending smile as I dropped his tech into that box.
But I had better be careful with that thought. In this place, thoughts have a way of becoming reality. This was the first night that I had ventured to the Long Night on my own. In the past, the Master had came with me, if only to make sure that his investments were not destroyed... I being the least of them.
But tonight he had sent me alone. I was to bring back some special tech that he had ordered. Of course, he didn't bother to tell me that the tech was alien in everything, including nature, and that just being near it seemed to drain all the life from me. Sure, send me on your fucking runs for things that found pleasure in mind-fucking you.
On top of that, some assholes decided that I looked like an easy target. Of course, in the Long Night, there always is an easy target. But there is also someone bigger and badder than you are. That fight had taken longer than it should have, thanks to this piece-of-shit alien crap. And during that entire blood-letting, I felt like something was watching me. Could have been the house across the street. I heard they ate visitors.
I pushed myself off the wall and finally got moving again. Fortunately, the crowd gave a wide berth and I was able to make it back to the train station. It was a rather relaxing trip, even with the Outsiders slamming into the outside of the tube. I even closed my eyes. I must have feel asleep, because the next thing I knew the train was screeching to a halt.
Must be the alien crap. Couldn't have been the weeks of no sleep and the constant training and fighting. As I stepped off the train, the Master was standing there with a lead-lined box, opened.
"Fucking asshole."
The Master just smiled that condescending smile as I dropped his tech into that box.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
I watched in first confusion, then shock, as the wound that I had just ripped into him slowly close on it's on. Even the clothes stitched themselves together. What the actual fuck?!
"Feel better?" His voice was soft, quiet. It held a tone of patience and of remorse. But it grated on my nerves. Of course I don't feel fucking better, you fucking asshole!
I charged him, eyes wide open to take in all that was coming, and might come my way. He could be with someone else, but I had learned to take care of one before worrying about the other. If nothing else, use the body as a shield. And likely, if there was another, they would be coming from behind me.
At the last moment, I shifted left and sliced the blade deep through the man's side. Anyone else and that would have gutted someone, leaving them damn near cut in half. But when I turned, ready for the next attack, I watched again in horror as the wound sealed. And there was no one else that was coming at me. Even that man wasn't moving, other than to turn just a little to watch me.
"What the fuck?" My voice was raw, broken, barely recognizable to me.
"If you need, let it out. But you'll die soon."
"I'll take you with me."
The man shook his head, that smile turning sadder. "No, you won't. You'll bleed out before." He finally lifted his hand, only to wave it towards me. Either because of something he did when he lifted his hand, or his bringing my attention to it, I finally felt the full weight of the wounds that I had carried with me through the night. My body seemed to start shutting down, and no matter how hard I fought, my body wasn't listening.
"What did.. you... do.."
He turned and finally moved towards me then. I dropped to my knees and as he moved with me, coming down to my level. "I can help."
"Wha.. " I could feel the darkness slowly closing in.
"I could save you. But I need you to answer. I cannot make the decision for you. Do you want my help?"
I focused hard on those purple eyes. My mind went through all the options.
What did this man want?
Could I survive if I didn't take his offer?
If I die, I won't be able to find the fuckers who did this.
Wait, if he could save me, he could do more. What could he..
"Yes..." My voice was growing softer. The words were coming harder. "Save.." Even I was having trouble hearing myself. "mmmy.." The thought was singular, but if the word came, I couldn't tell anymore. "... sssiiiiissssssss."
"Feel better?" His voice was soft, quiet. It held a tone of patience and of remorse. But it grated on my nerves. Of course I don't feel fucking better, you fucking asshole!
I charged him, eyes wide open to take in all that was coming, and might come my way. He could be with someone else, but I had learned to take care of one before worrying about the other. If nothing else, use the body as a shield. And likely, if there was another, they would be coming from behind me.
At the last moment, I shifted left and sliced the blade deep through the man's side. Anyone else and that would have gutted someone, leaving them damn near cut in half. But when I turned, ready for the next attack, I watched again in horror as the wound sealed. And there was no one else that was coming at me. Even that man wasn't moving, other than to turn just a little to watch me.
"What the fuck?" My voice was raw, broken, barely recognizable to me.
"If you need, let it out. But you'll die soon."
"I'll take you with me."
The man shook his head, that smile turning sadder. "No, you won't. You'll bleed out before." He finally lifted his hand, only to wave it towards me. Either because of something he did when he lifted his hand, or his bringing my attention to it, I finally felt the full weight of the wounds that I had carried with me through the night. My body seemed to start shutting down, and no matter how hard I fought, my body wasn't listening.
"What did.. you... do.."
He turned and finally moved towards me then. I dropped to my knees and as he moved with me, coming down to my level. "I can help."
"Wha.. " I could feel the darkness slowly closing in.
"I could save you. But I need you to answer. I cannot make the decision for you. Do you want my help?"
I focused hard on those purple eyes. My mind went through all the options.
What did this man want?
Could I survive if I didn't take his offer?
If I die, I won't be able to find the fuckers who did this.
Wait, if he could save me, he could do more. What could he..
"Yes..." My voice was growing softer. The words were coming harder. "Save.." Even I was having trouble hearing myself. "mmmy.." The thought was singular, but if the word came, I couldn't tell anymore. "... sssiiiiissssssss."
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory
It had not been that long after the ship had caught fire that he had turned and stalked through the crowd. No one stopped him, or offered anything for him. No, instead, they cleared a path for the man who had been married to the pirate, for the man who had gone to war with a world, for the assassin who couldn't stop her death.
He walked with a purpose, though his stride didn't lead him anywhere, at least not anywhere intended. He needed more time before he faced Chris and Kat. They both were smart kids, and knew what was going on with Anne, but still.. the death of their mother would still be a hard hit.
He moved through the streets of RhyDin, moving from place to place, street to street. Looking, perhaps, for an answer still. Or a way to fix things. But he didn't fix things, did he? He broke things. Made things worse in some cases. That was what he was made to do. Sure, it might fix something for someone else, but for him... no. Perhaps this was his penance for his past. Whatever was playing chess with his life decided he didn't need that happiness in it, and so snuffed it out.
Another turn and he stopped dead in his tracks. Kendrick stood there before him, and all Caleb could feel was.. emptiness. Even his hatred of the man didn't touch him. "You're easy to find when you're not paying attention. That could be dangerous for you."
"Piss off, Kendrick." Never mind the man was right. "What do you want?"
"I have prepared a ship for you and the kids."
Caleb stood there looking at the man like had grown a second head.
Kendrick sighed. It was like talking to a child. "You need to get out of RhyDin with the kids. There is still someone who wants them, even though they do not belong to him. And it would do well for both you and them to get away from this place."
The wheels started to finally move for Caleb, and Kendrick nodded, seeing that he was once more thinking like the man who had torn apart Rigel.
"The ship is docked in the last port. Don't kill the man." It the shit grin Kendrick gave Caleb that put him on edge. Of course, Kendrick would poke the bear.
Caleb gave the man a flat stare, then he stepped past and started for home, or what use to be. He now had a purpose, and perhaps the beginning of a plan.
Kendrick had left everything of his in Rigel to Chris and Kat, including his titles. Caleb would make sure that they both knew the troubles, and the power, of royalty.
He walked with a purpose, though his stride didn't lead him anywhere, at least not anywhere intended. He needed more time before he faced Chris and Kat. They both were smart kids, and knew what was going on with Anne, but still.. the death of their mother would still be a hard hit.
He moved through the streets of RhyDin, moving from place to place, street to street. Looking, perhaps, for an answer still. Or a way to fix things. But he didn't fix things, did he? He broke things. Made things worse in some cases. That was what he was made to do. Sure, it might fix something for someone else, but for him... no. Perhaps this was his penance for his past. Whatever was playing chess with his life decided he didn't need that happiness in it, and so snuffed it out.
Another turn and he stopped dead in his tracks. Kendrick stood there before him, and all Caleb could feel was.. emptiness. Even his hatred of the man didn't touch him. "You're easy to find when you're not paying attention. That could be dangerous for you."
"Piss off, Kendrick." Never mind the man was right. "What do you want?"
"I have prepared a ship for you and the kids."
Caleb stood there looking at the man like had grown a second head.
Kendrick sighed. It was like talking to a child. "You need to get out of RhyDin with the kids. There is still someone who wants them, even though they do not belong to him. And it would do well for both you and them to get away from this place."
The wheels started to finally move for Caleb, and Kendrick nodded, seeing that he was once more thinking like the man who had torn apart Rigel.
"The ship is docked in the last port. Don't kill the man." It the shit grin Kendrick gave Caleb that put him on edge. Of course, Kendrick would poke the bear.
Caleb gave the man a flat stare, then he stepped past and started for home, or what use to be. He now had a purpose, and perhaps the beginning of a plan.
Kendrick had left everything of his in Rigel to Chris and Kat, including his titles. Caleb would make sure that they both knew the troubles, and the power, of royalty.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
- Caleb Feren
- Adventurer
- Assassin For Hire
- Posts: 126
- Joined: Thu Apr 15, 2004 5:26 pm
- Location: Where the job takes him
...Another Memory (WARNING)
((Reader, this post is going to have a LOT of triggers and may cause you some discomfort or something worse. Please understand that this is not written with the intention of triggering anything with you, and that this story is something that, while it has not happened to me, I understand parts of it may have happened to you.
The names are made up. The story is made up.
This story contains stalking, violence, drugs, rape, and murder... so please, read ONLY if you are ready to do so.
If you ever need someone to talk to about something going on, there are people who will listen. You are not alone.))
Caleb's First Assassination
Training that day had been especially hard. It had started with a wakeup at just past midnight (nevermind he had went to bed at eleven thirty) to go on an errand for the Master. It was stupid, but Caleb had learned not to question, or even make an idle comment where he thought the Master couldn't hear. That had cost Caleb a week that he still couldn't remember.
Then after that errand (which was going across town to pick up a shirt... see? Stupid), he was forced to fight others who had come in the night before. The Master always had someone coming to him for something, and Caleb was always forced to fight them. That had lasted until the sun rose.
Then there was morning meditation and cooking breakfast for the house. Then he was running thirty miles (and it had better be done under three hours!). Then a quick shower and making lunch for the house.
When that was done, Caleb was allowed time to (you guessed it) train some more, this time going over, and using weapons of various natures. That had cost him a new set of stitches. After he got done sewing himself up, he headed towards the lab.
But when he got there, his station had been cleared and only a note was left.
Caleb approached the station with the caution and trepidation that had been beaten into him over the last many years. His routine had often been changed, tested.. just to see what he would do. But this was something completely new. Which meant a trap.
His head went on a swivel as he looked around. He didn’t approach the station, or the note, in a direct line. He didn’t take any kind of line. It was more a closing spiral, and even then, it was a broken spiral. He stepped and paused, and looked. Each step was tested before weight was placed, every nook and shadow was inspected before he would approach it.
Everything was taken with precaution. It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you.
It took time. Time was something that Caleb had learned meant something, and wasn’t to be wasted. But by that same token, time kept one alive. If you don’t take the time to inspect, to investigate, to learn (especially in this craft), then you might as well cut your own throat.
There were no traps or tricks that he crossed as he closed the distances towards the lab table. But that wasn’t to say that there wasn’t something. It just meant that Caleb hadn’t found it or tripped it. Even the note that sat there…. He stood and looked at and around it for a few moments.
Finally, he slid a hand back and withdrew the dagger that he kept along the small of his back. Caleb used the tip to flip the note open. He wasn’t going to touch the paper. There were oils that you could put on it that would.. well, depends on the oil what you wanted it to do. Burn the skin off what it touched… Seep in and poison the blood…
When the note was opened, he held his breath and used the blade to lift the note, flipping it. Besides the oil, there were powders…. No dust cloud appeared, even after he tapped the blade against the paper a few times, just to make sure. Then the knife was used to flip it back over and he stabbed the corner down, pinning it open.
He finally glanced at the words that were written.
Christopher Lloyd Johnson
$20,000
That was it. Just a name and a dollar amount. He stood there for a few moments and read it again, and again and again.
“Your first contract.” The voice came from the door. Had the Master wanted to, the Master could have beaten Caleb then for not knowing he was there. But there was no reaction to his voice, in hopes that the Master wouldn’t notice. In truth, Caleb’s heart was racing with the hearing of the Master’s voice. He should have heard him enter. He should have felt him. He should have… but he didn’t, because he was focused on the note and what it meant.
“Get it done.” The Master pushed from the door and turned.
Turning, Caleb looked to the door, but the Master was already gone. Still, he stood there, and stared at the empty door, processing the information, the note, the hidden message, and threat.
So, this was graduation. At least, a type of one.
Caleb finally turned back to the note as he reached into a pocket. Pulling a zippo, he lit it and tossed it onto the note. He would get another knife. The note immediately caught and started to burn purple. So there was an oil on the paper. Ha! Fucker. Let the bitch burn the place down. Not that it would.. but the thought was nice.
He followed the same path that he took, step for step, until he reached the door and slid out. Now, the real work began.
Caleb had no clue who this Johnson guy was. All that was given to him had been the name. Not even the contact who had hired him. The Master had kept all that information from Caleb. More games.. more testing..
So, the research started. Caleb had to figure out who the contract was before he could find out anything about them. Weeks went by as he went through phone books, birth records, and various other paperwork. This garnered him two pages of potentials. He knew that the target wouldn’t be a child, for the Master would not take any contract on a kid. That had been drilled into him, and he took it to heart. Didn’t even have to be beaten for that. It was one of the few times a question was allowed.
Children are innocent. They can be reprogrammed and can change their ways. It is the parents who are responsible for how a child acts or the things that a child might do. The child takes and learns from those around them. A scare is sometimes needed, but never their life.
So those names that were children were immediately scratched from the list. That didn’t narrow it down much, but it did help. With the list in mind, Caleb started to go out and look around. Posing as different professions to get close to the places which the names lived at. Of course, posing as those professions meant he had to know them. You couldn’t be believable if you didn’t have the knowledge.
That didn’t mean he had to be an expert. Just enough to get buy. An apprentice electrician, a new realtor, street repairman. It’s amazing the list of professions that can get you close to a target, if they don’t know they are a target. Even going out, he listening to conversations around him at restaurants, or as he walked near or passed people on the street. Anything that would lead him to the target.
Finally, Caleb caught a break as he listened in on a conversation at Mexican restaurant from a lady in the booth behind him. He had followed her because she had been in the dossier of one of the names on his list.
The conversation she was having, to any passer-by, would seem like a normal conversation. Except she would drop in a word here or there that didn't fit... almost like English wasn't their first language. "...conduxit..." "...tamquam eam..." "...valet enim spes the money..."
There wasn't many who could speak Latin, and being in a Mexican restaurant... well, Spanish got its roots from Latin, so it would be easy to miss if you weren't paying attention, which most were not.
Caleb continued to eat and listen to the conversation, taking the time to mentally note the information that was being discussed. There was a quick and quiet rush of words, spoken in such hatred and discuss, he knew he had his mark, and how the one who has put the money down would like to see it done. That was something he wasn't not expecting, but it would something to let the client know the job had been done, and not just some accident.
The conversation turned then off the mark and went on to more mundane things. Jobs, who she screwed a few nights ago and how she just thought she was in love with that poor bastard. Caleb quietly finished his meal and set the money to the table, getting up before the client finished, and headed out.
With the information in hand of who the target was, it was another few weeks of constant surveillance. Caleb did everything from following the man to his job, his home, and all the other places he went. He paid attention to what toothbrush he used, what shaving cream he preferred, what meals were eaten, and even the times he felt the call of nature. Caleb went through the targets trash, mail, computer files. There was nothing which didn't pass through his hands or his notice. Rest came in short periods of meditation, for he didn't dare let himself sleep and potentially lose the target.
He learned a lot about the target, and soon found out why he was being targeted. It wasn't his business to know these things, but that didn't stop him from finding out. It wasn't as if the target was hiding the fact... at least, not from him.
The target was a rapist. He had found the first threads of this on the computer, finding files that listed names, descriptions, locations.. and later pictures of his victims. The pictures were not distasteful, nor were they overly brutal. In fact, it seemed as if the target just had a lot of girls that he was seeing and was in the BSDM. But the rohypnol residue that he had found started to shed a different light to things. Then when Caleb came across the picture of the client... well, her graphic rushed whisper at the restaurant made sense.
Time had come and he had learned all that he needed to for the job to be completed.
The following day, he followed the target through his daily routine. Wake up, work, lunch, work, gym, bar.. but the night shifted just a little. The target had been quiet the entire time he had been watching him. Apparently, they were just doing the legwork, or biding their time, for their next target.
The music was blasting through the speakers when the door opened and the target walked in. It wasn’t the normal *Cheers* type of place, but more of a nightclub. It was easy enough to hand the bouncer at the door a small wad of bills and slip in, bypassing the line that the victim had waited in.
The target had made his way to the bar and was ordering a drink. Caleb followed, but slid up to the bar a few people away. “What’ll be?” came the question from the other side of the counter. “Vodka, straight.” Pulling a few bills, he slid them over when the drink came.
Time passed, and Caleb chatted with a few ladies who came up and spoke with him, even going so far as to buy them a drink now and then. But he didn’t drink more than a few more, and he wasn’t there for them. He kept an eye on the target through that time, using the mirror behind the bar or turning to watch him over the shoulder of whomever he was talking to at the time.
As midnight approached, he could tell that the target was interested in someone. Caleb shook his head. He didn’t want to deal with this. But, it wasn’t his choice. The target continued to talk it up with the lady there next to him, and even bought her a drink. Either she wasn’t paying attention, or the target had practiced the move a thousand times, but Caleb caught it. With a quick movement, as the target grabbed the drink from the counter to hand to the lady, a quick squeeze of a capsule had delivered the contents into the lady’s drink.
They continued to talk for the duration of that drink, then the target turned and settled up the tab with the bartender. Once done, he looked to the lady there. She was looking drunk, though Caleb knew that was only her second drink. She wasn’t heavy into drinking, and seemed to have some sense about her. She had done everything right… except take her drink from the bartender. The target made some comment to the lady and stepped in, wrapping an arm around her waist. To everyone, it would look like they were together, or he was helping her out. But to Caleb, he could see the tension in the fingers wrapped around her, holding her close, and the almost wild look in her eyes, knowing something was wrong, but not able to do anything about it.
Once outside, the target hailed a cab and they both got in. Caleb knew where they were going, based on the research of the pictures that he had seen previously. He didn’t bother with calling a cab, but turned and started to walk the street. Soon enough, he was moving passed the apartment block and into the alley next to it. Giving a quick glance around, he quickly scaled the fire escape and moved just to the edge of the window to the target’s chosen den for the night.
Caleb took a moment and glanced into the window. The lady was on the edge of the bed, and was fumbling around in her handbag, looking for something. The target walked in then and grabbed the bag, tossing it to the side. Then he grabbed her wrists and pulled her back onto the bed. The lady opened her mouth to scream, but the target smiled and put a ball gag into her mouth as soon as it opened. Then he proceeded to start to shackle her hands to the headboard, using feathered handcuffs. When he was done with that, he slowly slid off the bed and stood there, watching her a moment. He said something, but Caleb couldn’t make it out. His mouth wasn’t in full view. Then the target leaned down and cut open the lady’s clothes. She started to pull and buck, but the target set the knife along her stomach, and she quieted quickly after. When that was done, he turned and began to undress himself.
With his back turned, Caleb went into motion. The window wasn’t locked, but there was some rust on the bar. Grabbing some oil from a pocket, he dropped a few drops onto it and gave it a rub, making sure that it was fully coated. Then a few more drops were set to the slide and the oil replaced. Gently, he pulled at the window. It gave a soft pop, but it came at the same time as the target turned and knelt on the bed. Quickly, but quickly, he slid the window open and stepped in. His foot tested the floor first before he went farther, making sure that there were not creaking boards here next to the window. With rust on the bar, it’s possible there was something loose. Fortunately, there wasn’t. Caleb quietly, but quickly moved once inside, headed towards the bed. The lady’s eyes widened when she saw him, but with a smile and a quick shake of his head, she understood, or at least looked like she did.
“Wrong night.” Caleb’s words were soft, but carried something dark within them. He had learned from his Master that a voice could instill fear into the target, and cause them to freeze. He used that now, as the target froze in his climb towards the lady. The target started to turn, but Caleb slammed a hand down at the base of the target’s neck, knocking him out cold.
Pulling the target off the lady, Caleb then went to work on her. He moved to the edge of the bed and pulled out a pick, quickly opening first one handcuff and then the other. She didn’t move, and her eyes were still wide. The drug that the target gave her seemed to finally hit its full potency and she couldn’t do much. Gently, Caleb raised her up and helped her slide back so that she was sitting up and resting on the bed. Reaching into another pocket, he pulled out a small vial and uncorked it, then poured it into her mouth. “Swallow.” She didn’t seem like she wanted to, but Caleb wrapped a hand over her mouth and then massaged her throat, forcing her to swallow.
Turning then, he moved back to the target and squatted over the body. He studied him for a few moments, and then nodded, a grim look to his face. The lady started to cough and move then, and he looked back to her. “There are clothes in the next room. You’ll find that they fit you. Get dressed and leave quickly. In 2 hours, call the police and inform them of what he was trying to do. Give them this address. Do not make any comment about me. If they ask you how you got away, tell them someone heard your call and started banging on the door, which allowed you to escape by the fire escape.” He held her eyes during the entire time he told her then, and saw that she understood, and nodded quickly. Then she was up, though her legs still were not fully functional, and made her way into the other room.
Caleb lifted the body of the target then and tossed it onto the bed. He then went to work of securing the target the same way that he had secured the lady. Once done, took the knife the target had used and eyed it. It wasn’t a good one, but it didn’t need to be. With no regard for the fact the target was still alive, Caleb grabbed and sliced into the target’s lower body, cutting out the tool which he had intended to use. With the first stab, the target screamed himself awake. As blood poured out of the open hole now in the target’s body, the screams started to fade. Bleeding out went quicker than someone expected, but there was something that had to be done first, a request that he had overheard in that restaurant.
Taking that tool that was cut out, Caleb lifted the body and shoved it into the back-end. The target’s eyes widened with shock, horror, and terror. And as the light faded from them, they stayed that way, the mouth opened in silent screams.
Stepping back, careful not to step into any of the blood that had spilled and splattered, Caleb moved back out the window, and down the escape. The knife and anything he touched were tucked into the pocket with the empty vial and he slid off into the darkness of the night.
The names are made up. The story is made up.
This story contains stalking, violence, drugs, rape, and murder... so please, read ONLY if you are ready to do so.
If you ever need someone to talk to about something going on, there are people who will listen. You are not alone.))
Caleb's First Assassination
Training that day had been especially hard. It had started with a wakeup at just past midnight (nevermind he had went to bed at eleven thirty) to go on an errand for the Master. It was stupid, but Caleb had learned not to question, or even make an idle comment where he thought the Master couldn't hear. That had cost Caleb a week that he still couldn't remember.
Then after that errand (which was going across town to pick up a shirt... see? Stupid), he was forced to fight others who had come in the night before. The Master always had someone coming to him for something, and Caleb was always forced to fight them. That had lasted until the sun rose.
Then there was morning meditation and cooking breakfast for the house. Then he was running thirty miles (and it had better be done under three hours!). Then a quick shower and making lunch for the house.
When that was done, Caleb was allowed time to (you guessed it) train some more, this time going over, and using weapons of various natures. That had cost him a new set of stitches. After he got done sewing himself up, he headed towards the lab.
But when he got there, his station had been cleared and only a note was left.
Caleb approached the station with the caution and trepidation that had been beaten into him over the last many years. His routine had often been changed, tested.. just to see what he would do. But this was something completely new. Which meant a trap.
His head went on a swivel as he looked around. He didn’t approach the station, or the note, in a direct line. He didn’t take any kind of line. It was more a closing spiral, and even then, it was a broken spiral. He stepped and paused, and looked. Each step was tested before weight was placed, every nook and shadow was inspected before he would approach it.
Everything was taken with precaution. It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you.
It took time. Time was something that Caleb had learned meant something, and wasn’t to be wasted. But by that same token, time kept one alive. If you don’t take the time to inspect, to investigate, to learn (especially in this craft), then you might as well cut your own throat.
There were no traps or tricks that he crossed as he closed the distances towards the lab table. But that wasn’t to say that there wasn’t something. It just meant that Caleb hadn’t found it or tripped it. Even the note that sat there…. He stood and looked at and around it for a few moments.
Finally, he slid a hand back and withdrew the dagger that he kept along the small of his back. Caleb used the tip to flip the note open. He wasn’t going to touch the paper. There were oils that you could put on it that would.. well, depends on the oil what you wanted it to do. Burn the skin off what it touched… Seep in and poison the blood…
When the note was opened, he held his breath and used the blade to lift the note, flipping it. Besides the oil, there were powders…. No dust cloud appeared, even after he tapped the blade against the paper a few times, just to make sure. Then the knife was used to flip it back over and he stabbed the corner down, pinning it open.
He finally glanced at the words that were written.
Christopher Lloyd Johnson
$20,000
That was it. Just a name and a dollar amount. He stood there for a few moments and read it again, and again and again.
“Your first contract.” The voice came from the door. Had the Master wanted to, the Master could have beaten Caleb then for not knowing he was there. But there was no reaction to his voice, in hopes that the Master wouldn’t notice. In truth, Caleb’s heart was racing with the hearing of the Master’s voice. He should have heard him enter. He should have felt him. He should have… but he didn’t, because he was focused on the note and what it meant.
“Get it done.” The Master pushed from the door and turned.
Turning, Caleb looked to the door, but the Master was already gone. Still, he stood there, and stared at the empty door, processing the information, the note, the hidden message, and threat.
So, this was graduation. At least, a type of one.
Caleb finally turned back to the note as he reached into a pocket. Pulling a zippo, he lit it and tossed it onto the note. He would get another knife. The note immediately caught and started to burn purple. So there was an oil on the paper. Ha! Fucker. Let the bitch burn the place down. Not that it would.. but the thought was nice.
He followed the same path that he took, step for step, until he reached the door and slid out. Now, the real work began.
Caleb had no clue who this Johnson guy was. All that was given to him had been the name. Not even the contact who had hired him. The Master had kept all that information from Caleb. More games.. more testing..
So, the research started. Caleb had to figure out who the contract was before he could find out anything about them. Weeks went by as he went through phone books, birth records, and various other paperwork. This garnered him two pages of potentials. He knew that the target wouldn’t be a child, for the Master would not take any contract on a kid. That had been drilled into him, and he took it to heart. Didn’t even have to be beaten for that. It was one of the few times a question was allowed.
Children are innocent. They can be reprogrammed and can change their ways. It is the parents who are responsible for how a child acts or the things that a child might do. The child takes and learns from those around them. A scare is sometimes needed, but never their life.
So those names that were children were immediately scratched from the list. That didn’t narrow it down much, but it did help. With the list in mind, Caleb started to go out and look around. Posing as different professions to get close to the places which the names lived at. Of course, posing as those professions meant he had to know them. You couldn’t be believable if you didn’t have the knowledge.
That didn’t mean he had to be an expert. Just enough to get buy. An apprentice electrician, a new realtor, street repairman. It’s amazing the list of professions that can get you close to a target, if they don’t know they are a target. Even going out, he listening to conversations around him at restaurants, or as he walked near or passed people on the street. Anything that would lead him to the target.
Finally, Caleb caught a break as he listened in on a conversation at Mexican restaurant from a lady in the booth behind him. He had followed her because she had been in the dossier of one of the names on his list.
The conversation she was having, to any passer-by, would seem like a normal conversation. Except she would drop in a word here or there that didn't fit... almost like English wasn't their first language. "...conduxit..." "...tamquam eam..." "...valet enim spes the money..."
There wasn't many who could speak Latin, and being in a Mexican restaurant... well, Spanish got its roots from Latin, so it would be easy to miss if you weren't paying attention, which most were not.
Caleb continued to eat and listen to the conversation, taking the time to mentally note the information that was being discussed. There was a quick and quiet rush of words, spoken in such hatred and discuss, he knew he had his mark, and how the one who has put the money down would like to see it done. That was something he wasn't not expecting, but it would something to let the client know the job had been done, and not just some accident.
The conversation turned then off the mark and went on to more mundane things. Jobs, who she screwed a few nights ago and how she just thought she was in love with that poor bastard. Caleb quietly finished his meal and set the money to the table, getting up before the client finished, and headed out.
With the information in hand of who the target was, it was another few weeks of constant surveillance. Caleb did everything from following the man to his job, his home, and all the other places he went. He paid attention to what toothbrush he used, what shaving cream he preferred, what meals were eaten, and even the times he felt the call of nature. Caleb went through the targets trash, mail, computer files. There was nothing which didn't pass through his hands or his notice. Rest came in short periods of meditation, for he didn't dare let himself sleep and potentially lose the target.
He learned a lot about the target, and soon found out why he was being targeted. It wasn't his business to know these things, but that didn't stop him from finding out. It wasn't as if the target was hiding the fact... at least, not from him.
The target was a rapist. He had found the first threads of this on the computer, finding files that listed names, descriptions, locations.. and later pictures of his victims. The pictures were not distasteful, nor were they overly brutal. In fact, it seemed as if the target just had a lot of girls that he was seeing and was in the BSDM. But the rohypnol residue that he had found started to shed a different light to things. Then when Caleb came across the picture of the client... well, her graphic rushed whisper at the restaurant made sense.
Time had come and he had learned all that he needed to for the job to be completed.
The following day, he followed the target through his daily routine. Wake up, work, lunch, work, gym, bar.. but the night shifted just a little. The target had been quiet the entire time he had been watching him. Apparently, they were just doing the legwork, or biding their time, for their next target.
The music was blasting through the speakers when the door opened and the target walked in. It wasn’t the normal *Cheers* type of place, but more of a nightclub. It was easy enough to hand the bouncer at the door a small wad of bills and slip in, bypassing the line that the victim had waited in.
The target had made his way to the bar and was ordering a drink. Caleb followed, but slid up to the bar a few people away. “What’ll be?” came the question from the other side of the counter. “Vodka, straight.” Pulling a few bills, he slid them over when the drink came.
Time passed, and Caleb chatted with a few ladies who came up and spoke with him, even going so far as to buy them a drink now and then. But he didn’t drink more than a few more, and he wasn’t there for them. He kept an eye on the target through that time, using the mirror behind the bar or turning to watch him over the shoulder of whomever he was talking to at the time.
As midnight approached, he could tell that the target was interested in someone. Caleb shook his head. He didn’t want to deal with this. But, it wasn’t his choice. The target continued to talk it up with the lady there next to him, and even bought her a drink. Either she wasn’t paying attention, or the target had practiced the move a thousand times, but Caleb caught it. With a quick movement, as the target grabbed the drink from the counter to hand to the lady, a quick squeeze of a capsule had delivered the contents into the lady’s drink.
They continued to talk for the duration of that drink, then the target turned and settled up the tab with the bartender. Once done, he looked to the lady there. She was looking drunk, though Caleb knew that was only her second drink. She wasn’t heavy into drinking, and seemed to have some sense about her. She had done everything right… except take her drink from the bartender. The target made some comment to the lady and stepped in, wrapping an arm around her waist. To everyone, it would look like they were together, or he was helping her out. But to Caleb, he could see the tension in the fingers wrapped around her, holding her close, and the almost wild look in her eyes, knowing something was wrong, but not able to do anything about it.
Once outside, the target hailed a cab and they both got in. Caleb knew where they were going, based on the research of the pictures that he had seen previously. He didn’t bother with calling a cab, but turned and started to walk the street. Soon enough, he was moving passed the apartment block and into the alley next to it. Giving a quick glance around, he quickly scaled the fire escape and moved just to the edge of the window to the target’s chosen den for the night.
Caleb took a moment and glanced into the window. The lady was on the edge of the bed, and was fumbling around in her handbag, looking for something. The target walked in then and grabbed the bag, tossing it to the side. Then he grabbed her wrists and pulled her back onto the bed. The lady opened her mouth to scream, but the target smiled and put a ball gag into her mouth as soon as it opened. Then he proceeded to start to shackle her hands to the headboard, using feathered handcuffs. When he was done with that, he slowly slid off the bed and stood there, watching her a moment. He said something, but Caleb couldn’t make it out. His mouth wasn’t in full view. Then the target leaned down and cut open the lady’s clothes. She started to pull and buck, but the target set the knife along her stomach, and she quieted quickly after. When that was done, he turned and began to undress himself.
With his back turned, Caleb went into motion. The window wasn’t locked, but there was some rust on the bar. Grabbing some oil from a pocket, he dropped a few drops onto it and gave it a rub, making sure that it was fully coated. Then a few more drops were set to the slide and the oil replaced. Gently, he pulled at the window. It gave a soft pop, but it came at the same time as the target turned and knelt on the bed. Quickly, but quickly, he slid the window open and stepped in. His foot tested the floor first before he went farther, making sure that there were not creaking boards here next to the window. With rust on the bar, it’s possible there was something loose. Fortunately, there wasn’t. Caleb quietly, but quickly moved once inside, headed towards the bed. The lady’s eyes widened when she saw him, but with a smile and a quick shake of his head, she understood, or at least looked like she did.
“Wrong night.” Caleb’s words were soft, but carried something dark within them. He had learned from his Master that a voice could instill fear into the target, and cause them to freeze. He used that now, as the target froze in his climb towards the lady. The target started to turn, but Caleb slammed a hand down at the base of the target’s neck, knocking him out cold.
Pulling the target off the lady, Caleb then went to work on her. He moved to the edge of the bed and pulled out a pick, quickly opening first one handcuff and then the other. She didn’t move, and her eyes were still wide. The drug that the target gave her seemed to finally hit its full potency and she couldn’t do much. Gently, Caleb raised her up and helped her slide back so that she was sitting up and resting on the bed. Reaching into another pocket, he pulled out a small vial and uncorked it, then poured it into her mouth. “Swallow.” She didn’t seem like she wanted to, but Caleb wrapped a hand over her mouth and then massaged her throat, forcing her to swallow.
Turning then, he moved back to the target and squatted over the body. He studied him for a few moments, and then nodded, a grim look to his face. The lady started to cough and move then, and he looked back to her. “There are clothes in the next room. You’ll find that they fit you. Get dressed and leave quickly. In 2 hours, call the police and inform them of what he was trying to do. Give them this address. Do not make any comment about me. If they ask you how you got away, tell them someone heard your call and started banging on the door, which allowed you to escape by the fire escape.” He held her eyes during the entire time he told her then, and saw that she understood, and nodded quickly. Then she was up, though her legs still were not fully functional, and made her way into the other room.
Caleb lifted the body of the target then and tossed it onto the bed. He then went to work of securing the target the same way that he had secured the lady. Once done, took the knife the target had used and eyed it. It wasn’t a good one, but it didn’t need to be. With no regard for the fact the target was still alive, Caleb grabbed and sliced into the target’s lower body, cutting out the tool which he had intended to use. With the first stab, the target screamed himself awake. As blood poured out of the open hole now in the target’s body, the screams started to fade. Bleeding out went quicker than someone expected, but there was something that had to be done first, a request that he had overheard in that restaurant.
Taking that tool that was cut out, Caleb lifted the body and shoved it into the back-end. The target’s eyes widened with shock, horror, and terror. And as the light faded from them, they stayed that way, the mouth opened in silent screams.
Stepping back, careful not to step into any of the blood that had spilled and splattered, Caleb moved back out the window, and down the escape. The knife and anything he touched were tucked into the pocket with the empty vial and he slid off into the darkness of the night.
Though you may run, you can never hide..
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests