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Banned
OVR: 31
Join Date: Nov 2008
Location: Westchester County, NY
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Remorse -- An NHL 10 BAP
The cool, night air stung his bearded face as he quickly walked across the deserted parking lot, wearing a thick black trench coat, carrying a large duffel bag.
He continued to walk, blinking away the dew forming now in the corners of his eyes, not bothering to look at his surroundings.
He walked on and on, and finally, reached the end of the parking lot.
“They should have been here by now...” The man mumbled to himself, pulling up his right-handed sleeve to better view the time on his watch.
It was late. The dawn would be approaching soon.
He couldn't work in the dawn.
He pulled out a cigarette, slowly caressing the tip in between his fingers, while he fumbled for a lighter.
Just as he was about to light his smoke, however, he heard a sound he knew all too well: that of tires screeching, and a single car speeding up the parking lot's ramp.
He took a few large puffs on his cigarette before throwing it over the side of the edge of the lot.
Two large, balded men came out of the beat up van first, AK-47's tucked over their backs.
They nodded curtly to the bearded man, who did likewise.
In one fluid motion, the two bodyguards parted simultaneously, as if they were a swinging door, and helped their boss out of their vehicle.
The bearded man looked up, now, gaze solely on the person who was slowly being lifted towards the ground.
“H-Hi,” He said sheepishly.
“Don't be foolish, Adam,” The boss said. She was a tall, lithe blond, standing nearly at 6 feet in height. She had soft facial features, yet Adam knew well enough not to judge a book by a cover—especially this novel. As beautiful and innocent as she seemed, Adam knew the stories—fingers, hands and arms chopped off for failing to deliver her packages in a manner she deemed fitting.
Eyeballs gouged of innocents who saw things they should not have seen.
Men killed because of an improper amount of money for purchasing her goods.
No...
Adam gulped nervously, now, suddenly unable to bring himself to look directly at the woman.
“Isabella, I--”
“You what?” She sneered. In the blink of an eye, she moved very close to him, almost so that their chins were touching.
“You are a pathetic man,” She softly whispered, only audible to him. He whimpered slightly at her touch. He had wanted it, of course. But her sudden closeness was starting to scare him.
“I-I'm only here to do one thing,” He said miserably. “I intend to make a purchase.”
“Ah!” She exclaimed, withdrawing from him swiftly. “A purchase! Why didn't you say so?”
“It's the reason I cal--”
“Be quiet, you silly boy!” She yelled at him from her van, cutting across him rudely. He didn't care.
She was beautiful to him, and she could have whatever she wanted, so long as she was happy.
She rummaged through her van for what seemed like forever, and finally submerged, carrying a large and seemingly heavy suitcase with her.
“Here are my wares,” She said. She opened the suitcase once she got near him, and Adam licked his lips lusciously as he stared at the large amount of the white dust.
“How much?” He asked, and it seemed as if an entirely different being had taken control of him. The greed showed in his voice—it was clearly audible.
“Five.”
“Fine,” He said, and he handed her his duffel bag immediately, and grabbed the cocaine, turning back now towards his end of the parking lot.
He heard a gun ****, however, and stopped immediately.
“Do you take me for a fool, Adam?” She asked coolly.
“I, what? No, of course not!”
“Hmm...” she said, as she opened the bag's zipper ever so slowly.
Adam began to tap his foot, nervously.
“It seems that there is only five thousand in here...”
“Well, yeah, that's what you wanted, wasn't it?” Adam said.
One of her guards lifted his AK.
“NO!” He screamed, turning to flee the scene.
Too late.
The airfoil round hit him squarely in the chest, and he fell to the ground in excruciating pain.
As his vision dimmed before him, he saw Isabella tower over him, like a bright sun on a dark and dreary day.
She smirked slightly at him, at first, and then, he heard them as well...but was he hallucinating?
Apparently he wasn't, however, as he saw her head turn towards the sirens' source, with a faint look of worry on her face.
She turned towards him once more, smirking even more.
“Looks like our little friends are going to find you first.”
He could not say anything—he did not have the strength.
The last thing he heard before drifting to sleep was the orders of his dearest beloved:
“Take his money, and blow up his car before we leave. It looks like we're going to have to sell this stuff ourselves—there's not a singly worthy crack dealer in this god damned city anymore.”
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08-15-2009, 12:49 PM
