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Deciet Runs Two Ways - Challenge 3 (Violence & Profanity)

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Author Topic: Deciet Runs Two Ways - Challenge 3 (Violence & Profanity)  (Read 150 times)
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« on: June 01, 2007, 11:03:29 pm »

I just kinda typed this to excersize my brain.  my apologies if it sucks.

“**** **** ****….” Roy muttered under his breath as he ran as fast as his tired legs would carry him.  He had lost track of how long he had been running, but he was nearly there.  His lungs were burning and his legs felt like Jell-O.  He would likely collapse when he got where he was going, but he didn’t care.  At least he would be safe.

He slammed into the heavy glass door of the apartment complex, before he could slow himself down.  He pulled the door open and limped into the lobby.  He punched in a code into the intercom system and waited for the other end to answer, gasping for air.

“What?” the other voice answered.

“Joey, man…open up.”

“Who’s this?” Joey asked.

“It’s Roy, dammit.  Let me in.”

There was a pause before the buzzer went off, signaling that the lobby door opened.  Roy pulled himself down the hall and stepped into an elevator, stabbing the six button before leaning heavily against the wall.

The door chimed and the door opened, revealing apartment 604.  Roy knocked on the door and heard a muted, “It’s open.”

He opened the door and saw Joey watching the holovid anchored in the floor of the apartment.  The air of the apartment smelled faintly of bleach, as if his friend had cleaned something for a change.  “Hey Roy, the fight’s about to begin…” Joey stood up from his chair and studied his friend.  “Damn, man…you look like ****.”

“I ran from the office to here,” Roy explained.

“Christ!  That’s…like…six kilometers dude.  You aren’t exactly in good shape.  How did you not have a heart attack?”

Collapsing into a recliner, Roy looked up at Joey.  “Couldn’t afford to be traced…I pissed off some very dangerous people tonight.”

“You better not have been traced…I can’t afford to have the feds kickin’ in my door,” Joey said from the kitchen.

“Not the feds…criminal types.”

Joey emerged from the kitchen with a pair of beers.  Pointing the bottom of a bottle at Roy, he said, “Why were you even dealing with them?”

“I had no choice!” Roy said.  “They pulled up in a car and confronted me on the street.  They demanded that I hand over a project I was working on.  Apparently, my secret project isn’t so secret, cause other companies are willing to hurt people to get it.”

“Go to the cops then.  Why come here?”

“The project isn’t exactly legal…I’d get screwed,” Roy twisted of the cap from his bottle and took a healthy pull from it.  “You were the only option I had left.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Well…I uh, gave those crooks a decoy.”

“You did?!  Good stuff.  Did they buy it?”

“I think so, but it won’t fool them for long.  I need you to protect the real thing.”

“Sure thing.  You have it on you?”

“No, it’s in the safe in my office.  You remember how to get past security?” Roy asked.

“Through the ventilation system?  Yeah, no sweat.  If this thing’s in a safe, I’ll need the combination.”

Roy reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.  “Today’s combination is right here.  It will reset at midnight, so you’ll need to go soon.”

“Gotcha,” Joey said.  “I’ll keep it real safe, don’t you worry.”

Roy nodded and went to bring the bottle to his lips but found the bottle unusually heavy.  Instead, the bottle fell to the floor, spilling beer onto the carpet.  He went to pick up and found he couldn’t feel his body.

“Joey…I…I can’t move!”

His eyes shifted to where Joey stood with a smirk.  Joey suddenly faded into a pixilated version of himself before fading away entirely, revealing a man in a black suit that covered his entire body.  Pulling back the hood, one of the men he saw in the car earlier in the day smiled an arrogant smile.

“Thanks for the intel, Roy,” he said.

“You…where’s Joey?”

“He’s cooling off in the bath,” the man said.  “He was very helpful in predicting what you would do after dropping that fake on us.”

“I had to!  My company policy demands it…”

“I know…business is business.”  The man picked up a throw pillow off Joey’s couch and reached inside a pre-cut hole to pull out a pistol and silencer.  He screwed the silencer onto the barrel slowly, in silence.  “You understand what I have to do, right?  It’s just business…”

“Help m…” Roy began to yell before the man snapped two shots into Roy’s forehead.  Unceremoniously, the man dropped the weapon into Roy’s lap before donning street clothes to hide his replication suit and walking out the door.
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My imaginary friend thinks I have mental problems...

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Tau Worlock
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« Reply #1 on: June 02, 2007, 09:47:55 am »

Now that is unlucky. How did the hit men know where to find Joey?
Any way, another good one, tough a bit on the short side, or did I read it to quickly? Wink
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« Reply #2 on: June 03, 2007, 09:03:00 am »

deceit, i think. I would try and quote the spelling rule but with all the exceptions we'd be here for hours.
not only how did the hit men know where Joey lived but if Roy and Joey know each other well then how did they know Joey well enough to pretend to be him, unless of course Joey was working with the hitmen for some reason.
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AMERICA here I come,
I will be out of the country - and away from internet - for the next 2-3 weeks.

A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step,
A story of a thousand words starts with a single thought.
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