woodyloveslinkin
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It's a troll account.
MS - Rav's newest story
- Thread starter Ravynlee
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Ravynlee
New member
A what? Haha there ya didn't didn't know such things existed ^^ Learn something new everyday.
And thanks Sarah, aww, make a woman blush
Okay literally just penned it and am posting it to get it out there and off my chest so to speak. Too lazy to edit it, you should all be used to how this works by now. If I see any problems I'll fix it. Other than that, here's tonight's update. Warning - as usual, gore ahead. (You had to be expecting it by now and if not, maybe you forgot what thread you were in )
Should be all good. As always feel free to pull me up if something's amiss/needs elaborating. Will do my best to tie it all together as best I can in these closing chapters.
Enjoy. And more as soon as I'm done penning it.
“Hey,” came a voice from the darkness.
Squinting through the bright light above Ryu grunted. His eyes rolled back heavily into his head.
“Hey, wake up, stay with us big guy,” a familiar voice beckoned, “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”
“Mike?” Ryu croaked.
He tried.
He seemed to come around a lot faster when he realised a gag had been tied around his mouth. With great effort he slumped his head forward able to see the gathering shadows around him and eyes amidst them all staring in his direction.
“Mike?” Ryu grunted through the gag again.
The shadow stood before him holding his head between its hands. Manoeuvring it at a certain angle the man afforded Ryu the chance to focus and he blinked his eyes furiously.
“Morning,” Mike greeted.
He was smiling. Beneath the cap’s brim his eyes were gleaming like black polished marbles.
“How you feeling? Feeling any better? Have a good sleep did we?”
Ryu grunted. Guilt or exhaustion made his head fall forward again. Mike chuckled a little as he again helped his friend’s head up. When Ryu instinctively bucked against his restraints Mike’s apparent humour faded.
“Man, you sleep like the dead.”
Ryu winced around the gag. He had only just realised his hands were cuffed to the frame of the chair behind him as well as his ankles and a rope was tied around his neck. Trying to drag his feet forward only forced his head to arc painfully backwards, and with that harrowing instant his eyes narrowed in disbelief to realise he had been bound like some common criminal – or worse. His broad shoulders shuddered with strain as he tried to heft himself up out of the chair once, twice, three times. The chains jangled and the cuffs clattered as they rubbed against the chair’s metal frame. As big and as brawny as Ryu was there was no way he was going to be able to break it – and just like that his head fell lowly in defeat. His chin burrowed in against the material of his shirt as Mike could be heard uttering words of warning above him. Despite the sound of his voice the accompanying sound of his laughter, albeit low, was unmistakably goading.
“Hey! Hey! Relax! I just want to ask you a few questions all right, that’s all. Calm down. No one’s going to get hurt. Just relax… that’a’boy.”
A few feet away Mel stood watching on with her arms folded defensively against her chest. Though she was for the most part half bathed in a heavy contrast of light and shade she could feel the presence of the others around her, watching on as well. It was surreal to think that only a handful of months here they had stood, all strangers, all willing participants to this little empire of renegade justice that Mike had almost single-handedly created – In this very room only a few feet away she remembered how they had all been positioned when Mike had first walked her in here to be one of the team. Faces were missing from that memory now and though she had never grown as close to any of them as she had for the most part Mike, she still felt their absence keenly. She remembered too the sound that turn-coat Joe Hahn had made when Mike had stood there beside her helping her pin him face down on the card table and saw into his finger with a flick knife. Though she had arguably seen and committed far more atrocious acts since then something about the simple raw brutality of that one act had stuck with her, embedding itself into her waking thoughts like a splinter beneath a layer of inflamed skin. As she stood there now staring at Ryu hogtied and gagged to a chair she couldn’t help but grimace at the irony of her situation and how despite everything she had done and on occasion narrowly avoided just seemed to bring her back to this very place in time, almost as if it was all just meant to be.
She watched as Mike wandered away from his friend and watched the way the overhead bare bulb illuminated the captive and the looming figure, needing something painfully simple to focus on to keep her mind in check for the horrors she knew were more than likely about to play out in front of her – and that she was arguably responsible for. Though Bam was around she couldn’t see him and nor could she hear him, and it was probably just as well they were physically split up to keep other’s tongues from wagging. The back room of Fort Minor, lined with boxes and speakers and broken lights and general assorted detritus that overflowed from the inner workings of the actual club, seemed limitless beneath that one small impossibly bright light. Glimpsing up Mel couldn’t see the ceiling and looking down all she could make out of the floor was in the diffused shape of a circle. In the centre Ryu sat slumped unable to look up from his lap with his breaths so loud that they seemed to be the only noise penetrating the room. Mel was glad in a way that he was coming off so wretched, any other reaction would have made him look less guilty and would bring her and Bam’s claims of betrayal into question. And to that she too bowed her head a little and smirked to herself darkly. No one appeared to have seen it as she looked up just to make sure. Out of the corner of her eye the bottle of bleach sat atop a pile of papers on a nearby messed up table. Beside it sat a plastic funnel with its narrow end pointed like a witches hat towards the ceiling. The two combined sent an ominous chill up the young woman’s spine as she cleared her throat and gripped her arms tighter around herself in an effort to recompose herself. She was as anxious as if she were about to do a hit but knew this time the mark was well and truly out of her hands. Watching Mike stroll back to his previous seat atop a nearby dusty amplifier Mel was struck numb to think that he, someone who could mingle so seemingly with the hobnobs in Wall Street, who was humble enough to visit underprivileged schools to lend his time and assets, who still spoke to his wife and lavish expensive gifts on her as if they were still courting, could take that proverbial step across and take another’s life as he had so easily charged others. For all his talk of revenge for what had been done to his brother could the Mike Shinoda she knew actually concede his old life and become, like her, a cold-blooded killer?
And thanks Sarah, aww, make a woman blush
Okay literally just penned it and am posting it to get it out there and off my chest so to speak. Too lazy to edit it, you should all be used to how this works by now. If I see any problems I'll fix it. Other than that, here's tonight's update. Warning - as usual, gore ahead. (You had to be expecting it by now and if not, maybe you forgot what thread you were in
)Should be all good. As always feel free to pull me up if something's amiss/needs elaborating. Will do my best to tie it all together as best I can in these closing chapters.
Enjoy. And more as soon as I'm done penning it.
---
“Hey,” came a voice from the darkness.
Squinting through the bright light above Ryu grunted. His eyes rolled back heavily into his head.
“Hey, wake up, stay with us big guy,” a familiar voice beckoned, “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”
“Mike?” Ryu croaked.
He tried.
He seemed to come around a lot faster when he realised a gag had been tied around his mouth. With great effort he slumped his head forward able to see the gathering shadows around him and eyes amidst them all staring in his direction.
“Mike?” Ryu grunted through the gag again.
The shadow stood before him holding his head between its hands. Manoeuvring it at a certain angle the man afforded Ryu the chance to focus and he blinked his eyes furiously.
“Morning,” Mike greeted.
He was smiling. Beneath the cap’s brim his eyes were gleaming like black polished marbles.
“How you feeling? Feeling any better? Have a good sleep did we?”
Ryu grunted. Guilt or exhaustion made his head fall forward again. Mike chuckled a little as he again helped his friend’s head up. When Ryu instinctively bucked against his restraints Mike’s apparent humour faded.
“Man, you sleep like the dead.”
Ryu winced around the gag. He had only just realised his hands were cuffed to the frame of the chair behind him as well as his ankles and a rope was tied around his neck. Trying to drag his feet forward only forced his head to arc painfully backwards, and with that harrowing instant his eyes narrowed in disbelief to realise he had been bound like some common criminal – or worse. His broad shoulders shuddered with strain as he tried to heft himself up out of the chair once, twice, three times. The chains jangled and the cuffs clattered as they rubbed against the chair’s metal frame. As big and as brawny as Ryu was there was no way he was going to be able to break it – and just like that his head fell lowly in defeat. His chin burrowed in against the material of his shirt as Mike could be heard uttering words of warning above him. Despite the sound of his voice the accompanying sound of his laughter, albeit low, was unmistakably goading.
“Hey! Hey! Relax! I just want to ask you a few questions all right, that’s all. Calm down. No one’s going to get hurt. Just relax… that’a’boy.”
A few feet away Mel stood watching on with her arms folded defensively against her chest. Though she was for the most part half bathed in a heavy contrast of light and shade she could feel the presence of the others around her, watching on as well. It was surreal to think that only a handful of months here they had stood, all strangers, all willing participants to this little empire of renegade justice that Mike had almost single-handedly created – In this very room only a few feet away she remembered how they had all been positioned when Mike had first walked her in here to be one of the team. Faces were missing from that memory now and though she had never grown as close to any of them as she had for the most part Mike, she still felt their absence keenly. She remembered too the sound that turn-coat Joe Hahn had made when Mike had stood there beside her helping her pin him face down on the card table and saw into his finger with a flick knife. Though she had arguably seen and committed far more atrocious acts since then something about the simple raw brutality of that one act had stuck with her, embedding itself into her waking thoughts like a splinter beneath a layer of inflamed skin. As she stood there now staring at Ryu hogtied and gagged to a chair she couldn’t help but grimace at the irony of her situation and how despite everything she had done and on occasion narrowly avoided just seemed to bring her back to this very place in time, almost as if it was all just meant to be.
She watched as Mike wandered away from his friend and watched the way the overhead bare bulb illuminated the captive and the looming figure, needing something painfully simple to focus on to keep her mind in check for the horrors she knew were more than likely about to play out in front of her – and that she was arguably responsible for. Though Bam was around she couldn’t see him and nor could she hear him, and it was probably just as well they were physically split up to keep other’s tongues from wagging. The back room of Fort Minor, lined with boxes and speakers and broken lights and general assorted detritus that overflowed from the inner workings of the actual club, seemed limitless beneath that one small impossibly bright light. Glimpsing up Mel couldn’t see the ceiling and looking down all she could make out of the floor was in the diffused shape of a circle. In the centre Ryu sat slumped unable to look up from his lap with his breaths so loud that they seemed to be the only noise penetrating the room. Mel was glad in a way that he was coming off so wretched, any other reaction would have made him look less guilty and would bring her and Bam’s claims of betrayal into question. And to that she too bowed her head a little and smirked to herself darkly. No one appeared to have seen it as she looked up just to make sure. Out of the corner of her eye the bottle of bleach sat atop a pile of papers on a nearby messed up table. Beside it sat a plastic funnel with its narrow end pointed like a witches hat towards the ceiling. The two combined sent an ominous chill up the young woman’s spine as she cleared her throat and gripped her arms tighter around herself in an effort to recompose herself. She was as anxious as if she were about to do a hit but knew this time the mark was well and truly out of her hands. Watching Mike stroll back to his previous seat atop a nearby dusty amplifier Mel was struck numb to think that he, someone who could mingle so seemingly with the hobnobs in Wall Street, who was humble enough to visit underprivileged schools to lend his time and assets, who still spoke to his wife and lavish expensive gifts on her as if they were still courting, could take that proverbial step across and take another’s life as he had so easily charged others. For all his talk of revenge for what had been done to his brother could the Mike Shinoda she knew actually concede his old life and become, like her, a cold-blooded killer?
Ravynlee
New member
The interrogation was not as drawn out as she had half expected it to be. In her mind’s eye she had imagined Mike to go on with some long winded spiel about how damaging Ryu’s alleged actions had been and how damned he was now here trussed up like some life-sized Thanksgiving turkey set out for the benefit of all his friends to see, but that’s not what played out in front of her. Mike was too curt to play games tonight, his demeanour that sometimes came off either immaturely playful or cynically arrogant was nowhere in sight as he sat there just staring at his friend with his eyes lost to the cap’s black shadow saying nothing. His silence made everyone uncomfortable only because for having summoned everyone here with an apparent plan Mike now looked as if he had lost his previous conviction or had just completely given up altogether. The stern look on his face however looked to have been carved from some smooth tanned stone as he just sat there staring. Ryu grunted and appeared, eventually, to be pleading around his gag. After a few minutes Mike stood up and walked over to the table and snatched up the funnel and the bottle of cleaning agent. Ryu’s eyes went wide with horror as Mike approached.
“I’m not going to waste my time,” Mike began, gruffly wrenching the material from the man’s mouth to feed the funnel in.
Ryu was shaking his head and begging for his life, for reason, all to no avail. The sounds echoed off the dim and shadowed walls and were smartly ended with one fierce and brutal blow to the face. No one was game enough to move as Mike sniffed, rubbed his knuckles and recomposed himself enough to ****** the bottle back up off the floor to try again. “I’m not interested in hearing your lies. I don’t care to hear what you have to say. It means **** to me now. Open your mouth.”
“Mike, come on,” a voice braved from the darkness. It was Tak, predictably, unable to stand and watch in silence as he stepped forward into the light. “You can’t do this,” he beseeched, his big dark eyes hopeless.
Mike looked up at him, his hands busy jimmying the plastic funnel in between Ryu’s teeth and the other hold his face with the bleach still swishing around in his fist.
“He’s your friend. We all are. But what you’re doing, man, this is crazy-”
Mike scoffed. His teeth flashed like the most disturbing of smiles. If he had been trying to come off unstable he was doing one **** of a convincing job at it, as Tak bravely shuffled a few inches closer.
“No! Crazy? You want to know crazy? It’s Brad lying dead on the street because he knew me, it’s my wife in a ******* hospital because she loved me, it’s this, this **** right here, friend against friend, I can’t trust any of you anymore! You want to cross me, do it! Don’t be like this **** here and run behind my back and do it, do it in front of me, to my face where I can see it-!”
“Mike no, it’s not like that at all-”
“Then back off!” Mike warned threateningly.
Ryu bucked and spat the funnel out as far as he was physically able. Mike was forced backwards as Ryu continued to rock and jerk and wrestle about against the chair. He was yelling back now how he was innocent, how he hadn’t done anything, and how badly he had been set up, just as Mike had.
“Can’t you see she’s ******* using you!” Ryu cried, his face red and hot and his eyes slitted like the cornered animal he was with spit raining from the corners of his mouth.
“Who?”
“Melissa! That *****! That ****! That two-timing *****-!” Ryu bellowed.
All eyes turned to Mel as Mike again swung his fist back and pounded into his friend again and again and again repeatedly, silencing him. No one was game enough to move now to stop him and by the time Mike had drawn back Ryu was slumped aside with a ribbon of blood-coloured saliva oozing from his mouth and chin. The loud clacks and dull thuds of fists against flesh and bone dissipated up into the atmosphere and faded into memory. The sounds that followed were only of Mike and Ryu struggling to slow their haggard breaths.
Time seemed to have stopped now and no one said or did anything as Mike sunk backwards a few steps still bathed in light to swipe his cap off and smear his forearm against his sweaty brow. The peaks of his knuckles were slick and red and glistened before he swept the blood off on the side of his pants brusquely. Reapplying the cap he cleared his throat, hacked, and spat derisively aside. When he looked up it was into Ryu’s battered and rasping face.
Mike snorted and spat aside a second time. That one was for show and he made sure Ryu could see it.
“You,” Mike uttered.
His voice was low dry and loathsome. Grunting with pain and hate Ryu slid his eyes aside. But Mike was turning away. His dark eyes scanned the room full of faces all staring on like witnesses to a car crash. When he stopped the room seemed to hold it’s breath collectively. He was staring into Mel’s face bitterly. Without breaking stride he spat aside again and wiped his mouth with the back of his bloodied hand. He was scowling at her in a way that went beyond just physical. Mel swallowed loudly.
“Give me your gun,” he said.
Staring dead ahead into his eyes Mel reached down and pulling the weapon from the elastic of her pants she obediently handed it over. Mike took it and held on to both the gun and her eyes for a drawn out moment. He didn’t say anything but then he didn’t have to. Something about the air seemed to have changed, she could feel the subtle temperature shift and the sound of shocked gasps around her. In her peripheral vision however she saw little, she was for all intents and purposes, stuck in a vacuum now with Mike Shinoda, and there was only one foreseeable outcome. When she felt him tug the metal free from her grip Mel felt her insides sink and with it a serene kind of acceptance kick in. Her bottom lip twitched as she drew her shoulders up and stood tall before him. She watched, unable to turn away, as Mike thumbed it off safety and cocked it and raised it slowly to her face.
On some level she had almost expected this. It didn’t shock her, as it appeared to have stunned everyone else.
Mel nodded and swallowed so loud she was deaf to everything else. If this was how she was meant to go out then so be it, she thought on impulse. In her mind she could see Benji’s smiling face and it made her chest and stomach swell with a warm kind of joy.
I’ll wait for him on the other side, she vowed to herself. Her eyes zeroed in on the eye of the barrel looking comically large and ominous mere inches from the bridge of her nose. At least there we will be safe and together and happy. I’m ready.
“I’m not going to waste my time,” Mike began, gruffly wrenching the material from the man’s mouth to feed the funnel in.
Ryu was shaking his head and begging for his life, for reason, all to no avail. The sounds echoed off the dim and shadowed walls and were smartly ended with one fierce and brutal blow to the face. No one was game enough to move as Mike sniffed, rubbed his knuckles and recomposed himself enough to ****** the bottle back up off the floor to try again. “I’m not interested in hearing your lies. I don’t care to hear what you have to say. It means **** to me now. Open your mouth.”
“Mike, come on,” a voice braved from the darkness. It was Tak, predictably, unable to stand and watch in silence as he stepped forward into the light. “You can’t do this,” he beseeched, his big dark eyes hopeless.
Mike looked up at him, his hands busy jimmying the plastic funnel in between Ryu’s teeth and the other hold his face with the bleach still swishing around in his fist.
“He’s your friend. We all are. But what you’re doing, man, this is crazy-”
Mike scoffed. His teeth flashed like the most disturbing of smiles. If he had been trying to come off unstable he was doing one **** of a convincing job at it, as Tak bravely shuffled a few inches closer.
“No! Crazy? You want to know crazy? It’s Brad lying dead on the street because he knew me, it’s my wife in a ******* hospital because she loved me, it’s this, this **** right here, friend against friend, I can’t trust any of you anymore! You want to cross me, do it! Don’t be like this **** here and run behind my back and do it, do it in front of me, to my face where I can see it-!”
“Mike no, it’s not like that at all-”
“Then back off!” Mike warned threateningly.
Ryu bucked and spat the funnel out as far as he was physically able. Mike was forced backwards as Ryu continued to rock and jerk and wrestle about against the chair. He was yelling back now how he was innocent, how he hadn’t done anything, and how badly he had been set up, just as Mike had.
“Can’t you see she’s ******* using you!” Ryu cried, his face red and hot and his eyes slitted like the cornered animal he was with spit raining from the corners of his mouth.
“Who?”
“Melissa! That *****! That ****! That two-timing *****-!” Ryu bellowed.
All eyes turned to Mel as Mike again swung his fist back and pounded into his friend again and again and again repeatedly, silencing him. No one was game enough to move now to stop him and by the time Mike had drawn back Ryu was slumped aside with a ribbon of blood-coloured saliva oozing from his mouth and chin. The loud clacks and dull thuds of fists against flesh and bone dissipated up into the atmosphere and faded into memory. The sounds that followed were only of Mike and Ryu struggling to slow their haggard breaths.
Time seemed to have stopped now and no one said or did anything as Mike sunk backwards a few steps still bathed in light to swipe his cap off and smear his forearm against his sweaty brow. The peaks of his knuckles were slick and red and glistened before he swept the blood off on the side of his pants brusquely. Reapplying the cap he cleared his throat, hacked, and spat derisively aside. When he looked up it was into Ryu’s battered and rasping face.
Mike snorted and spat aside a second time. That one was for show and he made sure Ryu could see it.
“You,” Mike uttered.
His voice was low dry and loathsome. Grunting with pain and hate Ryu slid his eyes aside. But Mike was turning away. His dark eyes scanned the room full of faces all staring on like witnesses to a car crash. When he stopped the room seemed to hold it’s breath collectively. He was staring into Mel’s face bitterly. Without breaking stride he spat aside again and wiped his mouth with the back of his bloodied hand. He was scowling at her in a way that went beyond just physical. Mel swallowed loudly.
“Give me your gun,” he said.
Staring dead ahead into his eyes Mel reached down and pulling the weapon from the elastic of her pants she obediently handed it over. Mike took it and held on to both the gun and her eyes for a drawn out moment. He didn’t say anything but then he didn’t have to. Something about the air seemed to have changed, she could feel the subtle temperature shift and the sound of shocked gasps around her. In her peripheral vision however she saw little, she was for all intents and purposes, stuck in a vacuum now with Mike Shinoda, and there was only one foreseeable outcome. When she felt him tug the metal free from her grip Mel felt her insides sink and with it a serene kind of acceptance kick in. Her bottom lip twitched as she drew her shoulders up and stood tall before him. She watched, unable to turn away, as Mike thumbed it off safety and cocked it and raised it slowly to her face.
On some level she had almost expected this. It didn’t shock her, as it appeared to have stunned everyone else.
Mel nodded and swallowed so loud she was deaf to everything else. If this was how she was meant to go out then so be it, she thought on impulse. In her mind she could see Benji’s smiling face and it made her chest and stomach swell with a warm kind of joy.
I’ll wait for him on the other side, she vowed to herself. Her eyes zeroed in on the eye of the barrel looking comically large and ominous mere inches from the bridge of her nose. At least there we will be safe and together and happy. I’m ready.
Ravynlee
New member
Nothing.
A second stretched on like minutes as Mel braced herself for the final shot that would signal the end of her life, but Mike was not moving. Shifting focus down his arm to the silhouette of his face Mel couldn’t read his eyes but she could feel something radiating from him. She didn’t even have time to ascertain what it was before, with one easy gesture; Mike turned, lifted his arm again and squeezed the trigger. The explosion rang throughout the boxy room like a thunderclap as everyone else, including Mel, flinched. Ryu shrieked. He didn’t die. It took a few moments for everyone else to register that Mike hadn’t shot at him but had merely fired off a warning shot. His tactic had worked and the bound captive man began to sob as Mike lowered the gun and motioned for Mel to take it. With her heart beating like a ticking time bomb in her throat Mel scurried forward and snatched it back, quick to return in back to where it belonged. She was too shaken to believe what had just happened as Mike ordered her to ****** up the funnel as he took up the bleach. Together they worked to feed the plastic between his teeth as Ryu sobbingly thrashed about, declaring his innocence, as well as his inconceivable rage, as Mike half knelt with a knee on his lap and hurriedly wrenched the lid off. They were both breathless and ragged in anticipation and Mel couldn’t help but notice, just as she had that day he had mutilated Joe Hahn’s finger, that Mike appeared to be shocked in his cruelty as much as he was revelling in it. Clearly he had underestimated his own capabilities but Mel didn’t want to think just how far his rage, left to churn and grow since Jason’s murder, had manifest in Mike’s embattled psyche. She was incapable of thinking at that moment and was just a slave to the adrenalin coursing through her veins like liquid fire as the pungent stench of the liquid suddenly saturated the air.
“She would die for me,” Mike grit out through clenched teeth as he raised the bottle and began to pour. “She would take a ******* bullet for me, it’s more than I can say for you.”
It didn’t take long, only a handful of minutes, before Ryu’s throat and stomach began to react to the agent and foam started bubbling out from either side of the funnel. Though Mel’s hands were burning she backed off only when Ryu’s body began to convulse and spit and ****** foam began to spray upwards. Wrapping her fingers in her shirt Mel staggered backwards, entranced, horrified, yet unable to tear her eyes away. A few feet away from her Mike stood watching on with his face as it had been all along, cold, vacant, and carved from unforgiving stone. Tugging down the brim of his cap Mike sniffed and spat at Ryu’s dying corpse. Then with his other hand he reached out and clasped at Mel’s fingers. Mel balked and looked back at him. But Mike wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t really seeing anything.
“Burn it,” he uttered, as Tak finally established with a haunted tone of voice that his long-time friend and associate was finally dead. “Burn the whole thing to the ground. The club, all of it. I don’t want anyone else to set foot in this place ever again.”
Turning his head he looked at Mel and she tentatively did the same. Mike was smiling at her. The look he was giving her sent chills up the young woman’s spine. It was something so far outside the realm of reality that she couldn’t even put it into words let alone comprehend.
“Now. Let’s go get him,” he said ominously.
“Who?” asked some vague voice in the distance.
Mike turned his back on Ryu and maintaining his grip on Mel’s hand drew her along with him, on his way out towards the door.
“Who do you think?” came the guttural response, “Chester.”
Outside they were piling into their cars before the telltale glow of flames could be seen flickering in the windows, and were long gone before the first sirens wailed in their direction. By the time the fire department arrived on the scene there was nothing they could do to salvage the club and could only watch on, along with various news crews and spectators on the street, as Mike Shinoda’s one time club burned to the ground, taking the evidence of Ryu’s death along with it. In one night the powerhouse that Fort Minor had become was laid to waste, but that wasn’t to be the last casualty. In a few short hours the sun would be rising over New York City again and the blood of many more would make her city streets run red.
A few more updates and this will be DONE finally! Lord, can't wait! Been a **** of a ride, but we're not exactly done yet. Well, Ryu is of course, but it's inevitable some people aren't going to see this through to the end. Any ideas who you think will see another day? I already have the ending decided, now it's a matter of penning it, and mostly the dialog, that hopefully ties everything once and for all together. Bear in mind of course even in real life we never always get all the answers, but I'll endeavour to do my best. Anything anyone want to share before it's over start saying it now.
Again, this is not the end of course, but very soon.
And I know who finally wins, haha. Tease I know
More soon. Thanks guys.
A second stretched on like minutes as Mel braced herself for the final shot that would signal the end of her life, but Mike was not moving. Shifting focus down his arm to the silhouette of his face Mel couldn’t read his eyes but she could feel something radiating from him. She didn’t even have time to ascertain what it was before, with one easy gesture; Mike turned, lifted his arm again and squeezed the trigger. The explosion rang throughout the boxy room like a thunderclap as everyone else, including Mel, flinched. Ryu shrieked. He didn’t die. It took a few moments for everyone else to register that Mike hadn’t shot at him but had merely fired off a warning shot. His tactic had worked and the bound captive man began to sob as Mike lowered the gun and motioned for Mel to take it. With her heart beating like a ticking time bomb in her throat Mel scurried forward and snatched it back, quick to return in back to where it belonged. She was too shaken to believe what had just happened as Mike ordered her to ****** up the funnel as he took up the bleach. Together they worked to feed the plastic between his teeth as Ryu sobbingly thrashed about, declaring his innocence, as well as his inconceivable rage, as Mike half knelt with a knee on his lap and hurriedly wrenched the lid off. They were both breathless and ragged in anticipation and Mel couldn’t help but notice, just as she had that day he had mutilated Joe Hahn’s finger, that Mike appeared to be shocked in his cruelty as much as he was revelling in it. Clearly he had underestimated his own capabilities but Mel didn’t want to think just how far his rage, left to churn and grow since Jason’s murder, had manifest in Mike’s embattled psyche. She was incapable of thinking at that moment and was just a slave to the adrenalin coursing through her veins like liquid fire as the pungent stench of the liquid suddenly saturated the air.
“She would die for me,” Mike grit out through clenched teeth as he raised the bottle and began to pour. “She would take a ******* bullet for me, it’s more than I can say for you.”
It didn’t take long, only a handful of minutes, before Ryu’s throat and stomach began to react to the agent and foam started bubbling out from either side of the funnel. Though Mel’s hands were burning she backed off only when Ryu’s body began to convulse and spit and ****** foam began to spray upwards. Wrapping her fingers in her shirt Mel staggered backwards, entranced, horrified, yet unable to tear her eyes away. A few feet away from her Mike stood watching on with his face as it had been all along, cold, vacant, and carved from unforgiving stone. Tugging down the brim of his cap Mike sniffed and spat at Ryu’s dying corpse. Then with his other hand he reached out and clasped at Mel’s fingers. Mel balked and looked back at him. But Mike wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t really seeing anything.
“Burn it,” he uttered, as Tak finally established with a haunted tone of voice that his long-time friend and associate was finally dead. “Burn the whole thing to the ground. The club, all of it. I don’t want anyone else to set foot in this place ever again.”
Turning his head he looked at Mel and she tentatively did the same. Mike was smiling at her. The look he was giving her sent chills up the young woman’s spine. It was something so far outside the realm of reality that she couldn’t even put it into words let alone comprehend.
“Now. Let’s go get him,” he said ominously.
“Who?” asked some vague voice in the distance.
Mike turned his back on Ryu and maintaining his grip on Mel’s hand drew her along with him, on his way out towards the door.
“Who do you think?” came the guttural response, “Chester.”
Outside they were piling into their cars before the telltale glow of flames could be seen flickering in the windows, and were long gone before the first sirens wailed in their direction. By the time the fire department arrived on the scene there was nothing they could do to salvage the club and could only watch on, along with various news crews and spectators on the street, as Mike Shinoda’s one time club burned to the ground, taking the evidence of Ryu’s death along with it. In one night the powerhouse that Fort Minor had become was laid to waste, but that wasn’t to be the last casualty. In a few short hours the sun would be rising over New York City again and the blood of many more would make her city streets run red.
---
A few more updates and this will be DONE finally! Lord, can't wait! Been a **** of a ride, but we're not exactly done yet. Well, Ryu is of course, but it's inevitable some people aren't going to see this through to the end. Any ideas who you think will see another day? I already have the ending decided, now it's a matter of penning it, and mostly the dialog, that hopefully ties everything once and for all together. Bear in mind of course even in real life we never always get all the answers, but I'll endeavour to do my best. Anything anyone want to share before it's over start saying it now.
Again, this is not the end of course, but very soon.
And I know who finally wins, haha. Tease I know
More soon. Thanks guys.
Pheonix791989
New member
ooh yay an update. w00t u made me happy this morning. lol. very happy.
woodyloveslinkin
New member
Aww you love it when I make you blush
For someone who just wanted to get it off her chest and over and done with, and didn't edit it, it was pretty intense and pretty **** well good descriptive. I'll have to admit to that a hundred percent.
Yeah you go and go get that man who's made me drop the "C bomb" (I figured it was too explicit for LPF's content for me to write it in one word) several times at the computer screen. That's called intensity! Lol. Well, at least Mike's cleaning up New York's streets and taking people like Ryu off them. That makes me glad. It's going to be a pity when you end such a good story (same goes with DS as I ain't doing a sequal but feel free to create a spin-off yourself if you want).
:clap:
For someone who just wanted to get it off her chest and over and done with, and didn't edit it, it was pretty intense and pretty **** well good descriptive. I'll have to admit to that a hundred percent.
Yeah you go and go get that man who's made me drop the "C bomb" (I figured it was too explicit for LPF's content for me to write it in one word) several times at the computer screen. That's called intensity! Lol.
Well, at least Mike's cleaning up New York's streets and taking people like Ryu off them. That makes me glad. It's going to be a pity when you end such a good story (same goes with DS as I ain't doing a sequal but feel free to create a spin-off yourself if you want).:clap:
Ravynlee
New member
Thanks! And you're not doing a sequel now? What happened? Last time we spoke you were all keen for it...?
As for the response, am stoked, as always. Too lazy to edit. Watching Freddy Vs Jason instead Yeah it sucks but... it's just on TV. Needed a change from the everyday. And y'all wonder where I get the inspiration to pen this kind of stuff? hahaha
Thanks again. More later.
As for the response, am stoked, as always. Too lazy to edit. Watching Freddy Vs Jason instead
Yeah it sucks but... it's just on TV. Needed a change from the everyday. And y'all wonder where I get the inspiration to pen this kind of stuff? hahahaThanks again. More later.
crazy robster
New member
Wow I've only just had the chance to read the latest updates!! Intense as always! And yes indeed you and I sis don't exactly see eye to eye when it comes to drama and stuff but that's a whole different story having to do, as I said before, not with how the world actually is but how each of us has been brought up and what experiences we've had. Anyway, it hurt me to see people battering Ravyn like this that was painfully cruel! But I guess that's what happens in the underworld, right? I agree with Sarah on what she said about kicking Chester's sorry *** or something along these lines lol One thing's for sure, your talent is outstanding sis, you manage to make people "see" everything you describe happening in front of them as if it were real! Never questioned your skill my sweet ^.^ I just didn't think Mike would be so naive as to trust a woman over his pal of so many years and kill him without investigating this a bit more! Poor Ryu... Impatiently awaiting the final chapters!! <3
andrea
New member
Wow. Loved it. That's all I can say right now. Rav got beat up? Well she was kind of asking for it. Want to see what happens when Rob and Fib go inside. I do want to say that I was really digging Mike's dark side on that last update. Though I would like to say that at the end, I would like to see something happen to Rashell and the baby if Mike turns out to be the one that dies in the Chester and Mike sprawl at the end, haha. Hope that will spark something for you, .
I don't think I've every said this to you, but if you ever publish a creation of yours in the future you should do this stories (of course with the names changed...) because this is by far that best fan fic story that I've every read period. (Had to say that to you, because of what you say about mine, lol.)
As always keep looking out for an update...
.I don't think I've every said this to you, but if you ever publish a creation of yours in the future you should do this stories (of course with the names changed...) because this is by far that best fan fic story that I've every read period. (Had to say that to you, because of what you say about mine, lol.)
As always keep looking out for an update...
Ravynlee
New member
I think you pretty much just moved me to tears - and that's a **** of a statement.
Can't say how humbled and honoured you made me feel just now. And it means a lot of course coming from a fellow writer, and the appreciation is as you know mutual.
Just... thanks. Doesn't seem like enough, but it's all I can come back with. To me I haven't been as impressed with this as I would have liked, so getting it published is almost definately not about to happen, names changed or not. At least having ownership rights always gives me that option maybe later down the track, but in my current frame of mind and in it's current state this is as far as it's going to get - I'm painfully picky when it comes to writing as most of you should know by now and I don't see any of this worthy just yet, it would need such a severe overhaul really it's sort of not worth my time. May as well pen it fresh. At least I have a loyal readership here, I have made a few literary friends to bounce ideas off and learn from, so I guess that's enough for me.
As for you and the baby at the end, I don't want to give too much away, but I already have you two sorted. And a handful of others. Maybe another 2 or so characters won't make it but the majority will. As for the end... I wish I could pen it. Right now as it stands I'm... feeling a bit underwhelmed at the moment. Hoping it comes back to me soon so we can get it over and done with and move on to bigger and better things - hopefully
Between you and me I really enjoy writing the bad characters. I like Bad Mike better than Good Mike, he has this... 'essence' about him that makes me believe he could be as imposing as he is in real life, I like it. And relieved you did too. Was worried actually people like you and sis (Jojo) who are more sentimental types would be seeing this swing towards darkness (and why wouldn't it be, look at where we have come to in terms of plot!) as a bit too much and might... switch off. Always run the risk anyway in being it's not, and not meant to be, a feel good comedy. But happy you liked. Weight off my proverbial shoulders. Thanks for that. Makes me fell better about letting Bad Boy Mikey out of his cage one last time now haha
Thanks again. *hugs*
Can't say how humbled and honoured you made me feel just now. And it means a lot of course coming from a fellow writer, and the appreciation is as you know mutual.
Just... thanks. Doesn't seem like enough, but it's all I can come back with. To me I haven't been as impressed with this as I would have liked, so getting it published is almost definately not about to happen, names changed or not. At least having ownership rights always gives me that option maybe later down the track, but in my current frame of mind and in it's current state this is as far as it's going to get - I'm painfully picky when it comes to writing as most of you should know by now and I don't see any of this worthy just yet, it would need such a severe overhaul really it's sort of not worth my time. May as well pen it fresh. At least I have a loyal readership here, I have made a few literary friends to bounce ideas off and learn from, so I guess that's enough for me.
As for you and the baby at the end, I don't want to give too much away, but I already have you two sorted. And a handful of others. Maybe another 2 or so characters won't make it but the majority will. As for the end... I wish I could pen it. Right now as it stands I'm... feeling a bit underwhelmed at the moment. Hoping it comes back to me soon so we can get it over and done with and move on to bigger and better things - hopefully
Between you and me I really enjoy writing the bad characters. I like Bad Mike better than Good Mike, he has this... 'essence' about him that makes me believe he could be as imposing as he is in real life, I like it. And relieved you did too. Was worried actually people like you and sis (Jojo) who are more sentimental types would be seeing this swing towards darkness (and why wouldn't it be, look at where we have come to in terms of plot!) as a bit too much and might... switch off. Always run the risk anyway in being it's not, and not meant to be, a feel good comedy. But happy you liked. Weight off my proverbial shoulders. Thanks for that. Makes me fell better about letting Bad Boy Mikey out of his cage one last time now
hahaThanks again. *hugs*
andrea
New member
Of course. I like to bad side of Mike, lol. This type of plot is my feel good spot, so to say. Goes hand in hand with my favorite show, haha. It has a good balance of good and bad and the bad isn't always gory (which I don't like a lot of), if you know what I'm saying. And I'm glad to let you know that.Between you and me I really enjoy writing the bad characters. I like Bad Mike better than Good Mike, he has this... 'essence' about him that makes me believe he could be as imposing as he is in real life, I like it. And relieved you did too. Was worried actually people like you and sis (Jojo) who are more sentimental types would be seeing this swing towards darkness (and why wouldn't it be, look at where we have come to in terms of plot!) as a bit too much and might... switch off. Always run the risk anyway in being it's not, and not meant to be, a feel good comedy. But happy you liked. Weight off my proverbial shoulders. Thanks for that. Makes me fell better about letting Bad Boy Mikey out of his cage one last time now
Ravynlee
New member
awesome! haha
Glad you felt... something. I'd be quite horrified if you said you 'enjoyed' it hahaha
It served it's purpose for the story I guess.
Happy you caught up. Thanks!
I know I promised more but seriously have... lost enthusiasm lately. Have been writing another project for last few weeks (two weeks?) on a whole different idea so that's been my main distraction. When I get... um... inspired will endeavour to finish it. I know there's no pressure but I kind of feel bad to leave everyone hanging like this!
Glad you felt... something. I'd be quite horrified if you said you 'enjoyed' it
hahahaIt served it's purpose for the story I guess.
Happy you caught up. Thanks!
I know I promised more but seriously have... lost enthusiasm lately. Have been writing another project for last few weeks (two weeks?) on a whole different idea so that's been my main distraction. When I get... um... inspired will endeavour to finish it. I know there's no pressure but I kind of feel bad to leave everyone hanging like this!
woodyloveslinkin
New member
**** I thought it was another update and you somehow had a sudden change of heart and wrote another chapter...*sighs* I guess I'll be sitting on this chair for a while now.
Ravynlee
New member
Hi guys - I know it's been a while, but I've tried something... to pick this up again!
As we should all know by now am trying to get back into that headspace, am hoping it makes sense and ties in, I haven't read it all but we'll see where this leads... if anyone's listening
So, without further ado... here we go!
***
“So what numbers are we talking here?”
“Fifty-fifty.”
“Seventy-thirty-”
“What? No I- I need that-”
“No, what you need to do is start paying me back the money you owe.”
“Come on man- you know me, you know I’m good for it.”
David Draiman chuckled. It was probably meant to be humorous but given the stern look carved on his face, despite the goading smile, the sound was downright cynical. Setting his drink down Dave reached out and slung an arm over the other man’s shoulder. He was taller but thin, with long scraggily dark hair and a disposition that screamed nervousness. Beneath David’s arm his shoulders tensed expectantly, causing another small ripple of laughter from the bald-headed man. He tried his best to laugh along too but was lost beneath the chaos of conversation and loud angry music that choked the surrounding air.
The Pit predictably was packed to capacity and it was standing room only inside the brooding little night club. Outside on the kerb above an impatient stream of people were lingering outside all dressed in their shiniest leather, latex, and obligatory black garb waiting to get in. A live band was playing up on the cramped little stage, some local act with a hard and heavy sound, with the obligatory black clothes, wild hair, painted faces and angst-ridden attitude that had the audience hooting out for more. For a moment David was distracted, watching some scantily clad vixen stride past and made eye contact with an alluring smile. He smirked as he reached out and slapped her *** taut beneath the skin-tight red latex mini that almost looked to be painted on. With a small yowl and a giggle she cast her eyes over her shoulder at him with a wink as she wove her way through the crowd before being swallowed up from view. With a s****** he picked up his drink again and ran a hand over his cleanly shaven head, looking out at nothing a moment as the man in front of him fought desperately to regain his attentions.
“Look, I know I owe you some money-”
“Some?” David sighed into his glass. His brows rose in feigned surprise. “You owe me more than that. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. If Fox had her way you’d be a missing man right about now. Relax. I’m not about to. It doesn’t make good business to kill off everyone that owes you, at least, not yet. I’m a business man. This is what I do. Foxxy, what can I say, she’s… temperamental. You know her. You know she has a short fuse. I only have a short fuse when someone provokes me – Now you’re not going to **** me off, are you? I hope not. Truth is, between you and me, I have bigger **** on my plate right now than you, little man, you’re the least of my problems…”
The young man looked at him silently. His mouth hung open, poised to speak. His eyes were screaming desperation no matter how hard he was trying to stand there looking confident. With his dark unkempt hair hanging down over his eyes and his loose faded casuals he stood out as it was as he watched his burly counterpart the way a fly would wandering too close to a spider’s web.
David continued smirking at him around the rim of his glass as the young man cleared his throat and bowed close to speak to him again.
“It’s just, business has been tight.”
“Tell me about it,” Dave agreed without looking at him.
“But with rising costs and everything-”
“We had an agreement. What happened to the next big blockbuster you were producing? What, the market finally tapped on themes of the undead?”
“No. I mean, I know but- things have been hard the last few months. First my girlfriend left me. She got this job up town-”
“Boo-******* hoo, get over it.”
“No, well I- I haven’t been able to write, and-”
“Pete,” David addressed, sliding his palm around the back of the younger man’s neck firmly, “I don’t care, alright. You run a ******* backdoor movie studio. How hard can it be? Without me you’d be out on the street with your hand held camera making real life zombie movies with bums and two bit whores, not in that fine little establishment you have thanks to me.”
“I know, and I really appreciate it, all your help, I do, I just-”
“Then start showing it,” Dave urged tugging his companion down closer to glare into his eyes. “All right? Look, I’m on your side, Pete, I am. Who was the one that squared your debts last quarter? When the bank was going to foreclose on your studio, who stepped in and saved it? Me. Who was the one that paid for the repairs when it got broken into?”
“That was Mike’s crew,” Pete spat out nervously, unable to summon his eyes up from the floor that was lost beneath the shadows and red lights that swirled about erratically. “I told you. His friends came in and started breaking stuff, saying about how they wanted to run you and Foxxy out of town-”
“I know,” David pouted in a condescending way.
“But I wouldn’t let them. I mean, at first I paid them off because I thought they’d stay away but then they kept coming back and- come on, David, you know how hard it’s been lately. You know that I can’t-”
“Alright, alright, listen,” David said, jerking him by the neck a fraction to quieten him. “I’ll extend the loan, but there’s going to be conditions. And there will be interest. If you don’t meet deadline this time you know I won’t be held accountable for what happens, understand?”
Pete nodded as much as he was able looking terrified with Dave’s hand around the back of his neck like one false move could, and probably in all likelihood, would cost him his life. He smiled back deftly but it came off like a facial spasm. Tugging him again David shook a grunt of agreement from him. Then he patted his scalp and let go allowing Pete to stand upright again. Though he stood taller by a few solid inches Pete’s persona didn’t reflect it. Still sipping at his drink contentedly David continued to smile as he finally returned his attentions to the band that had just ended another song. The crowd cheered uproariously, the noise amplified by the cramped walls and low ceilings. Nodding his head in appreciation the smaller stocky man sighed before he drew closer to a skittish Pete again.
“One thing; if Fox gets wind of this the deal’s off, you hear me?”
“I thought you two were partners?” Pete wondered.
David’s eyes slid across at him dangerously. Pete immediately fell silent. Though the music continued to thunder all around them it seemed for a moment that they were two men alone stranded in some desolate wasteland. Sweeping the hair from his eyes Pete looked around, he looked anywhere, anywhere so he didn’t have to confront the glare David was affording him. The smile that remained like a permanent fixture over the gleaming arcs of metal that protruded from beneath his bottom lip seemed unfathomably colder accompanied by such a look. Sensing he had crossed some line Pete apologised but was drowned out for the most part by the grinding music. David drained the last mouthful of his drink and held it as he thought long and hard on his response. Then he swallowed it and exhaled loudly.
“Women,” he muttered, as if that one word made everything infinitely clearer. It didn’t, but Pete smiled tentatively anyway.
“Don’t worry, I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”
Pete blinked back silently. He didn’t say anything, though it was clear by the look on his face that the insult had been delivered just as it had meant to. He lowered his eyes with a defeated pout, the words he wanted to say bubbling up at the back of his throat. Just then someone could be heard calling out, made louder of course by a brief lull in the music.
“Dave-” another man beckoned. He burst through the crowd and snatched David by the shoulder. The two men bowed close, exchanging words before David looked up and frowned at his younger counterpart.
“His daughter?” he uttered, his frown darkening incredulously.
“That’s what she said,” the man answered.
Glimpsing down at his empty glass David appeared to consider his options a moment before he looked up at Pete.
Pete frowned, his young face still marred with worry and trepidation.
“What is it?” he asked. He only appeared to ask out of obligation rather than genuine concern as he stepped back a fraction, seemingly scared this new development would somehow affect him too. But David wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was looking around the room with his eyes narrowed, his mind ticking over. He shook his head and dismissed Pete’s gaze with his hand. Though Pete’s mouth looked poised to speak again the look on David’s face silenced it as he stood running a hand back and forth across his bald scalp.
“****!” he snapped. “Why now? What else can go *******-!”
“That’s not all,” the deliverer tentatively said.
David glared at him, his frown venomous as he watched the man bow close again and mutter something in his ear. Though Pete was arguably close he wasn’t able to hear what transpired over the grating music. Feeling physically sick and heavy at having found himself in such a predicament again, in this place, under these circumstances, and begging for mercy and aid again from a man that would have killed him for sport, Pete found himself slipping back into the crowd and hopefully into anonymity as the look on Fox’s right-hand man only progressively darkened.
Then, with a vicious swing and a sound David thrust his glass into the floor. Glass exploded. Only those closest to him saw it but few reacted – in truth, in this place, no one was game to. The noise was swallowed up by the movement, by the energy, by the raw atmosphere of the angry little club crowded to capacity. But Pete stood frozen to the spot, a tall reed at the mercy of the elements swaying all around him, watching as Dave scrunched his face up into a detestable mask and began shoving his way through the crowd in the opposite direction. No one stopped him, least of all the man that had come to deliver the news. He glimpsed at Pete and the look he was given was enough to send an ominous chill up the younger man’s spine. No longer able to see David through the crowd, and no longer relishing in the taste of the alcohol as he poised his glass before his lips, Pete reluctantly sat his drink aside and quickly made his way out of the club as fast as his legs could carry him. To **** with his money, he thought, he would come back if he had to, no he wouldn’t, this was a bad idea for the billionth time, knowing regardless that even if he could somehow make it on his own without David’s help or without the aid of Jos that one way or another David and the entire Greyfoxx Bennington posse would come calling anyway to exact their pound of flesh and Pete already knew before this deal that he was way in over his head – but there simply was no going back from it. He was like a gambler with an addiction looking for that last big score, the one lucky win that would clear his debts – as hard as he had tried no one had been willing to bank on him, and he had tried to sell his films and his scripts and his dreams to anyone who would share them, but none would listen. In his desperation he had made one dumb decision and he well knew one day it would cost him, but even if he was alone, destitute, bordering on bankrupt and permanently in some form of debt, he still had his ideals. Pete’s dreams lived on. In the back of his mind he could rationalise his need to keep coming back here as much as he could his reasons for leaving. It was survival, he thought, the survival instinct, he like millions of others in this city that never slept wanted a slice of that big old apple to himself and to carve a niche for himself in bright lights, he wanted to be something better, he wanted to leave something worthwhile behind, so if he had to suffer in order to realise his legacy then he was prepared to do it – but he didn’t want to face the brutality of payback tonight nor any night if he could at all help it. That’s why when he broke through the haggard faces of those waiting to get in to The Pit he kept moving, ascending the sidewalk and hurriedly crossing the street. With his shoulders pitched and his chin sunk low, his pace picked up, leaving the music and the noise and the revelry of **** in New York behind him. That’s when he passed the parked car and saw, out of the corner of his eye, a strange amorphus shape laying on the back seat. Pete stopped, frowned closer to the window, and peered inside.
“Holy ****,” he gasped aloud, his breath causing a flash of condensation against the glass. With his hand held to his brow he stooped close enough for the tip of his nose to smear away the mist. The tiniest bloom of red could be seen against the material beneath which Pete was almost certain lay the body of a person. He was almost certain they weren’t asleep.”
“Holy ****,” he said again. With knees weak he stood up, looked around, and scoured the street for signs that anyone had noticed. That was when he saw movement in the alley just to the side of the club. With his heart hammering in his chest the young film entrepreneur took a step back and hesitated before casting another glimpse inside the car’s drawn window. Seeing a payphone on the corner and feeling change in his pocket Pete dashed towards it, his gaze fixed on the two fingers stealthily making their way up the fire escape several floors up the building. With his heart racing and his mind going a mile a minute he jabbed a few buttons as he gripped the receiver to his ear, practically able to see his heart as it fought to make its way outside of his chest. After a few rings a voice responded in professional curtness in his ear.
“Hello? Police!” he barked, briefly averting his eyes towards the car. When he looked back to the fire escape the two men had gone, but Pete remained staring into the dark scanning for movement. As scared and elated and terrified as he was in those few moments still the young man began to smile feeling his body shaking all over at the realisation of what had happened this night and the way the fates had intervened to make him a part of it. Relaying the car and make and model and number plate as best he could in the shadows and fighting hard to keep himself as inconspicuous as possible as the club patrons continued to mill across the street, Pete’s smile grew to a grin as he let his imagination wander and relished with excitement at a new plot that he was suddenly developing.
“I think I just saw two guys breaking into this place above the club,” he said.
He had no idea that the cavalry was already well on it’s way. He was still standing there several moments later when the first sirens sounded and the greatest turning point of the young film makers career was about to happen virtually in front of his very eyes.
As we should all know by now am trying to get back into that headspace, am hoping it makes sense and ties in, I haven't read it all but we'll see where this leads... if anyone's listening
So, without further ado... here we go!
***
“So what numbers are we talking here?”
“Fifty-fifty.”
“Seventy-thirty-”
“What? No I- I need that-”
“No, what you need to do is start paying me back the money you owe.”
“Come on man- you know me, you know I’m good for it.”
David Draiman chuckled. It was probably meant to be humorous but given the stern look carved on his face, despite the goading smile, the sound was downright cynical. Setting his drink down Dave reached out and slung an arm over the other man’s shoulder. He was taller but thin, with long scraggily dark hair and a disposition that screamed nervousness. Beneath David’s arm his shoulders tensed expectantly, causing another small ripple of laughter from the bald-headed man. He tried his best to laugh along too but was lost beneath the chaos of conversation and loud angry music that choked the surrounding air.
The Pit predictably was packed to capacity and it was standing room only inside the brooding little night club. Outside on the kerb above an impatient stream of people were lingering outside all dressed in their shiniest leather, latex, and obligatory black garb waiting to get in. A live band was playing up on the cramped little stage, some local act with a hard and heavy sound, with the obligatory black clothes, wild hair, painted faces and angst-ridden attitude that had the audience hooting out for more. For a moment David was distracted, watching some scantily clad vixen stride past and made eye contact with an alluring smile. He smirked as he reached out and slapped her *** taut beneath the skin-tight red latex mini that almost looked to be painted on. With a small yowl and a giggle she cast her eyes over her shoulder at him with a wink as she wove her way through the crowd before being swallowed up from view. With a s****** he picked up his drink again and ran a hand over his cleanly shaven head, looking out at nothing a moment as the man in front of him fought desperately to regain his attentions.
“Look, I know I owe you some money-”
“Some?” David sighed into his glass. His brows rose in feigned surprise. “You owe me more than that. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. If Fox had her way you’d be a missing man right about now. Relax. I’m not about to. It doesn’t make good business to kill off everyone that owes you, at least, not yet. I’m a business man. This is what I do. Foxxy, what can I say, she’s… temperamental. You know her. You know she has a short fuse. I only have a short fuse when someone provokes me – Now you’re not going to **** me off, are you? I hope not. Truth is, between you and me, I have bigger **** on my plate right now than you, little man, you’re the least of my problems…”
The young man looked at him silently. His mouth hung open, poised to speak. His eyes were screaming desperation no matter how hard he was trying to stand there looking confident. With his dark unkempt hair hanging down over his eyes and his loose faded casuals he stood out as it was as he watched his burly counterpart the way a fly would wandering too close to a spider’s web.
David continued smirking at him around the rim of his glass as the young man cleared his throat and bowed close to speak to him again.
“It’s just, business has been tight.”
“Tell me about it,” Dave agreed without looking at him.
“But with rising costs and everything-”
“We had an agreement. What happened to the next big blockbuster you were producing? What, the market finally tapped on themes of the undead?”
“No. I mean, I know but- things have been hard the last few months. First my girlfriend left me. She got this job up town-”
“Boo-******* hoo, get over it.”
“No, well I- I haven’t been able to write, and-”
“Pete,” David addressed, sliding his palm around the back of the younger man’s neck firmly, “I don’t care, alright. You run a ******* backdoor movie studio. How hard can it be? Without me you’d be out on the street with your hand held camera making real life zombie movies with bums and two bit whores, not in that fine little establishment you have thanks to me.”
“I know, and I really appreciate it, all your help, I do, I just-”
“Then start showing it,” Dave urged tugging his companion down closer to glare into his eyes. “All right? Look, I’m on your side, Pete, I am. Who was the one that squared your debts last quarter? When the bank was going to foreclose on your studio, who stepped in and saved it? Me. Who was the one that paid for the repairs when it got broken into?”
“That was Mike’s crew,” Pete spat out nervously, unable to summon his eyes up from the floor that was lost beneath the shadows and red lights that swirled about erratically. “I told you. His friends came in and started breaking stuff, saying about how they wanted to run you and Foxxy out of town-”
“I know,” David pouted in a condescending way.
“But I wouldn’t let them. I mean, at first I paid them off because I thought they’d stay away but then they kept coming back and- come on, David, you know how hard it’s been lately. You know that I can’t-”
“Alright, alright, listen,” David said, jerking him by the neck a fraction to quieten him. “I’ll extend the loan, but there’s going to be conditions. And there will be interest. If you don’t meet deadline this time you know I won’t be held accountable for what happens, understand?”
Pete nodded as much as he was able looking terrified with Dave’s hand around the back of his neck like one false move could, and probably in all likelihood, would cost him his life. He smiled back deftly but it came off like a facial spasm. Tugging him again David shook a grunt of agreement from him. Then he patted his scalp and let go allowing Pete to stand upright again. Though he stood taller by a few solid inches Pete’s persona didn’t reflect it. Still sipping at his drink contentedly David continued to smile as he finally returned his attentions to the band that had just ended another song. The crowd cheered uproariously, the noise amplified by the cramped walls and low ceilings. Nodding his head in appreciation the smaller stocky man sighed before he drew closer to a skittish Pete again.
“One thing; if Fox gets wind of this the deal’s off, you hear me?”
“I thought you two were partners?” Pete wondered.
David’s eyes slid across at him dangerously. Pete immediately fell silent. Though the music continued to thunder all around them it seemed for a moment that they were two men alone stranded in some desolate wasteland. Sweeping the hair from his eyes Pete looked around, he looked anywhere, anywhere so he didn’t have to confront the glare David was affording him. The smile that remained like a permanent fixture over the gleaming arcs of metal that protruded from beneath his bottom lip seemed unfathomably colder accompanied by such a look. Sensing he had crossed some line Pete apologised but was drowned out for the most part by the grinding music. David drained the last mouthful of his drink and held it as he thought long and hard on his response. Then he swallowed it and exhaled loudly.
“Women,” he muttered, as if that one word made everything infinitely clearer. It didn’t, but Pete smiled tentatively anyway.
“Don’t worry, I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”
Pete blinked back silently. He didn’t say anything, though it was clear by the look on his face that the insult had been delivered just as it had meant to. He lowered his eyes with a defeated pout, the words he wanted to say bubbling up at the back of his throat. Just then someone could be heard calling out, made louder of course by a brief lull in the music.
“Dave-” another man beckoned. He burst through the crowd and snatched David by the shoulder. The two men bowed close, exchanging words before David looked up and frowned at his younger counterpart.
“His daughter?” he uttered, his frown darkening incredulously.
“That’s what she said,” the man answered.
Glimpsing down at his empty glass David appeared to consider his options a moment before he looked up at Pete.
Pete frowned, his young face still marred with worry and trepidation.
“What is it?” he asked. He only appeared to ask out of obligation rather than genuine concern as he stepped back a fraction, seemingly scared this new development would somehow affect him too. But David wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was looking around the room with his eyes narrowed, his mind ticking over. He shook his head and dismissed Pete’s gaze with his hand. Though Pete’s mouth looked poised to speak again the look on David’s face silenced it as he stood running a hand back and forth across his bald scalp.
“****!” he snapped. “Why now? What else can go *******-!”
“That’s not all,” the deliverer tentatively said.
David glared at him, his frown venomous as he watched the man bow close again and mutter something in his ear. Though Pete was arguably close he wasn’t able to hear what transpired over the grating music. Feeling physically sick and heavy at having found himself in such a predicament again, in this place, under these circumstances, and begging for mercy and aid again from a man that would have killed him for sport, Pete found himself slipping back into the crowd and hopefully into anonymity as the look on Fox’s right-hand man only progressively darkened.
Then, with a vicious swing and a sound David thrust his glass into the floor. Glass exploded. Only those closest to him saw it but few reacted – in truth, in this place, no one was game to. The noise was swallowed up by the movement, by the energy, by the raw atmosphere of the angry little club crowded to capacity. But Pete stood frozen to the spot, a tall reed at the mercy of the elements swaying all around him, watching as Dave scrunched his face up into a detestable mask and began shoving his way through the crowd in the opposite direction. No one stopped him, least of all the man that had come to deliver the news. He glimpsed at Pete and the look he was given was enough to send an ominous chill up the younger man’s spine. No longer able to see David through the crowd, and no longer relishing in the taste of the alcohol as he poised his glass before his lips, Pete reluctantly sat his drink aside and quickly made his way out of the club as fast as his legs could carry him. To **** with his money, he thought, he would come back if he had to, no he wouldn’t, this was a bad idea for the billionth time, knowing regardless that even if he could somehow make it on his own without David’s help or without the aid of Jos that one way or another David and the entire Greyfoxx Bennington posse would come calling anyway to exact their pound of flesh and Pete already knew before this deal that he was way in over his head – but there simply was no going back from it. He was like a gambler with an addiction looking for that last big score, the one lucky win that would clear his debts – as hard as he had tried no one had been willing to bank on him, and he had tried to sell his films and his scripts and his dreams to anyone who would share them, but none would listen. In his desperation he had made one dumb decision and he well knew one day it would cost him, but even if he was alone, destitute, bordering on bankrupt and permanently in some form of debt, he still had his ideals. Pete’s dreams lived on. In the back of his mind he could rationalise his need to keep coming back here as much as he could his reasons for leaving. It was survival, he thought, the survival instinct, he like millions of others in this city that never slept wanted a slice of that big old apple to himself and to carve a niche for himself in bright lights, he wanted to be something better, he wanted to leave something worthwhile behind, so if he had to suffer in order to realise his legacy then he was prepared to do it – but he didn’t want to face the brutality of payback tonight nor any night if he could at all help it. That’s why when he broke through the haggard faces of those waiting to get in to The Pit he kept moving, ascending the sidewalk and hurriedly crossing the street. With his shoulders pitched and his chin sunk low, his pace picked up, leaving the music and the noise and the revelry of **** in New York behind him. That’s when he passed the parked car and saw, out of the corner of his eye, a strange amorphus shape laying on the back seat. Pete stopped, frowned closer to the window, and peered inside.
“Holy ****,” he gasped aloud, his breath causing a flash of condensation against the glass. With his hand held to his brow he stooped close enough for the tip of his nose to smear away the mist. The tiniest bloom of red could be seen against the material beneath which Pete was almost certain lay the body of a person. He was almost certain they weren’t asleep.”
“Holy ****,” he said again. With knees weak he stood up, looked around, and scoured the street for signs that anyone had noticed. That was when he saw movement in the alley just to the side of the club. With his heart hammering in his chest the young film entrepreneur took a step back and hesitated before casting another glimpse inside the car’s drawn window. Seeing a payphone on the corner and feeling change in his pocket Pete dashed towards it, his gaze fixed on the two fingers stealthily making their way up the fire escape several floors up the building. With his heart racing and his mind going a mile a minute he jabbed a few buttons as he gripped the receiver to his ear, practically able to see his heart as it fought to make its way outside of his chest. After a few rings a voice responded in professional curtness in his ear.
“Hello? Police!” he barked, briefly averting his eyes towards the car. When he looked back to the fire escape the two men had gone, but Pete remained staring into the dark scanning for movement. As scared and elated and terrified as he was in those few moments still the young man began to smile feeling his body shaking all over at the realisation of what had happened this night and the way the fates had intervened to make him a part of it. Relaying the car and make and model and number plate as best he could in the shadows and fighting hard to keep himself as inconspicuous as possible as the club patrons continued to mill across the street, Pete’s smile grew to a grin as he let his imagination wander and relished with excitement at a new plot that he was suddenly developing.
“I think I just saw two guys breaking into this place above the club,” he said.
He had no idea that the cavalry was already well on it’s way. He was still standing there several moments later when the first sirens sounded and the greatest turning point of the young film makers career was about to happen virtually in front of his very eyes.
crazy robster
New member
Sis, just the fact you decided to continue this is awesome in itself! Post more? I finished reading this and I was like "no more pages? what? why? " But al's good, I guess since you decided to start again we will have more updates soon! YAY! Keep it up!
" But al's good, I guess since you decided to start again we will have more updates soon! YAY! Keep it up!