Post by A on Jan 13, 2008 17:13:28 GMT -5
Date:January 13th 2008
Location: 1488 Savannah Way/Rockland Heights Los Angeles, CA
Time: 4:12 A.M.
Location: 1488 Savannah Way/Rockland Heights Los Angeles, CA
Time: 4:12 A.M.
A slow creek of the door was all he could hear when he stepped into the room. His attire for the evening consisted of what he would usually wear when asked to do “jobs” like this. All black from head to toe. Black mask to cover his face from anyone identifying him in case something did in fact go wrong on this night. How many had he done over the years? How many lives snuffed out of existence with the simple pull of his finger? How much information had he unknowingly suppressed by staying in this line of work for as many years as he had?
Countless.
He took a few steps towards the bed where the two “marks” were laying fast asleep, unaware of what was in store for them tonight. They seemed so peaceful while he stood there, the weapon of choice for the job being pulled from his jacket pocket. His opposite hand reached into the other pocket of his jacket, removing the silencer from it and slowly started to attach the device to keep this ordeal as quiet and painless as possible. Blindly screwing the silencer onto the pistol held in his hand, his eyes lazily still kept a watch on the targets in front of him. He was a mercenary. He’d take care of or silence anyone who needed either for whatever price. It made no difference to him. He didn’t even need to know anything about the people he was constantly sent to remove from the world of the living. A name and address, and anyone who could afford his services could get them. Simple and plain.
Finally he was prepared to take out the two targets in front of him. He was as calm and collected as possible as he made his way up closer to the end of the bed they lay motionless in. His arm rose, aiming the gun directly towards the head of the man lying fast asleep in the bed. He paused for a few moments, as his curiosity had gotten the best of him for the first time in all of the years he had been what they call a mercenary or contract killer. Never before but this job somehow had forced him to conjure up questions concerning just why his “employer” wished to see this man silenced and killed as soon as possible. He let out a long breath as the gun remained steady and prepared to send the man on his way to the “other side”, as he thought the situation over in his mind. The man’s name and occupation replayed through his brain over and over as he stood there watching, possibly trying to figure out this method of madness he had once again taken upon himself to become involved in.
Phillip Krause. Age 47. Weight 185 lbs. Height 5’9.District Attorney and former police officer for the police force of Los Angeles, California. Father of one son and one step daughter. Countless numbers of the city and states top and most dangerous criminals put away by his hands time and time again. Wife Summer Krause. Maiden name, Summer Ford. Age 45. Weight 138 lbs. Height 5’7. Occupation, 5th grade School Teacher. No known siblings or children.
It all made no sense to him. Though it never was supposed to make sense to him. He was only to make the hit and do the job. Then clean up to ensure there was nothing left behind, ever, to implicate neither him nor those who sought his “help” when problems arose. He knew that this particular job was mostly focused on the District Attorney who lay in front of him a few feet away. That was a given. The school teacher? She was just a bonus really. So that the chances of any information coming out about all of this stayed as low as possible. What had this man done to warrant his death though?
Over the years he had worked for numerous amounts of people as far as employers went. Organized crime families, drug kingpins, lawyers, policemen, FBI agents to every day 9 to 5 every day people and everything in between. Yet this one was from someone whom neither was a member nor affiliated with either of those categories. He found that to be strange. The man could surely afford the service, which was evidenced by the advance payment he had received before even making the journey to Los Angeles. But he seemed to not even have a rhyme or reason FOR this job to take place. Or at least he didn’t see one himself. But that was his job. To get it done, take his payment and remain silent. And that was just what he would do. What he always did.
Deciding to forget the constant thoughts clouding his judgment, the mysterious man raised the weapon in his hand once again, this time aiming directly for the center of the man’s forehead. Without hesitation his index finger began a rapid pulling motion, the shots quickly exiting the extended barrel as three bullets were sent into the man’s skull. Not waiting for any type of indication that the wife would or not be awakening by the light noises in their bedroom, he turned slightly, his hand moving just enough to now have the barrel aimed at her head now. Three more shots escape the pistol in his hand, embedding the bullets into her skull just as he had to her husband seconds ago.
Instantly his hand shifts again, aiming for her chest area, planting one more bullet into her heart. The entire scene remained as silent as could be. The only noise that could be heard the entire time was the barely audible noise of the device attached to the end of the black pistol doing just what it was created to do. Lowering the weapon, he then made his way to the side of the bed closest to the now deceased District Attorney Phillip Krause. Quickly returning the pistol to his jacket pocket, then retrieving a knife from the inside pocket of his jacket. Taking the 6 inch blade into his hand, his hand extended for the head of Mr. Krause, the blood leaking from his forehead down onto the white sheets and the pillow beneath him. His hand quickly found it’s way to the man’s mouth, opening it as much as he could as he seemed to be searching for something or another. A few seconds pass, and as his hand barely emerge from the man’s mouth, his finger tips remained almost still inside, pulling out what he wanted as far as he possibly could.
Mr. Krause’s tongue now was partially in his hands. He had completed the first part of the job he was sent to do tonight, and now it was time to finish it off and send the true message behind all of this. Silence. He still had another job to do later on tonight for the same employer, so he knew he’d have to make haste as well as ensure that no one would find the assassinated couple before it was time for the second job to take place. Still holding the man’s tongue in his hand as firmly as he could, his opposite hand slowly made it’s way toward it with the blade in hand and then…
Fade To Black…
Countless.
He took a few steps towards the bed where the two “marks” were laying fast asleep, unaware of what was in store for them tonight. They seemed so peaceful while he stood there, the weapon of choice for the job being pulled from his jacket pocket. His opposite hand reached into the other pocket of his jacket, removing the silencer from it and slowly started to attach the device to keep this ordeal as quiet and painless as possible. Blindly screwing the silencer onto the pistol held in his hand, his eyes lazily still kept a watch on the targets in front of him. He was a mercenary. He’d take care of or silence anyone who needed either for whatever price. It made no difference to him. He didn’t even need to know anything about the people he was constantly sent to remove from the world of the living. A name and address, and anyone who could afford his services could get them. Simple and plain.
Finally he was prepared to take out the two targets in front of him. He was as calm and collected as possible as he made his way up closer to the end of the bed they lay motionless in. His arm rose, aiming the gun directly towards the head of the man lying fast asleep in the bed. He paused for a few moments, as his curiosity had gotten the best of him for the first time in all of the years he had been what they call a mercenary or contract killer. Never before but this job somehow had forced him to conjure up questions concerning just why his “employer” wished to see this man silenced and killed as soon as possible. He let out a long breath as the gun remained steady and prepared to send the man on his way to the “other side”, as he thought the situation over in his mind. The man’s name and occupation replayed through his brain over and over as he stood there watching, possibly trying to figure out this method of madness he had once again taken upon himself to become involved in.
Phillip Krause. Age 47. Weight 185 lbs. Height 5’9.District Attorney and former police officer for the police force of Los Angeles, California. Father of one son and one step daughter. Countless numbers of the city and states top and most dangerous criminals put away by his hands time and time again. Wife Summer Krause. Maiden name, Summer Ford. Age 45. Weight 138 lbs. Height 5’7. Occupation, 5th grade School Teacher. No known siblings or children.
It all made no sense to him. Though it never was supposed to make sense to him. He was only to make the hit and do the job. Then clean up to ensure there was nothing left behind, ever, to implicate neither him nor those who sought his “help” when problems arose. He knew that this particular job was mostly focused on the District Attorney who lay in front of him a few feet away. That was a given. The school teacher? She was just a bonus really. So that the chances of any information coming out about all of this stayed as low as possible. What had this man done to warrant his death though?
Over the years he had worked for numerous amounts of people as far as employers went. Organized crime families, drug kingpins, lawyers, policemen, FBI agents to every day 9 to 5 every day people and everything in between. Yet this one was from someone whom neither was a member nor affiliated with either of those categories. He found that to be strange. The man could surely afford the service, which was evidenced by the advance payment he had received before even making the journey to Los Angeles. But he seemed to not even have a rhyme or reason FOR this job to take place. Or at least he didn’t see one himself. But that was his job. To get it done, take his payment and remain silent. And that was just what he would do. What he always did.
Deciding to forget the constant thoughts clouding his judgment, the mysterious man raised the weapon in his hand once again, this time aiming directly for the center of the man’s forehead. Without hesitation his index finger began a rapid pulling motion, the shots quickly exiting the extended barrel as three bullets were sent into the man’s skull. Not waiting for any type of indication that the wife would or not be awakening by the light noises in their bedroom, he turned slightly, his hand moving just enough to now have the barrel aimed at her head now. Three more shots escape the pistol in his hand, embedding the bullets into her skull just as he had to her husband seconds ago.
Instantly his hand shifts again, aiming for her chest area, planting one more bullet into her heart. The entire scene remained as silent as could be. The only noise that could be heard the entire time was the barely audible noise of the device attached to the end of the black pistol doing just what it was created to do. Lowering the weapon, he then made his way to the side of the bed closest to the now deceased District Attorney Phillip Krause. Quickly returning the pistol to his jacket pocket, then retrieving a knife from the inside pocket of his jacket. Taking the 6 inch blade into his hand, his hand extended for the head of Mr. Krause, the blood leaking from his forehead down onto the white sheets and the pillow beneath him. His hand quickly found it’s way to the man’s mouth, opening it as much as he could as he seemed to be searching for something or another. A few seconds pass, and as his hand barely emerge from the man’s mouth, his finger tips remained almost still inside, pulling out what he wanted as far as he possibly could.
Mr. Krause’s tongue now was partially in his hands. He had completed the first part of the job he was sent to do tonight, and now it was time to finish it off and send the true message behind all of this. Silence. He still had another job to do later on tonight for the same employer, so he knew he’d have to make haste as well as ensure that no one would find the assassinated couple before it was time for the second job to take place. Still holding the man’s tongue in his hand as firmly as he could, his opposite hand slowly made it’s way toward it with the blade in hand and then…
Fade To Black…