myOtaku.com: Vicious 2

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myOtaku.com: Vicious 2

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Whatever....
I cant decide whether I want to keep posting here but this is the place that jumped off my writing career in the first place so if anyone wants to check out my new project here it is. I cant really blame you for blowing me off because my indecisiveness has been quite annoying but for hell of it here it is

Dome
Round 1

Life behind the thermal powered scope of a Remington SR8 sniper rifle embodied the world of one Jean Hunter. Throughout his several hundred assignments, his trigger finger never ceased to sweat. He treated every job as his first to remain fresh like a novice while as precise as a veteran. The mayor was in the center of the scope. Jean watched his assignment, calculating every footstep. His vision was sharp as the golden hollow tip, craving the flesh of a victim that was nearly thousands of feet away. Jean’s cattle moved into a crowd of roaring people that had no idea they were shaking hands with a dead person. Jean knew his time was running out, he had to be swift. His lookout’s voice came through his earpiece telling him to take the shot. Jean ignored him. His thirst for adrenaline drove him to engage in amateur tactics. A true sharpshooter of his caliber would’ve done the sniping from inside the building at a closer range. But Jean was a man addicted to challenge and doing the impossible came in a sharp syringe. His target was nearly a quarter of a mile away. Jean was on the roof with patrol coming his way. He stepped back from the gun and put his golden hair into a ponytail. He threw a pair of shades on before leaning back into the lens and firing immediately. Before the mayor’s wife could hit the ground, Jean was gone.

A news flash about the mayor’s slain wife spread across the TV screens at the bar. The bartender looked up while rinsing a mug.
“Yo, bartender, when are those drinks comin?” an old man, dressed in a suit wearing an earpiece asked.
“Just a sec,” he replied.
“That Jean is such an obnoxious asshole,” The old man said.
“Yeah, but what would be without him,” a young man wearing the same thing the old man wore said.
“I just hope that when you and the big man will go about doin jobs more efficiently when you get started,” Rich chuckled.
“Don’t worry, Rich, we wont put too much stress on you,” the young man said, smirking. The bartender served the two men a pair of beers.
“Whatever, Oran,” Rich said, taking a sip of his beer.
“When do I start my first job?” Oran asked.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself; I see big things for you and David. If you stick with me and Jean you two will be the best around and have skill to pass on to the next generation. Jean and David entered the bar, dressed respectively according to Rich and Oran. The entire building quaked when David walked, he wasn’t a tall guy but he had a very imposing size. He took a seat next to Oran and Rich and ordered a beer.
“What’s up fellas,” Jean said, standing behind the three.
“Trying to keep our cover, champ,” Rich said.
“Speaking of champs, aren’t we going to the dome tonight to hear the Chairman’s huge announcement?” David asked.
“Later, first we have to drop by Club Isis and get the next assignment,” Jean replied.
“I hope Elric doesn’t say that we have to take out the kids next, it was bad enough having to kill the wife,” Rich muttered.
“Why can’t we just go after the main target?” David asked.
“He wants his enemy to suffer before he dies. He’s going to take down everything dear to him before the target eventually eliminates itself. That’s just the way it is,” Jean explicated.
“It’s all just business, right Jean?” Oran asked.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any easier,” He took his glasses off and looked at both Oran and Rich, “If this job is too much for either you, feel free to step out, no hard feelings. Elric will only let you go so far before you are officially initiated, by then it will be too late,” Jean said.
“We’re in, no doubt,” Dave said.
“Hell yeah,” Oran said, raising his beer for a toast. As soon as all four glasses clinked together the lights in the bar flickered, and heavy footsteps could be heard at the door. A tall figure entered the bar, treading slowly and making the old wooden floors moan with every step. His face was concealed by shadow of his hat and coated by his thin black hair. A black trench coat clothed his body. He lifted the tail of it before taking a seat at the stool. He lifted his bloody hand that was coated with ripped black tape and signaled for a drink. The four men stared at him and put their drinks down. The dark figured sat still, watching the bartender. He then turned his head abruptly, glaring at the four mean with a light blue stare. He spooked all of them except for Jean who stared back intrepidly.
“Let’s get out of here, boys,” Jean, uttered before putting his glasses back on and the four men left the bar as the spooked bartender served the dark figure his drink.

“Who the hell was that guy at the bar?” Oran asked.
“That was Hector, he competes at the dome,” Jean replied, staring at the sea of young people dancing from the V.I.P. section.
“You have to go against guys like him?” David asked, two women clutching his bulky arms.
“I haven’t fought him yet, but he is a four time Dome Lord,” Jean retorted, playing with the cup of vodka in his hand.
“I was there when he first came to the Dome, he was nineteen years old. In his first year at the Dome he defeated one of the best Dome Lords ever,” Rich said.
“Who was that?” Oran asked, leaning towards the small table and clutching his fingers together.
“Billy Bollea,” Jean replied.
“How do you know that?” David asked.
“I helped him win. See, me and Billy were archenemies. He fought for everything right and true. I fought to win,” Rich said, sitting back against the velvet seat, releasing a small chortle.
“We all fight to win, isn’t that right champ?” A snide voice entered the V.I.P. room.
“What’s the next assignment, Elric?” Jean asked bluntly, not taking his eyes away from the Plexiglas window.
“Come on, Jean, take a load off,” Elric said, running this fingers through his feigning black hair soaked in dye to hide it’s true grey form. He winked at Oran as he slid a manila folder to Rich.
“Cut to the chase,” Jean demanded, taking his glasses off and finally turning his glance over to Elric. Elric straightened his black blazer and crossed his legs with a smirk on his face. Rich opened the folder and pored over the assignment.
“Michael Hicks?” Rich blurted. The undeviating look on Jeans face foiled at the mention of the name.
“Wasn’t he your mentor when you worked for neo-generation?” Rich asked.
“He was my best friend, why do you want him dead?” Jean asked, staring back at Elric.
“Well, it seems Michael has just been released from prison and word is, he’s after one of my fighters,” Elric said.
“Why can’t you get him to eliminate, Michael?” Jean asked, coldly.
“Because he doesn’t know him as well as you, Jean; he’ll be at the Dome tonight, take him out there,” Elric ordered. Jean whistled at his crew and made his way out of the V.I.P. room.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
“I know you will,” Elric said.

A crowd of roaring fans surrounded a large cage containing two fighters in a surrounding that looked a lot like an underground dungeon lit by gas lights. Both fighters fell to the ground one catching the other in a sleeper hold. The fighter applying the hold gritted his teeth tighter than the red ponytail that was braided on the back of his head. The fighter being choked out could feel the itch of the first fighter’s grisly beard on his forehead. The second fighter was fading away, his sweat staining his orange jump suit; he hadn’t taken off since he left prison. The first fighter began to let up after noticing that the fighter in the orange jumpsuit was out of it. The second fighter opened his eyes and topped his possum tactics off with an elbow to the first fighters gut. He mustered enough strength to get up with the first fighter tightening the hold again. The second fighter drove another elbow in the first fighters gut and freed himself of the hold. He dashed toward the fenced build of the cage and the first fighter chased him. The second fighter ran up the fenced wall of the cage and landed behind his opponent. The first fighter turned into his fate as the second fighter wrapped his leg around the first fighter’s throat before bringing to the ground and breaking his neck. The roar of the crowd was silenced as the second fighter emerged victorious. He raised his hand in celebration while peering at the crowd. His green eyes picked out Jean Hunter and the two had a reuniting stare as the crowd began roar again.

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