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Professional sadist. I like playing with chemicals and needles.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Running Gun

Well... something walked in on a business meeting yesterday and caused a quite a ruckus. It was a horrible interruption, and it got quite messy. Story time!

It was about 11 o' clock, and I had a lunch date with a client. Italian cuisine, if you were wondering. She was a shifty character, always on the edge of her seat and always antsy to pull a trigger. I smirked while I was watching her from across the restaurant, she wasn't very good at concealing herself in a crowd if that was her intention. It was blatantly obvious she was what I like to call a Running Gun. She kept scratching her lower back, fidgeting against her seat. Something was rubbing against her uncomfortably, and my guess was that it was a concealed weapon of some kind, most likely the 9mm that she possessed illegally. Her eyes were red, she wasn't sleeping well. Nightmares. Hehe. My previous research also showed that she has had quite a history with drug abuse and car theft. Escaping terror by getting high is the oldest trick in the book and if you wanna survive as a Runner, knowing how to hot-wire a car is the first thing you learn.

If only she had managed to contact a Librarian, she probably could have saved herself a lot of trouble. Librarian's are good at keeping things quiet. Hehe too bad, four years of running and she never found a Librarian to erase her past and now its caught up to her.

Jack, is that your name? Jackie Jack McJack. Hehe no wait, I think its John. Josh! That's it. Ha! That's your name. I think. I still have your gun! Hehe if Shady wasn't so protective, I would offer to meet you again sometime to return it... Hoho, I'm sure you'd like it back. It's been very helpful to me, I hope you understand that.

Anyways, back to the story. I had Jack's gun in my jacket (Ha! Jack, Jacket. Life is funny like that), but I really only carried that thing for show. Shooting someone is no fun, its too easy and too quick. It sure does stop someone in their tracks, though, when you whip out a shiny black pistol and point it in their direction. Hehe.

Would I use Jack's little toy today? I decided not to. No painting a picture with a gunshot today. The girl, she called herself Ashley. That's what the others said, at least. The other runners, I mean. They all had such beautiful singing voices. Ashley Smith, though, is not really Ashley Smith at all. That would be ridiculous. You wouldn't believe how many "Smiths" I have met in my lifetime. Smiths and Johnsons everywhere, but not a drop to drink!

So there I was, across the "mood-lit" restaurant, watching the Ashley Smith who is not actually Ashley Smith, admiring her flawed facade and then it hit me. My brain exploded with a whole new concept, and I felt inspiration and affirmation flood my mind. Theories bubbled up like boiling water and I stood from my seat, heading to the men's room to prepare, wearing a smile.

My mask slipped onto my face, attaching itself like a symbiotic life-form. My satchel hugged me, and smiled. I heard it sing in eager anticipation, stomach full of goodies. It sang a new song, I suppose it was as inspired as I was. I heard a toilet flush behind me, I turned, a man began to open the stall door and let out what would have been a profanity if I had not kicked the door into him. He fell backwards, landing on his throne and I descended upon him with a giggle. I pressed him against the seat, my hand around his neck. He thrashed, swinging at me. It was pathetic. He never landed a blow. I pulled a syringe from my bag, jousting with the long point. His voice died, his throat swelled. He still breathed, but his panicked grunts were silent.

"Hush," I said. "Today is your lucky day." His body went limp, he stopped resisting. He lacked the energy to fight, his arms were jelly, his legs numb. His breathing calmed. His eyes remained wide and terror-filled.

Inside my head, I was dancing. Ha, what fun. I pulled a nail-file from my pocket, stroking his cheek. "Open wide." His head lolled back, and his mouth swung open wide involuntarily. "Let's check those pearly whites."

Oh, yes, you didn't know I was a dentist? Its really just another hobby of mine.

I pulled out a long and thin knife, which barely fit between the man's teeth. I made small incisions, gently slicing is gums. Time to try a new creation! Hehe I always feel bubbly at times like these, so you can imagine my excitement as I pulled out the Joy Jelly Serum I had concocted earlier this month. I squeezed a tiny pea-sized portion of the thick substance onto a travel-sized toothbrush I kept with me (Not for myself, of course!) and brushed the congealed potion against his teeth. The man's eyes sprang to life again, thrashing in his head. They rolled back and I could feel his tensing vocal chords against my palm as he tried to scream.

I bet it felt wonderful. I moved on to the next step, applying the file to his teeth. I've never sculpted before, but there is a first time for everything! Hehe. If only I had had time to interview him on how the process made him feel... Halfway through filing I realized the time and had to cut my procedure short. I carved my signature into his tongue with my special oral knife and patted him on the cheek. His legs moved as mobility returned to him slowly, but I quickly administered chloroform to the patient and stuck another large syringe into his neck. Standing up, I dusted myself off and cleaned my tools in the sink before leaving. It was of no consequence to me if anyone found the unconscious man in the bathroom stall, and the men's room was unusually inactive today.

Perhaps the Boss is looking out for me, eh? Hehehehe.

So, I returned to the dining area of the restaurant and noticed that Ms. Smith was packing up to leave. Not a single person had noticed my ominous presence, so I decided to lean against a wall and watch her for a few more seconds. Heh, she stood and I noticed the black hilt of a handgun sticking out of her pants. Predictable.

Her blonde hair was a mess. I mean, messier. Ha!

She started to leave. I followed her out. Once outside, she turned a street corner. I followed her. She turned into an alley. I laughed out loud, and gave myself a wide bearing as I turned down the street. John's gun was in my hand, safety clicking off.

What a beautiful trick, Ms. Smith. In another life, you might have been a passable actress.

She was waiting for me, she had her own weapon drawn, and she was pointing it menacingly at my head. I instinctively raised my free hand and shadows whipped around my wrist. She dropped her gun and screamed. I was within range of grabbing her now. I slapped her across the face with the butt of John's pistol. She fell against the wall of the alley, I kneed her in the face. She scrambled to her feet, I kicked her pistol away from us, she pulled a knife out of her pocket. A switchblade. Really? Ha!

She stabbed at me, I caught her by the wrist and broke it. I pulled her by the hand to my left, and then swung her to my right again. Feel the burn, Ashley. She was caught off guard by my speed, I grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her into my uppercut. She fell onto her back, I sat with my knees on her arms.

"We all have our tricks, don't we?" I giggled, "Four years surviving on the same con, eh?  I'm surprised nobody has caught on before." She tried to bite me, I reached into my satchel and pulled a syringe free.

"Not very conversational, eh?" I patted her face, "Don't worry, I'll be quick. Now," I pulled a camcorder from my bag, "Ms. Ashley the Actress, its time for your Internet debut!" I pressed record and sunk the needle's tip into her neck. Then it happened. I saw her eyes jump to something behind me. I looked over my shoulder and something tall and... skinny... And naked. Or at least, half-naked. It was covered in bandages like a mummy, but there were plenty of exposed areas. Its arms and legs were very long, bent and twisted.... It looked like a messier, sloppier interpretation of the Tall Man. Like, a Tall Man made out of distorted clay... naked, and covered in bandages instead of a suit. And it had a face. It had eyes, and a wide grin. The mouth was sown up like a doll, and all over its body were scratches like tally marks... I was half disgusted and half entranced by the morbid beauty of it.

My instinctual reaction was to assume that it was the Tall Man, or something like the Tall Man... But it was much different then the Slender Man. It just stood there for a second, long enough for me to notice it, and then it was gone. Its feet (Without toes and thin) never moved though, it just floated away as if it was riding an unseen skateboard or something.

Here is the really frustrating part. I was distracted long enough for the freaking Running Gun to wiggle a hand free and grab something from her pocket. A vial of something acidic, she spilled the contents all over me, burning my face and mask... The pain was a minor irritation, but then she ran away before I could pull Josh's gun loose to shoot her in the foot or something...

Now I have to locate freaking "Ashley Smith" again, draw her out AGAIN, and explain to the Boss why I failed to kill the stupid little brat. Worst of all, I have no clue what that other thing was that decided to interrupt me today. Just another thing to worry about. Oh, and the head rushes are still bothering me.

At least I got to test the Joy Jelly. That was the highlight of the day. I wonder if the patient has committed suicide yet. The chemicals I injected into him after knocking him out with the chloroform have probably set in... Hmm. Excuse me while I do a follow-up on this subject and/or vent my frustration. Hehehehe.

Until I update again,
~tA

2 comments:

  1. Sigh, I want that gun back, deary.

    It's interesting as always to read/hear about just what you're up to. That thing definitely wasn't the Slender Man, I'm incredibly curious about this creature. Do be careful, hon. Be a shame if you showed up dead so soon.

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  2. "Client", "Ashley Smith", "mood-lit"... you use quite a few quotation marks, dearie.

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