Status: Working On It
Puppet Master
The Usual
Kill them, Brian. Kill them all.
Sunday afternoon. I believe it is just after 2:30, I think to myself as I walk through a cute little suburb. “25793 Mc Millen Street,” I say to myself, “what a nice house!” It was just a plain white one story house that looked fairly average and cleanly. I walked up to the door and rapped my hand on it three times.
An Italian woman opened the door, “May I help you?” She spoke very good English but still had a slight accent.
“Yes. Are you Mrs. Sarentino?” Before I could finish my question, she grabbed me then pulled me inside, slamming the door behind her.
“You’re going to end up killed if you call me by that name, kid.” Well that was impolite. “Who sent you?”
“Oh, I don’t think you need to know my employer,” I smiled at her in what I hoped what I hoped was my sweetest smile. “Is your husband home? I have a message for him.”
She looked at me puzzled then yelled, “Honey, someone is here to see you.” There was an unintelligible reply back then someone from out of site was walking closer. Their steps were heavy, as if tired. Then from out of the hallway came a tallish man in only a tank top and pajama bottoms.
“Who is this kid?” the man said in a rough voice. He must be tired, and most likely a bit mad to have been woken.
“I am Brian Jones. I came with a message from my employer that he is going to send someone to kill you and anyone else in this house.” I smiled at them when I finished talking.
They looked at me in surprise. Then the man pulled out a gun and smiled at me. “You think you can play games with me, kid? I should teach you a lesson. Maybe a few bullets in the legs-”
“Oh I’m not playing games sir. My employer has grown tired of you selling drugs in a town he is trying to keep clean. And you shouldn’t sell drugs anyway. Being a drug dealer, even though you obviously have sold well, is no way to make good money.” Then I pointed to the gun, “And that is not going to help you when the hit man is here.”
“Oh is that so? And who the hell is this amazing hit man?”
“Me.”
He glared at me. Eyes full of tired rage. Then he lifted his gun and aimed it at my head and… fired.
The gun roared to life for a second then, it all became quiet once again. I stared at Mr. Sarentino patiently as he waited for me to drop dead. “You really shouldn’t fire a gun in such a public area. You never know who might hear,” I said smiling politely. He just stared at me, eyes opening wider and wider. People have the funniest looks of surprise.
“H-how did you…” he stuttered slightly.
“Yes yes, ‘how did you do that’, I get that all the time,” I said, getting a bit bored. “I told you that gun of yours isn’t going to help you. This seems to be the boring ‘shocking’ moment I always have to go through.” The man jumped out of his seat and shot at me until the clip in his gun was completely empty. When he noticed not a single shot touched me, he took out the empty clip and replaced it with a full one from a pocket in his pajamas.
“Die!” he screamed.
“No, thank you.” I lifted my right hand and opened my mind slightly. I let my power touch his mind gently. It was scared and filled with shock. I let my power leave his mind, and anchor itself to the tips of my right hand. Then, without even moving one of the fingers I shot the five points of my energy from my fingers back at him. They latched onto key points of his body; his hands, legs, and head.
Before he could pull the trigger I put my hand in the stop position, causing him to lower the gun and stand straight, and unmoving. “Don’t waste bullets, sir.”
“What the hell are you?” he screamed.
“My name is Brian Jones, sir. But those who truly know what I am call me Puppet Master,” I grinned at him. Then I noticed his wife. I completely forgot about her. She was now hiding next to a large grandfather clock that read 3:10. “Oh shoot, I’m running late.” I pointed my right hand at the woman then let my pointer finger flick at her.
BANG!
Before Mr. Sarentino even knew what he’d done, his wife fell to the floor. Blood started to pool around her. All he could do was look at her in shock; then, he started to cry.
“Oh how sad. Whatever,” I said becoming even more bored. “Okay let’s finish this. I want to get some lunch before I have to reach my next vic- client.” I smiled politely at him as I maneuvered my hand and pointer finger so that he would aim the gun at his head. “Is there anything else you would like to say before you die?”
He looked at me filled with sadness and fury and said, “You’re a monster.”
“No sir. I’m much, much worse.”
BANG!
Sunday afternoon. I believe it is just after 2:30, I think to myself as I walk through a cute little suburb. “25793 Mc Millen Street,” I say to myself, “what a nice house!” It was just a plain white one story house that looked fairly average and cleanly. I walked up to the door and rapped my hand on it three times.
An Italian woman opened the door, “May I help you?” She spoke very good English but still had a slight accent.
“Yes. Are you Mrs. Sarentino?” Before I could finish my question, she grabbed me then pulled me inside, slamming the door behind her.
“You’re going to end up killed if you call me by that name, kid.” Well that was impolite. “Who sent you?”
“Oh, I don’t think you need to know my employer,” I smiled at her in what I hoped what I hoped was my sweetest smile. “Is your husband home? I have a message for him.”
She looked at me puzzled then yelled, “Honey, someone is here to see you.” There was an unintelligible reply back then someone from out of site was walking closer. Their steps were heavy, as if tired. Then from out of the hallway came a tallish man in only a tank top and pajama bottoms.
“Who is this kid?” the man said in a rough voice. He must be tired, and most likely a bit mad to have been woken.
“I am Brian Jones. I came with a message from my employer that he is going to send someone to kill you and anyone else in this house.” I smiled at them when I finished talking.
They looked at me in surprise. Then the man pulled out a gun and smiled at me. “You think you can play games with me, kid? I should teach you a lesson. Maybe a few bullets in the legs-”
“Oh I’m not playing games sir. My employer has grown tired of you selling drugs in a town he is trying to keep clean. And you shouldn’t sell drugs anyway. Being a drug dealer, even though you obviously have sold well, is no way to make good money.” Then I pointed to the gun, “And that is not going to help you when the hit man is here.”
“Oh is that so? And who the hell is this amazing hit man?”
“Me.”
He glared at me. Eyes full of tired rage. Then he lifted his gun and aimed it at my head and… fired.
The gun roared to life for a second then, it all became quiet once again. I stared at Mr. Sarentino patiently as he waited for me to drop dead. “You really shouldn’t fire a gun in such a public area. You never know who might hear,” I said smiling politely. He just stared at me, eyes opening wider and wider. People have the funniest looks of surprise.
“H-how did you…” he stuttered slightly.
“Yes yes, ‘how did you do that’, I get that all the time,” I said, getting a bit bored. “I told you that gun of yours isn’t going to help you. This seems to be the boring ‘shocking’ moment I always have to go through.” The man jumped out of his seat and shot at me until the clip in his gun was completely empty. When he noticed not a single shot touched me, he took out the empty clip and replaced it with a full one from a pocket in his pajamas.
“Die!” he screamed.
“No, thank you.” I lifted my right hand and opened my mind slightly. I let my power touch his mind gently. It was scared and filled with shock. I let my power leave his mind, and anchor itself to the tips of my right hand. Then, without even moving one of the fingers I shot the five points of my energy from my fingers back at him. They latched onto key points of his body; his hands, legs, and head.
Before he could pull the trigger I put my hand in the stop position, causing him to lower the gun and stand straight, and unmoving. “Don’t waste bullets, sir.”
“What the hell are you?” he screamed.
“My name is Brian Jones, sir. But those who truly know what I am call me Puppet Master,” I grinned at him. Then I noticed his wife. I completely forgot about her. She was now hiding next to a large grandfather clock that read 3:10. “Oh shoot, I’m running late.” I pointed my right hand at the woman then let my pointer finger flick at her.
BANG!
Before Mr. Sarentino even knew what he’d done, his wife fell to the floor. Blood started to pool around her. All he could do was look at her in shock; then, he started to cry.
“Oh how sad. Whatever,” I said becoming even more bored. “Okay let’s finish this. I want to get some lunch before I have to reach my next vic- client.” I smiled politely at him as I maneuvered my hand and pointer finger so that he would aim the gun at his head. “Is there anything else you would like to say before you die?”
He looked at me filled with sadness and fury and said, “You’re a monster.”
“No sir. I’m much, much worse.”
BANG!
♠ ♠ ♠
So this is how it begins. Have fun reading.