Fallen
Jun 11th, 2003, 01:32:43 PM
-It was an abondoned ware house somewhere in the more rundown sector of Coruscant. The undescript building had been empty for many decades, it's windows long since blackened up by urban decay.
Tonight was different.-
"Put it on the table."
-A row of suits in trench coats stood in a line, along the wall.
The exception to their black colour was a single white duit in the middle.
He had instructed to another suit standing against the opposite wall to put the brief case, cuffed to his wrist, on the lonely table in the middle of the vast, empty interior of the building.
The lone suit approached the table, as instructed, he placed the briefcase on the table.
He opened it with a key fastened by a chain to the inside of his jacket, and then turned it to face the others before speaking.-
"2 kilo's, as agreed."
-The one in white reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag and tossed it onto the table before replying.-
"40 pieces, as agreed."
-The other was just removing the bag from the table when he suddenly, and abruptly, collapsed onto the table. A crimson pool began to grow rapidly on the table top before it dribbled onto the floor.
The white-claded man was frozen in shock for a second before reacting.-
"We've got a hitter, take him out, NOW!!!!"
-With the order the row removed blasters from beneath their coats and began shooting inot the shadowy corners of the room, the bolt lighting up the darkness like strobe lights.
One in the row collapses to the floor suddenly, his throat also cut from ear to ear.-
"All of you, to the centre, now!"
-They moved into a circle, facing outward, in the centre of the room, standing in a small pool of light beneath the only lit bulb in the room.
The fire was relentless but they weren't aiming at all, they heard and saw nothing other then their own bolts flying through the air and striking the cold walls.
And then it happened, they ran out of ammo.
Just a blur under the light, like a ghost, the dark sillouette darts up to the circle and, standing between two of the bodyguards, exstends both hands out sideways before drawing them back to his sides, cutting both of their throats, and then dissappearing back into the shadows.-
"THE FRELL WAS THAT!!!!! "
-In arcs of shadow, the blurred ghost approached again this time 4 more fell to the floor before he dissappeared, the last remaining 2 guards make a run for the door, through the darkness.
With screams of terror, they'd never be seen again.
With only the white left, he was more then terrorfied, to afraid to stay, to afraid to run.
He spun back and for frantically, his eyes desperately serching the shadows for a figure to shot at but not so much a whisper revealed itself.-
"Where ar.....wha........what do you want!!"
-The look of pure dread on the mans face freezes up hard but it vacates him, the terror drains from his face, a fine red line slowly draws across his throat, the cut tissue delayed in its openning behind the sheer speed of the cut.
The tall, dark figure walked out from the shadow in slow steps, his head bowed slightly, his sinister eyes fixed on the man as he falls to his knees, red thrusts of fluid spray out and up in regular pulses from the fine cut across the throat, each pulse growing weaker, the colour draining from the mans face.
He finally falls face down in a pool of his own blood.
The dark man approaches the corpse and removes the dogtags from around it's neck and turns the corpse over, taking a momment to carve a symbol into the corpses forhead.
The shadowman departs as silently, and as completely as he entered.-
-Four hours later the doors swing open and in walks two figures, they walk right up to the corpse in the middle of the room and survey the damage or at least the surprising lack of it in this carnage. The closer observes the rune on white's head before speaking to the other.-
"Yeah, it looks like his work alright....[/i]"
Tonight was different.-
"Put it on the table."
-A row of suits in trench coats stood in a line, along the wall.
The exception to their black colour was a single white duit in the middle.
He had instructed to another suit standing against the opposite wall to put the brief case, cuffed to his wrist, on the lonely table in the middle of the vast, empty interior of the building.
The lone suit approached the table, as instructed, he placed the briefcase on the table.
He opened it with a key fastened by a chain to the inside of his jacket, and then turned it to face the others before speaking.-
"2 kilo's, as agreed."
-The one in white reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag and tossed it onto the table before replying.-
"40 pieces, as agreed."
-The other was just removing the bag from the table when he suddenly, and abruptly, collapsed onto the table. A crimson pool began to grow rapidly on the table top before it dribbled onto the floor.
The white-claded man was frozen in shock for a second before reacting.-
"We've got a hitter, take him out, NOW!!!!"
-With the order the row removed blasters from beneath their coats and began shooting inot the shadowy corners of the room, the bolt lighting up the darkness like strobe lights.
One in the row collapses to the floor suddenly, his throat also cut from ear to ear.-
"All of you, to the centre, now!"
-They moved into a circle, facing outward, in the centre of the room, standing in a small pool of light beneath the only lit bulb in the room.
The fire was relentless but they weren't aiming at all, they heard and saw nothing other then their own bolts flying through the air and striking the cold walls.
And then it happened, they ran out of ammo.
Just a blur under the light, like a ghost, the dark sillouette darts up to the circle and, standing between two of the bodyguards, exstends both hands out sideways before drawing them back to his sides, cutting both of their throats, and then dissappearing back into the shadows.-
"THE FRELL WAS THAT!!!!! "
-In arcs of shadow, the blurred ghost approached again this time 4 more fell to the floor before he dissappeared, the last remaining 2 guards make a run for the door, through the darkness.
With screams of terror, they'd never be seen again.
With only the white left, he was more then terrorfied, to afraid to stay, to afraid to run.
He spun back and for frantically, his eyes desperately serching the shadows for a figure to shot at but not so much a whisper revealed itself.-
"Where ar.....wha........what do you want!!"
-The look of pure dread on the mans face freezes up hard but it vacates him, the terror drains from his face, a fine red line slowly draws across his throat, the cut tissue delayed in its openning behind the sheer speed of the cut.
The tall, dark figure walked out from the shadow in slow steps, his head bowed slightly, his sinister eyes fixed on the man as he falls to his knees, red thrusts of fluid spray out and up in regular pulses from the fine cut across the throat, each pulse growing weaker, the colour draining from the mans face.
He finally falls face down in a pool of his own blood.
The dark man approaches the corpse and removes the dogtags from around it's neck and turns the corpse over, taking a momment to carve a symbol into the corpses forhead.
The shadowman departs as silently, and as completely as he entered.-
-Four hours later the doors swing open and in walks two figures, they walk right up to the corpse in the middle of the room and survey the damage or at least the surprising lack of it in this carnage. The closer observes the rune on white's head before speaking to the other.-
"Yeah, it looks like his work alright....[/i]"