[img]http://i.imgur.com/tn3p4GG.jpg[/img] The voices were quiet today. It was odd that he called them the voices, there was only ever one.... it sounded weird to call her The Voice... sounded like a shit game show. [i]"You could call me Miss Green... considering you raped me then cut my head off, it really would be the least you could do" "but that would mean you were real" he whispered "Your whispering to me in your own head fucktard... how much more real do you want me to be" Bitch had a point "Don't call me a bitch" [/i] The voices were quieter than normal today.... that usually meant bloodshed later, saving their strength for screams to split his soul. It unnerved him that she knew his future before he did, did a man really waste his life picking his way through spiderwebs of fate intricately woven by his subconscious? He snapped back to the present and glowered at his phone.... if he watched it it would ring sooner. Despite his attention the buzz still made him jump, fingers fumbling as he snatched up the phone. [color=00a651]"Sal.. bout fucking time"[/color] "Raz, your right. I just spoke to Sparky, all of our potential forlorn converts are dropping their shit and heading out. They're going in ones and twos walking like they're running errands but they're tooled up. You're right man... their will be a cleansing tonight. I need you at the bar man." Sal was a good bloke, one of the first he had worked for in this city, light doorman work, crack a few skulls, scare off the rats... he liked the guy and the guy tolerated him but this was an opportunity too good to miss. [color=00a651]"I can't do that man."[/color] He heard Sal spit and he felt shame rising, a dull flush spreading over his cheeks. What sort of a friend was he.... A resourceful one [color=00a651]"Don't be like that man, you've got at least 8 hours before the cleansing, 3 full grown sons and 2 fucked up cousins you can call on. You can move half your shit to your appartment on the 50th floor by that time. You know these forlorn are too fucked for stairs not to mention you've got guards on the gate and reinforced doors. And get fucking insurance for the bar..." [/color] He paused guilt causing words to swell up inside him, the smell of the bullshit he was spewing wrinkling his nose, his innards reeling in shame until he vomited forth unbidden words [color=00a651]"and send me the bill"[/color] Soft bugger. Insurance in this town would cost him half the blood in his body and all the spunk in his balls.... who was he kidding... they were never empty.... but after tonight he might not need to donate no more. That had been his pattern thus far, working for bread and board, anytime he needed money, down to the hospital to watch shit porn and empty himself into a petridish. It wasn't a bad life as it went, at least he never had to pay for porn and as long as he stayed within 3 streets of wherever he was working he could do what he wanted. It had been slow work but he now had a place in most districts where he could turn up uninvited and find a hot meal and a bed waiting for him. It was this great trick.... If you sorted someone's troubles for nothing more than a hot meal and a chinwag over a beer in their kitchen.... they owed you. Until you called in that favour they were in your pocket. He had found a caveat to that trick early on and never made the mistake again. Always involve the wives... A man might owe you his left bolluck but his missus never let go of the right one. Unless she owed you too you'd be sleeping in the gutter. Listening to Sal murmuring his gratitude he knew Annie would have a hot meal for him on the table next time he came round. ________________________________ 3 calls and a carefully worded group text later and the rumour was planted. An hour to reach the target and half an hour for panic to set in. He tapped his phone gently bringing up a smiling handsome face of a strong man slowly being corrupted by good home cooking. A long scar brought danger to his features yet his eyes were mellow fixed lovingly on Selene, a stunning blonde woman with a smile like a radiant sunbeam and tits like two pumpkins in a growbag. He fixed his attention back on the man Tommy- the pinnacle of his information gathering. The word was Tommy had been a pretty high level player in one of the big name gangs though no one seemed to know which. The fact that he had been allowed to walk away was testament to that. The sunbeam had been the reason he had left it all behind, she had insisted they go clean and wanted to open a dancing school til Tommy talked her down to a night club. [b]SAFE[/b] [i]no drugs, no dickheads[/i] They ran it as a family business and persecuted the rules with ruthless efficiency. The mob left his club alone out of respect and the punters flocked in delighted they could spend a night out without risk of someone getting shot for spilling a drink. As the club grew the rats respect dwindled and became anger as several men who "knew Tommy" found themselves out on their arse watching Tommy and his sons tip their drugs into a drain. The rats had retaliated in force and Tommy had called in the old guard with assorted hangers on. Raz (a hanger on through an associate Small Thin Charlie) had found himself at Tommy's back standing side by side with men with bulging beer bellies and half hidden smirks as they relived their mispent youth. When the Rats had backed down and a peace agreement akin to "go fuck yourselves" had been agreed tears of laughter had rolled down wrinkled cheeks. He had found his eyes fixed on Tommy... All these people for one man....the older man had met his gaze and a momentary nod of acknowledgement passed between them. This man was his in to the big leagues and Tommy fucking knew it. ----------- Growling he hit the call button, bending the knee made his skin crawl.... he was better than this shit. The crawling was almost over... he was so close. " Talk to me" cocky prick.... his knee felt like it was on fire [color=00a651]"Tommy, it's Raz, I'm a friend of Charlie's. I just wanted to check you'd heard"[/color] "bout the cleansing, yeah shit's going mental down here, people screaming, packing up their cars trying to get out" [color=00a651]"Running ent the way man... You bringing the boys in?" [/color] he scratched his knee but the itch burned harder, faster searing his flesh. "I know man" he paused "They got families to care for businesses to hold on to, I don't want to make a habit of calling them in. I walked away to get away from this....Fuck it doesn't matter" [color=00a651]"What does Selene say?"[/color] the itch wouldn't go away, he could feel his nail digging into his skin, feel warm bloody running across his knuckes, he just needed to reach deeper, it was there just below the surface "She wants us to stand together as a neighbourhood, bring everyone and everything we can into the club and make a stand." [color=00a651]"I'll be round in 5"[/color] There was a moment of silence "Aite" Even as the phone clicked Razor raised a fist in triumph a single strand of blood running down his wrist... it was on... four years and it was finally on. __________________________________________________ It hadn't been difficult for Tommy to convince people to stay, to leave their buildings unguarded, move their stock and families into the basement storerooms. Shop by shop he asked them to meet him and they came with doubts in their heart but respect on their faces. "Where you going to go... the whole city is going to be burning?" "Your going to give up your livelihood to some fucking nutjobs?" If Tommy's brusque charm didn't work Selene's passionate intensity and a healthy dose of cleave seemed to stiffen the resolve of most men Her eyes blazed as she spouted rhetorics like a shit fucking fountain "If there was one thing people say about us citizens of Santa Somabra they are that fighter that everyone fears. They put us down again and again but we keep getting back up. Tonight we land one back. We will set an example of how to fight these pricks." Only he and Tommy knew how fucking stupid that was but he loved her and he couldn't say no. She was too blind to see that she was, in her desire to do good, dragging him back into the game she hated so much... and... if he played his cards right... Raz would be right there with him. __________________________________________________ He sat in the middle of the dancefloor, skin seeming to meld with the blackness. He could see the humans clearly, away from him crouching behind the bar, pistols in hand. He'd let them keep their pistols, he might be the better shot but he didn't need a gun to keep his nerve. They did. He could taste their terror in the spicy tang of fresh urine that wafted through the room. He could see it in the slight twitches of their limbs, hear it in the slightly sniffy breaths they took in time to the panicked fluttering of their hearts. Tommy had let him take charge of the defense of this place whilst he sorted out the people. Handed him a group of 3 spotty youths and 4 balding men and told him to sort it. Sort it he had. The club was a nice place to defend. One entrance, plenty of pillars and cover, single stairway down to the storerooms, small and discreet exit if shit went wrong. Now he sat in the middle of the dancefloor, legs crossed and eyes wide listening to the sounds of the mob. 8,457 feet and one prosthetic, moving out of time caused a relentless pounding punctuated by stacatto chants, explosions... the howls of the dying. The front of a mob always had a purpose, a destination in mind, they smashed shit as they went but it didn't really matter to them, it was just gravy on what they were about to do. Tramp, tramp, tramp. The back of a mob was where the danger was, at the back people got bored, people got distracted, people got tired of walking Tramp, tramp tramp... closer now, passing the doors Thud... someone kicked at the doors, the lock rattled, scattered laughter, quick frantic chipping sounds as brick hit brick, glass shattered as it clattered to the pavement, the streaming sound of liquid against wood... more laughter. He could smell more piss inside the room with him, small sobs. He had given them one rule... shut the fuck up.... if the front took interest, they were dead. He said nothing just held up his long bony middle finger still caked in his own blood. The sobbing was hastily stiffled. Tramp, Tramp, Tramp moving away.... Tramp Tramp Tramp.... voices getting fainter but some remained.... stragglers Repeated sounds of something hard on wood in several different places spread out across the street outside, the thud of a shoulder against the wood of the club door in front of him "Empty" a harsh voice shouted. Thud on the club door "Fuck this shit... empty too" Thud, it seemed to punctuate the voices Smashing glass coming closer up the street, frustrated shouts moving closer and closer as the stragglers tried in vain to loot empty shops "Where the fuck is everything"... "this is bullshit"..." she fucking promised" Closer and closer they came more thuds on the club door as more shoulders pressed in adding their weight to it. "Fuck this is Tommy's gaff" Murmurs of excitement... Chants...cat calls "Boys" someone shouted a loud voice a commanding voice "come help us kick this door down" Running feet... Excited whoops more thuds "Prime pussy in here boys" snarled the commanding voice "first cum... First served on the daughters.... Leave the milf that cunt is mine" Behind him Tommy shifted but he held his calm. Crash..... the doors burst inwards and a single figure stumbled into the room teetering on the very edge of the streets glow. Suddenly seperated from the crowd he leaned forward struggling to penetrate the darkness. For a single second everything was held in perfect balance Thunk A knife protruded from the man's face the blade glittering in the dusky glow of the street lamps. Blood ran down the man nose, face frozen even as he dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut. The mob behind him gave an internal gasp a single breath drawing them back , suprise twisted into excitement, excitement boiled up to anger and the silence splintered as they roared as one. An indignant roar, a roar of loss, a demand for revenge and the mob became a scrum. Men pushing, kicking, screaming desperately trying to push into the darkness to reach the kills within. A seething mass boiled like a kettle then the steam escaped, pressure sending the front row bursting through the door into the darkness. He raised a long finger and the lights came up. Every light... Spotlights,floodlights, houselights all pointed at that 3 footspace in front of the door. Dazzling brightness caused the front row to reel colliding with those pushing behind. Confusion, disorientation, men behind shoving blinded men foward... Men stumbled, men fell... men screamed as they were crushed beneath weight of numbers. Arcan lowered his finger and the crack of gunfire burst out overwhelming the screams with a brutal cacophony. The air split above him and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Wind whipped across his skull mere inches away and men collapsed before him, blood red flowers blooming on their chests... this was what he.... [i]"Is this really what you live for?" hissed the voice, revulsion oozed from every syllable. She knew the answer and he spat back spitefully "No this next bit is what I live for" [/i] The gunfire stopped, the sound of clips being ejected fresh clips being slapped into magazines and the crazed mob spilled forward, blissfully unaware of the corpses they crushed beneath their feet. Howls erupted on their lips as they rushed towards the reloading guns He got to his feet in one fluid motion, a knife spinning into each hand and he glided to meet the onrushing tide. His first blade met the gut of a wild eye man whose spitting screaming face dropped as he wrenched the knife upwards blade meeting breastbone. Intestines spilled out slippery eels cascading over his hands. [i]"this is what I live for" he snarled[/i] His second blade met a man's throat a short vicious strike leaving a waterfall of bload spurting from ruined arteries. It spattered his chest, a drop or two on his lips, his bloodlust rising. [i]"I have the power of life and death" he snarled[/i] Her screams were a majestic aria in his mind rising and falling with pure fiscal anguish. So raw, so beautiful. Tears of joy ran down his cheeks as he sent more souls to heaven. An angel should never be lonely. _______________ He sat in the middle of the dance floor. A dance floor doing a very passable impersonation of an abatoire. He should tip really. Tommy stood before him, the wary gate of a man standing before a sleeping lion. "I appreciate this man" he grunted They both knew what was coming. The silence stretched and Tommy shifted a little. Cocky prick wasn't so sure now. Arcan didn't move but his eyes burned into life. [color=00a651]"you know they'll be back right?'[/color] His voice was little more than a whisper. Tommy nodded his eyes hollow. "I'll make the call"