The Vibehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZfpqOcAA7UAnother's Story
It stank like regurgitated swill and cheap sex, and a heavy blanket of smoke lay over the room. It was by no means an established facility or gambling house; and was barren with no furnishing bar a table and several dilapidated chairs of different styles. Longjohn sat opposite the mark, and to his right and left sat Paddy and Fitzroy respectively; Lupin had the door and watched over the room as normal. Cards were dealt and drinks were sipped, the mark oblivious to anything. He loved these thug wannabes, ghetto climbers who didn't understand the true nature of crime or it's subtlety, and this dreadlocked natty was no different. "So, let's get started shall we lads?"
As the game progressed the mark kept his cool despite being nearly 1k under, and after several hours of playing he had no more money to give and was heavily in debt, which was no surprise considering how Longjohn was stacking the deck in his people's favour. At this point Lupin, a monster by any normal man's means, walked from his station by the door and placed a firm hand on the mark's shoulder. Longjohn, familiar with this next step, stood and turned his back to the table."So, I think you find yourself in a predicament here. No money, no assets, nothing of value to give. I'm a generous sort so if yo-""I still have one thing left to give."
His voice was dark
. The sort of dark that transcends light or tone or noise; and the pitch was low, like a tectonic movement forcing pressure and splitting the earth. Longjohn raised an inquisitive eyebrow and peered over his shoulder."And just what might that be, friend?"
There was a low hiss that seemed to emenate from the mark's side of the table, and after it faded residually in a few seconds it was followed by a clang of glass and metal on the ground. Fitzroy picked up an object and displayed it in his open palm for the room. A heavy-duty pressure syringe, now empty."I can give you death."
The mark's skin, already scarred, strained and contorted. His eyes glazed over, losing nearly all of their white. He opened his mouth into a ferocious smile, and his teeth loosely dangled in his gums, dropping one-by-one onto the floor as ivory daggers pushed their way to the surface. "Awww fuck no-"
Longjohn raced to the door and fumbled, desperately trying to force the key into the lock. Behind him, he could hear the cracking of bones shifting, the gasps of awe of his men, then the screaming came. Within seconds the room was silent, with the exception of the metronome drips of blood pooling on the floor.
Cassius gently pushed open the door, which now swung on only one hinge after the massacre, and stepped out into the filthy alleyway; half amalgamated from cast iron and clumsy brickwork. His body had reverted now to a slightly
more human appearance, but he was still soaked in blood. He looked to both ends of the alley, and started to wander towards the bustle of the ghetto.
As the corpses in the stinking room now knew, Cassius Dwight did not