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| Topic Started: Jan 21 2008, 08:50 PM (84 Views) | |
| EternalEbony | Jan 21 2008, 08:50 PM Post #1 |
I See Dead Laptops...
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Prologue A vehicle, sleek and the perfect dark shade to camoflauge with the night, rolled quietly along the street, near-silent engine producing no more than a faint, barely-audibl hum. It was large, but streamlined, capable of reaching quite impressive speeds if the need arose. But speed was not what they needed here- All they needed was stealth, a quality that all of them had trained even better than their other traits. The car slowed to a stop in front of a house that was seemingly ordinary, blending perfectly with the others that surrounded it with uniform simplicity. The figures that emerged from the vehicle knew with absolute certainty that it was the correct one, though- They hadn't made any truly accidental mistakes since their formation, and this was not about to change. Several of them drew rather large, impressive-looking guns from holsters concealed by long coats, and crept with fluid, noiseless movements around the sides of the house, stopping near the windows and aiming. The remaining agents quickly stormed towards the front of the house. Several approached the windows, crawling low underneath and opening the blinds the tiniest bit, peering inside, before giving the OK symbol to their comrades. They then pulled out flat, rectangular devices, and managed to wiggle the glass out with an ease that was more due to the government's construction regulations than the pane's quality itself. Then, they crawled in silently, followed by their companions who had stayed back and watched their work. They crept around the house, a man with a particularily large gun leading the way, moving stealthily from room to room, not touching a single item. The first floor was empty, and they searched everywhere, from the kitchen to the tiniest closet, before proceeding up the stairs, stepping lightly to avoid the dangerously loud creaking of old boards. Then, they began their investigation of the second floor, anticipation and adrenaline a comforting presense in all of their veins. Finally, they soundlessly pushed open one of the doors, and saw a sleeping figure inside. It was female, apparently in its mid-teens, and of caucasian race. It was the one they searched for. The small group parted as a woman moved to the front, holding a menacing gun. She aimed at the girl, and pulled the trigger. The teen was hit hard, in the neck, but she barely had time to open her eyes before they closed again. The dart, though it was not made to penetrate too deep, had fast-acting tranquilizers, and nothing could wake her up for the next few hours, that was certain. A few of the more muscular of the squad moved over to the bed, and picked up the limp form. They then moved quickly back through the house, not bothering to search the areas they had yet to investigate. Soon, they reached the door, and opened it with gloved hands. They walked out on the front lawn, not bothering to put the windows back in- After all, it didn't matter the slightest bit in the long-term. They returned to the vehicle, placing the girl in the farthest back row of seats, before being joined by their comrades who had left their stations aiming at the windows, and entering themselves. And then, suddenly, the vehicle began moving, off to another location. This was only the beginning of the night- By morning, many more panes would litter many more grassy lawns. |
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| EternalEbony | Mar 6 2008, 10:51 PM Post #2 |
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I See Dead Laptops...
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Chapter One: Shark The loud sound of rasping breaths echoed through the dark city, a contrast to the otherwise silent landscape. It was far from quiet, and an awkward noise, yet it seemed to fit perfectly with the tall, imposing brick walls that surrounded the cramped conditions of the alleyway. The wheezing, gasping traits of the breaths sounded as if whoever was making them must be exhausted, or perhaps ill or wounded. And yet neither was true. For the man who stood in the alley, it was simply a fact of life, something he had learned to live with. For while others might find his panting unnerving, he thought of it as comforting, a constant reminder that he was still very much alive. If one were to judge the man by appearance alone, they might instantly deem him an unsavory character, one of the many low-level criminals the government pretended to ignore. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties or so, around the age of many of the pickpockets and drug dealers- Or the ones slow enough to be noticed by witnesses, anyways. He wore a dirty grey hoodie, the logo too faded to read, and an equally dirty pair of jeans. His pale face was scratched, his hair a disorderly mess. But if one were to learn a bit about the man, they might not think of him so poorly. They might realize that the scratches on his face were not his fault, and that the one who caused them had not taken any injuries in return. They might learn that he only dressed how he did because he was too poor to afford anything else. Anymore about him would probably brushed off with a skeptical chuckle, followed by inquiries as to the real truth. Meanwhile, the man walked down the alley at a quick pace, seeming to be hurrying, but with no evidence as to where. The direction in which he headed led nowhere of purpose- The end of the alley he walked towards was only close to a heavily polluted stream, which would block him from going anywhere else. Nobody had walked here in a long time, he knew from the heavy concentrations of filth on the ground. There was an occasional sign where the trash had been disturbed in the past, probably by some random drug dealer, but that was all. He reached the end of the alley, where a five foot drop led to the stream. He paused for a long moment, watching the murky brown water rush past, listening to its sounds mixing with the noise of his own breathing. He took his hood off his head, enjoying the feel of the breeze brushing his short brown hair. Then, he jumped. The cool water rushed to cover his body, engulfing him in its muddy depths. The temperature was freezing, but the man didn't mind too much. He wouldn't be submerged very long. Quickly, he swam beneath the surface, heading for the other side not too far away. While others might be terrified in his situation, he exuded an aura of calm. Beneath the water, surprisingly, his mouth was not open, yet he seemed far from drowning. While one might've expected him to be gasping for air due to his condition, he was inhaling normal, just with water instead of air. Small twin streams of carbon-dioxide bubbles trailed from his neck, where two thin slits were now visible, seeming awkward on a human. If anybody had seen him through the murky cover of the river, they would've known at once that something was strange about the man. After a moment, he reached the edge of the river, climbing out quickly. Instantly, the heavy breathing began again, a little more intense at first due to the energy taken by swimming. He was thoroughly drenched, but he didn't seem to care for a moment, pale brown eyes scanning the nearby area quickly. Then, he began to shiver. The stream had been icier than he had anticipated- The air above it was warm, but unseasonably so, and the water hadn't had time to lose its biting edge. But he'd recover, he knew. Hypothermia wasn't likely for him, and although it was uncomfortable, he had to continue on. The water, as polluted as it was, had probably cleaned some of the dirt off of him anyways- Not that he really cared either way. Vanity was pointless when you were living on the streets, and most people avoided him just for his breathing, anyways. He walked on, idly wringing some of the water out of his drenched hoodie as he did. He continued for quite a while, a rythm of panting and footsteps forming a simple pattern, an unchanging beat. Soon, his eyes fixed on what appeared to be his destination- A fountain, the sound of the water barely audible, stood in the distance. He paused as he reached the fountain, glaring up at it. It was a statue of a face he recognized all too well- the nation's first dictator, water spurting from his cold stone mouth onto the lower area of the fountain, ready to be pumped back up again in an endless cycle. The man's eyes glanced around to make sure nobody was watching, and he spat hatefully into the pool of water at the bottom of the fountain, before sitting patiently on a nearby bench. He waited for a long time, yawning occasionally. He hoped the other man would be here soon, so he could get to sleep. And then, after a few hours, he got what he wanted. Another man, seeming considerably older, wandered towards him. The older man's eyes seemed strangely unfocused, but he certainly knew where the younger-man was. "Adder, you're late. Sure, you explain to me how I have to be exactly on time, but you were supposed to be here... Two hours ago." The man in the hoodie pointed out, obviously irritated. "I had... issues to tend to. Anyways, back to business. Do you have the information for me?" The older man, Adder, inquired, glancing. "You've obviously taken some sort of a swim- I reccomend taking the long ways around the stream until later in the year, when the water's warm." He pointed out, sighing. The other man responded with a moment of silence, before speaking. "Yes, I have the info." He said simply, glancing at Adder as if expecting something. After a few seconds, the man who insisted on being called a snake-name put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a few coins, which shined in the moonlight. The drenched man counted them quickly, before nodding. "They seem to be staying in one of the old abandoned buildings. It's condemned to be demolished in about a month, so you'll have to take action soon before they move. 118 Keski Lane." He commented. Not waiting for a response, he snatched the coins from Adder's hand, pocketing them quickly. Then, he walked off, and the footsteps and rasp of breathing were the only sounds of the city once more. Finally, he could get some sleep, before another day, another struggle to survive in a country where only the most fortunate were permitted to live. |
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