Behind Closed Doors

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Behind Closed Doors

Post  OrleosSacrenine on Wed Jan 11, 2012 10:16 pm

The first thing to greet Barts as he came back from the world of unconsciousness was the smell of mildew and the aching pain in his stomach. Bleary eyes opened, only to be greeted by the sight of what he thought was a small room. The walls were shrouded in darkness, it pressed in from all sides, held at bay by the only source of illumination that hung overhead.

The floor was painted in an unflattering shade of orange from the dim light, with several dark stains spattering the floor, blood if he was not mistaken. He tried to stand, only for severe pain to act as a cruel reminder of the state he was in, his feet and hands were tightly bound to the chair that he was sitting in.

Barts took a deep breath and grimaced 'Last time I take a job like this to pay a debt, specially if it's from that rat...' he thought.

Footsteps interrupted his train of thought. They were quiet at first, but slowly growing louder. He could not identify which direction they were coming from. Like the darkness, the footsteps seemed to go on forever, encroaching towards him, but stopping just outside his ring of safety.

By the time they reached their peak in volume, his breathing had already turned to heavy rasping and his heart hammered in his chest, he just wished for whatever was coming to appear already!

"Who's there?! Come the hell out where I can see you!" Although he was in pain, he just wanted it to end, it was maddening.

"For someone who's looking like a stain on the floor, you still got the lungs for hollering." A gravelly rasping chuckle made his hair stand on end. "I like when people can still scream, but don't do it again, or I'll make sure you don't." A gruff voice came from his left.

Barts turned his head to look at where the voice came from and his eyes widened as he took in man's appearance. His eyes traveled from the tree trunk legs covered in dyed K'iorn skin leather, the chest wider than three him across, and to the scar riddled face that was partially obscured by thick smoke billowing out of his mouth from an Earther cigar.

It was Boss Gremin. The envied, feared, and abhorred Pain Vampyr. One of the drug suppliers and 'politicians' of Neo Vargas. That he was here meant that the planted message had gotten into his hands, whether that was good or bad, Barts hadn't decided. But from the way that he was staring at him, the scale was tipping towards bad.

"So, you gonna open your trap and tell me why you aren't dead yet, or am I going to make you wish I hadn't come down here myself?" Gremin's voice dropped into a dangerously low tone.

Finding his voice, "Y=y-yeah, I was just getting to that. The guy that sent me, said his boss wanted to tell you that he wanted to arrange a little meeting between him and you. He wants to make a deal with ya."

Gremin walked forward and puffed foul smoke into his face, "This boss got a name?"

Barts sputtered for a moment before going on, "Yeah, guy said his name was Allon, he said you'd know it when ya heard it."

Gremin looked confused for a moment, then a grin broke out on his face that made Barts try to shirk away despite his bound state, "Is that so? Well, he got a place in mind?"

Barts nodded quickly, "Yeah, he wants to meet you at the bar, "Trick of the Light", April 6th, said the drinks were on him." He cringed as Gremin came closer into his personal space, "Well, I'll have to RSVP as soon as possible then, won't I?"

He began to sweat, "How ya gonna do that? He didn't tell me how to reach him." He screamed in pain when he felt Gremin's cigar being pressed on his leg, "Oh, I got ways kid."


Checking and unloading cargo from the Sacrenine Fine Arts Freighters for signs of the bastard was grunt work. Grunt work! That's what this was! Corporal Jamison wondered who he pissed off to get this gig. Four months since the bastard disappeared and not a single peep out of him.

He hefted a wooden crate that read fragile on the side before he jimmied it open so he could take a peek. The smell that wafted into his nostrils as the seal broke made him gag and he felt like he would hurl. Gasping for a quick breath and turning back to the crate, he peeked inside it to see a naked Earther male. The man was muttering gibberish to himself and shaking back and forth considerably.

On the various parts of his body were symbols carved into the flesh and Jamison felt a considerable amount of pity for the man. What they said he didn't know, but he snapped a few quick shots before resealing the box. He couldn't interfere, even if he wanted to. As he walked away to check more cargo, he muttered, "I don't get paid enough to do this crap."

Last edited by OrleosSacrenine on Sat Jan 14, 2012 8:22 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Not allowed to kill!)


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