Fan Fiction ❯ Payback's a Bitch ❯ Johnny Boy ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
*******************************CHAPTER 1 Watch your back ****************************
“Shhh! They can hear us!” he snarled in a hoarse whisper to the enormous group of men gathered in the room. It suddenly got deafly silent. The ceiling above the men began to groan and everyone’s attention was focused above. “Shoot god damn it, what do you think I’m paying you for!” a plump bald man growled from the center of the group. All hell broke loose as everyone unceremoniously opened fire on the ceiling above them.
As ammunition became short they stopped their assault. “Did we get them?!” one man asked timidly. The balding Mr. Jacobs rose from his seat sweating like a pig staring upwards. After a moment of silence he gave an arrogant smirk, “well, that’s the end of that,” he turned around. “I’m no longer in need of your services gentlemen, now if you’ll excuse me,” he started. From behind him was a loud explosion as the ceiling fell through. There were screams and guns being shot with a continuous flow of bullets flying everywhere. Moments later, it was quiet again. It was like a tornado had hit the room, and was gone as soon as it had came.
Mr. Jacobs sat crouched on the ground with his arms over his head whimpering. He timidly lifted his head up and looked around. “What the hell,” he whispered. The room was covered in bullet holes, all of the furniture was turned over and blood was everywhere.
“Hello Johnny,” said a soft feminine voice. His eyes widened with fear. “No, please no!!! Don’t kill me please!!! Get away! Stay away from me!” he screamed as she approached him. “Is this how you treat an old friend Johnny?” “Leave me alone! Please who are you! What do you want?!” She continued to approach him stepping over bodies and limbs as she went. “Johnny boy,” she whispered in a sing - song voice. She crouched down next to him causing him to flinch. “Please,” he whispered, “I can pay you, just don’t hurt me.” He was full out crying now. She smiled kindly at him. “Remember... incito tempus.” His eyes widened in realization. Before he could say anything though, his head was sent rolling across the room. She idly walked over to the severed head. It still had the same look of dumb realization on it. “Surprised I see,” she whispered smirking.
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“Claudia Phillips here for Channel 7, with your noon news. I’m here at the scene of what appears to be yet another massacre. This time we’re at Johnny Jacobs’s mansion in Miami Florida. Inside is a grotesque sight. Witnesses say that Johnny Jacobs, a powerful business man here in the U.S., feared for his life so he barricaded himself inside his home and hired 60 of the best guns men around to guard him. He had numerous other security enhancements made to his home including barbed wire and guard dogs. Officials aren’t saying much about this particular situation but they are saying that it happened at approximately one a.m. early this morning. And also that there is definitely a link between this case and 3 others just like it involving other powerful business men across the U.S.
Mark Stewards, Zackery Larkson, and Anthony Edwards all met eerily similar deaths; with their heads severed from their bodies and the heads themselves still haven’t been found. If you’ll remember, Channel 7 News covered each of these stories which have occurred over the last 3 weeks. What we have on our hands here is a mass murderer and even though the officials say that they’re getting closer to catching the perpetrator, many are starting to think that they’re no closer now then they were 3 weeks ago. Again this is Claudia Phillips with Channel 7 news, back to you in the studio.”
“Very nice Fay,” he whispered turning off the television temporarily plunging the pair into darkness. “The story is spreading like wildfire just like we planned,” he said twirling his glass of red wine. The lights above flickered to life. He turned around in his swivel chair and stared at her in her seat across the room. She had her feet propped up on the round table in front of her with her hands clasped in her lap. She had on black boots with black baggy pants that were held loosely around her hips with a black and silver belt, which also held, up her sword. She wore a black muscle tank top with silver bangles around her upper arm on both sides. Her long black hair ran down her back and her purple eyes that normally shone brightly looked rather dull at the moment as she stared blankly at the wall.
He frowned slightly. “Fay, what’s the matter?” She suddenly snapped out of her trance. “I’m fine Sir,” she replied. He took a moment to look her over. His frown deepened. “Your not satisfied yet are you?” he asked. She looked over at him. “No, not yet,” she answered. “Didn’t think so,” he whispered turning back to his computer where he started typing. She leaned back in her chair once again getting lost in her thoughts. ‘No... not yet’ she thought.
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“What I want to know is who the hell has a death wish out for us!” he snarled pounding his chubby fist onto the table. “Whoever it is obviously knows about our society because they’ve already gotten to 4 of our members. Honestly how much more of this can we take!? In a year tops they’ll have all of our heads mounted on their wall as trophies!” he yelled furiously.
“Calm down Michaels, we just have to sit down and figure this out. Why do you think that I called this meeting?” “Tell me, who the hell made you our leader huh? You think that just because Lee’s out of the picture you can just jump in and take over?” “I am Lee’s successor, so yes. Now I suggest that you sit your fat ass down and shut up Michaels, or do you need some persuasion?” Michaels upper lip quivered slightly. Something that you might expect from a 3 year old. He looked around at the other men and seeing that they were going to be of no help, quietly took his seat.
“Now then,” the tall muscular man said. He had sandy brown hair shaved close to his scalp and had a clean- face with hazel eyes. “I have taken over the society in the development of Lee’s sudden... disappearance. I trust that you’ll find me to be a worthy leader for the New Order. I’ve analyzed this situation and as of this moment, we have 27 members because four have been disposed of and Lee is otherwise gone.
Whoever has organized these murders obviously has extensive knowledge of the society. They seem to be moving up in rank through the members. First they killed Zackery Larkson on his boathouse off the coast of northern California.” A map popped up on a screen over Pierdont’s right shoulder followed by images from the boathouse. “This happened on March 2. Next,” he continued “is Anthony Edwards. He was killed in his cabin near Colorado Springs.” Another map of the area and the scene popped up. “This occurred on March 14. Mark Stewards is next. He was killed in his penthouse in New York City. This one was on March 19.” Some of the men cringed from the images on the screen. “Now, Johnny Jacobs is the latest victim. This happened on March 23... last night.” “My god,” Michaels whispered as the images popped up.
“Now if you’ll notice, they were killed in ascending order in rank,” Pierdont announced. They all looked at the screen that had popped up over his left shoulder as the names of the four men were crossed off from the list. Then finally to the name that was above the last entries. All eyes were on the aging man at the end of the table. “You mean --” he began. Pierdont nodded, “your next Quinn.”
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The florescent lights flickered over the dimly lit room. It didn’t bother the person currently occupying the room for he was too enveloped in his thoughts. He suddenly got very frustrated. “God damn it! Where’s the pattern?! I know that there’s one here so why can’t I find it?!” he yelled. “If all you do is sit there and stare at pictures on the wall the entire time Mike, it’s not going to get you anywhere,” she said in a sympathetic voice to the man on the floor. “Anyways,” she continued when she got no reply, “I’m out Mike. It’s too late for me. Besides I promised Nick that I wouldn’t pull anymore all-nighters over this case. Try not to stay here too late all right,” she said as she grabbed her jacket and headed up the stairs out of the basement.
He sat on the cold cement floor contemplating what he should do next. He closed his eyes and laid his head on his knees from his place on the wall. He took a deep breath to calm himself and ran his hands through his brown spiked hair. He hadn’t shaved in days which was apparent from the stubble on his light olive skin. He’d been here a total of four days, working this case. If it weren’t for Jane, he probably would have starved himself.
He had long ago discarded his tie which lay on top of one of the filing cabinets. It was his favorite one actually, a brilliant blue, the same color of his eyes. He had thought that maybe it would bring him some luck. His white dress shirt had the top three buttons undone. His black jacket made of the same material as his pants was carelessly discarded into the corner. It had been an expensive suit, but Mike Komik could really care less at this moment. He ran over the facts in his head once more. Four powerful business who all had ties to the same foreign countries, but didn’t seem to know each other. They were all killed at or around 1 a.m. They all had their heads severed from their bodies and they still haven’t been found.
He opened his eyes and stood up. “And this,” he whispered staring at the object in the plastic bag on the wall. “All four of them had one,” he whispered. An iron chain connected to a pendant made of gold. It was about the size and shape of a half-dollar. It had numerous figures entwined together with no distinctive characteristics that could be made out. He took the bag down from the wall and emptied it into his hand. He held it up to the light and inspected it. He squinted momentarily. “What the hell?” he whispered. He ran over to his desk and grabbed his magnifying glass and scribbled down the letters that he found on the back of the pendant.
Novus lubeo.
~Death’s Obsession
“Shhh! They can hear us!” he snarled in a hoarse whisper to the enormous group of men gathered in the room. It suddenly got deafly silent. The ceiling above the men began to groan and everyone’s attention was focused above. “Shoot god damn it, what do you think I’m paying you for!” a plump bald man growled from the center of the group. All hell broke loose as everyone unceremoniously opened fire on the ceiling above them.
As ammunition became short they stopped their assault. “Did we get them?!” one man asked timidly. The balding Mr. Jacobs rose from his seat sweating like a pig staring upwards. After a moment of silence he gave an arrogant smirk, “well, that’s the end of that,” he turned around. “I’m no longer in need of your services gentlemen, now if you’ll excuse me,” he started. From behind him was a loud explosion as the ceiling fell through. There were screams and guns being shot with a continuous flow of bullets flying everywhere. Moments later, it was quiet again. It was like a tornado had hit the room, and was gone as soon as it had came.
Mr. Jacobs sat crouched on the ground with his arms over his head whimpering. He timidly lifted his head up and looked around. “What the hell,” he whispered. The room was covered in bullet holes, all of the furniture was turned over and blood was everywhere.
“Hello Johnny,” said a soft feminine voice. His eyes widened with fear. “No, please no!!! Don’t kill me please!!! Get away! Stay away from me!” he screamed as she approached him. “Is this how you treat an old friend Johnny?” “Leave me alone! Please who are you! What do you want?!” She continued to approach him stepping over bodies and limbs as she went. “Johnny boy,” she whispered in a sing - song voice. She crouched down next to him causing him to flinch. “Please,” he whispered, “I can pay you, just don’t hurt me.” He was full out crying now. She smiled kindly at him. “Remember... incito tempus.” His eyes widened in realization. Before he could say anything though, his head was sent rolling across the room. She idly walked over to the severed head. It still had the same look of dumb realization on it. “Surprised I see,” she whispered smirking.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< ;<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<&l t;<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<& lt;<
“Claudia Phillips here for Channel 7, with your noon news. I’m here at the scene of what appears to be yet another massacre. This time we’re at Johnny Jacobs’s mansion in Miami Florida. Inside is a grotesque sight. Witnesses say that Johnny Jacobs, a powerful business man here in the U.S., feared for his life so he barricaded himself inside his home and hired 60 of the best guns men around to guard him. He had numerous other security enhancements made to his home including barbed wire and guard dogs. Officials aren’t saying much about this particular situation but they are saying that it happened at approximately one a.m. early this morning. And also that there is definitely a link between this case and 3 others just like it involving other powerful business men across the U.S.
Mark Stewards, Zackery Larkson, and Anthony Edwards all met eerily similar deaths; with their heads severed from their bodies and the heads themselves still haven’t been found. If you’ll remember, Channel 7 News covered each of these stories which have occurred over the last 3 weeks. What we have on our hands here is a mass murderer and even though the officials say that they’re getting closer to catching the perpetrator, many are starting to think that they’re no closer now then they were 3 weeks ago. Again this is Claudia Phillips with Channel 7 news, back to you in the studio.”
“Very nice Fay,” he whispered turning off the television temporarily plunging the pair into darkness. “The story is spreading like wildfire just like we planned,” he said twirling his glass of red wine. The lights above flickered to life. He turned around in his swivel chair and stared at her in her seat across the room. She had her feet propped up on the round table in front of her with her hands clasped in her lap. She had on black boots with black baggy pants that were held loosely around her hips with a black and silver belt, which also held, up her sword. She wore a black muscle tank top with silver bangles around her upper arm on both sides. Her long black hair ran down her back and her purple eyes that normally shone brightly looked rather dull at the moment as she stared blankly at the wall.
He frowned slightly. “Fay, what’s the matter?” She suddenly snapped out of her trance. “I’m fine Sir,” she replied. He took a moment to look her over. His frown deepened. “Your not satisfied yet are you?” he asked. She looked over at him. “No, not yet,” she answered. “Didn’t think so,” he whispered turning back to his computer where he started typing. She leaned back in her chair once again getting lost in her thoughts. ‘No... not yet’ she thought.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ;>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>&g t;>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>& gt;>
“What I want to know is who the hell has a death wish out for us!” he snarled pounding his chubby fist onto the table. “Whoever it is obviously knows about our society because they’ve already gotten to 4 of our members. Honestly how much more of this can we take!? In a year tops they’ll have all of our heads mounted on their wall as trophies!” he yelled furiously.
“Calm down Michaels, we just have to sit down and figure this out. Why do you think that I called this meeting?” “Tell me, who the hell made you our leader huh? You think that just because Lee’s out of the picture you can just jump in and take over?” “I am Lee’s successor, so yes. Now I suggest that you sit your fat ass down and shut up Michaels, or do you need some persuasion?” Michaels upper lip quivered slightly. Something that you might expect from a 3 year old. He looked around at the other men and seeing that they were going to be of no help, quietly took his seat.
“Now then,” the tall muscular man said. He had sandy brown hair shaved close to his scalp and had a clean- face with hazel eyes. “I have taken over the society in the development of Lee’s sudden... disappearance. I trust that you’ll find me to be a worthy leader for the New Order. I’ve analyzed this situation and as of this moment, we have 27 members because four have been disposed of and Lee is otherwise gone.
Whoever has organized these murders obviously has extensive knowledge of the society. They seem to be moving up in rank through the members. First they killed Zackery Larkson on his boathouse off the coast of northern California.” A map popped up on a screen over Pierdont’s right shoulder followed by images from the boathouse. “This happened on March 2. Next,” he continued “is Anthony Edwards. He was killed in his cabin near Colorado Springs.” Another map of the area and the scene popped up. “This occurred on March 14. Mark Stewards is next. He was killed in his penthouse in New York City. This one was on March 19.” Some of the men cringed from the images on the screen. “Now, Johnny Jacobs is the latest victim. This happened on March 23... last night.” “My god,” Michaels whispered as the images popped up.
“Now if you’ll notice, they were killed in ascending order in rank,” Pierdont announced. They all looked at the screen that had popped up over his left shoulder as the names of the four men were crossed off from the list. Then finally to the name that was above the last entries. All eyes were on the aging man at the end of the table. “You mean --” he began. Pierdont nodded, “your next Quinn.”
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< ;<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<&l t;<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<& lt;<
The florescent lights flickered over the dimly lit room. It didn’t bother the person currently occupying the room for he was too enveloped in his thoughts. He suddenly got very frustrated. “God damn it! Where’s the pattern?! I know that there’s one here so why can’t I find it?!” he yelled. “If all you do is sit there and stare at pictures on the wall the entire time Mike, it’s not going to get you anywhere,” she said in a sympathetic voice to the man on the floor. “Anyways,” she continued when she got no reply, “I’m out Mike. It’s too late for me. Besides I promised Nick that I wouldn’t pull anymore all-nighters over this case. Try not to stay here too late all right,” she said as she grabbed her jacket and headed up the stairs out of the basement.
He sat on the cold cement floor contemplating what he should do next. He closed his eyes and laid his head on his knees from his place on the wall. He took a deep breath to calm himself and ran his hands through his brown spiked hair. He hadn’t shaved in days which was apparent from the stubble on his light olive skin. He’d been here a total of four days, working this case. If it weren’t for Jane, he probably would have starved himself.
He had long ago discarded his tie which lay on top of one of the filing cabinets. It was his favorite one actually, a brilliant blue, the same color of his eyes. He had thought that maybe it would bring him some luck. His white dress shirt had the top three buttons undone. His black jacket made of the same material as his pants was carelessly discarded into the corner. It had been an expensive suit, but Mike Komik could really care less at this moment. He ran over the facts in his head once more. Four powerful business who all had ties to the same foreign countries, but didn’t seem to know each other. They were all killed at or around 1 a.m. They all had their heads severed from their bodies and they still haven’t been found.
He opened his eyes and stood up. “And this,” he whispered staring at the object in the plastic bag on the wall. “All four of them had one,” he whispered. An iron chain connected to a pendant made of gold. It was about the size and shape of a half-dollar. It had numerous figures entwined together with no distinctive characteristics that could be made out. He took the bag down from the wall and emptied it into his hand. He held it up to the light and inspected it. He squinted momentarily. “What the hell?” he whispered. He ran over to his desk and grabbed his magnifying glass and scribbled down the letters that he found on the back of the pendant.
Novus lubeo.
~Death’s Obsession