Pretear Fan Fiction ❯ Manhunt: Blood Work ❯ Reunion ( Chapter 8 )

Chapter Eight: Reunion

(November 26th, 12:07am)

Jon crept through the zoo at a wonderfully brisk pace. Any thing he saw... WHAM! Headshot. Normally, he would have taken his time with these things...Dispatched them real slow-like. Sadly though, he had other plans. He would simply find the other three (Assuming of course, that they hadn't become pavement meat yet), and act as if he was just some guy caught up in all this... Which, by all technicalities he was, but those in his position probably weren't supposed to enjoy said position. He enjoyed lots of positions, tee-hee. Another thought clunking about his sewer-like mind. It occurred to him how ironic it was that somebody convicted of sexual assault such as himself, a rapist if you will, preferred woman-on-top positions over anything. Well, no matter, back to his plotting. The idea was that when the trio least suspected it, he would go about slaying the two men, and then he could merrily proceed to have his way with the female.

It would be a fun, fun night. Yessiree. So far it was good, but he was hoping for even more good times. The sort of times one could make bar sing-a-longs about. At this point, the thrilling beat of frenzied screaming brushed by his ears. Resisting the urge to throw down and boogie, he perked up and paid attention to detail. Animal screaming it turned out to be, and lo and behold; upon rounding the next corner he saw several of those monkey-things bashing against a steadfast, and most certainly closed, sort of gate. He lifted his gun elegantly, and fired off four happy rounds, amounting into four equally pleasing, cranium-splitting headshots.

They slumped onto the floor, and he leisurely approached the fresh corpses. Brain and bone were indeed everywhere, but truly he cared not. He simply gazed upon at the gate, and soon to greet his ears was a pleasant buzzing sound. He touched the gate, grasped a bar, and pulled gently. It opened. Well how about that, seemed it would only open when it wanted to, and it seemed to dislike apes. This gate found itself on his personal badass list. For if a gate is as racist as he is, then it's truly a homy. Well, come to think of it, technically nothing he did was racist considering he hated everybody equally.

But of course, it could just be that someone decided to open it for him, but he didn't want to think that. Certainly not, it was just more fun the other way. Gave that gate some personality.

He began to walk down the path, and then rather abruptly halted. The fellow waited, and listened to what could possibly be something useful. There was just the slightest HINT of noise coming from ahead... Fuckin' beautiful... They might have came this way. He started jogging, but then realized it would look rather awkward.

Seconds later, he came up with a plan. He messed up his hair a bit with the aid of bloodied hands, and drew his switchblade in order to jam the thing into his left calf. Lordy lord almighty, it hurt so good! He found himself resisting the urge to chuckle, as the man had always found humor in all pain, including his own- would be hypocritical any other way, no? He then went on to slash his face but once, and ripped his up shirt a wee bit. He then ran to the best of his ability, which was significantly less than it was previously now that there was metal within his musculature.

Vincent was the first to hear it. He turned around.

Hiro: "Yeah, I definitely think we should ice that motherfu-"

Vince: "Shh! I thought I heard something!"

They stopped talking, and listened closely. It sounded like something was coming towards them. Fast. The Monkiez...That was the only explanation...

Vince drew his .38, while Hiro prepared the Glock. They aimed down the passageway, and were ready for anything...

Except for a man who looked like hell. They lowered their guns as the man drew nearer.

Jon: "Oh! Thank fucking god! Thank you Jesus!"

He ran up to them, and then doubled over. He was breathing heavily, and sounded like he was out of breath. Sweat dripped from his face onto the ground, along with a bit of blood. He was approximately 5'9", and had a wiry-but-muscular sort of build to him. He had rather short, light red hair, and had baggy black clothing which was stained with sticky crimson patches, and ripped in a few places. He stood upright, and smiled in relief.

Jon: "Thank god! I thought I was a goner for sure! What the hell were those things?! They acted like fuckin' animals!"

Hiro: "Clam down man. You're all right now. Nothing is gonna get you here."

Vince: "Yeah. You're safe now... Unless those things are running right behind you. Are they?"

Jon: "Huh? No. Not that I know of." He panted. Secretly telling himself not to bust up and start laughing at the entire charade; but a true actor never does that, and so neither shall he. A firm resolution.

Heather: "Well, it's good you're safe..."

Jon looked at Heather for the first time, and was truly awestruck. He didn't display this shock, however. But man... A VERY fine fucking piece of meat. He couldn't wait to get his dick in that. Or his knife. Whichever came first, the order didn't matter.

Jon: "Aye. That it is, lass. That it is."

Vince: "So who are you?"

Jon: "My name is Jim Gray, but everyone calls me Gray, and I'd prefer it if you guys did too."

Heather: "Nice to meet you. I'm Heather Lockley."

Hiro: "I'm Hiro Yamada."

Vince: "And I'm Vincent McNeil."

Jon: "So does anyone know what the fuck is going on here? One moment I'm coming home from work, and the next minute I'm here. I don't remember how I got here, and all I know is that a bunch of people are trying rather effectively to kill me."

Hiro: "Well, you are right now in the very fucked-up, nightmarish Carcer City... The one who put you, and the rest of us here is a sick bastard named Lionel Starkweather, who gets his kicks on watching people die."

Jon: "Oh that's fucking great, man!" Feigned frustration, not as if they knew that.

Vince: "How the hell do you know so much about this guy?"

Hiro: "Well, about a year ago we suspected Starkweather of having some type of snuff films due to his movies. They were critically acclaimed, and ranked in big at the box office, but something didn't stick right... The deaths in them seemed to damn creative. So vile, and disgusting." He stated this calmly, yet it was clear that as he was telling this story, that he was disgusted. He hated Starkweather down to his core. "We've been working for a long while on finding people who own snuff films, and arresting them. Due to that, we end up seeing a lot of snuff films. And it seemed that despite he wasn't using real people dying, a lot of the deaths seemed like they were based off of these films. So, we did some research by looking at the things, which were in evidence, and sure enough: A lot of the deaths in his movies were scene for scene remakes of snuff films. So, we got a warrant and had an undercover agent sneak into his estate. After about a month or two, she found some films and we were able to get him for possession. However, he got off and didn't do anytime. But we did ruin his career. This would have been good enough, but we wanted to nail the bastard good."

Heather: "God..."

Jon: "He should have got the maximum sentence."

He looked as if he cared, but he really didn't. As long as he was able to meet this prick and kill him, that is all that mattered. Sad to see somebody with such organizational skills go to waste, but… Eh.

Vince: "So that's where you came in?"

Hiro: "Yeah. I went in undercover to try to get some more evidence and nail him again for possession."

Starkweather's voice seemed to come in as if he was next to them, but that of course was due to the beauty of the ear buds.

Starkweather: "And soon after I found out who the fuck you were, and drugged you and brought you to my own little Hollywood to make you a movie star."

Hiro: "Fuck you! Your gonna go down for this you fucking asshole!"

Vince: "I swear I want to kill this fuck more and more."

Jon now realized who the voice was... Earlier, someone was giving him orders to kill people. He really didn't need them, and thought he was just becoming one of those stereotypical crazies who get voices in their noggins. But now it made some sense.

Heather: "How could you?! Why?!"

Starkweather: "Because its oh-so-much fun!" He giggles with joy at this.

Hiro: "Motherfucker..."

Starkweather: "Anyways, I want you all to keep heading down the path, and continue north."

Vince: "Why the hell should we? Huh?!"

Starkweather: "Well, I just thought you'd like to know that some Monkiez are heading towards the gate, and the door is broken and wont shut. They will be in this tunnel within the next three minutes, and if you don't go now, will be upon you five minutes after that. Now, to prevent them from spreading, I'm going to seal off the exit in seven minutes, so if you aren't out of this tunnel in seven minutes or less, you will die."

Heather: "NO!"

Vince: "GODDAMNIT!"

Hiro: "Sonova bitch!"

Oh, how fucking peachy, Jon thought. What a work out... He was suddenly regretting that self-shanking he performed on his leg. But on the bright side... Miss Lockley's comely breasts bouncing as she runs for her life. The two factors broke even nicely.

Starkweather: "Well... Toodles!"

Vince: "WAIT!"

Again, he was gone.

Starkweather: "You really think you fooled them, didn't you Jon?"

Jon didn't say anything. It seemed the others didn't know he could hear Starkweather. They began to run, and so he followed. Conveniently catching up to Lockley's side, as to get a better view.

Starkweather: "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me... As long as you kill some things, and promise to kill Hiro and Vince when I say so... Understood?"

Jon nodded as he ran.

Starkweather: "Beautiful... And I assume you would like to have your way with Miss Lockley?"

Jon nodded again.

Starkweather: "Consider it done."

The voice was gone, and Jon smiled... Even though Starkweather was an ass for putting him here, he did have some good traits. He respected the art of killing and raping and such, and that instantly gave him a slight edge on all the other asses he knew. He still had full intent on killing him when the chance presented himself, but he would feel a bit guilty for killing such an avid fan of death... Well, no, not really. The irony would make it all oh-so-worthwhile.

(Next- Bombs Away)