Post by Mathew Amtrum on Nov 9, 2010 20:19:12 GMT -8
Roger crawled backwards through the mud, the pouring rain pelted him and the ground. Terror screamed from his eyes as he looked up at the figure approaching him. The combat boot slammed right in between Roger's legs, squishing in the soft ground. Mathew looked down at the man, a wicked gleam in his eyes as water poured down his face.
Roger was frantic, his hand felt something. A rock, a sharp rock. In an act of desperation he threw the rock at Mathew, and it struck home hard. The rock sliced open Mathew's face. The blood trickled out of the cut without so much as a wince from Mathew. For all his reaction he didn't even noticed the blood from the wound oozing down his face and mixing with the water. Instead he just smiled a chilling smile.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Roger you don't know me well do you? That won't slow me down. I can heal my injuries."
He said before a faint orange glow started to glow around him. It's hazy appearance seemed to shimmer despite the lack of sun. Roger would watch in horror as the cut on Mathew's face was healed, and he didn't stop there. Mathew wanted him to know that there was no injury he couldn't recover from, in another moment the old faded scar over his eye would thin before vanishing. Mathew was a new man, and Roger here was going to start a new day.
"Now listen Roger. I told you that this is only going to be as hard as you make it. I'm not asking, I'm telling you. We are going to use your warehouses. If you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with my complaint department."
With that Mathew reached behind his coat and pulled out the handgun that he had stolen from the dealer in his encounter with Roth. Mathew pointed the gun down at Roger who was now trying to crawl back further, stuttering and stammering that he would do what Mathew said, whatever he wanted.
"I know."
Mathew pulled the trigger, the sound of the gun firing rang out and Roger screamed certain that he was dead. His eyes clenched tight until he realized that he was not dead. Mathew had not shot him. Instead he had shot past him, the bullet was embedded in the ground. By the time that Roger opened his eyes again Mathew was gone. He got the promise he wanted from the man and fear would keep him in line. The Reapers now had a foothold. Or would have a foothold after he made a few prospects official members. It was going to be a brand new day in Long Beach.
Roger was frantic, his hand felt something. A rock, a sharp rock. In an act of desperation he threw the rock at Mathew, and it struck home hard. The rock sliced open Mathew's face. The blood trickled out of the cut without so much as a wince from Mathew. For all his reaction he didn't even noticed the blood from the wound oozing down his face and mixing with the water. Instead he just smiled a chilling smile.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Roger you don't know me well do you? That won't slow me down. I can heal my injuries."
He said before a faint orange glow started to glow around him. It's hazy appearance seemed to shimmer despite the lack of sun. Roger would watch in horror as the cut on Mathew's face was healed, and he didn't stop there. Mathew wanted him to know that there was no injury he couldn't recover from, in another moment the old faded scar over his eye would thin before vanishing. Mathew was a new man, and Roger here was going to start a new day.
"Now listen Roger. I told you that this is only going to be as hard as you make it. I'm not asking, I'm telling you. We are going to use your warehouses. If you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with my complaint department."
With that Mathew reached behind his coat and pulled out the handgun that he had stolen from the dealer in his encounter with Roth. Mathew pointed the gun down at Roger who was now trying to crawl back further, stuttering and stammering that he would do what Mathew said, whatever he wanted.
"I know."
Mathew pulled the trigger, the sound of the gun firing rang out and Roger screamed certain that he was dead. His eyes clenched tight until he realized that he was not dead. Mathew had not shot him. Instead he had shot past him, the bullet was embedded in the ground. By the time that Roger opened his eyes again Mathew was gone. He got the promise he wanted from the man and fear would keep him in line. The Reapers now had a foothold. Or would have a foothold after he made a few prospects official members. It was going to be a brand new day in Long Beach.