Post by Lathel on Sept 5, 2005 21:25:49 GMT -5
Chapter 2: Shut-In
Kyle Lennings didn’t live that far from Carthy. Lennings was a known shut-in and he lived up to the title. Carthy wasn’t too fond of cars, so he put on his boots, pulled on his coat and loaded himself with the single nine millimeter he had been using for awhile. This was supposed to be a one-shot, one-kill kind of deal, but he didn’t know how honest that over-the-phone contract could’ve been. Walking on the side of the overpass, trying to dodge the idiot drivers as they passed furiously, he sighed and brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it with his old Zippo. Inhaling the supportive smoke, it just as quickly billowed out of his lungs and he continued on his way.
The shut-in’s house stood in-between a variety of similar small houses. He didn’t need to see the address on the house, the blue beat-up pickup in the driveway gave it away. Lennings was known for two things: getting involved in things way over his head, and his crappy blue pickup. He didn’t waste much time wondering what Lennings had done this time. He made his way across the street and into the shut-in’s backyard. Quiet with the exception of the cricket’s gentle, repetitive chirp, he took a moment to calm down and grab the gun from his coat pocket. Taking a good look at the gun that camouflaged in the darkness, he held the gun in its appropriate position and became comfortable with it before he made his way on to circle the house and figure out what he was going to do.
He circled around the house like a wary carousel. Picking up on things here and there that could help him pull this off as easy as a one-hit, one-kill should be. All of the lights were out in the house except for one bedroom. From that observation, he was sure that the front door was locked and that he was probably getting ready for bed. While it seemed to be a small detail, it was a very important one. He moved to the window next to the one that was belonged to Lenning’s room. Unexpectedly but fortunately, the window was open to let the fresh air in. The air conditioner was probably busted or he just didn’t feel like paying the bill. The window was protected by a screen which was screwed into the surrounding stucco. Unscrewing each screw with his fingers, he carefully placed the screen in the dead grass beneath him. Crawling into the window and landing on his feet inside the shut-in’s junk room, he readied the nine millimeter, exited the room, and waited outside the door of the room that belonged to Lenning.
His cold hand held his cold gun. With his finger on the trigger, he moved slowly towards the doorknob, holding off as long as possible. He had conflicts with himself before, but it was a little too late to reconsider anything. Turning the brass knob with his available left hand, he slowly opened the door. Creaking open slowly, a tidy room with a single bed came into view. Lenning’s wasn’t in sight, but there was a small bathroom in the room. Sneaking into the clean room, he briefly looked around before approaching the bathroom. Pacing himself to the bathroom, gun raised, Lenning’s emerged. Naked with the exception of his white briefs, he was startled when he caught a glimpse of Carthy and his gun. “J-Jesus Christ!” Lenning’s shrieked, stumbling backwards into the bathroom. He followed him.
The bathroom was as tidy as his bedroom. With clean towels hanging on the towel rack, the soap dispenser aligned with his toothbrush holder, and a clean sink, it gave the shut-in some credibility. Approaching his fallen target, he pointed the nine millimeter pistol at him and put his finger on the trigger. Before he could’ve pulled the trigger, Lenning’s screamed out. “Please, Carthy, please!” While it seemed that the shut-in was begging for his life, he wasn’t going to let that stop him from receiving his deserved paycheck. But as quickly as he avoided his target’s pleas, Lenning’s continued with his sobbing. “I-I’m not the one you want. Ask Brian, ask Brian!” He knew a couple people by that name. This was getting interesting, and interesting isn’t always a good thing. “Brian, Brian who?” asked Carthy, wanting to get to the bottom of the implied conspiracy.
Looking back and forth between Carthy and barrel of the gun pointed in his face, Lenning’s continued with his intriguing information. “Brian Evans.” The name was all-too familiar to him and too compelling for him to finish this job just yet. Without a word, he returned the sidearm to his coat pocket and walked away. Leaving the shut-in’s house through the window he came in from, he put up the screen he had taken down and put the screws back in place. There was something more behind this job than what his employer had let on. He had to find Brian Evans.
Comments are welcome.
Kyle Lennings didn’t live that far from Carthy. Lennings was a known shut-in and he lived up to the title. Carthy wasn’t too fond of cars, so he put on his boots, pulled on his coat and loaded himself with the single nine millimeter he had been using for awhile. This was supposed to be a one-shot, one-kill kind of deal, but he didn’t know how honest that over-the-phone contract could’ve been. Walking on the side of the overpass, trying to dodge the idiot drivers as they passed furiously, he sighed and brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it with his old Zippo. Inhaling the supportive smoke, it just as quickly billowed out of his lungs and he continued on his way.
The shut-in’s house stood in-between a variety of similar small houses. He didn’t need to see the address on the house, the blue beat-up pickup in the driveway gave it away. Lennings was known for two things: getting involved in things way over his head, and his crappy blue pickup. He didn’t waste much time wondering what Lennings had done this time. He made his way across the street and into the shut-in’s backyard. Quiet with the exception of the cricket’s gentle, repetitive chirp, he took a moment to calm down and grab the gun from his coat pocket. Taking a good look at the gun that camouflaged in the darkness, he held the gun in its appropriate position and became comfortable with it before he made his way on to circle the house and figure out what he was going to do.
He circled around the house like a wary carousel. Picking up on things here and there that could help him pull this off as easy as a one-hit, one-kill should be. All of the lights were out in the house except for one bedroom. From that observation, he was sure that the front door was locked and that he was probably getting ready for bed. While it seemed to be a small detail, it was a very important one. He moved to the window next to the one that was belonged to Lenning’s room. Unexpectedly but fortunately, the window was open to let the fresh air in. The air conditioner was probably busted or he just didn’t feel like paying the bill. The window was protected by a screen which was screwed into the surrounding stucco. Unscrewing each screw with his fingers, he carefully placed the screen in the dead grass beneath him. Crawling into the window and landing on his feet inside the shut-in’s junk room, he readied the nine millimeter, exited the room, and waited outside the door of the room that belonged to Lenning.
His cold hand held his cold gun. With his finger on the trigger, he moved slowly towards the doorknob, holding off as long as possible. He had conflicts with himself before, but it was a little too late to reconsider anything. Turning the brass knob with his available left hand, he slowly opened the door. Creaking open slowly, a tidy room with a single bed came into view. Lenning’s wasn’t in sight, but there was a small bathroom in the room. Sneaking into the clean room, he briefly looked around before approaching the bathroom. Pacing himself to the bathroom, gun raised, Lenning’s emerged. Naked with the exception of his white briefs, he was startled when he caught a glimpse of Carthy and his gun. “J-Jesus Christ!” Lenning’s shrieked, stumbling backwards into the bathroom. He followed him.
The bathroom was as tidy as his bedroom. With clean towels hanging on the towel rack, the soap dispenser aligned with his toothbrush holder, and a clean sink, it gave the shut-in some credibility. Approaching his fallen target, he pointed the nine millimeter pistol at him and put his finger on the trigger. Before he could’ve pulled the trigger, Lenning’s screamed out. “Please, Carthy, please!” While it seemed that the shut-in was begging for his life, he wasn’t going to let that stop him from receiving his deserved paycheck. But as quickly as he avoided his target’s pleas, Lenning’s continued with his sobbing. “I-I’m not the one you want. Ask Brian, ask Brian!” He knew a couple people by that name. This was getting interesting, and interesting isn’t always a good thing. “Brian, Brian who?” asked Carthy, wanting to get to the bottom of the implied conspiracy.
Looking back and forth between Carthy and barrel of the gun pointed in his face, Lenning’s continued with his intriguing information. “Brian Evans.” The name was all-too familiar to him and too compelling for him to finish this job just yet. Without a word, he returned the sidearm to his coat pocket and walked away. Leaving the shut-in’s house through the window he came in from, he put up the screen he had taken down and put the screws back in place. There was something more behind this job than what his employer had let on. He had to find Brian Evans.
Comments are welcome.
