Ten Little Criminals
Carl's Day
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He sat down at the booth in the back, cigar in his mouth. He grabbed two napkins out of the holder at the edge of the table, and placed them side by side perfectly in the center of the table. Carl took a sip of the coffee in his hand, and stood up from the stool. He casually walked towards the booth, holding the coffee cup up to his chest to keep it from spilling. As he sat down in the booth, the other man pulled a menu out from behind the ketchup.
"You must be the guy Big Doug sent." The man stated, looking down the menu.
"And you must be Kilroy. Doug said you'd put the napkins on the table, says it's your signal." Carl replied, leaning back against the booth seat.
The waitress walked up, pulling a pen out of the pocket in her apron. She began tapping the pen on the edge of the pad in her hand, waiting for the orders. Kilroy closed his menu, and dropped it down on the table.
"I'll get a slice of apple pie, and a cup of coffee." Kilroy ordered, his eyes hiding behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
The two men sat quietly in the booth for a few seconds as the waitress finished filling out the pad. As she walked away, Kilroy reached into his long coat and pulled out a manilla package. His eyes quickly glanced around the room, and his hands dropped underneat the table. Carl reached under, and grabbed the package, slowly pulling it back to him.
"Inside you'll find the necessary documents. Do not open it here. You're working for me now, not Big Doug, so you'll have a few new rules to follow. One, do not try to contact me, I will contact you when needed. Two, you will speak to no one about the job, even me. If anyone asks you about it, you will act as if there's no such thing. Three, do not trust anyone. I will be sending no one to help you on this mission, so if anyone claiming to be working for me comes to speak to you, you will avoid them. Understood?" Kilroy explained, his voice barely a whisper.
"I got it." Carl calmly replied.
"I've reserved a hotel room across the street for you under the name 'Harris Gall'. When in your room, feel free to open the package. You'll have 24 hours to do the job, and then you will come back here at exactly 3:30 tomorrow afternoon. If you're a minute late, you will not be paid. If you happen to fail the mission, or you do not complete it within 24 hours, you will burn the contents of the package, and we will never see each other again. Is this understood?"Kilroy continued to explain.
"Yeah, I understand." Carl spoke back, his hands underneath the table slipping the package in his coat.
"Good. Consider your mission to officialy start now."Kilroy finished, sliding his glasses back on his face.
Carl took a finishing sip of his coffee, and stood up from the booth. He gave a slight nod of the head to Kilroy, and walked up to the front counter. The waitress punched in the price of his coffee, and asked for the money. He slipped a five across the counter, and give the waitress a wink. He walked towards the door, and looked back into the corner booth. Kilroy was gone, a plate of steaming apple pie sitting on the tabletop.
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Across the street, Carl pushed open the doors for The Vice City Victorian, one of the greatest hotels in the city. As he walked into the lobby, the smell of money hit his face hard. The room was full of rich, all of them sitting around talking with each other, their huge wallets in their pockets rich with the scent of currency. Carl pushed his way through the crowd, being as rude as he possibly could to the snobbish tycoons. He flashed a quick smile as he reached the counter, a clerk on the other side replied with an uncomfortable nod of the head.
"Hi there. I'm here to pick up a key for the room I reserved, the name's Harris Gall." Carl calmly lied.
"Uh...I'm sorry Mr...Gall, but I just gave the key to your room to another fellow claiming to be Harris Gall a few minutes ago."
"What?!" Carl's calmness disappeared as he shouted at the clerk.
"I'm sorry sir. I'll call the manager right away." The clerk shyly spoke, reaching for the phone.
"You know what, that's quite alright. I think I'll just go up to the room myself. Who knows? It might just be a harmless mixup."Carl replied, trying to hide the anger in his voice. "Would you mind telling me which room it is?"
"Room 74 Mr. Gall, 8th floor. You can take the elevator if you'd like, it's just over there past the dining room."The clerk reached over the counter and pointed to the elevator. "Please accept my sincere apologies about the key mixup before, the man claimed to be Harris Gall, I should've checked for I.D."
"It's no problem, really. In fact, if you want to repay me, you could do something right now. Would you mind having a taxi waiting for me when I leave in about fifteen minutes?" Carl asked, beginning to slowly walk away.
"Absolutely sir, it's the least the hotel could do." The clerk quickly replied, picking up the phone to call a taxi.
Carl pushed the button for the 8th floor as he reached the elevator. A loup beep sounded from the doors, and they slid open. He walked inside, and the doors once again slid shut behind him. The elevator was empty, exactly what he needed. He casually reached into his jacket, and pulled out a small handgun from within. Whoever was in his room was not Harris Gall, and they probably weren't looking for a minibar. The doors slid open once more, and Carl carefully walked out, concealing his gun in the palm of his hand. Room 74 was across from the elevator, only a few metres away. Carl slowly began to walk towards it, cautious of what was waiting on the other side. He propped against the door, and grabbed the doorknob. He spun it once, it clicked and the door opened. He slowly backed into the door, as quietly as possible. The room was dark, the only light coming from a neon sign outside the window.
"Who the fuck is in here?" Carl yelled into the dark room, his gun drawn ahead of him.
There was a small rusling sound from the back of the room. Without thinking, Carl fired three shots in the general direction. There was a loud shriek, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Carl took a few steps into the room, looking for any signs of movement. He raised his gun into the air and fired. There was another shriek, and the lights were suddenly turned on. A young girl was lying on the ground near the bed, shivering in fear. The window behind her now shards of glass stuck in the carpet of the floor.
"Who are you?" Carl asked her, picking her up by the wrist.
The girl began to sob, shivering in fear. "P-Please don't hurt me."
Carl sighed, and lowered his gun. "Well, I won't hurt you if you tell me who let you in here? Where's the guy claiming to be Harris Gall?"
"I-In the bathroom..."She pointed to the door, still crying.
Carl turned his head, he could see the closed bathroom door, a light emitting from under the door frame. He raised his gun once again, and turned towards the door. As he inched towards it, the girl behind him stopped sobbing. He pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear any signs of life. Behind him, the girl started grinning. Carl lowered his hand and grasped the doorhandle, slowly turning it. Behind him, the girl raised the lamp over her head, and dropped it on his head.
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His eyes flicked open. It was black. Nothing but shadows surrounded him. His head was throbbing, and it felt like he hadn't had a drink of water in months. His hands were tied behind his head, his feet were handcuffed together, the tight metal of his cuffs cutting off any circulation. He tried to speak, but a dry cloth was jammed down his throat, preventing anything but slight groans to emit from his mouth.
"Don't try to move Mr.Gall, you'll just stop the blood flow more." A voice spoke from the shadows.
Carl began to squirm, just trying to make sure he was still alive. He let out a loud groan, trying to scream for help.
"Relax Mr.Gall, the situation is not as dire as it seems. If you cooperate, you will be make in your mansion by the end of the day."The man cleared his throat, and began to circle around Carl. "Now, I'm going to remove the cloth jammed in your throat. Do not scream, do not talk, do not make any noise or I will shoot you. You will answer when I ask a question, and that is it."
Something grabbed hold of the end of the cloth and ripped it out of Carl's throat. Carl bit his upper lip to stop from screaming, tears of fear beginning to drip down the side of his face. He couldn't remember the last time he was scared.
"Now, Mr. Gall, I suppose you already now the reason I brought you here." The man spoke quickly, Carl could detect a slight british accent.
"Execuse me for butting in, but I'm not Harris Gall. That's just a fake name I'm using while I'm at the hotel." Carl panted, his throat begging for a liquid.
"Don't play fucking dumb with me Mr.Gall, I know who you fucking are. I was told someone with your exact description was going to check into that exact room. Unless my source was wrong, which they never are, you are Harris Gall." The man screamed back, his british accent more apparent.
Carl began to fidget, trying to get his hand into his pocket. "Look at my ID, it'll say I'm Carl Brannings. Please, just look!"
The room went quiet for a few seconds. Carl could hear the man standing there, tapping his shoe on the floor. There was a brief pause of total silence, and then the lights in the room turned on. Carl got a glimpse of the man in front of him. He was a tall man in a completely dark suit. He had slicked back black hair, and a beard that made him look like Hans Gruber. The man grabbed Carl by the neck, and hoisted him up with incredible strength. Within seconds, he was searching through Carl's pockets, looking for his wallet. Instead, he pulled out the manilla package.
"Hello, what do we have here?"The man spoke as he held the package into the light.
The man reached into his suit jacket, and pulled out a small switchblade. He jammed it into the thin paper of the package, and ripped a hole in the side of it. His hand reached in, and pulled out a thin piece of paper. The man held it up to his face, staring at it with a blank stare.
"What the fuck is this?"The man began to shout, throwing the paper to the ground. "Is this a fucking joke?"
Carl couldn't respond, he hadn't seen what the paper had shown. It lay on the floor in front of him, upside down.
"I-I don't know what was on it, I just recieved from a source a few minutes before you kidnapped me."Carl cried back to the man, struggling to get free.
The man sighed angirly, and began to nervously pace around the room. He quietely mumbled to himself, a look of worry spread across his face.
"Your source, who is he?"The man demanded, turning his attention to Carl.
"I-I can't say. He'll kill me."Carl responded, finally deciding to stop struggling.
"He'll kill you? I'll fucking kill you! Tell me who he is!"The man screamed, reaching into his coat.
The man brandished a gun, holding it up into the light. He clicked the safety back, and lowered the gun to Carl's head. "Tell me who the source is, and I won't paint the walls with your fucking brain."
Carl thought for a second. He didn't have much of a choice. He had to tell him. "His name's Kilroy. I'm not really sure who he is, but he gave me a job. I was to kill the man who's mentioned inside the package. That's all I know, honest." Carl squealed, closing his eyes to avoid the gun.
Carl couldn't see, but he could hear the man laugh. At first it was just a slight chuckle, but soon it erupted into hysterics. The man howled with laughter, but still managing to keep the gun close to Carl's head.
"You know what's funny? You were sent to kill someone, and you end up getting killed yourself. That, I find, is the height of irony." The man chuckled, finally ending his laugh.
He jammed the gun against Carl's head, Carl screamed for mercy. The man pulled the trigger, and the bullet erupted out of the gun. It flew through Carl's skull, and managed to exit the other side, flying into the wall. Carl's lifeless body fell to the ground, as blood poured out of the wound in his head.
Carl's Day
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He sat down at the booth in the back, cigar in his mouth. He grabbed two napkins out of the holder at the edge of the table, and placed them side by side perfectly in the center of the table. Carl took a sip of the coffee in his hand, and stood up from the stool. He casually walked towards the booth, holding the coffee cup up to his chest to keep it from spilling. As he sat down in the booth, the other man pulled a menu out from behind the ketchup.
"You must be the guy Big Doug sent." The man stated, looking down the menu.
"And you must be Kilroy. Doug said you'd put the napkins on the table, says it's your signal." Carl replied, leaning back against the booth seat.
The waitress walked up, pulling a pen out of the pocket in her apron. She began tapping the pen on the edge of the pad in her hand, waiting for the orders. Kilroy closed his menu, and dropped it down on the table.
"I'll get a slice of apple pie, and a cup of coffee." Kilroy ordered, his eyes hiding behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
The two men sat quietly in the booth for a few seconds as the waitress finished filling out the pad. As she walked away, Kilroy reached into his long coat and pulled out a manilla package. His eyes quickly glanced around the room, and his hands dropped underneat the table. Carl reached under, and grabbed the package, slowly pulling it back to him.
"Inside you'll find the necessary documents. Do not open it here. You're working for me now, not Big Doug, so you'll have a few new rules to follow. One, do not try to contact me, I will contact you when needed. Two, you will speak to no one about the job, even me. If anyone asks you about it, you will act as if there's no such thing. Three, do not trust anyone. I will be sending no one to help you on this mission, so if anyone claiming to be working for me comes to speak to you, you will avoid them. Understood?" Kilroy explained, his voice barely a whisper.
"I got it." Carl calmly replied.
"I've reserved a hotel room across the street for you under the name 'Harris Gall'. When in your room, feel free to open the package. You'll have 24 hours to do the job, and then you will come back here at exactly 3:30 tomorrow afternoon. If you're a minute late, you will not be paid. If you happen to fail the mission, or you do not complete it within 24 hours, you will burn the contents of the package, and we will never see each other again. Is this understood?"Kilroy continued to explain.
"Yeah, I understand." Carl spoke back, his hands underneath the table slipping the package in his coat.
"Good. Consider your mission to officialy start now."Kilroy finished, sliding his glasses back on his face.
Carl took a finishing sip of his coffee, and stood up from the booth. He gave a slight nod of the head to Kilroy, and walked up to the front counter. The waitress punched in the price of his coffee, and asked for the money. He slipped a five across the counter, and give the waitress a wink. He walked towards the door, and looked back into the corner booth. Kilroy was gone, a plate of steaming apple pie sitting on the tabletop.
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Across the street, Carl pushed open the doors for The Vice City Victorian, one of the greatest hotels in the city. As he walked into the lobby, the smell of money hit his face hard. The room was full of rich, all of them sitting around talking with each other, their huge wallets in their pockets rich with the scent of currency. Carl pushed his way through the crowd, being as rude as he possibly could to the snobbish tycoons. He flashed a quick smile as he reached the counter, a clerk on the other side replied with an uncomfortable nod of the head.
"Hi there. I'm here to pick up a key for the room I reserved, the name's Harris Gall." Carl calmly lied.
"Uh...I'm sorry Mr...Gall, but I just gave the key to your room to another fellow claiming to be Harris Gall a few minutes ago."
"What?!" Carl's calmness disappeared as he shouted at the clerk.
"I'm sorry sir. I'll call the manager right away." The clerk shyly spoke, reaching for the phone.
"You know what, that's quite alright. I think I'll just go up to the room myself. Who knows? It might just be a harmless mixup."Carl replied, trying to hide the anger in his voice. "Would you mind telling me which room it is?"
"Room 74 Mr. Gall, 8th floor. You can take the elevator if you'd like, it's just over there past the dining room."The clerk reached over the counter and pointed to the elevator. "Please accept my sincere apologies about the key mixup before, the man claimed to be Harris Gall, I should've checked for I.D."
"It's no problem, really. In fact, if you want to repay me, you could do something right now. Would you mind having a taxi waiting for me when I leave in about fifteen minutes?" Carl asked, beginning to slowly walk away.
"Absolutely sir, it's the least the hotel could do." The clerk quickly replied, picking up the phone to call a taxi.
Carl pushed the button for the 8th floor as he reached the elevator. A loup beep sounded from the doors, and they slid open. He walked inside, and the doors once again slid shut behind him. The elevator was empty, exactly what he needed. He casually reached into his jacket, and pulled out a small handgun from within. Whoever was in his room was not Harris Gall, and they probably weren't looking for a minibar. The doors slid open once more, and Carl carefully walked out, concealing his gun in the palm of his hand. Room 74 was across from the elevator, only a few metres away. Carl slowly began to walk towards it, cautious of what was waiting on the other side. He propped against the door, and grabbed the doorknob. He spun it once, it clicked and the door opened. He slowly backed into the door, as quietly as possible. The room was dark, the only light coming from a neon sign outside the window.
"Who the fuck is in here?" Carl yelled into the dark room, his gun drawn ahead of him.
There was a small rusling sound from the back of the room. Without thinking, Carl fired three shots in the general direction. There was a loud shriek, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Carl took a few steps into the room, looking for any signs of movement. He raised his gun into the air and fired. There was another shriek, and the lights were suddenly turned on. A young girl was lying on the ground near the bed, shivering in fear. The window behind her now shards of glass stuck in the carpet of the floor.
"Who are you?" Carl asked her, picking her up by the wrist.
The girl began to sob, shivering in fear. "P-Please don't hurt me."
Carl sighed, and lowered his gun. "Well, I won't hurt you if you tell me who let you in here? Where's the guy claiming to be Harris Gall?"
"I-In the bathroom..."She pointed to the door, still crying.
Carl turned his head, he could see the closed bathroom door, a light emitting from under the door frame. He raised his gun once again, and turned towards the door. As he inched towards it, the girl behind him stopped sobbing. He pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear any signs of life. Behind him, the girl started grinning. Carl lowered his hand and grasped the doorhandle, slowly turning it. Behind him, the girl raised the lamp over her head, and dropped it on his head.
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His eyes flicked open. It was black. Nothing but shadows surrounded him. His head was throbbing, and it felt like he hadn't had a drink of water in months. His hands were tied behind his head, his feet were handcuffed together, the tight metal of his cuffs cutting off any circulation. He tried to speak, but a dry cloth was jammed down his throat, preventing anything but slight groans to emit from his mouth.
"Don't try to move Mr.Gall, you'll just stop the blood flow more." A voice spoke from the shadows.
Carl began to squirm, just trying to make sure he was still alive. He let out a loud groan, trying to scream for help.
"Relax Mr.Gall, the situation is not as dire as it seems. If you cooperate, you will be make in your mansion by the end of the day."The man cleared his throat, and began to circle around Carl. "Now, I'm going to remove the cloth jammed in your throat. Do not scream, do not talk, do not make any noise or I will shoot you. You will answer when I ask a question, and that is it."
Something grabbed hold of the end of the cloth and ripped it out of Carl's throat. Carl bit his upper lip to stop from screaming, tears of fear beginning to drip down the side of his face. He couldn't remember the last time he was scared.
"Now, Mr. Gall, I suppose you already now the reason I brought you here." The man spoke quickly, Carl could detect a slight british accent.
"Execuse me for butting in, but I'm not Harris Gall. That's just a fake name I'm using while I'm at the hotel." Carl panted, his throat begging for a liquid.
"Don't play fucking dumb with me Mr.Gall, I know who you fucking are. I was told someone with your exact description was going to check into that exact room. Unless my source was wrong, which they never are, you are Harris Gall." The man screamed back, his british accent more apparent.
Carl began to fidget, trying to get his hand into his pocket. "Look at my ID, it'll say I'm Carl Brannings. Please, just look!"
The room went quiet for a few seconds. Carl could hear the man standing there, tapping his shoe on the floor. There was a brief pause of total silence, and then the lights in the room turned on. Carl got a glimpse of the man in front of him. He was a tall man in a completely dark suit. He had slicked back black hair, and a beard that made him look like Hans Gruber. The man grabbed Carl by the neck, and hoisted him up with incredible strength. Within seconds, he was searching through Carl's pockets, looking for his wallet. Instead, he pulled out the manilla package.
"Hello, what do we have here?"The man spoke as he held the package into the light.
The man reached into his suit jacket, and pulled out a small switchblade. He jammed it into the thin paper of the package, and ripped a hole in the side of it. His hand reached in, and pulled out a thin piece of paper. The man held it up to his face, staring at it with a blank stare.
"What the fuck is this?"The man began to shout, throwing the paper to the ground. "Is this a fucking joke?"
Carl couldn't respond, he hadn't seen what the paper had shown. It lay on the floor in front of him, upside down.
"I-I don't know what was on it, I just recieved from a source a few minutes before you kidnapped me."Carl cried back to the man, struggling to get free.
The man sighed angirly, and began to nervously pace around the room. He quietely mumbled to himself, a look of worry spread across his face.
"Your source, who is he?"The man demanded, turning his attention to Carl.
"I-I can't say. He'll kill me."Carl responded, finally deciding to stop struggling.
"He'll kill you? I'll fucking kill you! Tell me who he is!"The man screamed, reaching into his coat.
The man brandished a gun, holding it up into the light. He clicked the safety back, and lowered the gun to Carl's head. "Tell me who the source is, and I won't paint the walls with your fucking brain."
Carl thought for a second. He didn't have much of a choice. He had to tell him. "His name's Kilroy. I'm not really sure who he is, but he gave me a job. I was to kill the man who's mentioned inside the package. That's all I know, honest." Carl squealed, closing his eyes to avoid the gun.
Carl couldn't see, but he could hear the man laugh. At first it was just a slight chuckle, but soon it erupted into hysterics. The man howled with laughter, but still managing to keep the gun close to Carl's head.
"You know what's funny? You were sent to kill someone, and you end up getting killed yourself. That, I find, is the height of irony." The man chuckled, finally ending his laugh.
He jammed the gun against Carl's head, Carl screamed for mercy. The man pulled the trigger, and the bullet erupted out of the gun. It flew through Carl's skull, and managed to exit the other side, flying into the wall. Carl's lifeless body fell to the ground, as blood poured out of the wound in his head.