I feel like I should take this time to give those of you who've stuck with the story a description of my OC. He's 5"11', very short brown hair with a few greys, hardly shaves so he's got a five o'clock shadow most of the time, dark rings under his eyes that get progressively better as time goes on, he is currently nineteen, 200 pounds, and wears a variety of clothing but always has long sleeves and combat boots.
To those it may concern, I would like to apologize if I've appeared rude in the past. I'm sorry if I've appeared hypocritical by welcoming critiques and then complaining about them, I'm just trying to justify my mistakes. Just some last clarifications: No, I don't live in New York, I live in Ohio. And no, I probably will never be on the level of Ikeda, or consider myself the same level of genius. I'm just a fan, and this is my work. I plan on this story continuing awhile.
I thought I'd get a nice dream for once, considering. Fat chance of that.
It was another memory of my time with the Black Wardens, when we were 'breach and clearing' an opium den (there are more of them then you think).
I was outside at night in Detroit, the winter snow was up to my ankles. Intel said that there was a file containing the location of a heroin distribution hub somewhere inside. I was standing in an alley directly across the street from a cellar door, beyond which
was the den.
I recall that the bulletproof vest was itching under my trench coat. I couldn't very well open up my coat to adjust it, trying to remain inconspicuous and all. One hand was in my pocket the other was carrying a leather suitcase.
Damn it's freezing. I thought, pulling out a cigarette. I was only seventeen, why the hell was I smoking? When the tip was lit I inhaled and checked my watch. I guess I could've cared less about my lungs, the last year had really done a number on me as it is.
"Almost time." I said to myself, just as my earpiece buzzed to life. "Sir! Police heli in area, what do we do?" said the voice of a sarge.
I responded in a bored voice, "There's no way they could've found out about this. Hold your position and let it pass." I said, taking another puff. "Yes sir." said the voice, then the earpiece fell silent.
As far as my parents were concerned I was spending the night at friend's, my lies didn't vary but they still believed them whole-heartedly. I did that
because I knew they'd never understand, who wants a killer for a son?
The minutes ticked by, I kept my eyes on the door that was half concealed by the ground. Suddenly it swung open, and someone stumbled out onto the snow. It was a young man, completely high and disoriented. He had blonde hair and a leather jacket. I could've passed him off as a civilian, but he had an AK-47 over his shoulder. Must've been on security detail and decided to partake of the opium.
"Orders?" the earpiece said. "Take him. If anyone sees, start the breach." I said. One suppressed gunshot later he lay motionless in snow, with blood
beginning to collect around his forehead. No one came out of the door, no one drove by, no one had seen a thing. And they won't see this. I thought.
"Move into position, I'm crossing the street." I said into my earpiece. "Roger that." it responded.
By the time I reached the door a dozen men dressed in swat gear had gathered on both sides. I opened up the suitcase and took out my MP5 with grenades.
After loading the first clip, I turned to my third-in-command Connar. "Remember, in and out as quick as possible. If they get a chance to return fire I'll draw it away from you and the others." I said. "I really wish I could talk you out of going in first all the time. These men are more than willing act as the
forefront." he said. A soldier stepped forward, "He's right sir, you've done a lot for us. Please let us return the favor." he said.
I could never ask someone to put themselves in danger for my sake, but they didn't get that. These men were used to the idea of a leader sending people to fight for him.
I turned to the soldier and gave him a blank stare, he understood and stepped back. "Alright, the door isn't locked so we're walking in without a breach. When the first person notices us, we open up." I said, turning the safety off. "If they're armed, they're hostile. Don't worry about civilian witnesses, your uniforms will make them think this is a DEA bust." I said, putting out my cigarette. "Now, on three..." I said.
Out of six people in the dimly lit, brick walled, cafeteria-sized room, two of them had been armed. When the shots stopped firing no soldier or civilian was injured.
My men began collecting the bodies, shell casings, and weapons while Connar and I checked the office.
In that small, cubicle-like room we searched and confiscated all the files kept there. It was poorly organized but that hardly mattered when you were taking everything.
We re-entered the main room to find the men watching over the survivors. "Sir. This man here owns the property." said one. I approached the portly man who wore gold necklaces. "You're all murderers!" said the man. "It's not murder if you're protecting the innocent." I said blandly.
"And who are the innocent's you're protecting from me and my business!?" he said. "Specifically, all those kids you've got pedaling your product and running errands. Not to mention the fact that you've got friends in some pretty nasty places, we want to know who and where." I said, giving him my death stare.
Just then a large 'bang' had gone off.
I looked around rapidly and saw that there was an open door, it had been painted the color of the wall so it wasn't noticed till now. I did a head count and saw that Connar was missing. God no. I thought.
I ran to the door and looked inside, lying in face-down in front of me was Connar. I looked up and saw that a shotgun had been rigged to go off for when the door was opened.
I knelt down and picked him up, hoping against hope that he was okay. What I saw made me almost throw up: there was a cavity in head where his skull should've been.
"Damn it, you idiot!" I yelled at the body. "This is why I go first! This is why I always go first!" I continued yelling. "You're only fourteen...why the hell are you dead!?" I screamed. What I saw next, did make me throw up.
In that cement, jail cell-sized room, there was a metal chair bolted the floor. Next to it was a table with wheels that had everything from corkscrews to cleavers, along with miscellaneous surgical equipment. In that chair was the pale body of a twelve year-old girl, covered head to toe with injuries of every kind. I collected myself just long enough to feel her pulse with my quivering fingers. I confirmed it, she was dead.
In addition to Connar's blood, the floor was covered in blackish red stains that had accumulated over time. A video camera sat on a tri-pod, facing the chair.
"Snuff...films?" I said, my anger building. My nails dug into my palms until they started to bleed.
I set Connar down and picked up my SMG. I walked at a brisk pace back to where the portly man was, a hungerous rage filling my stomach.
I grabbed him by the collar and shook him. "What kind sick bastard are you!?" I yelled, punching him square in the gut. "Unh! Stop it, this is murder!" he pleaded.
"That's absolutely hilarious coming from you! Do I look l give a s*** about murder!?" I continued. Then I throw him to the ground and began pounding his face with the butt of my gun. "Stop...your...I..." the man said between hits. "This is how they begged! You hear me!? This is how they begged!" I screamed. Something animalistic had woke in me, something less than human.
"Sir, if you keep doing that he'll die without interrogation." said a frightened grunt. I stopped my assault, and got up.
"Your right, that's more than he deserves." I said, the hatred still spewing from my gut. "Tie him and his employees up, we're leaving them here." I said, darkly.
"Grab Connar and put him in the van. Don't take anything, it's all tainted." I said, thinking of how those two kids should have lived much longer, full lives.
Once we were all back out in the snow, I pulled the pin on an incendiary grenade and threw it inside.
We watched the blaze in our rear view mirrors. I woke up feeling sick.
Sorry if this chapter was a little darker than usual, just trying to show what Jacob's been through.