Title: Test of Time (3/12)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.
Rating: R for language and violence
Feedback: Well it will make me write faster ;)
Chapter 3
Krychek woke up from his peaceful slumber ecstatic in the knowledge that two of his problems had been 'fixed' without a hitch. So, when he turned on the morning news, he was livid to hear the news anchor reporting that a man was found in Central Park badly beaten and left for dead after being mugged the previous night. The reporter went on to say that the man was found by several passerby's and rushed to hospital where he was now in critical condition and in a coma. When the reporter was done, he quickly muted the sound and picked up the phone, angrily punching in the numbers.
"I know." The voice said immediately on the other end, not waiting for him to speak.
"I thought you said you handled it?" He said, furious.
"We were interrupted before we could finish. He looked dead. We left him hidden, we couldn't know - "
"I don't want your fucking pathetic excuses!" The man screamed over the phone, in strong contrast to his usual calm demeanor. "Fix it today." He told him before disconnecting the line.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
It was late afternoon when the two men slowly made their way down the hospital corridor, speaking in hushed tones. They were halfway down the hall when they saw a man donned in a lab coat quickly exiting one of the rooms. They instantly recognized the man as he quickly turned the corner and disappeared from sight, knowing that he wasn't a doctor. The could hear the machine flat-lining from where they were standing and realized they were too late. They quickly turned off into another wing and left, trying not to attract any attention, just as a team of doctors and nurses came running down the hall they had just vacated.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Angela Boscorelli and her eldest son were making their way from the hospital cafeteria, two cups of hot coffee in their hands, when they turned the corner leading to Mikey's room. As Angela Boscorelli saw the team of doctors and nurses rushing down the hall, the cup of coffee she was carrying dropped from her hand, its hot contents splattering all over the white floor. She fell to the ground, a cry escaping from her, instinctively knowing that her son was dead.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to John Wells, Edward Allan Bernero, NBC and a bunch of other people I don't know.
Rating: R for language and violence
Feedback: Well it will make me write faster ;)
Chapter 3
Krychek woke up from his peaceful slumber ecstatic in the knowledge that two of his problems had been 'fixed' without a hitch. So, when he turned on the morning news, he was livid to hear the news anchor reporting that a man was found in Central Park badly beaten and left for dead after being mugged the previous night. The reporter went on to say that the man was found by several passerby's and rushed to hospital where he was now in critical condition and in a coma. When the reporter was done, he quickly muted the sound and picked up the phone, angrily punching in the numbers.
"I know." The voice said immediately on the other end, not waiting for him to speak.
"I thought you said you handled it?" He said, furious.
"We were interrupted before we could finish. He looked dead. We left him hidden, we couldn't know - "
"I don't want your fucking pathetic excuses!" The man screamed over the phone, in strong contrast to his usual calm demeanor. "Fix it today." He told him before disconnecting the line.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
It was late afternoon when the two men slowly made their way down the hospital corridor, speaking in hushed tones. They were halfway down the hall when they saw a man donned in a lab coat quickly exiting one of the rooms. They instantly recognized the man as he quickly turned the corner and disappeared from sight, knowing that he wasn't a doctor. The could hear the machine flat-lining from where they were standing and realized they were too late. They quickly turned off into another wing and left, trying not to attract any attention, just as a team of doctors and nurses came running down the hall they had just vacated.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Angela Boscorelli and her eldest son were making their way from the hospital cafeteria, two cups of hot coffee in their hands, when they turned the corner leading to Mikey's room. As Angela Boscorelli saw the team of doctors and nurses rushing down the hall, the cup of coffee she was carrying dropped from her hand, its hot contents splattering all over the white floor. She fell to the ground, a cry escaping from her, instinctively knowing that her son was dead.