Precog
Chapter 1
Johann Liebhart a.k.a. the Monster, stood over a dead corpse and calmly walked away. The darkening night easily covered his footsteps as the pouring rain pounded on the roof of the home. He had already put away his gun and was about to walk out of the front door. He reached a pale hand out and grasped the handle, quietly wrenched it open, and was greeted with a fully chocked gun to his temple.
A smile graced his serene face and his piercing, blue eyes stared into his counterparts without any trace of fear in his eyes.
"Nina."
He said, his soft voice barely carrying over the rain that crashed
around the house and onto the shaking blonde 20 year old girl. Her
light blue dress clung to her skin and the gun she held with shaking
hands seemed frozen in the air between them.
"Brother. Tonight, your going to die!" Nina chattered out as she forced herself to apply pressure to the gun's trigger.
Johann's smile remained and the elder twin easily reached his hand up to push the gun a little higher on his forehead.
"There,
without any help, that should kill me. It's always just been this way,
you'll get what you want." He replied, his voice filling Nina with
dread and guilt.
"It's not what I want, but you! You've destroyed everything that's ever been good for me, for you! You could have stayed with mom and dad but you didn't, we could have been a normal family! And the Liebharts, they weren't so bad, and they treated us well! Everyone! Everyone, and this is why, it's the only way."
2 days earlier:
Brandfurt
industrial stood in the way of a priceless property. Columns of old
adorned the structure with its beauty but the dreary landscape of dying
trees and a blanket of snow brought the image down to that of dark and
desolate.
Reian Brandfurt stood resolutely in front of his father's old business, ready to bulldoze it down.
"With the rest of the garbage." As he liked to put it.
He pulled out a old note that read only these words.
"Beginnings are endings, don't underestimate what could be." He read out loud then crumpled the tattered note. Pushing it down under his inside coat pocket for safe keeping, Mr. Brandfurt resumed his vigil on his dying company. A man of about 25 came up behind him and tapped his shoulder, looking concerned.
"The proposal, you signed it like you said you would, correct?" The black haired man's course voice asked with apprehension. Once the building was signed off on, then there would be no one to stop his own father's failed enterprise from being rebuilt on this priceless land.
"Your in such a hurry, Pars. Makes me think you'll get something out of this other than being fired. I can't afford to pay anyone these days, and the only thing this stinking building had gotten me is a headache and an ulcer for my trouble. No one wants this crap anymore." Brandfurt mused. He then nodded his head to his apprentice of 7 years, and looked once again at the abandoned place that had been his families for 3 generations.
"I remember, my grandfather. He started this place, his name was…" He drifted off, lost in his own memories.
He never noticed the slight whoosh coming from behind him and the last thing he saw was the infinite darkness as his occipital nerves were severed and the blood flowed freely.
Pars Kemplin laughed with mirth as he leaned down over his former employers dying body and gripped the 7 inch knife handle firmly. He yanked hard in one motion, removing the knife from the back of Brandfart's head.
"That oil is mine. I'll buy the land up before it can even go on the market, no one's going to give me and mine orders from now on. We'll be richer than I've ever dreamed!" Pars yelled out, he knew no one could hear him. He'd been assured, no one would be here for this perfect crime's exhibition.
