Jacob's Shadow
From WitB Guild Wiki
Hey everyone,
Thought i might post some of my writings up here. This is chapter one of Jacob's Shadow, a short story thing i'm writing. Hope you enjoy it!
Maximus (WitB)
Jacob’s Shadow
Chapter 1
Three minutes to go.
She whirled on the dance floor, five feet of blonde fury, her hair floating out behind her in a golden cloud. She was dressed in virginal white – white singlet, white jacket, white mini skirt which occasionally gave a glimpse of lacy white underwear. Music thumped, lights pulsed, and sweaty masses of flesh heaved and swayed. I got to my feet. This wasn’t my scene.
The girl in white was slowing now, touching the arm of her dance partner, laughing softly with him, her words drowned out by the music and her actions drowned out by the chaotic clash of movement on the dance floor. She led him over to one of the bars – he was about forty-five, professional looking, Mister CEO with a graying crew cut and a steely glare. Right now his eyes were baby-soft as he clutched at his white angel, whispering hotly in her ear while clutching at her rump. She squealed, playing it perfectly, and danced away shaking her finger at him, only to return a second later.
Two minutes.
I moved through the press of dancers and headed towards the same bar. My eyes never strayed from the back of her head as she turned, searching, looking for something, someone. Our eyes met. I nodded imperceptibly. Glazing over me, she turned completely around and spoke to Mister CEO. His head jerked back slightly, and he licked his lips eagerly. More words between them. A nod towards a side door, a look in her eye.
They moved. I moved with them.
One minute.
Laughter echoed down the alleyway as the cold hit me like a hammer. The winds were always harsher downtown, channeled between the concrete canyons of the skyscrapers. This time of night, even most of the clubs were empty, the buzz of the crowds having given way to cold silence. I stayed in the shadows, making sure the steel door was closed and nobody else came out. Six metres in front of me The Angel and Mister CEO were kissing, body heat leaching out of their flimsy clothes as they pawed at each other.
I lit a cigarette and moved forward. Three metres away. Two. I snapped my zip lighter closed with a sharp crack, the first audible sound I’d made all night. Mister CEO froze, and The Angel stepped back. She looked deep into his eyes. “Sorry,” she murmured, turning away. “It’s not personal.”
He turned to face me. Saw me pull my Beretta out of its holster at the small of my back. Gauging whether he would live if he ran. “Don’t,” I said calmly. “It’ll just make it messy.”
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked harshly. His voice was pure pack-a-day smoker, gravel echoing off the silent walls.
I tossed the photos to him calmly. He missed, scattering the photos all over the ground. The Angel was watching from the shadows behind a concrete pillar. Moisture dripped down a faded poster, the only sound as Mister CEO scrabbled on the ground, holding a photo up to the light. I took a drag on my cigarette.
“Mister, you don’t wanna know who I am.” I said it in a bored tone, like this was an everyday occurrence. The streetlight shone through the photo, giving me a glimpse of what it contained. A splash of flesh. A twelve year old girl. A man with a graying crew-cut and steely glare. All the fight went out of him.
As if on cue a car pulled up at the entrance to the alleyway. A long, dark sedan stolen out of the Chadstone shopping center car park last Tuesday- our ride out of here.
Mister CEO eyed it nervously, then spoke. “What do you want?” His voice broke, on the verge of tears.
I raised the gun. The Angel turned away. Her cigarette burned a hole in the darkness.
“Same thing everyone wants, my friend.” I clicked the safety off. The wind blew an old newspaper across the empty road. “Forgiveness.”
I took a last drag on my cigarette, and squeezed the trigger.
