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#Post#: 170--------------------------------------------------
Hired to Fire -a story by SoloKoloS
By: SoloKoloS Date: September 1, 2013, 10:53 pm
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Chapter 1
Dick Jones approached the hospital cautiously knowing that it
could be a trap. The building didn't seem to stand out in the
least, after all it was abandoned, the windows were almost all
broken. Despite this the iron bars behind the broken glass had
held out.
The sliding door in the front had wooden planks in it to keep
out intruders, and for that reason Dick started to head to the
back. Cold august nights like this were the norm, the colors of
leaves like colored pencil shavings. As he rounded the corner,
leaves crunching beneath his feet, Dick found the conditions
even worse.
Dick let out a small sigh, and fixed his graying hair, that was
a little too long for his age, and checked his watch. His
wrinkling skin was the biggest reminder that he should be a
private detective at age 61, Dick marked the time in his head as
21 hundred. He revaluated the scene before him and saw that a
couple iron bars were on the ground. They had been thrown to the
ground like discarded trash. He was too close to the building to
see which window they had been removed from.
Dick's eyes moved past the bars to see the paint on this side of
the building was almost completely gone. As he approached the
middle he finally found the emergency vehicle exit for the
hospital and he approached. It surprised Dick to see that the
wire mesh that normally covered the entrance was completely
gone. He drew his colt .45 slowly and pointed it towards the
ground, by his right leg.
He kept both his hands on it as he stuck to the right side of
the entrance and checked his corner by slowly raising his pistol
to point around it. He peeked around and a door blocked his
view. He sighed and moved further into the lot, continuing to
check his corners, but every time he did nothing stood out.
Finally he found a service elevator and an emergency staircase.
He tried the staircase door and it swung outward with ease.
"Right..." He mumbled to himself, "Electronic locks don't work
when there's no electricity."
He saw that the staircase went both up and down, and he
proceeded to take the latter. As Dick reached the first landing
and turned to go down again he heard a click from the door... It
had locked.
Dick suddenly sprinted up the stairs, the cement providing just
enough traction to reach the landing with the door on it in one
jump. He knew it was locked before he tried it, but yanked on
the door anyways. Dick slowly turned around, his breathing
suddenly quick as he saw a man at the landing he had jumped from
leaning against the wall, one leg crossed over his other to make
a t-shape.
He was spinning a gun in his hand slowly, smiling a devilish
smile. Dick looked down at his own hand to find that he had no
gun in it. He had dropped it in his hurry. The man suddenly
spoke, and in a teasing voice said, "Oops... Is this yours?"
He tried to laugh, but was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit.
"I just found it on the ground... So careless," he said after
the fit had subsided.
"I don't mean to come off as a... Dick-" he suddenly exploded
into a laughing fit more violent then his coughing fit.
After it had subsided, which took a while, he said "But, when
you dropped your gun you gave the impression that you had a
jonesing to die."
The laughter started again, but not quite as violent. Dick tried
not to move, as he didn't feel the need to unbalance this mans
delicate psyche anymore then it had already been. But like a
thin man on a giant scale, with gold bars stacked on the other
side, the odds were stacked against him.
The man finished his laughing fit and calmly strode forward, his
footsteps making no noise, and his smile never fading. Dick
reached into his jacket and pulled out a police badge, pointing
it in the direction of the smiling man and said, "I'm with the-"
the man didn't even glance at the badge or listen to a single
word. He slowly raised the stolen gun until it was level with
Dick's head. "Sweet dreams,"
The man whispered, followed by the explosive force of a bullet
going through Dick's head, tearing it apart as it splintered in
his skull. What was once Dick Jones was just a lifeless corpse.
Brain matter painted the walls, red like roses. Like a rose the
bullet had brought blood from man to touch the world.
The corpse slumped against the wall, falling sideways as soon as
its knees touched the ground. An intercom sparked to life
nearby, and a voice reverberated through the stairway when it
said,
"Those were some terrible jokes Kolos, now get back to the main
floor." The now named Kolos smiled "I'm coming, I'm coming," and
started up the staircase.
After two landings he walked into a spotless hallway, the floor
was white, and seamless. It had a stain at the corner behind
him. He closed the door, and what had looked like a normal metal
door with an electric lock, was actually wood, as could be seen
from the other side.
There was no lock on this side, because there seemed to be no
threat from this side. Kolos walked slowly across the carpet
with yellow tinged walls on both sides, interrupted every so
often by a wood door. Each one was numbered, the numbers
counting in the direction he was walking.
1 was on his left, 2 on his right, followed by 3 on his left,
and it continued with that pattern throughout the entire
hallway. Door number 12, on his right side, approached and he
opened it when he reached it.
Kolos entered into an entirely different environment; suddenly
the floor was cement, and the walls shared that trait. A small
boy sat in a chair in the middle of the room, and he was almost
completely surrounded by monitors, and had 8 different keyboards
around him, each was just within reach.
The desk in front of the boy, who was about 13, and had jet
black hair, with brown eyes, had at least 32 computers under it.
The keyboards could be changed to whichever computer he needed
it to be. There was a homemade set of blue LEDS at the top of
the keyboards. Each keyboard had 3 of these LEDS and there were
numbers above each LED which read from left to right 1-32. The
boy typed fast, and constantly switched keyboards, the monitors
changing every minute to a new video. There was only one screen
that didn’t change and that was the one closest to the boy. It
had a black background with green text overlay that read: “No
unusual movements.” It seemed like that this task was a waste of
monitor space, but the boy still glanced at it every 22 seconds,
to confirm what he was seeing.
Kolos put his hand on the boy’s right shoulder, and the boy
jumped.
“What the f-f-fuck was that?” he asked. The boy swore like a
sailor, and was very ungraceful when he moved. He had a slight
stutter, and his voice was a little bit higher then average.
“Calm down Eon,” Kolos whispered into his ear as he calmly
looked at one of the screens. “I have a question,” Kolos
mumbled, “Why is this video here looping the body slumping, if
it’s a live feed.”
Eon sighed “I was testing techniques to loop bank footage, and
stuff like that.” Eon typed a few things, and the video went to
an actual live feed, which showed a black and white image of a
girl, around 23 years of age putting the body in a garbage bag,
and cleaning the blood. “She works fast,” Kolos said, satisfied.
“Where’s my brother?” Kolos asked, and Eon giggled. “He’s on a
job, be back in an h-h-h-hour.” Eon said, tripping over the word
hour, because of his stutter. Kolos didn’t seem to notice.
“That was a close one. Tell Ms clean up to dump the body in the
river, near areas of lots of gang violence.”
Eon sighed, “Ms clean up is g-going to kick your ass if she
hears you talking about her like that,” Then eon pressed a
button on one of the keyboards, and repeated the instructions.
He had been given.
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