I fear, my dear chaps that my first assignment was something terrible. But it didn’t start off so.
I was ordered, via text message on my cellular phone, to find a man- John Abrish, and ‘persuade’ him to divulge the location of another “being” I shall say. Apparently, he was to know where Gravitron was. The people who’ve terrorized me into action truely insult me. I am a glorified ‘page’ sent to run their errands.
Forgive me for setting my teeth to grinding. The worst part of all this I really should divulge.
Off I went, sending the usual flowers and making the usual calls to every young woman I knew. And, as luck would have it, one of my 55988 friends on Facebook & SexBook .com knew the man and sent me the info.
He was easy enough to lure out. On line you always pretend to be an over attractive, sexually starved female when you want men to show themselves for real and it works every time.
: streetwise, research, computer op, computer hack, … see, I use skills.
IN: now, upon meeting him at a sleezy downtown bar, and his quick discovery that I wasn’t who I prentened to be in the internet zone, he paniced and ran.
Well, I had to run after him. I had to find out where Gravitron is.
I chased him for several blocks, before the local constable’s got onto us. The police, as usual only around when not desired, attempted to bind us both by law.
Abrish reached inside his jacket for something, and one of the officers shot him dead. I raced to reach him before the bullet could hit and was shot myself in the process.
They saw that I didn’t go down, but I failed to absorb that one (took it in the shoulder, hurts like the devil). My primary concern was the man now bleeding out in the street. I got to him but couldn’t save him.
The officers gave me no orders and simply shot me again. This one I parried.
They then started shouting something about “one of them” and they ALL
opened up on me.
- what I didn’t grab with my hands, I did absorb, but that woudl be another leather jacket ruined, as well as another pair of designer jeans and they even shot the sunglasses off my face. 500$ Oakly’s.
While they were reloading and chuckled aloud.
“Feel better chaps?”
I don’t know why but they all stopped to listen when I said that (God, this generation is bloody dim).
Now, my intent with the next move was to scare them, but it didn’t pan out that way.
I walked over and picked up their cars in an attempt to make them run away. Now, I could see that they were about to, but what happened next I can’t recall, save to say that the dead man was the cause.
There was a loud noise.
A bright light.
I picked myself up (to my chargin I was still alive, meaning I got to feel all the pain, but thankfully nothing was broken and I was still in one piece.
But the first man- Abrish- was gone. There was only a crator where his bdoy lay. All the constables were slain. Both of their automobiles were burning masses of twisted metal, and was more seriously injured than I thought.
I dragged myself to the hospital and all I could think was: “Abrish had more than one secret and no we’ll never know what any of them are?”
Several hours later I had a visitor. It would seem that I succeeded in my mission after all. Graitron had come to see me, for that was how he intruduced himself.
Sadly, I had no ay to contact the ruddy bastards who put me onto this in the first place.
So there I was; in a hospital bed, heavily injured and sedated, and sharing converse with someone rumored to be extremely dangerous.
I will never again do another persons dirty work. It’s time I started worked them instead.