Karen and Michelle rsquo s Sad Story Prologue
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An Atypical Story: Prologue free porn video
An Atypical Story
By Oberon ([email protected])
Prologue
"Mister Anderson, there is a message for you." The balding and
fat night watchman for the building told the man that came out of
the elevator.
"Thanks, Bob." A somewhat slim built young man of 19 replied.
After a few seconds of walking between the elevator and the
security desk, the young man reached across the table for the
note that was left by the watchman. The fat watchman gave the
younger man a brief, "I know what you did" smile before returning
to his newspaper. The younger man ignored the look the watchman
gave him.
Dear Alex:
Why didn't you call? I waited for you all day. If you lost
my number, it's 555-0776. Call me at any time.
Kim
After reading the note, the young man frowned. "Kim?" The young
man muttered to himself. He searched his memory for the name but
came up blank. "I don't know a Kim," he said louder but no one
besides the watchman was around to hear him. But the watchman
ignored him. Suddenly his face brightened, a light bulb was
turned on in his head. "Oh, this isn't for me," the young man
told the watchman who was still reading the newspaper.
"I'm sorry, it must be for the other Anderson," the fat and
apparently bumbling watchman apologized upon realizing his
mistake. With a bit of concern in his voice the watchman, Bob,
tried to keep from being fired. "Please don't tell him about
this," he pleaded to the young man across the desk. "I have three
kids to feed. Please, if it's not too much trouble."
"Don't worry, it happens." The young man gave the watchman a
reassuring smile before turning to leave.
"Thanks, I owe ya big time." The watchman thanked the man for
being so nice. He promptly returned to his paper, content in just
sitting through the next few hours before his shift ended.
The young man, Alex Anderson, already put this morning's event
behind him as he exited his apartment building. The few minutes
it took him to get to the subway station put it completely out of
his mind. Of course he felt he shouldn't be bothered by something
so trite. Why should he spend his time pondering something as
inconsequential as being mistaken for a neighbor. After all, he
does have something very important to get done and not a lot of
time to do it. But never in his wildest imagination would he have
foreseen this morning's mistaken identity would culminate into
something much bigger, something which has the potential to alter
his life drastically.
The ride in the train was short but also very unpleasant. Being
packed and cramped into a tiny cart was not something Alex
enjoyed, but for the sake of time it was something he had to put
up with. The people around him pushed and shoved for position but
there was none to be had. With each stop, the number of
passengers would only increase the space available to each
decreasing with each new arrival. Finally on the fifth stop, Alex
allowed the flow of those exiting to carry him along. He breathed
a sigh of relief, as he wouldn't have to do this again for
another eight hours at the least.
The university where Alex spent most of his time was just outside
the station. Being somewhat new to this town it took him the few
days before adjusting to the big and crowded station. Certainly,
the multiple exits that led to different streets that were five
blocks away from where he wanted to be, if he took the wrong one,
did not help. Still he managed to memorize the path to the exit
that he wanted after some trial and error. He navigated through
the maze of passageways in the underground station all the while
looking for the landmarks, which he used to identify his path. It
wouldn't do him any good to get lost here, especially on this day
where every minute would count. He turned into another tunnel he
remembered as the one which would lead to the right exit. The
sign on the walls with the arrow and the words "University"
printed was enough to relax him. He wouldn't be walking an extra
five blocks today.
"Alex!" a red head it her early 40's called out as Alex was
walking into building where he intended to spent most of the day.
The woman was relatively young for her position, relatively that
is for a professor of physics. Nevertheless she was attractive
and unlike her male counterparts in the department, she does
manage to keep from being seen as the stereotypical genius.
Alex recognized the person who called out his name as the
professor he is working under. He could guess what she wanted
just from her presence. Undoubtedly she is here for the very same
reason that he was. He looks at her from his possession while
continuing to walk closer to his destination.
"You ready for today?" Alex's professor asked while walking
beside him.
"Sure." Alex replied with a casual glance at the professor.
"That's good," the woman stared into her pupil as they walked
alone. "Just make sure you don't change your mind at the last
moment. I would hate to have a few unflattering *words* with
certain parties if that should ever happen." The seriousness in
her voice said it all.
"Don't worry about me," Alex replied with a bit of venom. "I said
I'll do it and I'll do it." He stared into the woman's eyes
unflinchingly. "You just make sure we'll have everything we
need." His tone was anything but respectful to his teacher.
"Well then, I'll see you at 11 O'clock sharp." The woman turned
the corner and left Alex walking alone.
Like every other day for the past week Alex started his day with
a cup of coffee that he picked up at the T.A. office. With the
coffee he began his day by his spot in the little office shared
by three other people. He took a small sip of the coffee from the
cup and booted up his PC. It took a few minutes but Windows 2000
finally loaded when he was half way through his coffee. After
logging on he checked his e-mail, expecting nothing of
significance just like every morning since he started in this
university. He looked through a list of messages from various
people informing him of various functions but one message caught
his eye. It was from someone named E.A., a nickname that Alex was
very familiar with. Doubling clicking the message, it read:
Dear Alexis,
I hear John Carter got you out. I hope it hasn't been too
hard on you the past few years. Anyway, it was nice to know
that you're okay. You should have given your own sister a
call when you were cut loose, I could have helped you know.
But what I really wanted to know is that you're okay.
That said, I was wondering what you were planning to do
after this project. If you ever need a job I'm pretty
sure the company still wants you back. Well that's just a
suggestion. Missed you.
E.A.
P.S. call mom
After reading the message from his sister Alex could only give a
chuckle. He clicked the reply button and started to write.
My dearest E.A.,
As if.
Alexis.
P.S. don't call me Alexis.
He clicked the send button and look at the clock. It was almost
11, almost show time. He made through his list of e-mails before
shutting his computer. On his way out of the room he threw the
remains of his coffee and the foam cup it was into the trashcan.
It was a mess with the coffee and other trash all mixed up but at
least he doesn't litter. He briefly justified his bad habits as
he left the office.
42 hours later...
A weary and charred Alex walked into his apartment before
collapsing on the floor. On his face was evidence of the recent
accident in the lab. His face was covered with black dust except
around the area where his goggles had been. His clothes were
ripped and covered with small black spots were the sparks from
the explosion had touched it. He smelled of smoke and burned
flesh, if his sense of smell weren't knobbed he would have
noticed that he still smelled like burned charcoal.
In a last ditch effort to get cleaned up he managed to drag his
aching body to his bathroom. Even though the bathroom was only a
few feet away he could feel the last of his strength giving away.
He got the shower running and ripped what remained of his clothes
off. He ignored the mess of shredded clothing on the floor as he
stepped into the stream of water. Immediately he felt the
soothing sensation of a hot shower relax his tired muscles even
as the dirt was washed away. He was tired but was still able to
stand in the tub by leaning on the walls.
Not bothering to use any soap he simply stood there in the
shower, allowing the water to cleanse him. He ignored his sandy
blond hair that was plastered to his back. He ignored the
emptiness in his stomach. He ignored spots of burned skin all
over his body. He ignored the almost boiling hot water that was
turning his skin pink even as he stood in its path. He didn't
want to thank about these things at the moment. The only thing on
his mind was to sleep; he could get away from the world there.
There was no pressure while he slept, no expectations and
deadlines to meet and certainly no one pointing a gun to his head
while he slept. All he had to do was to get some sleep and
everything will be fine.
His sparkling blue eyes were not so bright at the moment. He had
his eyes half closed; the energy to keep them open was simply not
there. He got out of the shower and somehow dried himself with
the towel that was behind the bathroom doors. A quick run through
with the towel over his hair was all he could manage before
opting for sleep. His hair was still wet when his head hit the
pillows, soaking them with water. He was out cold before he even
felt the damp pillowcase under him.
An hour later a knock on the front door of his apartment was
completely ignored. A few seconds later a second knock followed,
but like the first, it too was ignored. The sound of a
conversation between people that wanted to be as quiet as
possible came next.
"You sure he's here?" a female voice came from outside.
"Yup, you sure you got the right place?" a deeper voice from that
of a male answered.
"I know this is it," the female replied while trying to keep her
voice down.
"Alright then, we'll handle it from here." The male voice
finished before the sound of soft footsteps walking away came
through the walls.
In the darkness of the apartment a silent click of the front door
lock being picked open went by almost unnoticed. Almost that is
except for the brief flash of electricity in the lock, which
signaled a circuit being completed. Immediately the door was
silently swung open as two figures entered the darkroom. The two
shadowy figures walked through the room stealthily and
continuously. In their hands they carried a large trunk, which
they placed on the center of the room. Carefully they opened the
trunk; the well lubricated joints didn't make a single squeak as
it was opened. From inside the trunk they got out the tools of
their trade. A length of rope and two ski masks were reprieved
from inside.
A few minutes later they were standing in front of their target
that was still asleep and covered and wrapped in sheets. The two
men gave each other a brief look before they commenced the
operation. "On the count of three," one man whispered to the
other. "One... Two..."
The sound of high pressure air from the direction of their target
disturbed their count. Just after the sound, one of the men saw
the sheets covering their target suddenly jerk upward. This was
the last thing he ever saw.
"?" the other man stopped his count at the sound of the noise. He
looked at the sheets then back at his partner again. He looked
back at the sheets in confusion then once again back at his
partner. Even as his eye widened he saw the other man drop limply
onto the floor. Fear suddenly ran down his spine. As sweat formed
on his forehead he wondered what exactly he had gotten himself
into. "Shit," the stunned intruder muttered in shock.
A second muffled sound came from under the sheets. Before the man
could react he felt a sudden force slam into his left arm.
Quickly his attention turned to his arm. For a moment he felt no
pain or anything else out of the ordinary except for a feeling of
stiffness where he was struck. As he looked closer at his arm he
could feel a hot and sticky liquid run up his arm. Then he saw
it. A small puncture wound on his upper right arm that was not
there a moment before. Realization dawned on him; he has been
shot and the hot sticky liquid he felt was his own blood.
Suddenly pain flared through out his left arm as the event
finally registered. In panic, he pointed the stun gun in his
uninjured arm at his target.
A third muffled noise came from under the sheets. This time the
intruder felt a force slam into his right arm. Before he could
fire the stun gun he felt his right arm go completely numb. As
hard as he tried in his panic, he couldn't muster the strength to
pull the trigger. He kept struggling to pull the trigger before
the next shot, which he thought, would surely finish him off. To
his horror the only result of his struggle was to see his weapon
drop from his grasp, the strength no longer there to hold on to
his only chance of survival.
The sheets were flung open, revealing Alex holding a glock
equipped with a silencer. The barrel of the weapon level with the
man's head. Alex slowly moved in the darkness, his eyes never off
the man that had broke into his apartment. He stood in front of
the man, his gun just a few feet away from the man's head. Alex
gave a brief look at the man's arms, which hung limply on his
sides then at his partner on the floor. A pool of blood around
the area where the other man's head rested was enough to tell
Alex he was dead. The gapping hole on the back of the man's head
was enough to convince anyone who would think otherwise.
Alex's gaze returned to the man standing before him. The man
tried to put on a brave front, but his trembling body said he was
anything but succeeding.
"Who sent you?" Alex asked the man. The cold emotionless void in
his voice suggested that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot. In fact
he had shot him already.
The man starring at the business end of the barrel swallowed once
out of nervousness. He tried to hold on to any experience he had
gained through his career as a professional kidnapper, but
nothing like this had ever happened to him. Sure there were risks
in his job but he had never met someone as ruthless and
emotionless as the person standing before him. Most of his
assignments had been jerks who probably disserved whatever they
got; usually they would put up a feeble resistance but never once
had he saw this kind of utterly cold and ruthless reaction.
"Who sent you?" Alex asked again, his patience straining at the
other man's lack of cooperation.
Still the man did not respond.
Alex looked into the eyes of man how minutes before had planned
to do something unspeakable to him. When he looked into the man's
eyes he saw there was still the vain hope of survival, his eyes
had not stopped moving had not stopped searching for a way out.
'Is he trying to escape?' Alex thought to himself in amusement.
'Pathetic.' Without breaking his icy demeanor or any other
indication he squeezed back on the trigger of his glock.
The forth time the gun fired for the night took the other man's
left ear. It blasted his ear cleanly off his head, blood spouting
out of the newest wound milliseconds later.
"I won't ask a third time," Alex stated a little louder then
before.
The man on the other end of the barrel tried futilely to stop the
bleeding where his ear once was. That was quite impossible with
the holes in either arm. Still the man held on to some
resemblance of resistance. From Alex's point of view he could see
that he had almost broken the other man.
'Just a little more and he's going to sing like a bird,' Alex
concluded.
Of course the stench of urine that filled his nostrils was a
clear indication that he wasn't far off. But there was a problem.
The man doesn't have a lot more parts to be shot off without
killing him. Alex realized this. Instead of causing pain it was
time to threaten the man with greater pain.
Slowly Alex lowered his gun, but stopped when the barrel was
pointed at the other man's crotch. "I wonder if I could get just
one ball?" he mussed loud enough for the other man to hear him.
"I-I-I can't tell you," the frightened man stuttered. "Do-do u-u-
you know wha-wha-what they're going to-to-to do-do-do to-to me?"
this time he seemed ready to talk.
"What? Are they going to kill you?" Alex asked with the same
emotional detachment but also with a hint of sarcasm.
"Wor-Worse," the trembling and stuttering became worse as the
blood lost continued.
"You seem to think you are going to get out of here. I assure
you, this is not possible. The only difference between me and
them is that I'll shoot you in the head if I get what I want."
If the man still had any hope it was dashed with the last
statement.
TBC...
Next time: The bloody carpet and the day job.
Bess
- 07.11.2021
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- 0
