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  1. #61

    ARTYOM: THE GULAG

    Doyle was not having a good day. It was probably Doyle's worst day of luck. After working for a week's straight at the docks, he was finally able to get a well deserved day off. He planned on just chilling and getting high but found himself short on finances. It was just in time to that he ran out of Id and Platinum Lily - two of the really popular stuff. His dealer refused to sell him any and suggested that he sneak around Coyote Ugly that night and he might be able to score some free stuff. Boy, was that a very bad idea... He was desperate though, and now his stupidity has landed him in some back alley club's dank basement in large chains. The room reeked of piss and blood. He almost pissed himself too when that gigantic Russian smashed the head of some random dude.

    Doyle's hands were starting to get jittery and he couldn't stop his legs from shaking. He was starting to withdraw. He wanted his drugs right now. He racked his brain and thought about it for a couple minutes. He's gonna have to take his chance. Lloyd will probably get killed but he really 'needs' his fix. Doyle would then shake up his chair and try to move it forward with forceful little jumps. He wanted to make noise to be noticed. He shouted frantically too.

    "Yo, man! I know the guy that dumps those dead hookers! I'll tell you for some Id!!"

    DRAKE: GOTHAM PD

    Senior Detective Bryan Paulson has only had five hours of sleep in the last 24 hours. He was lucky to he had enough time to shower and had breakfast. The PD has never been as chaotic as last night. They were in knee deep of problems. The thirty four year old, six foot tall senior detective stood in front of the reception desk and read up on the latest reports and upcoming cases that needed to be taken care of that day when a young man with a stern face calls for his attention. The young man introduces himself as Drake Hunter - a new addition to the force.

    Paulson gave a quick look at the rookie and raised a brow before speaking.

    "You need to work on your outfit there, slick. The commissioner doesn't like stuff that are too casual. At least wear a collared shirt or something."

    Paulson extends his hand to the young man gesturing a hand shake. If the young man would lend the courtesy then Paulson would continue speaking.

    ''I'm Senior Detective Bryan Paulson - in charge when the Chief isn't here. Been a tough night so he'll be taking a break. I've already been informed of your transfer and I'm glad you're here. We always need new blood in this town. I'll put you to work right away. We got a four-nineteen in South Gotham. Come with me."

    FIFTH DEAD FLOWER: Narrow Alleyway - South Gotham

    It smelled of garbage and cat piss. It was a typical day in this street. People went and passed by going to their work place or whatever it is they may do. There were some who would stop and feed their curious eyes and then would walk away a few moments later. Dead bodies weren't a rare thing in South Gotham. It was the ghetto and crime and dead bodies were common.

    The narrow alley way was cordoned off by a police crime scene tape. An armed policeman stood by the edge of the tape to make sure nobody outside the force would come in and loot or ruin the crime scene. A detective would be seen interviewing a woman, the one who found the body while she was throwing her trash bags that morning. Behind the tapes, two crime scene investigators are studying the crime scene: taking pictures, taking swabs, looking for evidence. It has only been ten minutes since they began.

    The dead body was that of a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties with light brown hair. The body was slumped against the side of the dumpster, no clothes on but a garbage bag seemed to be wrapped around her. People from last night probably thought she was another homeless girl.

    Yet to be found by the CSI's is the clear plastic bag beneath the dumpster. Inside it is the clean clothes of the victim and her purse, containing her wallet and identification cards including her employee ID : Jenna Dickson, 24, Gotham MetroBank teller.



    Last edited by Kristina; 07-25-2015 at 05:37 PM.

  2. #62
    Grand Knight of Ruland Faize Beleth's Avatar
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    Kain's Darkness: Lily Killer

    Taking the towel from Sirene, he chuckled while wiping the blood off of his face.

    Thanks Darling

    He said, tossing her a smile. Soon after she began to perform tasks to take care of the guests. While everyones back was turned, Kain slipped out of the room unseen. Walking out of the back door, Gary stood ready with a smile on his face.

    "How'd I do boss?"

    Gary extended his fist towards Kain who bumped it with his own.

    Perfect. You may **** up sometimes but Im glad I broke you out of jail.

    "Aw boss when did you get a heart?"

    Keep talking and I might just take yours

    "..Um.. Sorry boss.

    Nah don't worry about it.

    The two set out in a nearby parked car Gary had driven and took off into the night.


    Days passed and Kain now sat at his base. The sound of fist against flesh could be heard repeatedly. A man and a woman were strapped to individual chairs with Kain sitting in a throne like one himself in front of him within this warehouse. One of his more brute lackies cracked his fist against the mans head. The woman had a slightly bloody mouth but the man looked completely awful. Not even his own mother would be able to tell who he was. His face swollen, the brute stopped with a snap of Kain's fingers.


    Just tell me what you know about the bitch running around with my ****.

    "I don't know I swear!"

    He yelled before the brute ran his fist across his face again. It was obvious Kain was getting pissed. He never wanted the officials on the trail of his lily and now thanks to him, it was only a matter of time before they found its composition. Even if so it had ingrediants that couldn't be found in gotham per say. They had been at this torture for hours.

    Kain rapidly tapped his foot in impatience before finally standing up and walking towards the two. He took hold of the womans chin, forcing her to look at him. He stared into her eyes before turning his head towards the man.


    What is she to him?

    "If I remember right boss, thats his daughter"

    Hmph...pretty little thing isn't she. A grown woman in Gotham? Now that can be dangerous. Hey Bozo, you know what they used to call me where I come from?

    Kain said, taking out and flipping open a pocket knife. The man could apparently still form tears from his swollen eyes as he shook his head no.

    Its normal to call someone their real name. So they called me Jack. But not because it was my name...

    He slowly put the side of the blade on the girls cheek, grazing her skin with it before gliding it across her skin and down to her neck.

    Do you know why they called me jack?

    The man muttered an unintelligible unintelligable sound from his swollen mouth and shook his head.

    I reminded them of a story about Jack...THE RIPPER!

    As he spoke "The ripper" he used the blade to cute down the girls dress, effectively cutting it down yo her waist, revealing her figure and underwear. Her high muffled screamed were audible from behind the thick layer of tape and the cloth in her mouth. She began to cry, and Kain looked more pissed than ever. He ran his hand along her stomach while talking to her

    Shh shh shh.

    He said, moving his hand up to fondle her chest. Both of them began to make noises and move around in desperation but there was no escape.

    I'll ask you One-

    With the blade he cut off one of the womans bra straps

    More

    Kain would cut the other, exposing the girls privacy. It was then Kain looked back at the man with a smile on his face.

    Time. Reports say you just might have known him or atleast saw him and you wont tell me anything still?

    The man said nothing. Not even a sound other than his heavy breathing. Even having the audacity to glare at kain to which he did not like.

    Fine then

    With incredible speed without breaking eye contact with the man Kain retrieved a syringe and twirled it in his hand before jamming it into the girls leg causing her to let out a muffled scream. He then tossed the tool off to the side. He then went behind her and cut her bindings, she quickly stood up but was incredibly disoriented. Barely even able to walk. Kain approached behind her and pulled her shoulder back. Making her fall into him. She had been given and incredible dose of Platinum Lily. . he wrapped his hands around her waist and took hold of her chest. One of the guards removed the tape and gag rag. Kain moved the two of them to the front of the man. The man looked in horror. Just as he was about to say something, Gary and his sizable hands covered the man's mouth. Gary knew what to do all the time without Kain having to tell him so which is why he valued him so highly.

    Tell me. How much does daddy love his little girl hm? As a cop I would assume you love her very much.[/COLOR

    Keeping one hand on her back and they other hand toying with the knife

    Unfortunately for you

    Pulling back on her shoulder the girl straightened up again. Her whole body was a deep red and drool oozed from her mouth. She turned her head as kain took hold of her chin and turned her head to the side before planted a Kiss on the girl. She seemed to be well invested in it as if she was putting her life on the line. While she was distracted, he took his blade hand and slit her throat right then and there. Letting the girls body drop onto her fathers lap.

    You've wasted too much of my time already.

    Even with his swollen face the pure despair and agony was obvious. The cops wails muffled through his swollen face could be heard through the warehouse. Kain was the worst kind of person to get onto his bad side. He walked away back towards his seat.

    She's not dead. Just a little bloody. I didn't cut deep.

    Kain took a seat in his chair.

    Boys...Take'em to church

    Suddenly the goons began to swarm. Like he said the girl was still alive but from the pain, shock, and drugs, she was pratically a husk that could still move. One began to take off his belt and drop his pants before taking a handful of the girls hair and moving her head towards him. "Let's see what daddy's little girls mouth do". The guy said.


    The night was horror for the two. Leaving them to the lackies desire, unfortunately for the cop, one of the bulky ones was definitely into men, having been looking at him the whole night. Kain and Gary however left. Kain sat in the back of the car looking out the window before Gary spoke up.


    Hey boss, why didn't YOU just **** her face?"

    Because I have better options to try heh.

    The two shared a laugh for a moment

    Besides I'd rather **** the face of that bartender. Or I'd **** that Maggie girl. She was a real bombshell.

    "You got that right boss. She had the looks and the body."

    Well well Gary. Why didn't you try to get her?

    A moment of silence filled the car.

    "She turned me down before I could even try...

    Hahaha! Thats whyI like you Gary. We have great taste. Those other guys would sleep with a downtown ***** if they got the chance
    Last edited by Faize Beleth; 07-27-2015 at 05:22 AM.
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    I love you faize
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    Nu~ How could I forget~? It was you, my dear King Faize~
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    Its okay Faize youll always be my lord in every way lol

    Arata Haimura (Fairy Tail) lAi Mikaze (Fairy Tail)

  3. #63
    Quote Originally Posted by Kristina View Post


    DRAKE: GOTHAM PD

    Senior Detective Bryan Paulson has only had five hours of sleep in the last 24 hours. He was lucky to he had enough time to shower and had breakfast. The PD has never been as chaotic as last night. They were in knee deep of problems. The thirty four year old, six foot tall senior detective stood in front of the reception desk and read up on the latest reports and upcoming cases that needed to be taken care of that day when a young man with a stern face calls for his attention. The young man introduces himself as Drake Hunter - a new addition to the force.

    Paulson gave a quick look at the rookie and raised a brow before speaking.

    "You need to work on your outfit there, slick. The commissioner doesn't like stuff that are too casual. At least wear a collared shirt or something."

    Paulson extends his hand to the young man gesturing a hand shake. If the young man would lend the courtesy then Paulson would continue speaking.

    ''I'm Senior Detective Bryan Paulson - in charge when the Chief isn't here. Been a tough night so he'll be taking a break. I've already been informed of your transfer and I'm glad you're here. We always need new blood in this town. I'll put you to work right away. We got a four-nineteen in South Gotham. Come with me."

    FIFTH DEAD FLOWER: Narrow Alleyway - South Gotham

    It smelled of garbage and cat piss. It was a typical day in this street. People went and passed by going to their work place or whatever it is they may do. There were some who would stop and feed their curious eyes and then would walk away a few moments later. Dead bodies weren't a rare thing in South Gotham. It was the ghetto and crime and dead bodies were common.

    The narrow alley way was cordoned off by a police crime scene tape. An armed policeman stood by the edge of the tape to make sure nobody outside the force would come in and loot or ruin the crime scene. A detective would be seen interviewing a woman, the one who found the body while she was throwing her trash bags that morning. Behind the tapes, two crime scene investigators are studying the crime scene: taking pictures, taking swabs, looking for evidence. It has only been ten minutes since they began.

    The dead body was that of a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties with light brown hair. The body was slumped against the side of the dumpster, no clothes on but a garbage bag seemed to be wrapped around her. People from last night probably thought she was another homeless girl.

    Yet to be found by the CSI's is the clear plastic bag beneath the dumpster. Inside it is the clean clothes of the victim and her purse, containing her wallet and identification cards including her employee ID : Jenna Dickson, 24, Gotham MetroBank teller.



    Drake would smirk to himself slightly when he heard the older fellow remark to him about his attire and how he should be more formal looking, he would then extend his own hand to the detectives before replying. This is my more formal looking clothes ha-ha Drake would then hear how the chief had went thru a tough couple days and was taking a day off but that the department had been informed of my arrival and was glad to have me, I would then learn that i would be thrown into the mix of it as we would then start to leave to deal with a case that came up. Oh well beats just standing around here lead on sir... After driving for a few minutes Drake and his senior would arrive at a crime scene in south gotham, walking up to the cordoned line Drake would flash his detective badge before being let in. Walking over to the crime scene investigators Drake would then ask them the obvious what happened here and what they had managed to find out so far. Surprising to Drake they would tell him the victims body was found like this in the trash bag, putting on some doctors gloves Drake would look around himself to see the crime scene. All in all Drake got a weird vibe from this crime scene, he would voice this concern detective Paulson as he turned and started walking over to him. Sir something doesnt seem write this doesnt feel like this was done by some two bit thug this looks...... Drake wouldn't get to finish his sentence as he would step into a pot hole on the ground unknowingly causing him to trip and hit the ground with a smack. Cursing to himself slightly he would start to pick himself up before looking to his side at the dumpster to his right. Hey Paulson their looks like theirs something underneath this dumpster. Standing up and dusting himself off Drake would see if the investigators would take his advice and check underneath it.

  4. #64
    Quote Originally Posted by Kristina View Post

    ARTYOM: THE GULAG

    Doyle was not having a good day. It was probably Doyle's worst day of luck. After working for a week's straight at the docks, he was finally able to get a well deserved day off. He planned on just chilling and getting high but found himself short on finances. It was just in time to that he ran out of Id and Platinum Lily - two of the really popular stuff. His dealer refused to sell him any and suggested that he sneak around Coyote Ugly that night and he might be able to score some free stuff. Boy, was that a very bad idea... He was desperate though, and now his stupidity has landed him in some back alley club's dank basement in large chains. The room reeked of piss and blood. He almost pissed himself too when that gigantic Russian smashed the head of some random dude.

    Doyle's hands were starting to get jittery and he couldn't stop his legs from shaking. He was starting to withdraw. He wanted his drugs right now. He racked his brain and thought about it for a couple minutes. He's gonna have to take his chance. Lloyd will probably get killed but he really 'needs' his fix. Doyle would then shake up his chair and try to move it forward with forceful little jumps. He wanted to make noise to be noticed. He shouted frantically too.

    "Yo, man! I know the guy that dumps those dead hookers! I'll tell you for some Id!!"
    One of Artyom's men came into the backroom a few minutes after his little... 'display'.

    "босс, we've got something."

    Artyom paused from looking through some paperword regarding The Gulag's revenue and expenses.

    "The men from the Coyote?"

    "The Lily Killer. Man says he knows him."

    Artyom rose from his seat as though he could levitate and he walked around the desk and through the door into the hall, the other man quickly trying to follow his boss' gait. They quickly arrived back at the main room, and Artyom's eyes swept over the men bound in chairs. But only one looked up at him, the rest cowering in fear at his arrival.

    "Speak."

    "He said he would talk for a fix, босс."

    Artyom glanced at his underling, then back at the man tied to the chair. He then nodded to Dominic and Isaac.

    "Move the rest of these подонки away. Give us a bit of room to talk comfortably."

    They nodded and began dragging the other prisoners away none too gently, while the underling moved the main prisoner closer. After everyone had stopped, Artyom spoke.

    "So, you wish for a fix, and nice little shot of my precious drug?"

    Artyom began to slowly pace in front of the man.

    "It just so happens I have a little bottle right here."

    He slowly pulled out a small vial of Id, dangling it in front of the man.

    "Here."

    He opened the vial and began to hold it out to the man at an angle. But before the man could reach with his mouth to try and drink it, Artyom tipped his hand, spilling the contents on the floor between them.

    "...Oops. How clumsy of me."

    Artyom leaned back, then began to fake patting himself, as if looking for another bottle.

    "Hmmm....let's see, I think I have a-"

    He pulled another small vial from his vest.

    "Ah, here's one."

    He held it out to the man again, but this time, with a flick of his wrist, threw the vial to the underling who, even in surprise, caught it.

    "Ah, my hand slipped. But now Victor's holding it, and I can't just take it from him after giving it to him, can I? No, that would be rude."

    Artyom turned to Victor.

    "Please, help yourself to it. And , let's see..."

    He looked around for a bit, then frowned.

    "Don't have a punching bag in here. Should probably look at adding one or two in later."

    A thought seemed to come to him. He turned his gaze over to the prisoners Dominic and Isaac had dragged away from the center of the room.

    "Take that fat one, in the red shirt. He kinda looks like one. Practice a bit with him."

    Victor nodded, stunned a bit, but downed the contents of the vial while Dominic dragged the fat prisoner's chair away from the others, behind them, so they could only listen to the sounds of flesh upon flesh impacts as the man began to be beaten by the drugged up Victor, each hit sounding harder and harder.

    "Try not to kill him."

    Artyom called out, then cocked his head at the prisoner before him.

    "He's probably going to kill him."

    He whispered none to quietly. Then Artyom paused for a bit, then acted as if he'd just remembered.

    "Ah, you wanted some of my drug, right?"

    He began to slowly pat around his body, faking a search.

    "Not sure if I have any more on me."

    He mused, smiling with a shrug as he didn't 'find' anything.

    "Dominic, call Vlad, see if he can get us some more Id, we seem to be fresh out."

    Dominic smiled.

    "Probably be a half hour before he gets here boss. More if there's traffic. And you know Vlad, he's probably already high and robbing people in the back alley streets. Might be even longer before he can get more and get it over to us."

    Artyom put on a fake frown.

    "Such a shame."

    He turned to look at the prisoner, as Isaac grabbed a metal folding chair and set it down behind Artyom, who promptly sat down, the chair creaking a bit under his mass.

    "Well, we should be able to pass the time talking, right?"

    The smile he flashed the prisoner seated before him was evil enough that the devil himself would have cringed at the sight of it.
    Last edited by Lord Irvine; 07-28-2015 at 11:03 PM.

  5. #65

    DRAKE: Narrow Alleyway-South Gotham

    "Detective Paulson, I think I only have bad news for you. This looks like we have a fifth on our hands." The crime scene investigator greeted the senior detective as Drake looked around the alleyway.

    "Hey, hey. We don't know that yet. Let's wait for the autopsy, kay?" Paulson retorted as he massaged his temples. Gotham PD is neck deep in **** with all that's happening. He's sure he'll get a full set of gray hair and he isn't even in his mid 40's yet. Paulson suddenly hears a loud thumping from Drake's direction. Both the CSI and Paulson turn to take a look at Drake who seemed to have tripped on himself.

    "Don't go ruining evidence there now, Slick" The senior detective called out.

    "Hey Paulson their looks like theirs something underneath this dumpster."

    Drake points to the area and the CSI immediately goes to take a look under the dumpster. The CSI pulls it out and examines the contents of the bag. He then takes out the wallet and examines the ID, confirming it is the victim. The CSI then hands the wallet to Detective Paulson who also reads the info on the ID.

    "Well, if this is the work of the Lily Killer, then he must be moving up the ladder. The victim's a bank teller and the first four were all hookers."

    Paulson would then turn to Drake. "Good job there slick. Let's get back to the station. You need some reading to do."


    Spoiler: Lily Killer Data

    MO: overdoses victims on Platinum Lily, sexually assaults them and then kills them via strangulation,
    bodies are cleaned of evidence, including epithelials, he uses a condom

    first victim: Hooker, found at Gotham City junkheap
    second victim: Hooker, found at nightclub parking lot
    third victim: Hooker, found inside a dumpster behind a hotel (Corleone Territory)
    fourth victim: Escort from Coyote Ugly; found at Gotham City docks (Corleone Territory)






    ARTYOM: The Gulag


    "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! This guy's crazy as shiiit!"

    Doyle screamed in his head as he watched the big Russian boss spill the first bottle of ID and throw the next one at his lucky, who took it and start beating up the fat guy that was dragged behind him. Doyle drooled when the Russian boss waved the vial of Id in his face. He would have tipped himself over and licked the Id off the floor if he could.

    "THIRTY MINUTES?!! FUUUUCK! FUUUCKING NEED ID RIGHT NOW!!! FUUCK! FUUUCK!"

    Doyle cursed in his thoughts as the Russian boss and another lackey talked about how this dude, Vlad, was out with their stash. The Russian boss was right in front of him now, looking Doyle in the eye, smirking like the demon from hell about to eat up its food. The withdrawals made it hard for him though. His craving for Id was a lot stronger than his fear of this man.

    "Boss!! This guy who hangs around the docks I work at!!! H-h-h-he dumps those dead hookers! I know! I saw em! He told me some dude was paying em!! Just give me some Id, Boss! I'll give ya his name! Where he's at! Just give me some Id!"

    Doyle leaned over with pleading exciting eyes. His excited movements inched his chair a bit closer to Artyom.



    DOPE - Gotham Docks


    In the furthest corner of the Gotham City docks, lies an abandoned cargo freight. Half of its body has rusted leaving a gaping whole on one side that has been covered by a canvass material. The inside has been converted into a makeshift home with an old couch and small table that were scavenged in a junk yard. The inside of the freight was illuminated by the light of an oil lamp.

    A bearded man who appeared to be of African-American heritage sat on the couch. His clothes were tattered, faded and loose. The man was called Lloyd, at least that's the name he's adopted since coming to Gotham twenty years ago. He was a homeless man and lived his life scavenging the docks and the junkheap looking for things to sell to buy cheap burgers, whiskey and weed. The bong he used was something he luckily found at some scrap heap one day and he considers it one of his most prized possessions.

    Lloyd loaded up a bowl and lighted it with a match. He preferred matches over lighters. Matches were cheaper and gave the weed smoke a deeper flavor. He inhaled and held it as long as he could before exhaling and coughing a bit. Lloyd much preferred weed over the popular street drugs, mostly because they were too expensive and marijuana, he believed, didn't destroy his brain.

    The past few months have been lucky, thanks to some dude who drove up to him one night. The man always met up with Lloyd in dark places kept his face hidden in the shadows of the car. He gave Lloyd a big wad of cash to dump a couple bags here and there. Lloyd didnt care much that the bags wrapped the dead bodies of hookers, as long as he had the cash.

    LLoyd took another puff from his bong. "THIS IS THE LIFE!" he exclaimed as he leaned back against his dirty couch.


    Last edited by Kristina; 07-29-2015 at 03:05 PM.

  6. #66
    Quote Originally Posted by Kristina View Post
    Spoiler:
    ARTYOM: The Gulag


    "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! This guy's crazy as shiiit!"

    Doyle screamed in his head as he watched the big Russian boss spill the first bottle of ID and throw the next one at his lucky, who took it and start beating up the fat guy that was dragged behind him. Doyle drooled when the Russian boss waved the vial of Id in his face. He would have tipped himself over and licked the Id off the floor if he could.

    "THIRTY MINUTES?!! FUUUUCK! FUUUCKING NEED ID RIGHT NOW!!! FUUCK! FUUUCK!"

    Doyle cursed in his thoughts as the Russian boss and another lackey talked about how this dude, Vlad, was out with their stash. The Russian boss was right in front of him now, looking Doyle in the eye, smirking like the demon from hell about to eat up its food. The withdrawals made it hard for him though. His craving for Id was a lot stronger than his fear of this man.

    "Boss!! This guy who hangs around the docks I work at!!! H-h-h-he dumps those dead hookers! I know! I saw em! He told me some dude was paying em!! Just give me some Id, Boss! I'll give ya his name! Where he's at! Just give me some Id!"

    Doyle leaned over with pleading exciting eyes. His excited movements inched his chair a bit closer to Artyom.



    DOPE - Gotham Docks


    In the furthest corner of the Gotham City docks, lies an abandoned cargo freight. Half of its body has rusted leaving a gaping whole on one side that has been covered by a canvass material. The inside has been converted into a makeshift home with an old couch and small table that were scavenged in a junk yard. The inside of the freight was illuminated by the light of an oil lamp.

    A bearded man who appeared to be of African-American heritage sat on the couch. His clothes were tattered, faded and loose. The man was called Lloyd, at least that's the name he's adopted since coming to Gotham twenty years ago. He was a homeless man and lived his life scavenging the docks and the junkheap looking for things to sell to buy cheap burgers, whiskey and weed. The bong he used was something he luckily found at some scrap heap one day and he considers it one of his most prized possessions.

    Lloyd loaded up a bowl and lighted it with a match. He preferred matches over lighters. Matches were cheaper and gave the weed smoke a deeper flavor. He inhaled and held it as long as he could before exhaling and coughing a bit. Lloyd much preferred weed over the popular street drugs, mostly because they were too expensive and marijuana, he believed, didn't destroy his brain.

    The past few months have been lucky, thanks to some dude who drove up to him one night. The man always met up with Lloyd in dark places kept his face hidden in the shadows of the car. He gave Lloyd a big wad of cash to dump a couple bags here and there. Lloyd didnt care much that the bags wrapped the dead bodies of hookers, as long as he had the cash.

    LLoyd took another puff from his bong. "THIS IS THE LIFE!" he exclaimed as he leaned back against his dirty couch.


    The Gulag


    Artyom's face darkened slighly, but he reached into his pocket, drew out a small vial of Id, opened it, and poured a small amount into the man's mouth. He then stood up. He clapped twice, and out of another door came the small handful of men who had accompanied him earlier.

    "Watch over this group here. I don't care what you do to them, keep them alive. We still need these little birds to sing to us about what their friends have been up to."

    He peered back at the prisoner in front of him.

    "Except this one. Don't harm him. If the info he's given me is false, I'll be the one to do that."

    Artyom then crouched, bringing himself eye level, and gave him the least menacing smile he could.

    "But if what you say is true, then I might see about hooking you up with your fixes for free, provided you continue to talk to me and mine about anything you see around the docks out of the norm."

    He stood up, and his face darkened. That bottled rage he'd held onto was now starting to pour out.

    "Dominic! Viktor! Isaac! Call everyone that is free, I want them to meet us down by the docks immediately. Tonight will see the blood of the Lily Killer, and any who associate with him!"

    His voice was loud, booming throughout the room as he walked forward, the three men he'd called out to fumbling for their phones as they tried to follow him.

    The Docks


    Artyom stood waiting, a dozen men behind him, and more arriving by the minute. After he had dozens and dozens, he called out to them.

    "Search this place! Every inch of it! I want anyone who is here, officially or not, on their knees in front of me before the night is even half over!"

    "Yes босс!"

    With that, each man downed the contents of several vials, allowing large doses of Id to course through their bodies. They then charged forward like madmen, tearing through the docks like a plague.

    Artyom remained where he was, glaring out over the docks, his eyes calling for blood. Behind him, stood Dominic, Isaac, and Viktor. Even though many of their men where searching through the docks, they could not just leave their boss unattended outside their territory. Even so, they shifted uneasily. Never before had they seen the boss so angry. They had no doubts that when morning came, it would come with a red dawn.

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