Twilight Zone (Golden Earring)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1sf2CzEq0w"
1st October 2010 - Ghent (Belgium) 01:45 am - At "The Belle Vue" Hotel
A lone loud bang on the door woke him, could it be possible, had he fallen asleep
? 'Fuck fuck fuck... you are never going to make it if you loose yourself like this Alexandre' he thought as he collected himself and tried to make sense of what he had heard.
As his wits returned to him so did the fear. He tried to control it by concentrating on the problem... what had that noise been ?, a gun? some fucking next room ?... nah, the fucking had all but stopped and only some faint shouts and panting "
Oui oui oui" could be heard. Probably a flamish bitch with a walloon customer if one was to judge the bad french accent she had.
That left the door... or a gunshot.
He had been expecting a call, no more, but he was a curious cat and so he carefully opened the door to the badly lit corridor. There, lying on the floor, a huge man with squarely cropped blond hair was staining with his own blood, the orange and blue carpet that ran all along the hall with cigaret burns scattered all over.
'
A gunshot then.' he thought curiously detached of the whole scene. A huge hole with feathers stuck on it gaped from the russian guy's forehead as a third eye oozing a pinkish milkshake of red and light grey. He had been shot muffling the shot with a pillow... or so it looked. Anyway, he knew the guy... it was one of those he had come to kill.
He quickly bent and pulled the corpse into the room, looked around to check there was no one, and broke the light on the bulb in the corridor by his door, so that the blood on the floor would not be seen. He went back into the room closed the door, and looked at the man, the gun, and the backpack that someone had carefully lay on top of the mans belly.
Yevgeny, had been the man's name... he remembered. But what was he doing here ?. He picked up the gun, it was still warm, a gleaming and well cared for, a Benelli M4 Super 90, black as hell, and still warm. Alexandre picked it up and left it on his right side, on the bed after inspecting it and checking it was loaded and in perfect working condition.... it was an excellent gun for what he had come to do, one shot usually did it, and as long as he was close enough, it was practically impossible to miss.
He picked up the bag, it was a sleek small sports backpack reinforced to wear tight on on the body, the Benelli would fit inside if pulled to its main pieces, and still one could even wear a coat on top of the backpack. Inside, there was a note, a vial, some lock picks and a big knife in a plain leather strap that could be adjusted to arm or leg. He didn't do it though, he just put the knife in one of his coat's pocket, and the lock picks on the other.
That done, he took the note and the vial. It was his Virgil's handwriting, with a quickly scratched note on the back of it in another's handwriting:
"
I fed your fucking friend information about your coming back, and charming residence at the hotel... I am sure it will make things easier for you, as you will see... but thats as far as I will go, you do the rest. Soon as you receive this get your bloody ass moving and finish their bloody excuses of lives to gain yours back. Fear ends now, I pay the drink tonight, do this well, and I'll give you what's yours by right".
On the back of the paper it just said: "
This one was mighty fast, he was here 5 mins after the information leek... your friend has sold you out... 'again'. Get moving, they are coming for you". It was just signed with a letter B.
"
Fuck". He took the vial and went to the mirror with the small lavatory. His hands were shaking and he almost dropped the vial. "
Fuck Fuck Fuck" he stopped himself, closed his eyes, and looked at the mirror at his reflection. His traits were slowly changing and he could barely recognize himself on the mirror any more. His hair had grown incredibly thick, and his skin was turning thicker and thicker, and taking a leathery feel... some girls were starting to shone him, and he had always had a touch with girls.
He looked again, setting his jaw, his black eyes seemed harder, he had made a decision, he thought he had made it before but no, he was making it just now.
He opened the vial without trouble and drank it all, picked up the benelli, put the backpack and then his coat on, looked around one last time to check that he had not left anything behind that could incriminate him somehow and looked at his watch before leaving that sorry excuse of a room.
It was 2 am, and the fear was gone. He had work to do.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:11, Thu 08 Nov 2012.