An early appointment (271 hits)
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Submitted by whiskeyjack (View user info) at 2006-09-01 13:54:47 EDT
If you were to look at the corner of Markham and Evergreen at exactly 2:17 am on August 27th you wouldn't see a man standing and waiting. You wouldn't see him because he doesn't want you to see him, and he happens to be very persuasive even if you don't know it.
Still if he did allow you to see him you still would not have been that impressed at first. He's a fairly tall man; about 6'3", and a whip like slender frame. He wore a simple black suit with a dark grey shirt and tie underneath and a pair of polished smart black dress shoes. He is bald and his facial features give him such an appearance as to make him seem familiar though you've never met him. The only thing noticeable about him was his eyes, specifically the fact that they were completely void of color. The only other notable thing about him was the black business briefcase he held in his right hand.
Marcus Quaid started his day much as he had started every day for the past seven months. He got out of bed, turned on his stereo, grabbed whatever didn't look rotten out of his fridge, lit a joint, and started watching TV.
"Mutha fuck, what time is it? Fucking 1! Shit I missed Price is Right."
He was just walking out of the bathroom; still teary eyed after what he "dropped" in there, when his cell went off.
"Yo?"
"Sup boi. You fuckin up, ja lazy punk? Shit you take a while."
"Nigga fuck you. Why you callin anyway? Whats up?"
"Shit. Nothin just kickin wit' da boys. Seriously yo I need you to hook a brotha up. I got people callin me looking for shit. So you in?"
"Shit ya nigga. As long as they got money I got the shit they need. I be over in a sec."
At the corner of Markham and Evergreen the man in the black suit was pulling a thick file out of his briefcase. He started going through it occasionally stopping and glancing at a page whenever something caught his interest; whatever the may be.
"Hmm...definitely lust. He's got that in spades. And pride, he has enough of that for everyone in a mile radius of him. Hmmm...definitely the 2nd already."
Marcus adjusted his pistol in the back of his pants as he stepped out of his candy red customized Navigator. After stopping to quickly admire his candy red rims; as he does every time he gets in or out of his car, he casually walked up to the three men sitting on the steps of a small dirt colored house.
"Sup niggas?"
"Holla"
"What up?"
"Sup Big M"
"So whats this about you boys needin a hook up? All ja gotta do is holla and ya boi can hook you up."
"Shit yeah nigga. Now you got shit for these niggas that'll be comin by in a minute?"
"Yeah man. I got all that shit covered. Who this shit for anyway?"
"Man, you know Ben Sanders?"
"Hahaha. Yeah I know that ugly mutha fucka. Didn't we tag team his fuckin ho of a sister last month?"
"Hahaha. Yeah that's him. Him and some of his boys ran a little low I guess so they need something to tide them over till they get their shit."
"Shit I dunno about that man. I mean that's kinda ma fuckin competition ya know?"
"Man come on. I told these guys you were cool. Man these fuckers been getting strong lately so you'd best not cross them."
"Nigga fuck them, and Ben's ho of a sister."
"Hmm, plenty of anger and wrath here as well, there's the 5th. My goodness he's dug quite the little whole for himself hasn't he?"
The man in the black suit looked away from the file in his hand to glance at his watch. 2:12am.
"Hmmm, soon enough. I wonder what else there is?"
Marcus stood up when he saw a group of five men approaching. He quickly reached back and double checked his pistol to make sure it was there.
"Yo, you Ben?"
"Yeah. You Marcus?"
"Yeah, but niggas just call me M. So what you need?"
"You got a quarter lb?"
"Shit yeah, and I ain't talking bout the cheeseburger neither son."
"Hahaha. Nice nice. Well then hook me up."
"Sure thang. Anything else? Just holla."
"Nah. Though I had been meaning to come talk to you."
"Oh yeah about what?"
"Yo operation you got goin on. I was thinking it be good for both of us if you were to maybe join up wit my crew."
"Oh you do, do you? Well I ain't interested. I'm just gonna keep on doin my only lil' thing so you can take yo shit and get da fuck off."
"Listen punk, we can take yo "lil thang" anytime we feel like it so you best be showing some respect."
"No you listen nigga, it's in yo best interest to leave right da fuck now. And when you go holla at yo sista fo me. I know she didn't think my "thang" was so little. Hahaha."
"Mutha fu..."
Unfortunately for Ben Sanders he was unable to finish what he was saying as he now found himself staring down the barrel of Marcus Quaid's .45. Marcus had whipped it out as soon as he saw where Ben was going. Marcus attributed him surviving to the ripe age of 23 to being faster than everyone else and by not waiting for something to go wrong before he acted.
"As I was saying nigga, it's in you're best interest to be leaving right the fuck now."
Ben and his crew then slowly back up until they had reached the side walk. From there they turned and started to walk away as quickly as possible without running. But Ben couldn't help leaving Marcus with just one small parting gift.
"We'll be seeing you real soon chump."
"Fuck you"
The man in the black suit returned to reading through the file in his hand, occasionally stopping to read points of interest. At one point he gazes over a particular spot for a while. Whatever it is it seems to have captured his full attention.
"Hmmm, and there's the 9th right there. I'll have to ask about this one."
He then looked back at his watch. 2:15am. When he looked up he saw Marcus Quaid walking up Markham coming towards him.
"Ah, right on time as always."
At 2:15am Marcus Quaid was walking home from a party. Note that he was walking and not driving. The reason he didn't drive to a party wasn't because he was worried about the perils of drinking and driving; he did that quite often. He walked because he was worried that some other drunken party go-er might do something to harm his precious automobile.
As he's about to cross the street he notices the car that had been coming up behind him was moving unusually slow. He looks back and his eyes fill with terror and disbelief as he sees Ben Sanders in the passenger seat of a green Cadillac.
Marcus tries his best to run but even he's not faster than a car. He suddenly comes to a grinding halt when he feels the sharp pain of three bullets punching into his back and chest.
"Ah Mr. Quaid is it? I've been expecting you."
"What the fuck? What just happened? Who da fuck are you cracka?"
"I have countless names. The Grim Reaper, The Endless Sleep, and not to mention all the ones mortal tongues cannot pronounce. Still for the sake of convience you may simply call me Death. It's nice to meet you."
"D-d-death? Ah shit son. Ah shit son no. No no no no no. I can't be fuckin dead."
"Well you do remember being shot by Benjamin Sanders don't you?"
"Ya-yeah..."
"Well then there you have it. Now I've been meaning to ask you something..."
"Hold up, hold up just one second now. Man can't you do something. Please man I can't be dead. I'll give you anything you want man, fuckin anything. Guns, drugs, money, fuck you can even have my car man. Just please help me."
"I am helping you Mr.Quaid, but the power of life is not mine to wield. I simply make room for it. Now as I was saying I've been meaning to ask you about your sister."
At hearing this Marcus stopped his sobbing and become suddenly stone still.
"What about her? I haven't seen her in two years."
"Oh I know that. What I meant to ask is if you knew that when you gave her her first dose of cocaine when she was younger the ramifications later on. Also if you knew that when you gave her that $100 and gram of heroine when she came to you crying and recently raped that she would go out and kill herself by overdosing?"
"Nah man. Nah, that shit ain't my fault. I couldn't keep protecting her. She wasn't my problem."
"Hmmm, the thing is Mr. Quaid while you may not have directly killed her you did facilitate her suicide. And while it might not be up to me to place judgment, I would bet that what you did is deemed traitorous. So that concludes our meeting Mr. Quaid. You now go on to your judgment and whatever fate awaits you there. Goodbye, and please say hello to Minos for me."
With his goodbyes said Death flicked his hand and watched as Marcus Quaid fell into a newly formed and fairly dark whole in the ground. He then looked at his watch.
"2:18am. Hmmm, who's next"
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Submitted by whiskey_jack (user info) at 2006-09-01 13:55:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
fuck this didn't work