Post by Miami on Nov 25, 2013 2:05:03 GMT -5
Jacket stood up, getting dressed in his usual attire, a pair of jeans, cyan shirt and his Letterman jacket. He looked around his room as he normally did, his NES was plugged into the TV, his guest bed was across the room, with two bedside tables separating them. He walked out of his room and into the kitchen, where he heard high-pitched beeping. He walked to his answering machine, running a hand through his short blonde hair, before pressing the button to hear the message. An automated voice said, "You have one new message," and then beeped.
"Hi, this is 'Tim' at the bakery. The cookies that you ordered should be delivered by now... A list of the ingredients is included... Make sure that you read them carefully!"
Jacket had no clue what the massage was about, but he checked the hall of his apartment anyway. He opened the front door to find a box on the ground, he tore off the tape, and opened the flaps. Inside there was a Rooster mask and a sheet of paper. The target is a briefcase. Discretion is of essence. Leave the target at point F-32, inside the dumpster. Failure is not an option. We'll be watching you.
He took the mask, and read a small slip of paper, "Richard" seemed to be the name of the mask. Jacket walked down the flight of stairs to the lobby, his DMC DeLorean was parked out the front. Jacket made his way to the street, where he unlocked his sports car, and got in it, driving to a house by a Metro City Train Line.
He pulled on the Rooster mask as he got out at his target, walking up to a door, turning the knob before bashing the door in, knocking over a Russian mobster. The Russian dropped a baseball bat, which Jacket used to beat the man's skull in. He ran through to the bathroom, where the door was slightly open. He swung the bat at the other man, breaking his ribs and leaving him to die. This man dropped a knife, which Jacket took instead of the baseball bat.
Upstairs, he looked around the corner, before lining up and throwing his knife at a man, hitting him in the eye. Back to baseball bats, he thought as he picked one up and threw it at another man, knocking him down. Nobody had a gun yet, luckily. He walked down the hall, where a Russian ran towards him, also alerting his partner. Jacket smashed one of the men, but took a hit to the chest with a baseball bat, making him gasp for air and drop his weapon. Jacket looked up at the Russian about to kill him. He reached out and tripped the man up, climbing on top of him and punching his face in.
Up the final hall, Jacket saw three men. Two mobsters, and one man in a trench-coat, holding a briefcase. He took a 5 Iron from a dead Russian, and took his chances with the remaining two. Swinging wildly, Jacket tried to keep from getting hit, however, he was unlucky. Although the two Russians died, his arm was cut slightly, not enough to be serious, but bleeding and annoying. He picked up a knife and stabbed the man wearing the trench-coat, who was frozen in fear and shock.
A rumble like an earthquake rocked the house, and the sound of a trains brakes screeched through the house. Jacket went downstairs to nvestigate, finding two Russians departing the train to take the man with the briefcase. He was spotted by one man, but he ran out a side door. Safe? The man who spotted him swung his bat at Jacket, who blocked it with the briefcase, before punching the man and swinging at him with the briefcase once more. The Russian hit the deck, out for the count.It wasn't enough, failure wasn't an option. Jacket swallowed before mounting the man and crushing his head with the briefcase. He walked back into the house, and took a swing at the other Russian from behind. This Russian wasn't knocked out through, he punched Jacket in the kidney, and tried to throw him off as Jacket mounted him, taking one last swing at his head.
Fearing the worst, Jacket ran to his car, and drove to "F-32" code for 32 Falconer Street, more specifically, the alleyway beside it. He parked his car out the front of 32 Falconer Street, and headed down the alleyway with the briefcase, depositing it in the dumpster around the corner. As he did so, a familiar voice was heard.
"Who's there? I can hear you! I know you're there!" Bum screamed, furious that someone has invaded his alley. Jacket turned the corner and saw a homeless man wielding a baseball bat. It was the Bum from earlier. From a pissed off hobo to rage incarnate. Jacket took a swing at the man, knocking him to the floor and taking his baseball bat, to crack his head in.
It was all too much, Jacket was feeling sick and staggered towards his car, not ten meters from it,he pulled off his Rooster mask, and got to his hands and knees, vomiting on the pavement. He wiped his mouth and got in his car, driving to the store where his friend, nicknamed Beard worked.
"Hi there, man! Haven't seen you around. Thought something might have happened to you. You seemed really down over losing your girlfriend. Don't remember seeing you after that..." Beard took a deep breath, "Maybe we could talk about something else... So, out for a midnight snack, huh? Oh, don't worry about it, it's on the house... Good to see you! Have a nice night!"Jacket cracked a weak smile before taking a six-pack of beer from a shelf nearby.
He needed to go home, tonight was rough on him. Hell, if he was lucky, when he got home, maybe COPS would be on.
"Hi, this is 'Tim' at the bakery. The cookies that you ordered should be delivered by now... A list of the ingredients is included... Make sure that you read them carefully!"
Jacket had no clue what the massage was about, but he checked the hall of his apartment anyway. He opened the front door to find a box on the ground, he tore off the tape, and opened the flaps. Inside there was a Rooster mask and a sheet of paper. The target is a briefcase. Discretion is of essence. Leave the target at point F-32, inside the dumpster. Failure is not an option. We'll be watching you.
He took the mask, and read a small slip of paper, "Richard" seemed to be the name of the mask. Jacket walked down the flight of stairs to the lobby, his DMC DeLorean was parked out the front. Jacket made his way to the street, where he unlocked his sports car, and got in it, driving to a house by a Metro City Train Line.
---
He pulled on the Rooster mask as he got out at his target, walking up to a door, turning the knob before bashing the door in, knocking over a Russian mobster. The Russian dropped a baseball bat, which Jacket used to beat the man's skull in. He ran through to the bathroom, where the door was slightly open. He swung the bat at the other man, breaking his ribs and leaving him to die. This man dropped a knife, which Jacket took instead of the baseball bat.
Upstairs, he looked around the corner, before lining up and throwing his knife at a man, hitting him in the eye. Back to baseball bats, he thought as he picked one up and threw it at another man, knocking him down. Nobody had a gun yet, luckily. He walked down the hall, where a Russian ran towards him, also alerting his partner. Jacket smashed one of the men, but took a hit to the chest with a baseball bat, making him gasp for air and drop his weapon. Jacket looked up at the Russian about to kill him. He reached out and tripped the man up, climbing on top of him and punching his face in.
Up the final hall, Jacket saw three men. Two mobsters, and one man in a trench-coat, holding a briefcase. He took a 5 Iron from a dead Russian, and took his chances with the remaining two. Swinging wildly, Jacket tried to keep from getting hit, however, he was unlucky. Although the two Russians died, his arm was cut slightly, not enough to be serious, but bleeding and annoying. He picked up a knife and stabbed the man wearing the trench-coat, who was frozen in fear and shock.
A rumble like an earthquake rocked the house, and the sound of a trains brakes screeched through the house. Jacket went downstairs to nvestigate, finding two Russians departing the train to take the man with the briefcase. He was spotted by one man, but he ran out a side door. Safe? The man who spotted him swung his bat at Jacket, who blocked it with the briefcase, before punching the man and swinging at him with the briefcase once more. The Russian hit the deck, out for the count.It wasn't enough, failure wasn't an option. Jacket swallowed before mounting the man and crushing his head with the briefcase. He walked back into the house, and took a swing at the other Russian from behind. This Russian wasn't knocked out through, he punched Jacket in the kidney, and tried to throw him off as Jacket mounted him, taking one last swing at his head.
Fearing the worst, Jacket ran to his car, and drove to "F-32" code for 32 Falconer Street, more specifically, the alleyway beside it. He parked his car out the front of 32 Falconer Street, and headed down the alleyway with the briefcase, depositing it in the dumpster around the corner. As he did so, a familiar voice was heard.
"Who's there? I can hear you! I know you're there!" Bum screamed, furious that someone has invaded his alley. Jacket turned the corner and saw a homeless man wielding a baseball bat. It was the Bum from earlier. From a pissed off hobo to rage incarnate. Jacket took a swing at the man, knocking him to the floor and taking his baseball bat, to crack his head in.
It was all too much, Jacket was feeling sick and staggered towards his car, not ten meters from it,he pulled off his Rooster mask, and got to his hands and knees, vomiting on the pavement. He wiped his mouth and got in his car, driving to the store where his friend, nicknamed Beard worked.
"Hi there, man! Haven't seen you around. Thought something might have happened to you. You seemed really down over losing your girlfriend. Don't remember seeing you after that..." Beard took a deep breath, "Maybe we could talk about something else... So, out for a midnight snack, huh? Oh, don't worry about it, it's on the house... Good to see you! Have a nice night!"Jacket cracked a weak smile before taking a six-pack of beer from a shelf nearby.
He needed to go home, tonight was rough on him. Hell, if he was lucky, when he got home, maybe COPS would be on.