1 Jacob Fost
"What do you mean it isn't eno-HUK.''
The strange sound was the sound of someone getting rudely interrupted with an elbow straight to the throat.
Said person dropping to their knee's clutching at their throat. Holding it, they were just some small-time thug, never experienced pain before and he wasn't trained at all.
Standing above him was a large man, standing 6' 6', weighing 284 pounds. This man for lack of better terms? Strong.
''Come on you fairy. Up up up.'' The man said that when he had grabbed the kneeling person with one hand, lifting him like he was paper. Pushing the jacket he held forward to force the guy to lay across the counter.
''See, Alice, can I call you Alice? I'm going to call you Alice.''
''Alice, I paid for 100 tablets of morphine. Which, you may not know what that's quite a bit of money. Per 30 mg pill on the street is about 30 ish dollars, a hundred pills come out to three thousand dollars. I even added an extra five hundred since you got them quite fast. Purity didn't matter all that much, because even the trash in the back alley is good enough to help numb a little bit."
The large man held up a hand. Tapping his finger on the table to where what looked to be a pencil case was.
''But see, each of those little bottles in here is supposed to hold about 20 pills, but low and behold the first I open is missing three? But I see five, and that would mean that all five would need to be full. To get the hundred pills that I paid for.''
The man, who was named Alice was coughing, trying to pill in breath while his throat was swelling and his back was at an awkward angle was hard.
''You could've even been smart as to put the missing pills at the back, because at least then I wouldn't have found out until later, and that would've given you at least a week to make tracks before I came to kill you.''
Alice's eyes filled with fear, shaking softly.
''But see, no Alice you, someone with no backing, no friends, nobody to call your own, decided to try and piss off the one guy, everyone says not to piss off. So here is what I'm going to do."
The large man reached over, pulling the stack of money off the counter. ''I'm going to go ahead and take this money, that you so kindly decided to give me back for not fulfilling my request like a good service should. I'm also going to take what tablets you DO have, and I'm going to leave you alive, good? Good.''
The large man pocketed the money, the pencil case and released the man. Turning only to walk away into the darkness of the warehouse, a slid flapping noise as the cheap flip-flops the man wore slapped against his soles.
The big man in a threatening trenchcoat, only ruined by the fact he wore flip-flops.
As the 'Flipping' retreated. Alice looked up, his eyes burning with hatred as he spat out. ''I'll kill that fucker! I may not have anyone to call up, but I know where he fucking lives! I'll sneak in while he's sleeping an-''
A hand landed on his shoulder, it was a dark gloved hand as a large form slowly leaned down beside him. The man's face was handsome, but a few scars were across his cheek and down the side of his face.
A rogueish, manly type was handsome as he spoke. ''You'll what... Alice? See, I was planning to leave you alive, but see I forgot my phone, and when I come back you're talking out loud, for revenge? tut tut tut."
The large man released a soft clicking of his tongue, right before a gunshot was heard as Alice slumped to the floor. Right behind the head like an execution. As the large man began to rummage through his pockets, pulling out some random bags of pills, what looked to be drugs, a switchblade, and a wallet full of cash, taking just the cash.
As the large man stood up to look at the work he released a sigh. ''Damn, there I go killing again."
He popped a tablet of morphine, grunting as he began to walk away. Someone paying attention would see the man had a slight limp.
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Tossing the cash, pencil case, switchblade, the bags of drugs, and a watch onto the table, an old voice spoke out. ''Any troubles?''
''None that could be solved without kindness, morphine's in the pencil case."
A pair of dark old hands reached forward, taking the morphine case and taking a few out. Despite the obvious age of the hands, they were steady.
''Thank you, Jacob.''
''No need Old man.'' As the large man, now named Jacob set down one final thing, a holster with a 1911, painted dark with a wooden finished handle. Etched in silver across the slide being 'Kindness' in italics.
Seeing the money the old man spoke. ''You walked out of here with only three thousand, a single stack... That doesn't look like three thousand.''
Jacob looked at the money on the table, in fact, it was now a little over 9 thousand. Jacob released a low chuckle before he spoke. ''What can I say? It's my civilian duty to help clean the streets.''
''They'll be asking questions again Jacob.''
''Let them, they won't find anything, and the day they do? I won't put up a fight and I'll go willingly. I'll leave my fate to the people high enough on the latter to care about all that decides it for me." He took off his trench coat, putting it onto a hook by the door across the room.
''Going to lay down and get some shuteye. See you in the morning old man, looking forward to what you cook.''
The old man released a chuckle, his old, weathered appearance still holding a kindness few could boast about nowadays.
''Daisy called.''
Jacob stopped, confusion briefly flashing over his face before he grinned. ''Did she now? Well, must mean she decided she did want some discipline in her life after all... Alright, I'll head over there in the morning.''
The old man laughed, a deep hearty one before he spoke. ''Before or after breakfast?"
''Eggs and bacon before women. Never do a job-hungry.''
That sent the old man into louder laughter, Jacob entering into a small but still comfortable room, large enough to hold a bed, a desk with a computer, and a T.V. mounted to the wall, just as Jacob fell into the bed. As if on demand, he was out like a light.
