09-21-2013, 04:32 AM
Yuri glanced at the slip of paper Peter handed him and shrugged. So the guy was into Mudak for over 5 grand CCD. Whatever, easy pickings. He scoffed at the assertion Peter was to stand watch -- it was a dump flat in the Red Light District, who was going to stop them from doing whatever the fuck they wanted to this guy? -- and waved a hand in Peter's direction. "Go back to the stairwell to look out, it's a safe distance away from the door."
Yeah, that would probably stick under the kid's skin, implying cowardice like that.
As Peter turned his back Yuri reached into his coat pocket and took a quick bump of coke. Just enough to set his mind right -- and he reached out and took hold of the power. He drank in all he could. He knocked on the door.
There was some scuffling within. Yeah the mark was home. His heightened senses could hear the fucker walking up to the door, looking through the peephole and backing away. Then there was a ratcheting sound, quite unmistakable as a shell being loaded into the chamber of a pump action shotgun. How the fuck does he know I'm hostile? Maybe the man was just being cautious. Or maybe the whole thing was a setup and Mudak was really out to get him offed. If that were the case, things were about to get interesting.
"Peter," Yuri called out, catching his so-called lookout's attention. "Watch this." He grinned and raised his foot to kick the door down. He brought it right adjacent to the locking mechanism and flung flows of air against it at the same time.
The door flew off its hinges and across the apartment. Yuri stepped into that shithole of a living room -- moss green shag carpet, really? -- and saw some movement against the far wall -- beneath where the door was. An arm emerged from behind the door and struggled to reach a black short-barreled 12 gauge shotgun.
More flows snatched the shotgun from the ground and brought it into Yuri's hands. He strode across the room and used the power to fling the door away, revealing a chubby balding man in his smallclothes and wide eyes upon finding himself suddenly staring down the barrel of his own gun.
Yuri wondered if this was the guy. He hadn't bothered to ask for a description. Not that he cared, really. Fucker was the guy now.
"You owe people money,"
he said to the man.
The guy looked like he was about to piss himself. He put his arms out to his side. "Which people are you with?"
Yuri planted one boot firmly on the man's right hand and pressed down, drawing a gasp of pain. "Does it fucking matter? I'm the one who's here right now."
The man tried to wriggle his fingers beneath Yuri's boot. He stared up at the gun. "I don't have it," he said.
That wasn't the right answer. Yuri wove more flows of air and stuck the shotgun right between the man's legs and fired. Wood and carpet flew in splinters. The sound was contained and amplified toward the man's ears. Yuri sniffed the air. Yeah, now the man had definitely pissed himself.
Fucker was probably half deaf by now so Yuri used the same weave to direct his own voice toward the man. "Looks like I missed. Next shot I'll aim an inch higher. What was that you said? You didn't have the money?"
He chambered another round into the shotgun and forced his boot down hard, and heard a cracking sound as bones broke.
"Okay!" the man screamed. "I have some of the money."
Yuri pulled the man up. "You have thirty seconds to get it."
He followed the guy into a bedroom. The man pulled out a lock box from underneath his bed, with obvious difficulty with only the full use of one hand. Yuri nuzzled the barrel of the shotgun against the back of the man's neck just in case he had any thoughts of funny business. The man emptied the lock box and laid out some bundles of cash on the bed.
Yuri snatched it and quickly counted it. Turned out it was about a thousand more than what he'd owed. The guy must have thought Yuri was sent by someone other than Mudak. "You're still short,"
he said. "Plus we got collection fees."
The man looked about to faint. "That's all I have! I mean it!"
Yuri stuck the barrel of the shotgun right in the man's mouth. Suck it, bitch. "What you got of value. Drugs, bling, Wallet...
He grinned. "If you can't come up with anything you probably have some healthy organs we could get some decent cash for."
That sent the man scrambling. He unloaded on his bed some gold chains, an antique pocket watch of all things...a heavy man's wedding band -- his own, by the look of it -- two Wallets and a small bag bulging with pills tinged blue. Yuri examined it and saw an imprint of a lightning bolt on each one. Some interesting designer shit, looked like.
Yuri left the Wallets -- he didn't really want to mess with fencing them right now -- and pocketed the jewelry and the pills. He opened the baggie and took one of the pills. Might as well sample it. Then he withdrew the shotgun and emptied all the shells from it, and tossed it aside. Wrapped it in flows of fire and the thing quickly became a lump of unrecognizable metal.
The man's eyes widened. "What --"
Yuri shook his head. "Yeah, probably shouldn't have shown you that. Your mistake."
One more flow of air around the neck was all it took to stop any further questions. It didn't take long for the man to stop kicking, but by then Yuri was already leaving the apartment.
Yuri found Peter outside by the stairwell and tossed him the money he'd been told to collect. "He put up a fight. We should go. What's next on our shit list today?"
Yeah, that would probably stick under the kid's skin, implying cowardice like that.
As Peter turned his back Yuri reached into his coat pocket and took a quick bump of coke. Just enough to set his mind right -- and he reached out and took hold of the power. He drank in all he could. He knocked on the door.
There was some scuffling within. Yeah the mark was home. His heightened senses could hear the fucker walking up to the door, looking through the peephole and backing away. Then there was a ratcheting sound, quite unmistakable as a shell being loaded into the chamber of a pump action shotgun. How the fuck does he know I'm hostile? Maybe the man was just being cautious. Or maybe the whole thing was a setup and Mudak was really out to get him offed. If that were the case, things were about to get interesting.
"Peter," Yuri called out, catching his so-called lookout's attention. "Watch this." He grinned and raised his foot to kick the door down. He brought it right adjacent to the locking mechanism and flung flows of air against it at the same time.
The door flew off its hinges and across the apartment. Yuri stepped into that shithole of a living room -- moss green shag carpet, really? -- and saw some movement against the far wall -- beneath where the door was. An arm emerged from behind the door and struggled to reach a black short-barreled 12 gauge shotgun.
More flows snatched the shotgun from the ground and brought it into Yuri's hands. He strode across the room and used the power to fling the door away, revealing a chubby balding man in his smallclothes and wide eyes upon finding himself suddenly staring down the barrel of his own gun.
Yuri wondered if this was the guy. He hadn't bothered to ask for a description. Not that he cared, really. Fucker was the guy now.
"You owe people money,"
he said to the man.
The guy looked like he was about to piss himself. He put his arms out to his side. "Which people are you with?"
Yuri planted one boot firmly on the man's right hand and pressed down, drawing a gasp of pain. "Does it fucking matter? I'm the one who's here right now."
The man tried to wriggle his fingers beneath Yuri's boot. He stared up at the gun. "I don't have it," he said.
That wasn't the right answer. Yuri wove more flows of air and stuck the shotgun right between the man's legs and fired. Wood and carpet flew in splinters. The sound was contained and amplified toward the man's ears. Yuri sniffed the air. Yeah, now the man had definitely pissed himself.
Fucker was probably half deaf by now so Yuri used the same weave to direct his own voice toward the man. "Looks like I missed. Next shot I'll aim an inch higher. What was that you said? You didn't have the money?"
He chambered another round into the shotgun and forced his boot down hard, and heard a cracking sound as bones broke.
"Okay!" the man screamed. "I have some of the money."
Yuri pulled the man up. "You have thirty seconds to get it."
He followed the guy into a bedroom. The man pulled out a lock box from underneath his bed, with obvious difficulty with only the full use of one hand. Yuri nuzzled the barrel of the shotgun against the back of the man's neck just in case he had any thoughts of funny business. The man emptied the lock box and laid out some bundles of cash on the bed.
Yuri snatched it and quickly counted it. Turned out it was about a thousand more than what he'd owed. The guy must have thought Yuri was sent by someone other than Mudak. "You're still short,"
he said. "Plus we got collection fees."
The man looked about to faint. "That's all I have! I mean it!"
Yuri stuck the barrel of the shotgun right in the man's mouth. Suck it, bitch. "What you got of value. Drugs, bling, Wallet...
He grinned. "If you can't come up with anything you probably have some healthy organs we could get some decent cash for."
That sent the man scrambling. He unloaded on his bed some gold chains, an antique pocket watch of all things...a heavy man's wedding band -- his own, by the look of it -- two Wallets and a small bag bulging with pills tinged blue. Yuri examined it and saw an imprint of a lightning bolt on each one. Some interesting designer shit, looked like.
Yuri left the Wallets -- he didn't really want to mess with fencing them right now -- and pocketed the jewelry and the pills. He opened the baggie and took one of the pills. Might as well sample it. Then he withdrew the shotgun and emptied all the shells from it, and tossed it aside. Wrapped it in flows of fire and the thing quickly became a lump of unrecognizable metal.
The man's eyes widened. "What --"
Yuri shook his head. "Yeah, probably shouldn't have shown you that. Your mistake."
One more flow of air around the neck was all it took to stop any further questions. It didn't take long for the man to stop kicking, but by then Yuri was already leaving the apartment.
Yuri found Peter outside by the stairwell and tossed him the money he'd been told to collect. "He put up a fight. We should go. What's next on our shit list today?"