By: Andrew Thomas Prenger
“Fuck you, motherfucker, you buyin’ this shit!”
“I ain’t payin’ that much for it, asshole! Why you so greedy today?”
Blood Shadow rolled over in his army cot, squeezing his pillow on his head. No matter how hard he pressed he could still hear the two junkies outside his apartment window arguing about the price of half-an-ounce of coke. It was way too early for that kind of crap. He and Dana Devastation stayed up late the previous night celebrating a successful bank robbery. Too much booze and too much rough sex with his Amazonian girlfriend left him with a massive headache and legs shooting with pain every time he moved them.
Who the hell buys that small amount of coke at 6:30 on a Saturday morning?! he thought. Assholes!
They had been going on an hour now. Something had to be done if he was ever going to get any sleep. He had an assassination scheduled that night and he wanted to be in top form. Well, as good as he could be in any case.
Gingerly he sat up and put his legs over the side of his cot. Dana got pretty drunk the night before. She let loose and had no restraint. He admitted that it was hot to watch her lose control, but despite his aiming power, he had no real extra augmentation; he was still human. His entire body was covered in large purple bruises. Normally not one to give into pain he still winced when he stood up.
He was so concerned with the state of his own person that he forgot about Dana. He took a step and tripped over her. She was still deep asleep in her sleeping bag. She didn’t stir. Nothing short of an atomic bomb would wake her up until she was good and ready. He was so jealous of that he debated smothering her with his pillow
He shambled over to his closet. Inside was a selection of different rifles of various calibers. He thought about it a moment before selecting the M24. Definitely overkill, but so was every other gun in the closet. At least it had a suppressor on it. He closed the closet and padded to the kitchen. He opened a drawer filled with boxes of cartridges. He pulled out two rounds and loaded his rifle.
Blood Shadow opened up his window and slowly crawled out onto the fire escape. He could see the two assholes yelling at each other at the mouth of the alley. The sun hadn’t completely risen. The sky was turning a bright orange, but the streets themselves remained dark. He raised the rifle and exhaled. He fired, popping one of the junkies right in the temple. He cycled the action, ejecting the spent shell and loading in another. The remaining junkie just realized what happened when Blood Shadow shot him in the forehead.
Quiet returned…for a few precious seconds until the neighborhood dogs started barking. He could deal with that. They weren’t close, it wasn’t as loud and, unlike the junkies, the dogs would eventually shut up. Blood Shadow crawled back into his apartment and returned the gun to the closet. He wasn’t worried about police action. Responding to a report of shootings in this part of the city would take quite awhile. Long enough to catch up on his sleep.
It was time to find a new apartment anyway.