Thread: Succumbing To The Forbidden (Disturbing & darkangel76)

Listen, man. I honestly don't care. You give me my money or you're getting a bullet through your skull next tuesday... A tall, well built man stood over a local store owner. Medium length black hair nearly covered his ears, meeting a thin layer of stubble which hid the rest of his face. He smirked down at the man, laughing as he cowered against the wall. Pathetic. The man on the floor was a little worse for the wear. One of his eyes had swelled shut, the other one irritated by dirt that had been thrown into it not so long ago. Jim, man, don't be so harsh... the store owner smiled up at the man weakly, scrambling to get on his feet. Jim pushed him down with the tip of his bat, shaking his head. Harsh? he yelled, laughing. I'm not the harsh one, that would be my friend's up at the Club.....and It's Jake, remember that. The store owner nodded, pressing himself against the wall. Alright, Ji- Jake, whatever!! I'll get your money just.... he stuttered for a moment, incoherently tripping over his words. ...just put down the bat, alright?!? Jake nodded, lowering his weapon and watching as the store owner scrambled to his feet, staying stuck against the wall. You'll get your money next week... he said, gaining some courage now that he was on his two feet. Now get outa my store, you're bad for business. Jake obliged, strutting out of the store with an air of authority. The man had bled, getting a splotch of blood on his white button up shirt. He frowned, making sure to break a window as he left. The glass shattered, frightening a group of high school boys from their seats and out the door. Soon outside, they ran down the street like the wimps they were. Kids these days had no idea how to fight. Arriving out in the cool night air, he let out a sigh. Taking hold of his weekly pack of cigarettes and lighting one made most of his angry feelings go away, although not the sinking feeling that constantly bothered him. The gang was his home, his family, he would never leave....yet his shrinking conscience told him from time to time that no, he was better than this. He finished his cigarette and flicked it away, walking to his car, parked and ready down the street. In a matter of minutes he was back at a building infamously named the Club among the more shady members of the community. Sure, it had a name...a front cover where the more well-off people in town went to drink and party, served by scantily clad women and dressed up gang members, but to most it was just the Club...always moving, always hidden away from the eyes of the privileged and the hand of the law. That was where he was headed tonight, working at the bar to make sure neither went near the back room..and more important, that there was no interference from rival gangs. Soon, he was up and out of his car. Dressed, combed, shaved, proper. He walked inside, through the dangerous back rooms filled with crime and debauchery. Drugs, bought cheap from undisclosed locations and sold for tremendous profit to the rebellious teenaged children who lived in the nice part of town. Past the groups of whores, sent out for the same reason as the drugs. Exiting through a locked metal door, he found himself on the nice side of the building. The club, inside of the bar. He relieved the current bartender A surly bodyguard who had always hated suits and began to work. I always feel like my posts are terrible. I blame that for my lateness. That....and World of Warcraft.