Thread: (Dead)

Re The Gang closed The van moved at a decent speed as they drove out of the city, east towards the ocean. There was nothing but darkness in the back of the van, no windows in the sides and generally few traffic encountered, so there was barely any noise except the deep hum of the engine and the sounds of the men breathing as they sat around the restrained woman. After an hour of driving, Keith pulled off onto a sandy dirt road, old warehouses and docks off to either side. Eventually, they came to a secluded old beach house, ramshackle and nestled between the dunes. A small pier led into the water from the beach in front of the house and a few old boats sat over turned in the sand beside it. Keith parked the van beside the house, obscuring it from view of the road he'd just been on. Nothing but the sound of waves and the occasional horn of a ship could be heard as the men hauled the girl out of the van and into the pitch black night. Letting her stand on her own beside the van, the men surrounded her, merely dark shapes against the shadow of night. Move, Keith muttered curtly, before jabbing her in the back with the muzzle of his gun, herding her into the house. Once inside, they took her through to the back room next to the kitchen, everything wooden and old, wall paper peeling, paint chipping, and a few spots of mold here and there. The wooden floors thumped at the sounds of the men's footsteps as they followed Keith and the woman. When he turned on the yellow light to the back room, the light-bulb hovering in the middle of the ceiling flickered briefly. In the middle of the room sat an old wooden chair and a table with several violent looking instruments on it. Keith wasn't exactly sure of the whole plan of what they were going to do with the girl, just that Creasy wanted to know who she had talked to and everything she'd said to them and he'd made it clear they were to use any means necessary. Keith wasn't really into torture, but for him, this was basically a life or death situation and he would do what he had to in order to get inside her head. As they entered the room, Keith poked her with the gun again and said, Sit, indicating the chair. The men from the van, 4 of them in all, followed him into the room and two stood at the door, while the other two stood off to the side of the room, folding their arms and watching. None of them wore ski masks now and a few had taken off their jackets and gloves. It was that alone that should have informed the girl, that no matter how things went, they were not afraid of her identifying them when this was over She wasn't getting out of here alive. All of the men were rough looking, with hard faces and scars and tattoos, and all stood with the calm alertness that spoke of a readiness for violence while appearing at ease. When the woman sat down in the chair, Keith stood over her, looking down into her eyes with a steady gaze, the gun held at his side. There's no one to hear you if you scream, Anne, he said to her in a soft baritone voice. I could fire this gun a dozen times and there's no one close enough or who cares enough to call the police. So, you can scream and yell as much as you want, but it'll probably get you smacked upside the head, because that's an annoying sound that none of us here enjoys. I'm gonna take the gag off and we're going to talk, alright? He looked at her as if expecting an answer, some sort of sign that she understood the situation and agreed.