Thread: To Catch A Murderer (Athene & Razgriz)

Oh fuck. What am I doing? The hell's gonna happen to me?! Each question got louder in Justin's head and caused his heart to pound harder in his chest. A bit of sweat formed and slowly trailed down his forehead. For all his bravado and punk mannerisms, he wasn't the type to scary easily, if at all. He'd survived prison for several years now. There were few things he could ever have thought to be more terrifying than that. Who knew being yanked off the streets and forced to make what should be an obvious decision suddenly dominate being incarcerated? Certainly not the young man and all he could do was manipulate his muscles, ensuring they properly worked. You'll never get out of here if you don't try ... Somewhere in between grabbing the door knob and moving the door open, Justin's eyes had subconsciously closed. .... When he felt nothing but a slight breeze caress his skin, he opened his eyes. They widened, first in shock, followed by disbelief and an overwhelming sensation of relief finally completing how he looked. He stumbled forward, leaning against the closest wall and using it for support. What the fuck almost happened? Goddamn, do I even wanna know? Part of Justin did and the other ... had a feeling he needed to just shut up and count his blessings. His head tilted up as he thought on the last few minutes, which definitely felt a lot longer, no doubt due to the tranquillizer's effects still lingering within him. Holy fuck ... he muttered, shuddering and panting as his head lowered and gasped as a new and much more pleasant - but still very unexpected - display came in front of his eyes. Money! And a shit ton of it! ... Okay, fine. Several hundred wasn't the most, per se. But to just hand over to someone who didn't have an official job? Yeah. It definitely was quite a bit when one put it that way. Trembling hands reached out and yanked the bills off, partially expecting that to somehow be trapped or even worse. Fake .... something of the like. When it stayed in his hands, he elicited another content sigh, steadily beginning to relax. ... Only to jump as the man's voice rang in his ears once again. No more! he instinctively said, tensing up only to calm down as he began to hear the full message. He ... had been serious?! This stranger really wanted a test subject for those tranquilizers? That didn't sit well with Justin. Not at all. Even with all the legal trouble he'd gotten into, he could only start imagining a number of reasons why the man had needed a guinea pig. Suffice to say, none of the thoughts were anything close to decent ones. .... Shouldn't you say something? ... But ... what? He had literally no idea of whom had drugged him and even less knowledge of what exactly almost happened. Guesses didn't mean shit. Finally ... if he told the cops who he was, he'd just get arrested again. His head moved as Justin decided that even if he wanted to help, there wasn't really any way of being able to properly do that. So, he took the money, put it away, and ran, albeit doing so with a very tight knot that was clenching in his stomach. He hated himself for the first time in years. But he definitely wasn't about to waste this opportunity fuck and no. Thus, while the opportunity to get away stayed, he intended to keep it. His best bet was to hope that no one would have the same amount of misfortune he had with running into this creep. 10th August, 2017 The next two weeks passed and as far as anyone living in Missouri City, Texas, could figure, life was normal enough. Everyone went about their daily routines, in and out of work and school. Although Missouri City wasn't as huge as - say Houston - it did still have its fair share of shady places. Strip clubs. Bars. Other places that encouraged and hosted sinful activities. The truth of the matter was most of the women - and even men - who worked there actually did so not for pleasure, but money. Nothing more, nothing less. After all, we gotta make a living, don't we? The musings came from twenty-three year old Nancy Miller who had been somewhat lucky to avoid needing to resort immediately to being an escort. Some could argue, though, she was close enough. Instead, she was a model for a small, local magazine. One that focused on BDSM and other kinks. Thankfully, it meant she never had to actually sleep with a man. Well ... not because work made her. No, she did that herself, if and when she wished to. But it wasn't a 'professional requirement' of sorts, and even if it wasn't much, she took a lot of pride in knowing it wasn't mandatory for her. Still, in the end, she really wasn't much better than any hooker or dancer that could be found in the city. And the judgments of Texas's society only made things that much more worse for her life and Nancy's habits. She drank often not all day, every day. But perhaps more than anyone in her line of work should end up consuming. To try to make up for her mistakes, Nancy compromised with herself and only had liquor when she was off duty. It seemed fair enough. And this way, she was just ... treating herself. Or that was how she viewed things, anyway. Alright! We're done for the night! Thanks, sweetie! Nancy fought the urge to frown when her boss addressed her by that term. It irritated the fuck out of her. That nickname was something she thought should be used by a lover, or someone as close to that as possible. Either way, he wasn't that type of man. He was supposed to be a professional to her. Thanks I look forward to seeing how these all turn out. Oh, you'll look amazing. Just like you always do. I try. Later Flashing Rick a teasing grin and flirty wave, she turned on her feet and exited the small studio, entering the streets of Missouri City. She had been trying various lingerie outfits out and had been put in a good number of provocative poses. Now, she emerged into the public, clad in her own ... suggestive outfit of sorts. The sun was beginning to set and as such, anyone nearby could easily see her. They'd literally have to be blind not to. Thus, the top and skirt combination earned her a good share of whistles and cat calls, which were either ignored or responded to with a mere wink. But that was as far as she'd voluntarily go. Thankfully, her home was close by, about two blocks away. It made walking in heels less of a pain and easier to tolerate. I need a drink, she muttered. Ugh. That man, I swear .... drives me up the walls sometimes. And definitely not in the best of ways ... Nancy inwardly added, chuckling softly as a rather lewd picture entered her mind involving taking that thought to a new and literal level.