Chapter 1: The Unforgiving Streets of Chicago.
With a click and a clunk, I was bathed in sunlight for the first time in hours. The warm daylight felt so good, so alien, even if I had hated it before. As my eyes adjusted, I looked up at two faces, one familiar, one not.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot he was in there…” The short haired blonde, standing just to the right, was the wicked demon of a girl named Stella. A few hours before, she folded me in here at knife point, an act of mercy considering the tiny nick on my neck.
“Star, why is there a man in the trunk?” The second girl asked, her voice almost annoyed more than anything else. She was a real raven haired beauty with amber eyes, and she looked down at me with a cocktail glare of confusion and anger. She had in her hands a suitcase and a cowboy hat befitting John Wayne.
“I can explain, but eh… we should probably do it on the road!” Stella said with a playful giggle as she went to shut the trunk again.
“Wait, help! Please let me out! Help!” I yelped desperately as the trunk once again clicked shut.
“Star, you better have a good reason for this!” I could hear the raven haired girl say, her voice muffled through the metal.
“Look, we'll talk about it in the car. Throw your stuff in the back seat for now,” Star instructed. After the doors opened and shut, the 289ci V8 motor started, silencing my cries and pleads with the throaty roar of its exhaust.
It was just a few hours ago before the sun was up, that very sound had attracted me to this car. A gorgeous late-model Mustang Fastback with the most glossy and deep black paint I had ever seen. It was beautiful, as was the doll driving it. An easy score for a reckless fool like me, or so I thought. .32 caliber in hand, I had no idea of the mistake I was making as the girl opened her eyes from her slumber.
I had no intention of killing her. All I wanted was her car, and this gun was little more than an insurance policy that it would happen. Most people freeze up, their body pausing as their heart pumps violently to fuel their fight or flight reflexes. Not this girl, she looked back at me relaxed and cool as a cucumber. Her eyes hardly bothered at all as they stared down the barrel of a gun. I realize now, that glare was my warning, but greed drove me onward.
“Out of the car doll, this one is mine!” I ordered. Moving slowly yet deliberately, she opened the door and stepped out, keeping her back to me. I could see her hands, raised in a low surrender as she stepped aside, clearly the way for me to slip behind the wheel. Gun trained on her head, I moved in, sliding along the sleek body of the car, trying to slither my way into the seat. I got one foot into that before she got me! Like a snake attacking from the grass, she slammed herself backwards into me with surprising force. My arm bent inward, pointing the pistol between our left shoulders as she pulled something out of her pocket with her right hand, something who’s blade caught the moon’s light as she prepared to slam it into my ribs. Realizing what was coming, I dove to the ground as she spun, a razor sharp knife slicing effortlessly through my cheek.
Now it was my heart was pounding, panic setting in as blood flowed down to my lips, and I hadn't even hit the ground yet. I threw my arms out to catch myself, my legs already starting their locomotion to run for my life. But a swift kick between them ended any hope of escape as my lungs exhaled via a scream. Now on the ground, my balls busted, my face bleeding, I rolled over my last line of defense in my hands.
I never wanted to kill anybody, I never did, I swear… My thoughts echoed again and again in my mind as I swung the pistol around. Panic, fear, pain all working make my heart race and my arms shake. I couldn’t even see the pistol, let alone the sights, instead all I could see was her ear to ear smile as she loomed over me. She laughed maniacally, effortlessly twirling this knife in her fingers like it was a pen. I was a bug, or some other meaningless inconvenience to be stomped out under her boots, if I was lucky... She sent my gun flying like a football through the field goal posts with another kick, down the street and out of sight; and then she dropped onto me stopping only inches away from plunging the knife into my neck with both hands.
“You just made the worst mistake of your life!” She chirped gleefully, almost excitedly. I could see it in her eyes, this lust to kill.
“Oh my god, you're a fucking badass!” I croaked. I'm not totally sure why I said that exactly, but it got a laugh out of her. As she sat on my stomach, knife inches from my throat, nothing I could do could get her off of me. So I just stared up, panting, terrified that this was the end.
“I like that! Maybe I'll carve that into your gravestone? ‘Killed by a fucking badass…’ My name is Stella Star by the way, and I'll be taking your life away!” she laughed, gently dragging the knife’s dull side across my throat.
“Please don't kill me, please I'm begging you! I'm so sorry!” I cried, and I truly mean I cried. The tears coming out of my eyes might as well have been rivers, but the eyes that stared back down at me knew no mercy.
“I really want to, you know? I don't appreciate thugs like you pointing guns at me.”
“I'm sorry, I truly am… I just wanted your car!” I explained, as if that admission would suddenly change her mind.
“Is that so? Well, word of advice, maybe avoid carjacking a member of the Assassin’s Legion… well- I was going to say next time?” She held the knife up to her chin as if to think before spinning it in her hand so the blade was now pointed down towards me. I shook my head violently.
“Please, I'll do anything you ask. Just don't kill me, please!”
“Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before! Just close your eyes, it will only hurt for a minute!” The complete lack of empathy in her voice was like a razor blade to the soul, and her knife reflecting the moon's light into my eyes might as well have been the Grim Reaper's scythe. As she jerked it down towards me, I took her advice, throwing my arm up and slamming my eyes shut before looking away like the coward I was. I waited for the cold steel to enter my body. Moments went by, then seconds, and as I opened my eyes again, I could see her smiling, enjoying the torture she was putting me through as she casually looked at her watch.
“Actually… I've got places to be, people to meet, and I really don't want to get my clothes soaked in your blood.” She said casually, pulling back her knife. She stood up, keeping her foot on my chest as she laid out the terms and conditions of my continued existence.
“So, I'll tell you what Roadkill, I'll make you a deal. You're going to hop in the trunk of my car and ruminate on all the mistakes you made leading up to this moment. If you're a good boy, I'll let you out somewhere, and you can walk home! If not, or if I hear even a peep out of you, I'll crush this car with you inside. Deal?” She didn't have to ask me twice. I nodded profusely, and I would have bowed, juggled swords, and kissed her feet if she would have let me. Climbing inside the cramped quarters of the Mustang’s dark cargo compartment, I’ve never been so happy in my life!
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