Promo: the return, the rebirth and the revenge

[Guest Insanityman]

Promo: The Re-Birth… the Return… the Revenge.

 

OoC: I tried to make it all with normal spacing, but I had trouble myself getting everything right due to reading wrong lines… meh, so I did an indent and a space. Enjoy.

 

Ever since I ever stepped foot into the ML, trying to replace the pitiful friend of mine, Midget; I thought I’d be a force to be reckoned with. Apparently, I was wrong. Here I was, night after night busting my ass… and losing. Then some winning, before I knew it I had Thoth BRILLANTLY defeat me. I knew that the Clan and their sort would be the sole survivors. However, I tried to push that to back in my mind, until the insanity struck a long time later. I heard that nagging voice keep informing me that being good would only hold me back… it would destroy the TRUE power I possess! My feeble heel turns nothing but words… before I abruptly left to seek revenge. This is why I’m here today, to avenge my parents… my regained sanity, but most of all for me.  I sought refuge from my gang connections by using the constant traveling to keep away. After I had left an ex-gang in Easton I sold them out for money. Gangs wanted after me, but one man. He said if I paid him twice in a year no matter what I’d get protection.

 

Then I didn’t buy the bastard once… ONCE and one of his guys jumped me. God, ever since then I couldn’t break the deal, he’d kill me next time. In other words, not living, not existent anymore. That’s why I strike tonight; I swear I’ll kill him for me, for my future. But after that, the JL will never be the same again, I promise.

 

Andrew Rickmen, the former Insane Luchador got so last into his own thoughts he nearly forgot what the hell he was doing. He was in the dark of the night in Easton, the warm winds of a spring night whip against his face, soothing him almost. His usual attire however he had made sure his plan would work. Andrew seemed to stare at nothing, he stood alone in a parking lot and stolen beat up Lexus (which he did himself) was besides him. He sighed, as he leaned against it, taking in the whole scene. The trees gently swaying, the stars… damn the stars, and space so confusing. IL thinks briefly. Also, more importantly beyond those pine trees is an “emptied” factory, that’s where he needed to go. With wooden in windows (letting little light through) and a garage full of his followers, guns, stolen cars, etc. Andrew Rickmen takes a quick glance at the opened trunk, a black bag in there. Rickmen takes a heavy in-ward sigh and approaches the trunk. He unzips the bag carefully revealing one Berretta handgun. In case of an emergency, a silenced AK-47, and a cell phone. Andrew then reaches into the cargoes pocket and pulls out two black gloves, as he fastens them on snug. “Let’s roll,” he says trying to reassure him as fear surged through him. He grabbed the Berretta and pulls back the slider, placing it in his pocket, tucked away by his baggy hooded sweatshirt. He then slammed the trunk shut, and opened the front door veering up the car’s engine and moving out.

---

“What the hell do you mean you didn’t get him? He was mother fucking vital to this operation!” A tall man, with a sinister face, a scar running from his left eye to nearly the curve of his nose, screamed. A whimpering Asian man stood in fear, the taller man sniffed in and hissed. “Do I smell fear?” The Asian man face twisted into confusion almost, as the tall man who was wearing a tan trench coat reached into his the jacket pocket, and pulled out a Walther PPK, he then with split-second precision shot into the Asian’s kneecap. He crumbled under pain and the knee obviously giving out, blood began to stream out. The tall man was in his office, barely lighten up, and a file cabinet and a rotting desk with a swivel chair was all. Crying for forgiveness, the Asian grabbed his knee, watching the blood engulf his head. Another shot cracked, and the man was silenced forever.

---

Rickmen had just driven past a forest trail; obviously a Lexus was not a smart choice for the path. He heard the shots from the distance, and the building got larger right before his eyes. “Shit.” He said, as he turned the key off, and got out carefully, he saw his entrance… a back door. He fondled the handgun, as he carefully lurked in the shadows. He approached the door, whipping out the gun. He kicked it open, both hands on the gun, as the first guy a Latino with shorts and a tank top stood shocked. IL pulled the trigger twice, as the gun recoiled more than he had hoped, and the silent bullets only made a low cough as the man got the bullets to the stomach. He started to wept, and coughed up blood, while he held the wound. Andrew quickly looked around, seeing an aging fleet of wooden stairs, which led to the door. The darkness of the whole entire base gave him the advantage, the door suddenly flung open as Rickmen was at the bottom of the fleet. A man had his back turned to IL, as blood and a twisted up body was being pulled. Andrew carefully aimed, and shot a perfect shot (as if it was all a movie) which sent the unfortunate bugger down the stairs, the other body laying still. A familiar voice swore, as Andrew charged up the stairs stupidly enough, and then he heard a bullet whiz past his head, taking chunks out of the metal wall. Another shot barely missed, and Andrew leapt to the top of the stairs, rolling into the room. Where the tall man, Rex Matthews was desperately trying to re-load. “Ah… the insane Andrew Rickmen.” He said icily, as Andrew was on his knee aiming. Rex made a sudden move, and a flash of metal was pulled from his trench coat. Rickmen fired three shots, all three hitting his heart. With a content grin, as Rex coughed up blood, having a muscle spasm. With that, Rex’s eyes still icy stared into Rickmen. He remained there motionless, gun dropped, and a short throwing knife still clutched.

---

Easton Police Department

 

An aging man gingerly rubbed his forehead at the busy office. He stared down at the note he received, as attractive blonde hair women approached him. “Hear what happened?” The man nodded slowly shocked. “The Pittsburgh Blood hawks took credit for it…” She mentioned, which the man already knew from the memo. “Yes, but what baffles me is the Latino man said his guy was white… they don’t let them in it’s only for Asians.”

She nodded slowly, thinking. “Well Rex is finally dead either way. He was a legend…”

---

About eight miles at the crack of dawn, Insane Luchador stood proudly at the top of a summit, which had a river around it. He watched the Lexus and all evidence hit the barrier, and spills into the river, slowly sinking. With an evil smirk Insane Luchador laughed, the perfect crime. He faked the call, let the Blood hawks get the fame… they deserve it. Andrew thought slowly, as the bumper was the only thing left, which slowly sank also.

 

OoC: Damn nice to be back.

[Guest Shawn]

IL is back!!

 

Wait a second... damn. Now I'll never get to the top. Too many damn returnees. Oh and nice promo.

 

Welcome back, IL.

[Guest Thoth]

Welcome back, IL.  Get to the WF so you can avenge your Retribution loss!

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

...IL = SCARY!

 

And back.

 

When you said you'd been working on polishing up your writing style, you meant it...I'm impressed, and eager to see what you can do.  Bravo, and welcome back to one of the fed's icons!

[Guest Suicide King]

I take credit for everything IL has improved in.

 

Of course, I take credit for lots of things.

 

[Guest midnight_burn]

Jolly good promo there, good to have ya back IL.

[Guest Insanityman]

Heh, good to see King's taken credit... anyways, thanks for the comments. That was enjoyable enough to write, and for those who didn't understand why I killed Rex, he was the man giving me the protection. But not without the hefty sums, so Andrew for his own good took care of him.