Chapter 1: The Chip
The crisp night air blew in through
the window as he typed. He shivered and got up to close it. Once,
twice, three times he tried to close it, but it was wedged shut. On the
fourth try he got it down, and he pulled the curtains over it, casting
the room into darkness. It was lit only by the glow of the computer
that he could find his way back. He sat down in the chair, the joints
in his young bones creaking like an old man's. He was rather handsom,
with his wirey brown hair, clear gray eyes, and pale skin. He was,
however, deemed a "Computer Nerd" by most. His pale skin came from
hours spent indoors, staring into his computer screen.
His
name was Pyralis Martin, a computer programer. His eyes had grown dull
from his job, and now he needed a pair of giant, square-rimmed glasses.
Although he made good money from that same job, most was spent for
upgrades, downloads, and new equipment. Consequently, he was now broke,
which was why he now had taken on a new client, one paying $20 million
euros. It was a dangerous job, one requiring endless hours of coding,
secrecy, and thousands of dollars in paraphernalia. With only a few
more code to write, Pyralis was almost done. He sighed, stretched, and
cracked his knuckles, getting ready to finish the programing.
Knock Knock Knock
Pyralis minimized the program on his desktop and opened the door.
"Ye-"
He was silenced by a S&W 1911 38SUPR 5"BBL ADJ SGTS. pointed
straight at the middle of his forehhead. The person holding it was
dressed all in black.
The gun was a Smith & Wesson model
1911 full size 38 super Semi-Automatic pistol with a two-tone finish
and adjustable sights. It was a beautiful gun, with a name carved into
the side in beautiful caligraphy, detailed with intricate lines
swirling into each other.
"Finish it." He said, gesturing with
his well-tooled gun at the computer. Pyralis opened it back up, sat
down, an pushed his glasses back up his nose, gulping. "Hurry." The man
said, pulling the hammer back. Pyralis typed quickly, adding some extra
typing in with the rest, hoping the perpatrator wouldn't notice. After
writing the final code, he turned to the man and gulped.
"D-done." He pushed his glasses up his nose again.
"Good." He
tightened his finger on the triger, and Pyralis fell back on the
ground, dead to all but God. The person calmly stepped over the
crummpled heap that once was Pyralis Martin and ejected the disc from
Pyralis's computer. Pulling off his hood, Siyamak Jahangir examined the
disk for a few minutes, then popped it into a case, and slipped it in
his pocket. Smiling his odd smile, he bent down to the corpse at his
feet and pulled out a knife. It was his favorite knife, long,
serrated, and black He then picked up what had been Pyralis's hand, and
in a few smooth, quick strokes, he slit the hand with intricate lines,
just as was on his gun and knife. Laying the hand back down, he got up,
ran to the window, and jumped over the mantle into the midnight sky.
This is an unfinished story. It is also a work of Fiction. Names, characters, incedents, and buisnesses are either a product of my imagination or used fictuously. Any resemblence to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This is merely the prelude to the story. As it is so far unedited, some changes and revisions will be made. If you have any suggestions on what I should change, please e-mail me at ajoyfield@yahoo.com. Any and all ideas will be looked over. If you have recomendations for a title, i could realy use it. If you are knowlegeable about handguns or knifes and wish to correct me, please say the mistake, and then how i should correct it. If you think a different weapon would be more suitable, please repeat the weapon name that i use, and then your suggestion as i should write it in the story. Do not feel slighted if i dont use your suggestion, for it merely means another's looked cooler. :) oh and i promise that this huge long paragraph will only happen this one time
