Up In Smoke [Pogue]
Sept 2, 2014 21:03:58 GMT -5
Post by arx. on Sept 2, 2014 21:03:58 GMT -5
Three Years Ago
There is nothing that this little shit can do to get out of paying me this time. I let him off easy once, leaving him with nothing but a broken nose as warning if he chose to "forget" his money the next time - this time I would make sure he paid. And if he chose not to pay with cash, I would make him pay me with a few of his extremities.
I was busy enough as it was and this low life was nothing more than a waste of my time. Such scum. These people I dealt with were all like that - scum. But I knew exactly how this morphling worked and just exactly how much money it was landing in my pockets. Though I have grown to admire just how loudly these people scream ... Maybe I would make some time to chop off this guy's fingers even if he paid. If only I had more time tonight.
I could always arrest him later, bring him in for questioning, tell him I knew he had been buying drugs from someone. ("Who are you buying the morphling from, Jack?") I smirk at the idea of him squirming in his chair, sweating profusely, claiming I had sold him the drugs and me laughing it off with my fellow Peacekeepers. ("Look at this fool, so high he can't even think straight!") I can hear them laughing along with me as yank out a few of his fingernails, one by one, and shove them into his mouth. What fun. If only it were that simple.
But I was told long ago to leave the clients be as long as they paid up. Despite just how useless these buyers were to the rest of Panem, they were quite valuable not only to me, but to Korse as well. I was instructed to sell this and hunt down the Killjoys - nothing more. So despite me nature, I toss over the specified amount of morphling and let Jack the Buyer (as I like to call him) slip back into the darkness after paying me again only half of what we agreed on. I just call after him - "Beware." And continue on my way, on to the next
His name is Zeph. He was young, younger than me, but still he came from the same exact place I did. Nowhere.
Born in the streets I suspect, perhaps a family that neglected him, but his back-story is really none of my business. As long as he keeps out of this business I am a part of and he keeps paying up like a good little boy, he and I will not have any problems. But as those District 3 legends say about me: cross me once and I will be cutting your tongue out of your mouth personally. I smirk in the dark at the thought.
That's me: The Scarecrow.
I pull a cigar out of my jacket pocket, the lighter out of the other, holding the paper delicately between my lips as I shield the flame from the wind, setting the tip of the cigar aflame, and puffing smoke into the dark night. (And with each puff he kills another child's dreams.) The specially made drugs sit heavy inside my coat as I wait for Zeph to meet me. It is true I am early, but still, I do not like to be kept waiting. He should know that by now.
I've never really liked the kid - something off about him. But again, it is not my job to question the wishes of Korse. I am only to scare those who decide not to abide by Korse's rules. Oddly enough that list has grown rather large ... But do I care? Not in the slightest. I enjoyed the days when someone decided to disobey. I lived for them.
So as Zeph approaches with a friend, I wonder if tonight will be one of those days when I am forced to use my extensive arsenal of torture techniques to fend for myself. As I said by for, I am looking forward to it.
"Hey kid, got the money?" I ask, blowing the smoke into his face with a smile. "And, uh, who might this be?" I say, winking at her and blowing a puff of smoke into her face as well, chuckling.
This night was shaping up to be quite ... fun.
Make a wish when your childhood dies
