FanFic: Rent

[Abaru-FP]

These stories have been bouncing around my mind for a few weeks now. Unfortunately, the last attempt I've made at a fictional story was a totally pathetic ramble when I was 14. I don't expect this to be good, but I want to clear my head so I can get back to working on my drawing. You might notice I borrowed some ideas from other Fanfic authors; perhaps most notably I was inspired by Danger girl’s fic. If you all like where a story is going, I'll add a few chapters and continue it to conclusion. Anyway, heres the first chapter of the first story

*EDIT: I decided to turn this short story into a short fanfic. Maybe once I get over my drawing block I will add a few sketches of the characters.





Rift 01

There was a faint whirring as the cheap stereo system came to life. It greeted no one in particular with a few blinks of 'Good Morning' on its display, while it searched its memory for an appropriate song to gently coax its owner out of bed. Deciding on the same song it did every morning, it prepared to fill the apartment with a soft orchestral melody.

Then, for reasons unknown, it disregarded the decision at the last second and instead let loose with a grating screech of static.

The blast caused the shapeless lump in the nearby bed to jerk in shock. An arm burst from the covers and groped at the floor in search of the remote. Finding it, the hand jammed at buttons until the screech ended. There was a brief silence before the remote crashed loudly somewhere in the kitchen after its flight from the bedroom.

As best he could tell, he had simply popped into existence thirty seconds ago. The fog in his mind was so thick with exhaustion; he couldn't manage any intelligible thought. He let his arm fall off the side of the bed. His hand bounced off a large glass jug, sending it rolling noisily across the room. Slowly, he opened his eyes and recognized it as the remains of an expensive bottle of bourbon. His Who and Where began to float back to him, and his expression hardened into a sour frown. Already knowing the answer, he rolled over to confirm that the female companion he had shared the jug with had already left.

Damn.

He wasn't surprised in the least, she never stayed. But it still vaguely hurt him that she wanted nothing to do with him when she wasnt in...need. He rolled back over and braced himself.

Ok...get up on three.

One...

Two...

All he managed was a pathetic thrash and a loud groan.

As he laid there, his head pounding, and his mood darkening by the second, he forced himself to remember why he was awake at this ungodly hour with this ungodly hangover.

His clients were usually out for some sort of violent revenge. They were often poor, and the victim of some abuse from someone so rich or powerful they were above the law. In this case, the torture of a young girl at the hands of an incredibly wealthy and perverted businessman with an inexplicable disgust for Newman. The adopted father of the newman girl had contacted him through the guild, and begged him to accept the hit. The only reward he could offer was a few hundred and, of course, his gratitude. After he explained the circumstances it took no further convincing.

Apparently people get bored once they reach the top. His hits all had the habit of molesting those below them for fun. His rent this month would be paid with the head of a man who had kidnapped a young girl, taken her to his office, and...

He frowned again

The sick bastard had strapped the girl down, kissed her once, and then cut out the girls tongue. Stealing her ability to speak or ever share a true kiss again. He then stripped her naked and simply kicked her out, forcing her to walk home naked, terrified, and bleeding.

Killing him for free would be reason enough to get out of bed in the morning.

As soon as he stood up a wave of nausea swept over him. He looked out the window, totally embittered, exhausted, and hung over. Seeing no reason not to, and hating his neighbors for their sleep, he took a deep breath before yelling as loudly as possible:

"Fuck!"


<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Abaru-FP on 2006-08-04 07:59 ]</font>

[Skye-Fox713]

that last part made me chuckle

write more

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Skye-Fox713 on 2006-08-04 15:00 ]</font>

[Danger_Girl]

I enjoyed it thus far. Very somber subject matter, but thats why a head is going to have to roll.

[Abaru-FP]

I’ve discovered that it’s very hard to stay focused while writing, and that it exhausts me pretty quickly. So far the characters have no back story and are minimally developed; the reason for this is that I still have no clue where I’m going with the story. I’ll try to flesh them out in the next chapter and get some much needed character interaction going.



Rift 02
In the next apartment, the exclamation caused Sabe to roll over in her sleep.

A hurried breakfast and a fast shower after his outburst, Lenil was sitting at the back of the public shuttle staring blankly at the holographic advertisement floating in front of him. These things were unavoidable, and as much as they irritated him, their presence was the only price he had to pay to use the public shuttle system. This morning, a particularly obnoxious advertisement had chosen him to present its sales pitch to. Much to his discomfort, the saleswoman was tirelessly trying to sell him tampons. Oblivious to her total lack of success, she prattled on in a loud, overexcited voice.

"...our new Flexi-max design is more comfortable than ever!"

He drummed his fingers on the assembler hidden under his sleeve. Everything about birth made him uneasy, and the to-the-point advertisement was starting to make him very uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and tried his best to think about anything else. This was proving difficult, as whenever the ad noticed it had lost his attention it would float a few inches closer to his face and increase its volume. Now very loud and very close, it continued without pause.

"...new material allows for improved absorbency!"

God, this is too much. Lenil poked at the hologram and it dissipated for a few seconds before reforming with a vague but unmistakable diagram floating next to the saleswoman's head. Quickly looking away, his eyes searched the shuttle for something to hold his attention. The shuttle was mostly empty. It was about an hour before the morning rush would begin, which, he thought sourly, meant it was far too early for any normal person to be awake. The handful of other passengers all had advertisements hounding them as well. Some were staring sleepily at them, but most had their eyes closed or their head down. Successfully distracted, he wondered why they were awake at such an ungodly hour. They looked interesting, some where raggedy, others well kempt, all sharing similar signs of exhaustion which meant they had seen most of the hours in the last few days. His imagination began to conjure inane explanations for their early commute as he continued to eye them over. He glanced at the person closest to him, an average looking middle aged man with his arms crossed and his head bowed. Looks like he’s had a long night. Briefly entertaining the idea of asking him where he was going, Lenil reconsidered when the man started snoring. Coming back to reality, he supposed it would have been weird to start up a conversation anyway.
His eyes continued to wander until they met those of a human girl who had been watching his antics with the holo-ad and was giggling at his discomfort. He felt his face light up in embarrassment, and he defeatedly dropped his head into his hands. The girl burst out laughing. At least I’m entertaining he thought sarcastically.

"Now approaching Dobel Gardens Gated Community, please stay seated until the doors have opened and the shuttle has come to a complete stop."

Lenil's mind snapped to attention. He had planned to patch the last gap in his plan during the shuttle ride, but as always, he had ended up distracted and had squandered his last opportunity to prepare.

Images flashed before his closed eyes as he frantically tried to focus his hung over mind and slap together some sort of plan in the seconds before the shuttle landed. He saw the drawing the newman girl had made of her attacker, the photograph that matched it, and the information card which included the man’s name and the address of his manor.

Hugh Marshal, 1057 Dobel Gardens Gated Community. He worked at a corporation who’s specifics were irrelevant, and had to be at work to fill his supervisor position at 7:00am.

Lenil knew that every day Hugh left his house at around 6:30am, and walked for an estimated two minutes down his private drive. That would be his window.

It was disturbingly easy to get away with murder in these times, especially if the man was of low importance but high wealth, such as Mr. Marshal. Anyone who knew him would be too busy scavenging what he left behind to look too far into the Whos and Whys of his death. Since his hits were commonly the wealthy and unlovable, he could often count on this to cover his tracks. The police always investigated, but with no one pushing them it was usually a half hearted effort. Pioneer II was becoming overcrowded and increasingly restless, they simply lacked the resources and manpower to devote any time to a case in which no one cared.

During his first month as a hunter, Lenil quickly discovered that to cleanly walk away from a murder you only needed to be certain that you left no obvious evidence, and that no one witnessed the murder. On a ship over-packed with people, this was the most complicated part. But as with most problems, this could be remedied with a little forethought and planning. People usually fall into a routine that they follow from day to day, discovering moments in this routine in which they would be alone and accessible was as simple as doing a little research and reading between the lines. If he knew Hughes lived alone in a manor with a private drive, and was picked up at 6:30, he could assume he would be alone and unprotected by a security system on his walk down to the company shuttle.

Information was the key to a successful hit, and the only thing that worried him was the lack of certain bits he hadn't been able to collect. The community advertised a "safe, private atmosphere" with a guarded front gate. He couldn't investigate the details of the front gate or inquire where Hugh's manor was in relation to it without raising suspicion; and he couldn't case out the place beforehand without the risk of being seen and remembered. All he had to do was manage to get passed the gate and navigate the sprawling neighborhood fast enough to make it to Hugh’s drive on time. But unknowns bothered him, they often caused complications. All he could do to fill the gaps in his plan was stay on his toes once he was on sight.

The shuttle began to slow and descend to the platform, providing Lenil with overhead view of the community and the main gate, which he scanned quickly. The gate was comprised of a tiny hut, which he guessed a security guard was stationed at, and an old fashioned black fence that probably retracted to let people through. Luckily, it seemed to be mostly for show, and the walls that stretched to either side would be easily scaleable. Looking passed the gate, Lenil let out a soft groan. The neighborhood beyond the gate was far larger and more cluttered than he had hoped it would be. The road that led from the main gate snaked elaborately through the neighborhood, and the expensive looking houses were sealed off from one another with tall hedges. The more vast manors were at the back of the community, and some even boasted a private lawn which was an extravagant rarity on the crowded ship. Lenil tried to commit as much of it to memory as he could, and made a mental note that he would probably find 1057 somewhere towards the end of the road. The hedges would prevent him from cutting between the houses as he had planned. This meant that he would have to walk down the street in plain view and rely on the getup he had thrown together in a scramble that morning. He sighed inwardly, this was a bad omen. It was the time of day for people to be leaving their homes and heading for work. If he encountered anyone, they might find it odd that he appeared to be heading home. Lenil quickly dismissed this when he felt his confidence fading. He reassured himself that he was dressed appropriately to blend in and avoid any unnecessary attention. He was wearing a cheap but fashionable white collared shirt, a tie, and black slacks. He had tried to dress like the countless middle-class businessmen who lived in Dobel Gardens. Despite this his confidence began to fade again; his age might stick out as unusual. He was a young looking 18 year old, and although not unheard of, it was uncommon for someone to establish themselves in the business world at such an age. Shaking his head to clear it, he forced that unavoidable fact out of his mind as well. The situation wasn’t perfect, but it was remarkable what you could get away with if you just acted naturally. As always, his confidence would find itself when he needed it. He counted on it, and prided himself on it. Confidence was one of the two weapons he wielded best.

The shuttle slowed to a stop, and the advertisements vanished. Sighing in relief, he stood and walked toward the door. While he waited for the doors to open, he looked at the reflection of the girl who had laughed at him in the glass window. Now that her entertainment was leaving she was staring at the handful of people waiting outside of the shuttle with a bored expression. She's kind of cute he mused. The doors opened, and he stepped out and began purposefully walking down the sidewalk following the wall.

He’s kind of cute she thought, watching him walk away. After the people waiting outside had filed in, she left her seat.

He had been walking for about a minute when he heard the shuttle zoom away. He continued walking until he felt he was far enough away from the gate and the guard hut. Stealing a quick glance around him to make sure he was alone, he ran at the wall and scrambled over it.

He found himself in a narrow space between a house and the wall. On either side of him he could see hedge just passed the corner. Guessing the direction of the road, he slowly squeezed his way to the right.

Several minutes later he emerged onto the road, totally disoriented and in bad spirits. He wasn’t sure he had managed to avoid being seen while he circled the house trying to find the gap in the hedges, and he was running out of time. Dobel Gardens appeared deserted, the windows were dark, and the street was totally empty, and though he knew he shouldn’t do anything out of character incase someone was looking, he gave the elusive archway the finger. Satisfied, he looked around to get his bearings. The house encircled with hedges that he had just managed to escape had a 232 clearly printed on the door. He walked up the road a little and peered through the break in the hedge-fence, he was glad to see the next house was numbered 235. He began his long walk up the winding street at a brisk pace.

As the morning slowly came in, one or two people drifted out of their houses and passed him on the street. Somewhere in the 700s a dog had barked at him, startling him and causing a great deal of noise. Other than that, the trip had been totally uneventful. He passed 1057 without stopping, and quickly took in all he could with a quick glace. The place was enclosed with hedges as all the houses were. The manor was safely nestled in the back, with a sizeable lawn out front. The drive that Hugh would be descending in a few minutes arched around a gentle hill in the middle of the yard and was only partially visible from sidewalk. He even had a tree. Lenil was very impressed.

He continued walking, listening intently for any noises. He rounded the corner, and proceeded up the street, until he estimated that he was close to the tree. Hearing nothing, and feeling no eyes on him, he looked around quickly to confirm that he was totally alone. He dove through the hedges. His estimation was slightly off, and he sprinted for the cover of the drooping tree branches. The tree was close enough to the pathway to be a perfect hiding spot. Squeezing his body against the trunk, he sat and waited. His heart began to pound.

After several minutes, he heard the door give a soft “whoosh” as it opened. There was a shuffle, a click, and a beep as Mr. Marshal stepped out and the door closed, arming the security system. Lenil closed his eyes and listened intently for the footsteps. He couldn’t hear anything at first, and then the footsteps became audible, and slowly grew louder as Hugh neared tree. Lenil became aware of how loud his breathing was. If he was noticed before the moment was right, everything would go to hell. Hugh would run, yell, and manage to cause enough noise before he was silenced to prevent Lenil from escaping the gated community.

The footsteps reached their crescendo, and began to grow softer. Lenil stole a glance around the tree trunk. Mr. Marshal was a few yards away, walking down the path away from the tree. Lenil quietly crept out and matched his footfall, it was over. Hughes was so absorbed in his thoughts, he was totally oblivious to Lenil catching up to him. When they were just a few feat apart, Lenil spoke up.

“Excuse me, Mr. Marshal?”

Hugh wheeled around to meet the barrel of handgun pressed to his lips. There was a millisecond of confusion in his eyes before Lenil pulled the trigger. The photon bullet vaporized his lips, shattered his teeth, and shredded his tongue before lodging itself halfway through his spinal column just below the brain. He fell backwards as a blast of fleshy goo spewed from the gaping hole that used to be his mouth. He thrashed on the ground, gurgling in agony and grabbing at his face.

Lenil stuck his tounge out at him.
“I can’t imagine what you’re complaining about; I didn’t even kiss you first.”

The photon residue was slowly burning its way through the spinal column, and Mr. Marshals thrashing was quickly becoming less violent. Lenil’s handgun vanished, and he put his hands in his pockets and watched for a moment.

“Do you know why you are dieing?”
Hugh spewed up more blood.
"No, you are dieing because three weeks ago, you decided to cut out a girls tongue. In about a minute, you will die, and things will almost be even." He turned to leave. Then, thinking better of it, he turned back to Mr. Marshal and delivered powerful kick to his groin. Mr. Marshal let out an exceptionally agonized gurgle, and Lenil began to walk back to the spot in the hedge where he had entered.

Then he heard the whoosh of a photon saber activating. His handgun materialized in his hand, and he rounded on the spot where the noise had come from.

The girl from the shuttle waved her hand. “Smile!” she said, pointing to the recording device pinned to her shirt.

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Abaru-FP on 2006-08-11 09:38 ]</font>

[Foxix]

I am really enjoying it so far, suspenseful and funny. Good job!

[Abaru-FP]

Whew, ok. About a month ago I moved away from home. I'm now living in an apartment with three friends, and as you can imagine, my lifestyle has changed quite a bit. As much as I love writing, I don't have the time or privacy for it much anymore, and because my skills are lacking, writing is exhausting and slow. I'll still update, but its low priority as of now. Chapter 4 is partly done already.

Rift 03

Several weeks earlier, while drunkenly relating his life story to a friend, Lenil came to realize that his life was a bit of an oddity.
Convoluted circumstances had left him estranged from his family at the age of 16, and he was forced into independence penniless and on a light breakfast. After he had fruitlessly searched for work for several days, his desperation overwhelmed his dignity and he began wandering from store to store begging for handouts. Having little luck, he had finally collapsed onto a park bench completely famished and exhausted. He had just managed to drift off to sleep when he was awoken by a police officer who was gently shaking his shoulder and saying “I’m sorry bud, but you can’t stay here. You’ve gotta go.” Exhausted and hungry, his temper had snapped, and a several loud curses and a brief struggle later he found his face pressed to the concrete and the police officer placing handcuffs on him. Completely spent and feeling utterly hopeless, he spontaneously began quietly sobbing in total defeat. The police officer watched him for a few seconds, and began to take pity on his pathetic state. After considering that Lenil was generally harmless, he decided to let him off the hook. Lenil felt the policeman loosen his grip on his pinned wrists, and after a few seconds, the handcuffs vanished and the police officer stood up, freeing him. “Look, I can see times are tough for you, but damn, you can’t go around punching police officers.” All Lenil could do was turn his head to look up at him. “If there’s nowhere else for you to go, try the Guild.” He rubbed his swelling cheek. “I get the feeling you’re the type. Now please, leave the park.” The officer then turned and left, leaving Lenil confused and slightly battered.

At this point in his narration Sabe had interjected. “So, you just ran off and joined the Guild? Do you ever actually, you know, think things through?” She had stared at him and shook her head. “You can be such a dumb ass,” she added.

After thinking on it, he supposed she was right; his disposition was in no way cut out for the turbulent life of a hunter. Though he had no aversions to violence, one of the philosophies he held most dearly was the total dislike of any form of conflict. He felt that if a conflict could not be resolved in less than five seconds, it was always best to avoid it altogether. He reasoned that professionally, long conflicts led to struggles, and struggles led to mess. Socially, the longer an argument went on, the higher the chance of damaging a friendship. Sabe had quickly noticed this quirk, and she saw the value in his reasoning. But she secretly believed it was all just an excuse for being lazy.

Regardless, this was why, as Lenil stared at the recording device which held proof that he murdered Hugh Marshal, he got the feeling someone had just pissed in his cheerios.

The girl began. “Yes, it got the whole thing. I’ll be going home soon to edit it and make it presentable, maybe add some music.” She hardly seemed bothered by the handgun pointed at her head. Lenil guessed she had done this before. After a few seconds of silence, Lenin spoke up.
“Are you a hunter?” He asked, not sure what to say to that.
“No, well, yes. Sort of I guess. I don’t actually take jobs from the guild. I find people like you and extort them using my little camcorder.” She tapped it for emphasis. “Right now its probably dawning on you what I’m getting at. I want the pay from this hit, and maybe a bit more if I get in the mood to treat myself to something nice.”
At a total loss of what to do, Lenil stared.
“If you’re thinking of trying to kill me, don’t bother. I’m a freaking surgeon with this saber, and even if you got lucky the video has already been wired to a friend of mine who knows exactly where to send it if I don’t show up.”
Lenil actually hadn’t considered killing her, but now that she mentioned it, he supposed it was the most sensible thing to do. But even if she was bluffing, shooting a cute girl in the head wasn’t really his thing; and he kind of admired her business ethic. She made a living without ever having to get her hands dirty, and he had to admit, he was totally helpless. They stood there for several silent moments, the girl meeting Lenil’s stunned stare with a confident grin. The silence was broken by a whoosh on the other side of the hedges as the company shuttle landed. Deciding it was time to move things along; the girl took a step toward Lenil and spoke up.
“Well?” she asked.
“Well what?”
“Don’t stall; I give it no more than five minutes before the shuttle driver comes up here looking for that guy. I know you don’t want to be around for that, and I’d rather not either, so give me your information so we can get out of here.” She threw a glance in the direction of the shuttle and moved her hand to her hip. Something had suddenly dawned on him; she didn’t know the name of the man he had just killed. Perhaps it wasn’t a setup. His curiosity subdued his surprise. “How did you find out about this?” he asked. Her smile flickered. “Does it matter?”
Deciding things could no longer turn violent; he lowered his gun and took a step back. “Just answer and I’ll give you my information.”
The girl tossed her shoulder length blue hair. She obviously didn’t like Lenil holding any cards, but she played along.
“Fine, it was your assembler. You were drumming your fingers on it in the shuttle. I heard the little thumping noise and figured you were hiding something under your sleeve, so I followed you.” Lenil was very impressed; he hadn’t even considered that something on that level of detail could give him away. “None of this was set up?” he asked. She shook her head. “Information please.”

Lenil pulled up his sleeve to reveal his assembler. He tapped the screen several times, and the assembler on the girls arm let out a beep. She looked at it and grinned. “Thanks babe. I’ll call you sometime.” Lenil shot a sarcastic smile at her. “I’ll give you two days to collect the money and deposit it in your account.” She winked, whirled around, and began sauntering slowly toward the back of the house. He watched her walk away for a moment before one last question popped out of his mouth. “Where were you going?” he blurted. She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, not understanding. “On the shuttle earlier.” He clarified. She turned around and gave him an exasperated look. “Home. I was going home to sleep off my hangover. If you don’t mind, I’m done answering questions.” She turned again and purposefully walked for a few moments before disappearing behind the house. Lenil couldn’t help but smile. If they had met under different circumstances, he thought they would have gotten along really well. He turned toward the place in the hedge where he had entered and began to quietly make his way home.

A few minutes later, the shuttle driver was bent double, vomiting in the street and trying to subdue the sickening panic that had overtaken him when he discovered Mr. Marshal.

Lenil stumbled through his doorway and immediately slumped into a heap on the floor. The reality of the incredible weight now held over his head had crept over him as his adrenaline had faded. The girl could not only claim the money from the hit, but everything else he owned was only protected by her ability to control her greed. He rolled onto his back and let his bitterness overwhelm him. Assuming that she was satisfied with the money from Mr. Marshal, he still would be facing eviction if he couldn’t pull off another job in the next two weeks. He scooted across the floor and climbed onto his sofa. After a few minutes of loud sighs and feeling sorry for himself, he sat up and blearily looked around his apartment. Despite his frequent bad luck, he was relatively well off financially. The mental fortitude necessary to take another life was a valuable commodity these days. His apartment was fairly spacious and comfortably furnished, and he loved every inch of it. There were several shelves full of whirring curios and miscellaneous flashing doodads that had caught his eye at some point in time and found their way into his home. He surrounded himself with things he enjoyed, from his squishy furniture, to his fridge stuffed with alcohol and junk food. He kept the place spotless, and felt a sense of pride every time he walked through the door. This was his sanctuary, it was what he had to show for his efforts, and he furnished it and kept it up completely by himself. But it was also all he really had. Aside from rent money, he usually only earned enough to feed himself and pay utilities. If the girl was not satisfied with the measly payment from the hit, his belongings would be all he had left to give.
With this thought he rolled off the couch and slowly walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Staring at his selection, he eventually decided on a particularly potent whisky. Taking the bottle to the second living room, he walked up to the far wall and raised his fist to knock on it.

After the strange circumstances that led to their friendship, Lenil frequently invited his neighbor, Sabe, over to his apartment anytime he was in the mood for company. Eventually, he simply began knocking on the wall that the two apartments shared, as a sign that she was welcome to come over if she wanted. Sabe had picked it up and often invited Lenil over in the same manner.

Today, he hesitated. His fist hovered in the air a few seconds before he lowered it. This was his problem, and he would at least try to think it over himself before he relied on Sabe’s advice. He turned and eyed his favorite couch longingly. It would be best to think it over later.

[HUnewearl_Meira]

Stickied.