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Cassandra's Stories!! |  |
 Cassandra's Corner |
Poetry Corner |
Poetry Corner II |
Poetry Corner III |
Cassandra's Stories |
Dedication To Friends |
Internet Stalker 101 |
Contact Me Here |
Links To The Future |
| A STORY OF OPERATION MIND CRIME By Cassandra In the dark streets of a city, There he sat under the light of a lone street lamp. His clothes torn and wet from the rains that had been falling all evening long. His long plumes of breath could be seen on the fridgid air, Rising up above the city and disapearing into the night's sky. His eyes sunkin and dark almost a unpenitrable black looked at the world through hate, greed, and addiction. His features sharp and thin from many nights out here. Without a home, without money, He was nothing more than a waste product. Where to go from here. Where to being and transform if there was such a thing. From the distance there came the sounds of a purrring car, Moving up this lonely side street, something uncomon. He lifted his eyes from the hood of his jacket and watched the shifting shadows collecting into a mass of a limo, The bright lights shimering into his eyes which he sheilds with the back of a gloved hand. The car moves slightly in front of him before he hears the sound of the power window come down. That noise alone shattering the bleeding silence around him. Looking around he hears his name called, "Nicki, Come" He is unsure what is going on how this person knows his name but his stomache turns from the lack of drugs in his system and he has nothing left to loose. Pushing himself up from the pole he walks with less than confidant strides, Scraping feet against the wet pavement and he looks inside. What he see's is nothing out of a movie. A tall gentleman, Silver hair seems to be in his 60's at least. His face perhaps once handsom, now showed the fine lines of aging with wrinkles around his mouth and eyes that moved when he spoke, His eyes dead, that was his first thought that he did not have a soul inside of him. A dead and evil blue that could not really be considered a colour. The man held out a small bag to him that held inside a small white rock and then before Nicki could reach for it with driping, cold shaking hands he snatches it away and his voice in that same metodical and hypnotic tone comes caressing out "You and I have some talking to do Nicki, Get in the car and we can act like gentlemen about this" His eyes harder as Nicki moves around to the other side of the car. The tall driver having steped out to open the door for him. He'd never had someone treat him as anything more than the street scum that he was and so this made him for a small fragment of time feel special. He sliped into the leather seat with a squeek as his own wet leather jacket glided across the serface. The car moved forward and the man was moving his hands down out of site and before long he procured a needle with a amber liquid inside that he immediatly recognized. Without thought he leaned forward and took out one arm from the wet jacket. Moving the sleve of his long shirt up showing the track marks of a life so short yet so long. In a few moments he is laying back against the back of the seat his eyes half closed and the car slowing to a stop. "Come Nicki, you are coming inside, to get warm and eat something, Then we are going to talk about what I want in return for my kindness" The mans voice to him seems like a distant memory of something he knew long ago. What seemed to be hours passed before he found himself in a small stark white room on a long white bed. His clothes had been removed now he wore draw string white pants of cotton that felt good against his sore flesh. His eyes still hurt especially from the bright unatural light that glistened down from above so harshly. He sat up in the bed and felt his stomache being to heave and before long he was on his hands and knees on the floor, Wretching for the life of himself, Giving into the feelings of sickness, Everything he'd ever felt being purged into a pile of yellow bile on the floor. The next few weeks seemed to be a dream of heroin and dreams, Nightmares, sweat and an ache that threatened to kill him every time his eyes were open. When it all seemed hopeless and endless there was a glimer of hope, Everyday it seemed a lady, in black and white would come to clean the floor, To change the sheets and to bring him small bits of food. He can remember her soft hands upon his flesh, wiping up the sweat and stinking that seemed now to cling to every inch of his body. Finnaly they brought him a pair of leather pants and a black long sleved shirt to put on. He did not know what was going on but he knew that he'd been feeling better, Hours did not seem so meaningless, Time did not stand still when he was not feeling well. He moved to the door and they came for him two men who were a good foot taller than his 5'10 stance. They walked him down a long hallway and before a pair of great oak doors they left him to himself, Lifting up a hand the knock seemed to vibrate through his very soul and then a "Come In Nicki" was heard from the other side. He opened the large knob and then walked inside. His feet were bare but it felt good against the thick carpets that were inside this much darker room. Around the dark wooden walls they were lined with mirror after mirror of all shapes and sizes. He looked around slowly, taking note of how much diffrent he looked by this point. His hair was middle back and had been brushed out by that magickal woman, the nun and it actually had a shine to it. His eyes still that deep and penitrating black not so red nor sunkin' in. "Come nicki sit down" The voice rattles him out of his thoughts and he moves to a rather large leather wing chair. Looking across a great marble desk at the man that had given him his last fix, That had given him this new life whatever that means. "Nicki, I am known as Doctor X, I had been watching you for such a long time, Wating for the right time to employ you, And when I did find you I knew that my waiting had paid off." His hands come up to the top of the desk and he leans forward looking into his eyes. "Nicki, I wish to hire you for a new project that I have developed, It is something that will change history, It is something that will make us infamous, notorious, and forever in the minds of the future" His mouth seemed to turn up into a sneer with the last words. Nicki's voice was deeper than the doctors and with a slight street type accent "What does all of this have ta' do with me?" The doctor leaning back with a great laugh runs a hand over a small box then flips the lid open. Inside from the slight glimer of the setting sun behind the doctors back he sees that familer craving. That long cilinder of amber fire that he'd for so long been a slave to and the doctor looks up from it to him and wispers. "It has everything to do with you, Now you will be given a trial mission to test your loyalties and if you pass then you can move into the next phase of production" His eyes stayed on the shot in the silver box. "You'll never get away" Is the words that the doctor left him with. He was led down to another part of this "House" and given a few items, A pair of black leather boots with a small siver insignia with the letter X imprinted on it, A pair of headphones and a cd player, A black lock box and a silver key on a silver chain that was to be put around his neck, and a large envelope. He took all of these things and then when a rather small man came into the room he was told how to use all of it. "Inside the box is a gun, Its been specialy designed to fit your hand and your hand alone, Within the envelope there are 4 pictures and thoes are of your target, With the location and the dates and times for you to pick when you will do your job." He did not quite understand all of this but when he drew on the leather trench coat and tucked his hair under its warmth he knew that he had to do something with his life and this was the best thing that had ever come along for him. He put the cd player into the inside pocket of his jacket and switched it on putting the headphones in his ears and began to walk to the car that was pulled up for him. Sitting down in the back seat he begins to listen to what seems like white noise, The background to many a nights in a dark and dank room, That tv without channel on. But before long he begins to hear the words, "Kill, Kill Him for me, Your a new world order, Kill, Kill him for me, Your a new world order" Over and over it rocks inside his ears, Climbing inside and penitrating all the dark corners that he had inside of him. His long thin fingers unlocking the envlopes seal and pulling out what looks like pictures of a priest, He was a larger man with white hair, His eyes that same dead blue he had seen on the doctor and he looked them over carefully. Pulling out the adress of a "St.Theresa Catholic Church" and a list of dates and times where he would be visable for someone to do something awful to him. He did not want to think and put away the envelope into his other pocket, Still listening to the cd that had been driving him forward since he put it on. The car coming to a stop in front of a rather large gothic building and he was given a set of keys and told to go to apartment 11. He did so directly to find a note from the doctor saying this was his home and to take care of the job as soon as possible then to return. He locked the door behind him and walked into the small apartment, a lone chair sitting by the window and a small table in front of it. In front of that a television and radio and behind him a large bed with coverings of black. Behind that a large bathroom and everything had a clinical and dry feeling to it. He sat down in the chair for a long time without moving, Without thinking before he heard a knock at the door. Standing his heart thudding inside his chest he looks out the small hole in the door and there she stands, the nun from the doctors home. Her hands holding a large platter and she looks uncomfortable in the hallway, as if some one was watching her. He slowly unlocked the door and allowed her entrance into the small apartment. Turning as she set the food down on the table, her eyes were the colour of green feilds, Sunrise through them, He felt hope when he looked on her angelic face and her voice was like that of a million angels singing all at once...."Nicki, I am Sister Mary, I will help you in any way that I can" Her voice becoming hushed at the end and she looks around the room as if there was something here she did not like, Her deep eyes moving from one space to another. but when she did look up at him again her features were softer and without so much worry that seemed to eternially plauge her. "Please sit Mary, Im sorry I have no manners really about all of this" His voice a bit shaky and he then realized that he had not even taken off the headphones or the jacket. Doing so promptly he moves to the table and lifts the lid to the platter reavealing a plate of roast beef and potatoes with silver everywhere, And he felt as if he was some kind of royal. glancing up at her he offered a small cock eyed smile sitting down on the floor and taking his plate and cup with him eating with the appitite he'd thought never to come back to him. She watched for the most part in silence and glancing out the window every now and again. Untill the dim darkness took over the room and she stood switching on a light neer the bed and turning it down for him, Collecting the dishes up and then noding to him. "I mean it Nicki, Anything that I can help you with, you just tell me and I shall do my best" Her words so sincere he'd never been talked to that way and did not know how to respond to her at first. His hands tucking long strands of hair behind his small ears and he as well nods back to her "I will Mary, thank you" She moves to the door and he watches her, Every movement caught in some kind of time warp. Slowed down and transformed inside his mind, He was shaken out of the daydream as the door's lock turned. He stood up and disrobed and climbed into the bed, Having been so long since he'd done anything like that. Dreams, tormented him, Hearing only the words "Kill, Kill for me, Your a new world order" VIsions of blood and more hate than he'd ever known. Untill the wee hours of the morning did they finnaly stop and he could find peace in sleeping. The next day, he spent most of it watching the cnn on all of the crimes that seemed to plauge this area of the united states. Mostly it was a blur of things untill the ring of the phone. When he picked it up one word, then the entire world went black, "MindCrime" With that it seems a blank, The next thing he remembers he is sitting in the back of the rented car and his hand holds a black cell phone. A trembling and his heart races as if he'd been running. Sweat stuck strands of his long thick hair to his cheeks. Looking out the windows as the large looming church drifts out of site and he hears his name over and over again in a low and hypnotic tone again. Looking down it comes from the reciever of the phone and he once again lifts it to his ear and wispers "Hello" the sound of the other end stark and then running into the doctors voice again "Good job Nicki, You've pleased us greatly, You reward waits for you at home" And then nothing more but the sound of the click and dial tone. Before long he was walking up the flights of steps to his room again. Taking out the key from his pocket he unlocks the door now more confused than when this all began. How could this be happening to him. What was happening for that matter. His mind realed and he leaned up against the door as it clicked shut behind him. Inside the room was Mary. Her eyes were closed but she sat upright in the wing chair in front of the tv. Still wearing the same nun habit she always wore. He lifted his hands and pushes the matted wet hair away from his face before shoving off the door and walking the length of the room to crouch down in front of her. Her hands cold and icy in her lap and he took them within his own. She did not move nor breath and within a few moments he knew that she was dead. His scream was caught inside his throat. He did not know what to do, He'd come to depend on sweet sweet mary for a great many things and now, Now she was gone what was he to do? Was this is reward from the doctor or was this something else. His eyes dark and bruding welled up with tears and he slamed his fists against the hardwood floor. Banging them untill he felt the numbness set in. Screaming her name into the dark emptiness of the hallow walls. A small ring of the phone pierced through the darkness, through the screaming and pounding and he was sure it would be some kind of neighbor to complain about the sound. He clawed his way to the table and yanked the phone down with a snarling growl "WHAT??!?!?" on the other end was that familier voice "Do you like your gift Nicki?" Is all that is said before he looks up at the tormented face of his sweet mary. "What is this, She's dead...what the hell is going on?" His voice is hardly above a wisper and there is deep demonic laughter on the other end "MY dear Nicki, What this is is that she was nothing better than the man you killed. A concubine for the god himself, She was with child of the man whom you put a bullet in, And now she too has paid the price for her sins" His eyes close, the world between what he'd known and all that is being shown to him swirls back into blackness, That familer feeling of sickness rushing forward and his hand slams down the phone before he stands up shaking. Drawing up the limp and lifeless body into his arms. Moving her to the bed, almost making a shrine of her being. Tucking the pillows around her head and taking some of the flowers that she'd once brought for him and placing the petals against the blackness of the covers that he so tenderly tucked around her body. Drawing down her habit hood and wafting her hair into plumes of brown softness around her delicate face. Seeing now for the first time the gun shot wound in the side of her temple and exiting out the other side. He pushed that from his mind and when she looked like the angel he'd always thought her to be. Looking over the moonlit room, The artifical lights of the street below sending haunting memories of life before this but he pushes forward, Keep moving kid, Keep going dont stop, when you stop you die. He resites to himself over and over again. TO BE CONTINUED!!!!
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