Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2020 21:39:01 GMT -7
"Quick. Quick. Hurry. We gotta get out of here before It comes back!" Filling a gym bag with as much money as she could, the girl looked around in panic. She had and probably would never see this much money ever again. Stacks of twenty, fifty, and hundred dollar bills wrapped in rubber-bands lay on a table.
Her partner in crime, another female of hispanic decent, gave her a perplexed look. "Louis said it was just an old geezer holding a little midget mannequin."
The girl shot her partner a sharp look and harshly whispered, "Just grab what you can! Scarface isn't someone to be trifled with. Do you remember watching the Wizard of Oz when you were 3? Imagine the Wicked Witch, only worse! Or the creepy doll, Chucky. Yeah."
Twenty-four hours ago, the girl had been involved in a heist. A robbery of a small local bank near Bludhaven along with three other criminals. Louis was one of them. Her friend. Nothing more. The robbery had gone off without a hitch. A smooth operation where the break in team was provided with schematics, time schedules, security guard patrol routes, police reaction times, etc. The mastermind knew what they were doing.
The latino girl just shrugged and began filling up her sack with stacks of cash."Why are we doing this again?"
"Because we were stiffed on the money! Louis calculated that we were paid less than half of what we were owed."
The Latino girl shook her head in disbelief. It did not take them to much longer to finish. The girl looked out of the window of the 'safe house.' Her already heightened anxiety was getting worse. Her heart rate was now easily over one-hundred and twenty beats per minute. "Where the heck is Louis? He should be outside with the car."
That is when they heard the little chime. A high pitched whisper that creaked and cracked every tenth syllable. At the entrance of the apartment, Arnold Wesker aka the Ventriloquist appeared. It was wearing a brown trench-coat stained with splotches of blood. It's glasses were hanging off the bridge of the nose, hair disheveled and full of sweat. In Wesker's arm rested Scarface dressed in a purple suit with white pinstripes. It was Scarface who initially spoke.
"LOUIS WON'T G'E JOINING YE. HE MADE DA SAME MISTAKE YE DID. G'Y DA WAY, TANKS FOR PACKING DA CASH UP FOR US. HAHAHAHA!"
Out popped the tommy gun. Out rattled the bullets. Down went the two bodies. Their blood drained through the cracks in the wooden floor. The Ventrloquist stepped over their bodies. It slung one of the gym bags over the shoulder and chimed as It walked out.
"A-tisket, a-tasket
A green and yellow basket
I wrote a letter to my love
And on the way I dropped it
I dropped it
I dropped it
Yes, on the way I dropped it
A little boy he picked it up
and put it in his pocket. Heeeeeeee"
Her partner in crime, another female of hispanic decent, gave her a perplexed look. "Louis said it was just an old geezer holding a little midget mannequin."
The girl shot her partner a sharp look and harshly whispered, "Just grab what you can! Scarface isn't someone to be trifled with. Do you remember watching the Wizard of Oz when you were 3? Imagine the Wicked Witch, only worse! Or the creepy doll, Chucky. Yeah."
Twenty-four hours ago, the girl had been involved in a heist. A robbery of a small local bank near Bludhaven along with three other criminals. Louis was one of them. Her friend. Nothing more. The robbery had gone off without a hitch. A smooth operation where the break in team was provided with schematics, time schedules, security guard patrol routes, police reaction times, etc. The mastermind knew what they were doing.
The latino girl just shrugged and began filling up her sack with stacks of cash."Why are we doing this again?"
"Because we were stiffed on the money! Louis calculated that we were paid less than half of what we were owed."
The Latino girl shook her head in disbelief. It did not take them to much longer to finish. The girl looked out of the window of the 'safe house.' Her already heightened anxiety was getting worse. Her heart rate was now easily over one-hundred and twenty beats per minute. "Where the heck is Louis? He should be outside with the car."
That is when they heard the little chime. A high pitched whisper that creaked and cracked every tenth syllable. At the entrance of the apartment, Arnold Wesker aka the Ventriloquist appeared. It was wearing a brown trench-coat stained with splotches of blood. It's glasses were hanging off the bridge of the nose, hair disheveled and full of sweat. In Wesker's arm rested Scarface dressed in a purple suit with white pinstripes. It was Scarface who initially spoke.
"LOUIS WON'T G'E JOINING YE. HE MADE DA SAME MISTAKE YE DID. G'Y DA WAY, TANKS FOR PACKING DA CASH UP FOR US. HAHAHAHA!"
Out popped the tommy gun. Out rattled the bullets. Down went the two bodies. Their blood drained through the cracks in the wooden floor. The Ventrloquist stepped over their bodies. It slung one of the gym bags over the shoulder and chimed as It walked out.
"A-tisket, a-tasket
A green and yellow basket
I wrote a letter to my love
And on the way I dropped it
I dropped it
I dropped it
Yes, on the way I dropped it
A little boy he picked it up
and put it in his pocket. Heeeeeeee"