Alpha Roman

Prologue - Maximus Roman

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Dedicated to: mariellacross (for voting and commenting)
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The light flickered on in the dark room. A stout man with greasy black hair that hung to his shoulders sat handcuffed to a metal chair. A muscular figure peered at him from the shadows before it emerged. The figure glared at the handcuffed man and if looks could kill, the greasy weasel would be six feet under the ground.

"What the heck, Jamison?" the figure growled.

"S-sorry M-Maximus...I-I t-thought h-he w-was t-the-" Jamison said.

"Stop stuttering for Goddess's sake, just answer the question."

"I thought that was the right man, he looked exactly like the description you gave me!"

"I said brown hair you utter fool, not blonde. We could've easily elimanted one of Riker's top men but you messed up. Thanks to you, Riker knows we're onto him and he'll be working twice as hard to destroy us. You've ruined everything you waste of space," Maximus spat and then with a thunderous roar he drew his fist back and slammed it into Jamison's nose.

Jamison made a grunt-like noise before his head slumped forward, indicating his unconsciousness. Maximus gestured the kill motion to a male and female duo that stood behind Jamison. The male smirked and drew a short blade. With a chuckle, the blonde-haired male slid the blade slowly down the right arm of the greasy weasel known as Jamison. Then, the red-headed female drew another blade, yet this one appeared much duller. The female immediately began to slice open Jamison's thighs. Maximus looked on at the scene with some regard but every now and then, his brown eyes flickered in a different direction.

An agonizing scream knocked him out of his reverie. Jamison's forearms and thighs were covered in a thick coat of blood. Jamison himself did not look well either, his eyes bulged out of his sockets in pain every other second and his cheeks were streaked with tears.

"Crank it up," Maximus ordered and watched with an increasing interest as Jamison's screams got louder. The duo didn't reply to Maximus's order but he was sure they heard it; they quickly changed places and looked for the only remaining areas that they hadn't cut.

"Y-you..are..a.." Jamison croaked.

"Devilishly handsome man? Why yes I am, thank you," Maximus scoffed.

"..monster."

"Eh, my schizophrenic mother told me that a lot before I killed her. I don't regret doing that, you really think I'm going to regret killing you?"

Jamison made a gurgle as a reply. Suddenly, Maximus moved toward the metal chair Jamison sat in. He grabbed the back of it and tipped the side with Jamison on it forward, so Jamison hung off of the chair. The only thing that kept the greasy man in place were the handcuffs that bolted him down. Jamison started to hack and then a louder gurgle erupted from his throat. Maximus looked over Jamison's shoulder and watched as the former started to hack up blood. He heard the weasel manage a choking sound and a rushed try to save himself. The weasel made one last gurgle before he fell silent.

Maximus put the chair back upon the ground before he broke the man out of his handcuffs with a simple tug of his wrist. The bleeding body of a moron slumped forward, dead. With a satisfied grin and a quick wipe of his hands, Maximus turned to leave the room. But the image of that dead body already ingrained itself in his head.

"Get that body out of here won't you? I don't want it smelling up this place. Afterwards, let's go to a nice dinner before we leave Chicago, my treat." He called to the duo still inside, while he faked confidence and indifference.

"Yes, Alpha Roman," they replied simultaneously.

Maximus simply chuckled as he shut the door to his basement behind him, hiding the dead body from view. Now, where to go for dinner? He thought and did his best to forget the smell of that place and the feeling of that man's blood on his hands.