O D A I N E
Back in Jamaica.......
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"Talk straight before Dain tek out him anger pon." Alex warns to the illiterate man I was forced to interogate since mi people dem cyah seem to mek him talk
All dis just a fuck up mi medz "yuh mute or wah my youth?"
This one wasn't like the rest, he wasn't trembling or begging for mercy but I wasn't in the mood to put effort into getting a word out of him "Might as well kill mi, cause mi nah seh nth." He says, looking me straight in the eyes
Brave
"Ok." I aimed and fired. A bullet went straight through his skull and his body went limp almost immediately. I kissed my teeth, seeing the mess "tell smaddy fi clean dat up."
Alex shook his head, not surprised at how impatient I've become. I subconsciously strolled to the next hostage and waited, when he also remained quiet; I didn't bother trying and instead fired a series of shots and moved on.
The last one however got the memo, and starts the spill information holding unto the little hope that I might spare his life. His breath hitched, as I told Alex to cut him loose.
He seems surprised for some reason.
Alex looked shocked at my instructions but did it without hesitating. He got the knive and cut through the rope.
I leaned back on the nearest wall and examined the gun in my hand. All the years I've had to get use to it, it now felt light almost like it was apart of me.
Every part of it felt normal, killing felt normal. It no longer faze me to the slightest bit. My finger lingers on the trigger, as I slowly lift my gaze to the last remaining hostage.
"Which one yuh prefer, 9mm or a 45?" I asked this question while tapping my gun on the wall
It wasn't a complicated question but the man who was just a minute ago tied up, couldn't seem to come up with an answer
I continued "personally mi prefer the 9mm, but that's just me. You?"
He hesitates "you're right."
I tilt my head. Showing a small toothless smile "Some people might disagree, what do you prefer; Alex?"
My random mention of his name caught him off guard but he gave his honest opinion "mi prefer 45."
I smiled "See, he disagrees."
The steady tapping of my gun halts "like the 99mm and 45, I'm deciding what's a better option,you dead or alive."
The steady breath of the man slouching in front of me, quickens as he realized my intentions of debating if he should live or not.
My smile fades "Alex, what do you think, dead or alive?"
"Dead." He shrugs
"Why?"
"He works for Giovanni plus he's a snitch." He voiced out
"Hmm." I hummed, trailing the barrel of my pistol across my palm "wah bout you." I said pointing it "dead or alive."
What was said next surprised me
"Dead."
You would think a person in his position would be more determine to survive but he gave up so easy, why?
