The Crackhead II

Chapter 12- Fear and Anger

Whitey was in a big room decorated with abstract paintings. Different angels could be seen on the blue ceiling. Some were toddlers, some were young and strong and some were old and dark. The floor had a shining gold color. Strangely, the sun rays were reflecting a light yellow from it to the ceiling. Whitey was sitting on a white sofa in the corner of the room. He had just received a scary call from Khan being in danger, but he didn't know what happened next. Suddenly, he got another call.

"Yes?"

"Sir, it's important!"

Whitey's face expression changed from relaxed to anxious. The voice continued to speak.

"Khan, sir. He is arrested! His group is..."

But Whitey wasn't listening anymore. He was feeling the tension. Anger made his veins appear in his forehead. A portion of fear was circulating in his body. Getting stronger, from second to second. He finally decided to speak.

"What happened to his group?"

The man was confused, because he had already told the story, but he spoke again.

"25 of his men are dead, sir."

"What about the others?! What happened to Sebastian? I said to run! They didn't make it?!"

"Sebastian is dead too sir. The others are arrested. None escaped. I watched them from my car, it was a failure! I..."

Whitey threw his phone on the floor. Instantly, the shining reflection of the floor disappeared, as if the sun understood Whitey's feelings. The crushing of the phone made a loud noise and a maiden came inside, scared. She looked at her boss's expression and realized the situation. She pointed her eyes to the floor, not daring to look at those scary eyes again. Whitey scratched his head and spoke without looking at her.

"Bring me another one."

"Yes sir."

The maiden started running outside the room. Whitey had a mix of feelings in his head. He was thinking way too much. Not long after, he got a headache. What would he say to The Upper Ones? Was he going to get affected? What will happen without a good boss like Khan?

The maiden came back with 2 brand new phones and let them on a table nearby. She left the room as fast as possible without being noticed, and closed the door again.

*

Crackhead was driving back to his home.

"It is alright. It's just one boss. There are more left. I won't let anyone get Igor from me... what am I thinking...I need to find Smokey. That's my only mission!"

Chris stopped the car without reaching the outside door.

"What the actual fuck?! Why?! Why did this happen?!"

He was looking at his home. The windows were all broken and there were cracks on the outside wall. Chris rushed inside.

It wasn't a home anymore. It was just a disaster.

"What? How?!"

He was speechless. A small fire was still burning in the edge of the first floor, although the insides of the house were already black and burnt out. Small pieces of rumbles fell just next to him. Chris ran out the building.

"Everyone is dead! Their corpses are just lying there...they are...dead."

The happy and ambitious expressions had left his face. There was only anger and confusion. The worst combination of all. Suddenly something exploded and the fire became bigger, now appearing outside, slowly "eating" the walls. The house was near total destruction. It had been a long time, since it was brought to flames, though still lasting for a little more.

"I don't.....who did it?! Who fucking did it?!"

Then he snapped out of confusion.

"Of course! They knew my address. What was I thinking?! I got so concentrated in the plan, I forgot my home! Damn it! Fuck!"

Crackhead was staying in front of his ruined home. The building made a large noise, as it collapsed to the ground. But the fire was still there, still "nibbling" on rubbish. The water fell down from the broken pool and finally managed to set the fire out, as it was alive.

"I wasn't expecting them so early! Fucking hell!"

He shouted.

"Fuck you guys! You are all dead!"

"Ooh, they are dead. They are soo dead!"

He ran back to his Mercedes.

He had none left to serve him anymore. All his servants were dead. There would be none to give him a warm coffee, or an ice-cold cocktail. There was no chef to serve him shrimps and none to clean his mess. He had no bed anymore. He had no roof up his head. It was only Crackhead and his car.

"I will meet Castro again. Or I can go to the police. I don't know... I can't fucking tell them about this. This house was not registered and there is even a dead body buried there...wait..."

He then remembered his white planning room. All his written plans were burnt. Chris shouted again!

"Fuck!"

Crackhead was too angry. He was trying to open his car's door, but his foot slipped on a muddy rock and he fell down, with a bullet slightly missing his head. He was mad for a second, but after that only second he realized, that rock had saved his life.

"Someone shot at me! If I hadn't fell, I would have been dead! You are so lucky Crackhead, you should just go! Just go!"

He opened the door and started the car, driving very fast. A voice could be heard from the woods.

"Damn it! I missed! I should have aimed faster!"

^AchingThoughts^.^