Unspoken Demises (ON HOLD)

Unspoken Demises chp.9

I came to a stop in front of a dark creepy cabin in the middle of nowhere. Most people would be scared shit-less at the sight of the cabin, but I'm not most people. I got off my motorcycle and I walked towards the wooden door that seems to be barely holding up. The porch creaks with every step I take not allowing me to be discreet about being here.

Just as I was about to knock the door, the door flung open revealing a tall, muscular man that seems to be in about his early 30's. His visible skin seems to be covered with tattoos. He has a scar upon his face and a buzz cut. He looks like he belongs in the military.

"Maxine! What do you want?!" he says in a deep, terrifying voice as he looks around from side to side.

Gordon Smith. Creepiest guy you will ever meet. Scary looking too and very extremely paranoid. His voice sends shivers of fear down your spine, but not me. I've known Gordon for years; to me he's just a giant teddy bear!

"Gordon." I say with a wide smile on my face and he snarls at me. He hates being called Gordon. His nickname is Bloodcurdling because he is so efing scary, but to me he isn't so I like calling him Gordon.

"Look, I need your help." I say and he just stands there crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine! I need your help... Bloodcurdling." I mumble the last part. That nickname is so sucky, but he likes it, and I don't have time to argue with him.

He steps aside and allows me to walk in. Inside the gruesome looking cabin all that you see around is weapons and weapons. Like shotguns, riffles, snipers, grenade launchers, army knives, and Metal Storms; the deadly army weapon. There is a wooden stair case that leads to the second floor. Besides those things there is nothing except for a long wooden table and three wooden chairs. Gordon must really like wood. I never truly noticed that.

I pull out a chair to sit on and it made a loud screeching sound that hurt my ears. I sit down at the same time Gordon sits in his own chair and looks at me.

"What do you want Maxine?" he asks me slowly and carefully in that deep, creepy voice of his.

"I need you to help me prove that I didn't murder Mick Boris." I say carefully so he won't get so paranoid, but he did. He sat stiffly in his chair looking from side to side until his eyes met mine again.

"Maxine, you know the rules," he hisses, "those demises are to be unspoken of. If they find out you are talking about them, they will kill you too and me if I help you."

"I know the rules, but you also know I've NEVER killed anyone and if I don't prove I'm innocent they will threaten my friends' lives like they're threatening mine."

"Who's they?"

"Why does it matter?" I ask trying to avoid the question. He doesn't need to know it's the NSA right?

"Because if you want my help I need to know."

I look down at my hands trying to avoid his questioning gaze. I won't be able to get him to help me without telling him the truth. I sigh. "It's the NSA." I mumble so lowly I don't think he heard me.

"Who?"

"The NSA!" I yell throwing my hands up in frustration. I can't hide it from him that it is NSA threatening me because he wouldn't help me, but now he isn't going to help me either and I have no one else to turn to.

"No. I can't help you." He looks at me with guilt in his eyes for not being able to help me.

"Please! You helped me once and you can do it again! Please!" I beg. I never beg, but this is getting out of hand. I lost my boyfriend/best friend, my friends are being threatened because of me, and my brother wants to put me in prison and he will win if Gordon doesn't help me. I can't let him win after everything I went through because of him.

"You know the reason why I helped you, but I don't think I can risk my life because of you."

I slump down on my seat. Tears welling up in my eyes, but I don't allow them to fall. Three years ago when I was 14 I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and if it hadn't of been because of that day I wouldn't be here fighting to prove my innocence on a murder I didn't commit.

~ 3 years ago ~

I was walking through the cold, musty streets of the awful neighborhood I've been living in. It was really dark right now, but I was starving. I didn't have money for food since I used my not totally legally earned money on paying the rent, so I was out at this time of night scouring the streets for some scraps of food.

My clothes were torn and dirty. The cool breeze of the night making me colder than needed. Some men were at a corner smoking weed and drinking. From what I could see they were stoned to a point of no return and drunk of their asses. I didn't want to risk being raped or mugged or beaten senseless, so I turned to the other direction.

I had made a huge mistake turning that direction.

I saw an old man wearing a suit. He seemed to be in his late 40's. He was struggling to break free from something or someone, but I wasn't sure what. I was slowly backing away when he looked at me and tried screaming for help.

That's when I heard it. I heard the bullet ending that man's life and I was unfortunate enough to witness it for two reasons. One it is always a traumatic time in a person's life witnessing someone getting killed and two because those bastards saw me and began chasing me.

I ran and ran through the filthy dark streets looking around frantically. I needed to hide there was a frigging psycho who had just killed a man chasing me! I wasn't looking were I was going so I ended up trapped in a dark creepy alley. The man's face was hidden in the shadows. He walked a little closer and was able to see the sinister smirk on his face but not his eyes. I knew that I was going to die at that moment and realized the only thing good in my life was Tony and that I loved him.

The man brought up a gun and pointed it to my face. I heard the clicking sound the gun makes when taking off the safety preparing it for shooting. I closed my eyes tightly, but never heard the shot. I hesitantly opened my eyes to see another man standing there silently arguing with the man who was going to shoot me. The man who was about to shoot me turned to face me once again although I still couldn't see his face.

"You have two choices. I could kill you right now or you can come work for me." he said the smirk back on his face.

I gulped. What was I supposed to say? I don't know what he does for a living! I just saw him kill a man; I don't want to become a murderer!

He sighed clearly impatient with me. "Listen I got to go, so my partner here will wait for you to answer. If you don't want to work for us he will kill you." He grinned wickedly and left.