Dead Eye (Choni)

Prologue

The birth of Dead Eye occured after a series of tragic incidents in my life.

 It began when the private plane my parents were in on their way home from a conference in France mysteriously crashed, killing both of them.

My brother, Jason and I were left, two over privileged twenty year-olds with a billion dollar company to run, when we had no idea what its significance even was.

We didn't understand what to do. How could we? We were kids with God complexes and pockets so deep that they were as undiscovered as the Earth's oceans. We had to learn along the way as we coped in various ways, him through alcoholism, and me, by learning how to perfect myself.

I put down the toys and sex, and picked up morals and an understanding of just what our business entailed.

I got engaged to my then, on-again, off-again girlfriend, Heather, who kept me sane. She helped me understand my feelings when all I wanted to understand was what could've happened to my parents' plane. She taught me how to be humble, how to take things as they come, and that things are much more important than money.

She was the only constant in my life other than Jason, and after almost two years, I was finally able to think about my parents without having the wrenching pain in my chest, hammering at me and warning me that something wasn't right.

It was Christmas Eve, when Jason, Heather and I were having dinner at a restaurant, which was completely vacated for us, when the sounds of gunshots assaulted my ears, and bullets assaulted the head of my fiance, and my shoulder.

I remember fading in and out of consciousness as I was being moved around like a rag doll, tied to the chair was in previously as I struggled to keep myself awake.

"I'll let ya go." I heard a deep, diabolical voice, and my eyes fixed on the form of a tan man with a devious grin as we looked me in the eyes, hunched over as he looked between Jason's eyes and my own. He was shaking and exhaling, having a hard time keeping his composure, begging to be let go at once. "I'll let ya go when you tell me where Penelope and Cliff hid the DJL ninety six." He demanded, and in my state of delirium, I gave him a look of bewilderment.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Asked Jason angrily, fighting against his restraints, a single zip tie holding his wrists behind the back of the chairs we sat in.

"The file!" He seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging, green hues surrounding his tan skin. "Where did they hide the DJL file?!" He barked, causing me to wince.

"Look," Jason whimpered, his head snapping to me in fear that I'd be killed. "We didn't even know what this company was about before our parents died." He said truthfully, "We didn't even know the computer passwords when we became the owners."

"See," Chuckled the darkly handsome man as he paced back and forth in front of us, hands behind his back as he looked between the two strong guards on either side of the room. "I think you're hiding something here, and I want to find out what it is." He reached into the pocket of his black pinstripe blazer, pulling out a pocket knife and switching the blade out. "I'll do what it takes to get what I need from you, Mr Blossom." He taunted, eying the guard to his right, who walked over and untied me, jerking me out of my chair and holding me upright with my arms behind my back, causing me to whimper in pain at the blood pouring from my open wound, down the neckline of my dress. He took the dip of my dress's neckline and cut it until the fabric fell free, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.

"Such a pretty face." He tisked, touching the sharp blade against the skin of my cheek, causing my hair to stand up as my blood curdled inside of my body. "We'll make sure she can keep an open casket, in case you really are too proud not to tell me what you know." I gasped in horror when I felt white hot heat and absolute bone chilling cold at the same time, the knife having been plunged deep inside of my abdomen. I let out a sob, my face contorting in pure pain as I tried to fight off my pain. He looked to my brother and chuckled deeply. "That way you can stare at her face when they lower her into the ground." He chuckled, twisting the handle so that my skin tore in a way that made breathing painful, each inhale like a thousand degrees of hot coals being pelted at me. Each exhale like expelling fire from the unnatural gape in my tissue.