There are only two colors that people will see before they die. It starts off with her condition called central heterochromia where melanin is concentrated around the pupil. A dark amber color around the pupil then spreads out to be gold then light grayish-blue to black. But when she switches that rare unique color goes to a color, not too many people have a light goldish color that is almost white with a dark pupil.
Sometimes that color doesn't always mean they will die. Hermes likes to come out and play.
"Get them," I commanded as my small group of people went after everyone. It is only four of them, but they kill fast. See nothing, but blood painting the floor, and the sound of bullets ringing in the air, I have one thing that I must focus on.
As I walked towards his office, inside of this abandon dusty warehouse, all I hear is men screaming, and begging for mercy. Some of them ran past me as daggers penetrate the back of their heads. Proceeding up the steps, I can see the man that I believe ran this group here hiding from me.
"David come on, don't hide from me that is very rude. Is that how you treat your guests?" I said smiling while I opened the door.
"Listen, I'll have your money, just give me time please." He begged for his life. David is on his knees with his hands in a prayer position like I am his God. Maybe for now I am, and I do decide whether he lives or dies.
"Time, I don't have what you requested. You know my rules upon borrowing money from me. " As I pointed outside, the screams and yells have died down. I see my four people, masked and in black, standing side by side each other. Standing waiting on me while bodies are everywhere. David gets up to see what going on, and he quickly moved to the trash can by his desk, throwing up the contents in his stomach. "You see all of that would have been avoiding me. So much death, and despair you have brought upon their families." I fixed my black suit. I sat down in his leather chair, and I must say it is quite uncomfortable. I pulled out a black box and pulled out a clove cigarette.
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I sat down in his chair and leaned back a bit.
"Have a seat." I motioned to the empty chair in front of me. "Here, have one." I lean forward putting the cigarette in his mouth then pulled out a box of matches. These cigarettes are black and dangerous. I watched as he inhaled, then coughed a bit from the smoke.
"Careful there. These are clove cigarettes made in Indonesia. Illegal in the United States because they are more harmful than menthol, well regular cigarettes in general. In fact, it is safer to just smoke cigarettes than clove cigarettes." I watched as he puffed on the black cigarette. I reached into my suit jacket pocket and pulled out a Cohiba Siglo VI. "You know this cigar is from a private collection from Fidel Castro in Cuba. Smuggled of course, but it is the best Cuban cigars I had."
David is sweating while he is smoking the cigarette. I bit the tip-off my cigar and lit it with two matches.
"Feeling fine there?" I asked him. He almost finished the cigarette, but not knowing that the filter is poisoned with some unknown poisons. "The Jabami Family is really good at medicine. They created this poison for me that is mixed with 7 different poisons. I call it Deadly 7, somewhat like the biblical term 7 Deadly Sins. It starts off with sweating, then turns into coughing, muscle spasms, paralyzation, then you start to see things, pulmonary fibrosis which is bad paired up with coughing, and lastly." as David tumbled down to the floor gasping for air. "Death."
I looked at his desk and saw a picture of his family. "They always have a wife and kids." I laid the picture face down and began getting out of the office. "Should I leave this place like this, or blow it up."
"Leave it, boss." One of my mask men said.
"Good idea. Good job everyone your pay will be given to you all back at our hideout. Once everything is handled, stay safe out there. You know how these people here work. Need anything just give me a call." I said to them. I treat them as friends because they always go a good job for me, and they know I can kill them any second if I wanted to.
As they rolled off in the new black Ford Explorer, I got into my black Hellcat Charger I modified.
Fourth Wall Break
Well, I know you are wondering who am I, and other things. I'm Brynn Hermes Rawlings. Yes, my middle name is Hermes, I know weird. Blame my mother for that name. I am originally from Amsterdam, Netherlands, and moved around to Greece. Then moved to the United States. With Trump as president, and everything going to shit, Amsterdam and Greece never looked so perfect. In fact, they are perfect than living here.
Oh, I am 25 years old, and I have a problem. My problem if beyond a church. As you have seen, I have a lot of control. In a sense, I have a split personality. When I'm in that mode, my eyes change from this rare condition that I have, then to a whole other rare condition. The shit is cool, but I worry about it sometimes. My voice drops a few octaves, demeanor changes, and overall cold, but I haven't experienced my other side coming out to play with a significant other.
In that state, they call me Hermes, like the Greek god. The most clever, yet mischievous Olympian god. And to these people, I am there God. Not to like you know to replace the OG God and Jesus, you know nothing like that. I would never claim that type of title. I'm not trying to knock my chances of getting into heaven, even though I probably already did, but I don't think the devil will like Hermes though. Let me stop talking, I probably sound stupid. Oo I might sound like Deadpool. Eh Eh... no okay.
But you reader, yeah you, stop scrolling down, there is no chapter after this ma'am or sir. The story will continue, but for now, enjoy what you got. Things take time brotha or sista... I'll stop now. I am black and mixed. Mixed like a little recipe baby. Okay for real this is the end of the chapter I promise.
Heeeeyyyy sexy. Okay for real I'm finished, chapter over.
