Here I go again, jumping into another plot before it's stationary...
Six men sat at the meza, jedwali in a circle, evenly spaces from one another. The floor-to-ceiling window beside them showed them the presidential suits full view of Atlantic City, New Jersey.
Papers, maps, and picha were strewn across the table. There was enough information to creat a time line for all six targets. They could take them out, one kwa one, easy. Their boss would be very happy.
The men glanced up as the lights flickered in the hotel room. Then went out.
A thump was heard from across the room. The men stood in alarm, surrounded kwa darkness, their eyes unable to penetrate the darkness.
Two of them were grabbed from behind and thrown into the into the wall. There was a clatter as the shelves and antiques fell.
A glint of silver flashed as the throwing knives passed through a beam of moonlight. Two zaidi men dropped.
The remaining two moved closer together, searching the shadows and silhouettes for the intruder. A thin blade lifted before their widening eyes.
It hovered in midair before the shocked men. Then, it turned and flew into one man's chest. A sickening gurgle filled the silence before he dropped to the ground.
The final standing man whipped his heads around, and when he spoke, fear spiked his voice.
"Who are you? Where are you?" he cried.
"It doesn't matter the who au where," a youthful voice growled. "All that matters is wewe tell your boss to leave my family alone."
"Seeker," the man breathed.
"Nighty night," the voice said. A fist slammed into the man's face and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
60 sekunde later, the lights turned back on. Six men were the only occupants. Only one had a heartbeat.
Should I continue it?
Six men sat at the meza, jedwali in a circle, evenly spaces from one another. The floor-to-ceiling window beside them showed them the presidential suits full view of Atlantic City, New Jersey.
Papers, maps, and picha were strewn across the table. There was enough information to creat a time line for all six targets. They could take them out, one kwa one, easy. Their boss would be very happy.
The men glanced up as the lights flickered in the hotel room. Then went out.
A thump was heard from across the room. The men stood in alarm, surrounded kwa darkness, their eyes unable to penetrate the darkness.
Two of them were grabbed from behind and thrown into the into the wall. There was a clatter as the shelves and antiques fell.
A glint of silver flashed as the throwing knives passed through a beam of moonlight. Two zaidi men dropped.
The remaining two moved closer together, searching the shadows and silhouettes for the intruder. A thin blade lifted before their widening eyes.
It hovered in midair before the shocked men. Then, it turned and flew into one man's chest. A sickening gurgle filled the silence before he dropped to the ground.
The final standing man whipped his heads around, and when he spoke, fear spiked his voice.
"Who are you? Where are you?" he cried.
"It doesn't matter the who au where," a youthful voice growled. "All that matters is wewe tell your boss to leave my family alone."
"Seeker," the man breathed.
"Nighty night," the voice said. A fist slammed into the man's face and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
60 sekunde later, the lights turned back on. Six men were the only occupants. Only one had a heartbeat.
Should I continue it?
Daily Episode
siku Forty-Nine:
Static Shock Episode Four: "Grounded"
Link: link
Summary: While analyzing a part of an amoeba mutated kwa the Big Bang, Virgil and Richie become locked in school late at night with the protesting journalism class, led kwa Frieda.
What's the lesson from this? Don't use your school lab for superhero research unless you're (a) dressed as alisema superhero au (b) you're positive no one will get harmed kwa the experiment. Listen to that, Virgil.
siku Forty-Nine:
Static Shock Episode Four: "Grounded"
Link: link
Summary: While analyzing a part of an amoeba mutated kwa the Big Bang, Virgil and Richie become locked in school late at night with the protesting journalism class, led kwa Frieda.
What's the lesson from this? Don't use your school lab for superhero research unless you're (a) dressed as alisema superhero au (b) you're positive no one will get harmed kwa the experiment. Listen to that, Virgil.