Ransom Joke

Ok so one of my friends left her dummy head for learning how to cut hair for a few days. So I was playing around with my fake blood and a flashlight...then I made a ransom video for her to come and pick it up.

Midnight Text

“So I find myself awake.  Again.  Just listening to music.  Avoiding what life has for me.  It’s really no fun because I realize that life isn’t something that just happens.  You have to fight for it.  But then what do you fight for?  I know that I want her, but I don’t.  Because I don’t fight for her. I don’t fight for anything.  Why?” Tom pushed his computer away from his tired face and stood to go to bed.  The rest of the blog entry could wait until tomorrow.  Or next week.  Whenever he got around to it again.  He reached across his desk to shut off the light and knocked over his full bottle of pills.  His happy pills.  Anti-depressants that the doctor had given him last week.

            As he studied the ugly orange case his phone beeped loudly in the darkness.  He knew who it would be.  It was always the same thing, like clockwork.

            ‘Hey what are you up to?’  The text was the same every time.  Tom knew that he should just pretend like he was asleep.  But everyone knew he was an insomniac.              His tired fingers had trouble hitting the right buttons as he wrote back. ‘Nothing per usual’

            ‘Oh…me either’

            ‘Haha…’ he wasn’t really laughing, but rather he was debating if it was worth it.

            ‘So I got a new movie…wanna come watch it?’ 

            A quiet “No…” escaped his lips as he responded to her text. ‘Sure, give me ten.’ 

            Tom rang the doorbell eight minutes later.  She was in her pajamas.  She smiled at him.  He just half smiled as he walked in before she invited him.  Instantly Tom missed his music.

            Her blond hair streaked red as the sun set on the TV.  Tom sat on the far end of the couch.  Her knees where up to her chest.  He quietly laughed at the whole situation.  Why be an optimist when it always ended like this?

            End credits.  A stupid love story, the idiots ended up living happily ever after.  Whatever that means.

            An awkward goodbye.

            Tom laughed as he balanced on the cement barrier between the grass and the black parking lot.  “You should be used to this by now… What else is there?” He stopped with his left foot dangling a foot off the ground.  His mind suddenly a buzz. 

            His car sped down the narrow street.  The music blared.  He felt numb.

            He cracked his knuckles over his harshly illuminated keyboard.  He typed an answer to his question that glowed on the screen. “Because this is who I am fighting to be.  Alone.  I am happy alone.”  Another successful lie written in cyber ink for the crowds to consume.  Tom closed his laptop and crawled into bed.  He drifted off to sleep thinking of her. 

Final Touch (Teaser)

Ok so Touch isn't over with just the death of the would-be assassin, heres a little preview of the next part of the story. Sorry Mark isn't in this part, but I promise you find out what happens...eventually. ;-)

        
Felicia walked into the bank with her hair covering the right side of her face.  The black of her hair matched the black suit she wore.  She looked as if she was there for business, but her face was unreadable.  Stoic.  She approached the golden doors of the elevator and pushed the down button.  The guard watched every motion of her tall body.  Everything proportional.  He adjusted his belt as the elevator doors closed her off from the outside world.  “Pig.” She said as she turned to face the rear of the empty elevator and placing one foot on the railing against the back wall and propelled herself up and with one motion opened the escape hatch at the top of the elevator.   As it opened her hair was thrown wild by rushing wind.   In less then two seconds she was standing a top the lowering box.  “This is far too easy.  The Company better provide more exciting jobs after this interview.”  Felicia had a nasty habit of talking to herself.  She smiled as she walked to the edge of the falling platform, she was entering the subbasement and could feel the cooler air start to hit her.  Three more feet and she would be there.  She calmly stepped off the platform and onto a crossbeam of the elevator shaft supports. 

            In front of her was the air duct that she needed.  “Lovely” she smiled.  But as she reached for the grate to pull it off she noticed fingerprints.  “Damn…not the only applicant.”  She pulled back her hand and reaching into her knee high stiletto boot, pulled out a small hunting knife and placed it on her belt for easier access.  It was one of her favorites.  She smiled as she pulled off the grate and entered the air duct.  

            Pulling grate back into place she watched as the elevator made its way back up to the main floor.  With barely any room at all she twisted her body around and made her way silently towards her destination.  She remembered what it had been like on her first job with the Russians.  She smiled as she made her way through the messy tracks of her competitor, he wasn't that good at hiding his trail.   The Russians had hired her for three years to follow a ‘subject of great importance’ they had said.  He was a pig just like the rest of them and deserved what she finally gave him.  The Russians however didn’t want him killed so publically.  That was a fond memory when they had finally paid her.  A little ransom never killed anyone…well actually it did, but she had to get her five million somehow.  Felicia almost laughed aloud at the memory of her last employer.  She didn’t think they would give her a reference.  But then again she didn’t really need one.  

            She reached the end of the air duct and the only way was down.  Peering through the vent she could see a tall man, well built.  Early thirties standing up against the wall listening for anyone on the other side.  Idiot! Felicia thought You should always watch your back.  She made sure the knife was where she wanted it on her belt and raised her hands together like a hammer above the vent.  She wasn’t always perfectly silent. Sometimes she enjoyed making noise.  A smile graced her face as she brought her hands down hard.  Hitting the vent down and through the hole, she finessed her body through the opening.  A perfect front flip without touching the sides of the vent.  She landed silently but her hammer hit had turned the competition on his heels and he reached for his gun as she pounced on him, pulling up her knife to his throat.

            Dean was slammed up against the wall.  A young girl in black held a knife to his throat.  He was taken completely off guard and nearly pissed himself.  “Who…who the hell are you?”  He stuttered as she pressed a very sharp knife hard into the skin on his throat.   His mind raced.  He had three weapons. None were easy grabs from this angle.  It would have to be a fist fight.

            “So you here for the interview too?”  Her voice was odd.  It wasn’t American but he couldn’t place it, which immediately pissed him off because he had been a language specialist with the Navy Intelligence.

            “I guess so.” He held is hand out to shake her hand.  She took a step back. Perfect.  She reached for his hand, a smile across her face.

            “You haven’t done many of these interviews have you?” She smirked.  He lunged for her hand and pulled her hard towards him and kneed her quick and sharp in the gut. But missed the knife with is left hand.  She was quick.

            “I have been to a few.” was his response to her question.  His knee told her that he wasn’t joking.  That was stupid of her.  She pulled back and held her knife up ready.  So it was a dance that he wanted.

            “Oh I was hoping for some fun!” Felicia said joyously.