[Orig] Severo Mela (Pilot chapter)
Title: Severo Mela
Author: Umi-chii
Credits: A part of project Rebirth Moon © Umi-chii
Author’s Note: The idea was born when watching Quantum of Solace, when Bond was being car-chased. The original draft had Jeral riding his Mercedes escaping assassins after a dinner date. But then, planning and plotting led me to a whole new version, while maintaining the power-battle and unconventional but morbid love growing between the two leads. And yes, the Italian titles keep on coming back.
Also, another thing to note: the places mentioned shall not be following facts to suit the story’s setting. So sorry for any misinformation the story will bring. Also, characters’ last names were based from real Mafiosos, although the derivations may not exist at all.
Summary: An accidental encounter with the deadliest assassin will put the very underworld playground Jeral rules into a land of deception, destruction, and debauchery, where forbidden love is defined in an all new level and star-crossed lovers aren’t the luckiest couples at all.
Severo Mela
Chapter 0
The lights are all bright in New York City’s Chinatown, dragon and lion dances on the street, cars honking at people enjoying the New Year festival. Bright lanterns are hung all over town, bright Chinese letters casting shadows over the street.
“Get him!”
Guns are passed around as large hotel doors are pushed open. Out swarmed the men in black with machine guns and rifles on hand, as people continued buying roasted chestnuts and Peking ducks.
“Don’t lose sight of him!”
People are strolling down the streets, unaware of the armed men chasing their now missing hit. A gun is fired. A boy screamed and cried. Five seconds passed in its usual, festive air. Then finally, a glass window shatters, and people run for cover, scrambling over each other like ants escaping the rain.
“The bastard’s gone!”
John slammed himself against the wall, pushing the Hope Diamond deep into his bloody suit’s inner pocket. He has thirty minutes to get out of town. His ride is already at the borders waiting for him. That is, unless someone has gotten his ride already.
Slipping out of the dark alley, he mixes with the red shirt wearing people, pulling his coat tighter to cover the huge blood stain on the front of his shirt. It’s not his blood anyway, but it still feels oddly disturbing to have more than three persons’ mixed blood plastered against his skin. He’s a few feet from the Chinatown’s arc leading back to Times Square when a suspicious black car pulled up before him. His hand goes immediately to his back and holds the gun strapped there.
The door window rolls down and John tries his best to look uninterested. He turns for the pedestrian crossing.
“Get in the car,” a female voice called for him. He stops in his tracks and stares at thee dark-haired woman inside the sleep, black Lamborghini. Thundering footsteps and rough Chinese yells tear the air as they push civilians and bystanders away. John immediately slips inside the offered car, door sliding shut with a soft thud.
Both remain in silence. The sound of honks and the car’s music-ironically, it’s playing Rihanna’s Disturbia-is the only sound inside the car. The stoplight has turned red but the car drives past it, ignoring the speed camera are the corner. John takes this as his chance and asks his mysterious driver who she is.
“My name is of no importance. What’s important is that diamond inside your pocket.”
John is surprised.
Startled, he backs away from the woman and reaches for his gun again.
“Who are you?” He asks again and raises his gun, aiming at her temple. But the woman looks unperturbed, almost amused. With a quirk of a delicate eyebrow, her slight smile crooks in a corner, as if daring him to shoot. Five seconds later, a silver Jericho 941 is pulled out of its holster and blood spray the passenger seat’s window as the body thumps against the door before rolling out of the car and unto the highway, leaving behind a trail of red blood.
Back inside the car, Selene balances the Hope Diamond on her palm. It weighs a little heavy against her palm. With one last brush of a thumb on its smooth surface, she tosses it inside a purple velvet pouch and turns the car on a last minute turn. Ignoring the deafening honks, she drives out of New York City beyond the hundred.
Yes, it ends there. Like what the title says, contrary to what I put in FP.Net, this is just the pilot chapter, and might lengthen or get on the hiatus band wagon for a really, really long time until I'm done with the Syndrome trilogy. (or at least Munchausen)
Author: Umi-chii
Credits: A part of project Rebirth Moon © Umi-chii
Author’s Note: The idea was born when watching Quantum of Solace, when Bond was being car-chased. The original draft had Jeral riding his Mercedes escaping assassins after a dinner date. But then, planning and plotting led me to a whole new version, while maintaining the power-battle and unconventional but morbid love growing between the two leads. And yes, the Italian titles keep on coming back.
Also, another thing to note: the places mentioned shall not be following facts to suit the story’s setting. So sorry for any misinformation the story will bring. Also, characters’ last names were based from real Mafiosos, although the derivations may not exist at all.
Summary: An accidental encounter with the deadliest assassin will put the very underworld playground Jeral rules into a land of deception, destruction, and debauchery, where forbidden love is defined in an all new level and star-crossed lovers aren’t the luckiest couples at all.
Severo Mela
Chapter 0
The lights are all bright in New York City’s Chinatown, dragon and lion dances on the street, cars honking at people enjoying the New Year festival. Bright lanterns are hung all over town, bright Chinese letters casting shadows over the street.
“Get him!”
Guns are passed around as large hotel doors are pushed open. Out swarmed the men in black with machine guns and rifles on hand, as people continued buying roasted chestnuts and Peking ducks.
“Don’t lose sight of him!”
People are strolling down the streets, unaware of the armed men chasing their now missing hit. A gun is fired. A boy screamed and cried. Five seconds passed in its usual, festive air. Then finally, a glass window shatters, and people run for cover, scrambling over each other like ants escaping the rain.
“The bastard’s gone!”
John slammed himself against the wall, pushing the Hope Diamond deep into his bloody suit’s inner pocket. He has thirty minutes to get out of town. His ride is already at the borders waiting for him. That is, unless someone has gotten his ride already.
Slipping out of the dark alley, he mixes with the red shirt wearing people, pulling his coat tighter to cover the huge blood stain on the front of his shirt. It’s not his blood anyway, but it still feels oddly disturbing to have more than three persons’ mixed blood plastered against his skin. He’s a few feet from the Chinatown’s arc leading back to Times Square when a suspicious black car pulled up before him. His hand goes immediately to his back and holds the gun strapped there.
The door window rolls down and John tries his best to look uninterested. He turns for the pedestrian crossing.
“Get in the car,” a female voice called for him. He stops in his tracks and stares at thee dark-haired woman inside the sleep, black Lamborghini. Thundering footsteps and rough Chinese yells tear the air as they push civilians and bystanders away. John immediately slips inside the offered car, door sliding shut with a soft thud.
Both remain in silence. The sound of honks and the car’s music-ironically, it’s playing Rihanna’s Disturbia-is the only sound inside the car. The stoplight has turned red but the car drives past it, ignoring the speed camera are the corner. John takes this as his chance and asks his mysterious driver who she is.
“My name is of no importance. What’s important is that diamond inside your pocket.”
John is surprised.
Startled, he backs away from the woman and reaches for his gun again.
“Who are you?” He asks again and raises his gun, aiming at her temple. But the woman looks unperturbed, almost amused. With a quirk of a delicate eyebrow, her slight smile crooks in a corner, as if daring him to shoot. Five seconds later, a silver Jericho 941 is pulled out of its holster and blood spray the passenger seat’s window as the body thumps against the door before rolling out of the car and unto the highway, leaving behind a trail of red blood.
Back inside the car, Selene balances the Hope Diamond on her palm. It weighs a little heavy against her palm. With one last brush of a thumb on its smooth surface, she tosses it inside a purple velvet pouch and turns the car on a last minute turn. Ignoring the deafening honks, she drives out of New York City beyond the hundred.
Yes, it ends there. Like what the title says, contrary to what I put in FP.Net, this is just the pilot chapter, and might lengthen or get on the hiatus band wagon for a really, really long time until I'm done with the Syndrome trilogy. (or at least Munchausen)