The Familia. (ZeRoyalChaos TOS fanfiction)

Consequences.

I landed hard on the ground, and my side jolted with pain. I heard someone else grunt as they landed with a thud. It was stuffy inside the sack, and I was trying to stay calm. The air stank of fuel, and I was scared that an arsonist was lighting us up.
It could be a transporter. You should be fine, just breathe. Even if it is a transporter, we're in trouble. We had plans, and this won't end well.

-

I holster the gun, looking over the people gathered in my basement. I'd wasted too much time making friends and carrying out tasks without a deadline. It was time to act.

"Tonight's a big night. I intend to kill, and I need you all to be ready. I want the body and house cleaned, I need their housemate distracted, and if you want to disguise yourself as them, go ahead." I finished, and watched them think it over. After a little while they all nodded.

"Who's the target?" The janitor asked.

"Who's the housemate?" The consort added.

"Tonight, I put an end to my war. The target is Max, the roommate is Steven."

"Okay." The disguiser answered for them all, "We're ready when you are. I may or may not disguise as him, it depends on how fast and clean the job is."

"Alright. Follow me, but not immediately-" I was stopped by a knock at the door. I held a finger to my lips, hoping the visitor would leave. The knock came again, more aggressively. I knew they wouldn't give up, and if I didn't answer they'd break in. I prayed for it to be a friend, and not danger.

I crept up the basement stairs, and pulled open the front door in a confident manner. Then it went black. I tried to fight them off, but they managed to hold on. There was a sudden impact, and my head was smashed against something. I held onto consciousness for a second or two, but it was impossible to stay awake. I passed out.

-

My head still hurts, and it feels damp. The impact must have caused a wound, I'd have to deal with it later.
If a transporter has you, you have to shoot the second person. Whoever else was transported has to die. It's part of the town's curse, black magic's a bitch.

I felt hands forcing me upright, and I sat up obediently. My hands were tied in front of me, but my upper arms were tied to my body. I couldn't do anything to escape, other than run, but I knew we weren't outside.

My gun was ripped from my holster, and forced clumsily into my hands. I took it, and waited.

There was more shuffling opposite me, and a muffled voice emerged from the darkness, "Shoot. Pull the trigger."

"You want me to do this?" My hot breath filled the sack, and it was frustrating to be so helpless and uncomfortable.

"Yes."

"I can't do it." As the words came out it was like a force overtook my body. My hands steadied, and my finger hovered over the trigger.

"Do it."

"No-" Someone else's finger shoved mine down. The gun fired, and the kickback knocked me over. The loud noise was short, and the small room seemed to shake. I felt my knees become damp, as something soaked through my clothes. I had to guess it was blood. The other person must have been closer than I expected. There were quiet cries of pain, muffled by another sack, but I knew this voice. It was familiar.

"Oh God, save me. What is happening?" She mumbled, whimpering in pain.

A car's engine revved, and the transporter took off.  The curse was a big joke. That fucker kills people because he can. He made us do it though...