May, 26, 2546
Over Pilvros, New Carthage, "Hell"
18:45
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A crash echoed out of one of the garages, followed by several voices yelling, probably at each other due to the colourful use of vocabulary and string of names that followed. Italy and I lowered, barely peeking out over the concrete barricade, watching as one of the men sauntered out of the garage, visibly irked.
Italy glanced at me, just a quick, barely noticeable look to her side. I returned the look after she looked away from me, arching my brow. Somehow or another, I knew she was still looking at me in the corner of her eye, watching me. I turned my attention away from her, focusing on the one guy standing outside the garage.
He stood, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. We couldn't see his face from where we were, not directly anyways. His helmet didn't cover his face, leaving that exposed if we needed a quick way to take at least him out.
After a few minutes of us sitting in silence, another man walked out, heading right for the other man. "The boss said undamaged. And what do you do? You go and drop probably the most expensive package in there and break everything inside. Do you realize how pissed he's gonna be at you? No, no, no, not just you. He's gonna blame every one of us. Hell knows what he's gonna do to us. He's fucking insane."
As the man went on and on, his berating tone diminished to the point where we could barely hear his voice. He stopped yelling at the other man the moment he realized that it wasn't just gonna be that one man to take the fall for whatever he broke.
The first man nodded solemnly. He pushed himself off the wall, dropping his hands down to his sides. "Good to know I won't be going down alone," he said it in a joking manner, but the other man's eyes widened at his statement, his brows knitting together.
"Don't. Fucking joke about this, you little shit. He could kill us! Hell, he will kill us! And you're over here having such a merry fucking time about it. You know the boss! He's not as forgiving as the previous one!" The second man yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls, seemingly amplifying his voice.
The silence following was probably the most tense moment I've ever felt between two strangers. They stared - no, glared - at one another before another argument broke out, rife with colourful curses. Then, the sound of e vehicle coming from the other side of the garage made them freeze. The engine was cut off, and I saw the Innie's shoulders suddenly drop in realization.
The steps from whoever was driving the vehicle seemed to echo even louder than the previous argument. Italy and I were just as tense as the Innies in front of us. We watched them carefully, keeping our eyes on the corner that the owner of the vehicle would come around.
When he did, I froze in place.
I would never forget that immaculate dirty blond hair, the angular cheekbones, the stupid high-and-mighty smile, and the dubious, dark eyes that betrayed me - the UNSC.
Stone.
I cursed harshly under my breath, tightening my hands into fists. Italy had to hold me down to stop me from standing up, running, and lunging at the man who took everything from me.
The Innie voices were quiet, now, not looking directly at Stone as they spoke. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I noticed the smile fade from his face, even from this distance. He spoke a single question, quiet, but then repeated himself even louder, and louder, and louder as he turned to yelling at the two of them.
They were scared. I could see them shake ever so slightly from where I was hidden. I chewed on my lip to make myself be quiet. Stone looked between them, then grabbed one of them by the strap that held his chestplate on. He slammed him against the wall of the garage. He yelled insults, slurs, and loudly told him how expensive whatever he broke was.
He punched him several times in the gut, the Innie's face getting paler and paler with each powerful blow. Stone only paused to pull the pistol off his hip. He shot him, twice in the abdomen, and then, as he groaned in horrible pain, silenced him with a shot to the forehead. He threw the body to the ground, kicking the man until he was satisfied.
"Oh god, that makes me sick," Italy whispered, holding a hand over her stomach. I didn't respond, my eyes firmly set on the remaining Innie as Stone's attention turned to him.
"You," he yelled, "are also responsible for this loss. You--" his voice shook with anger and contempt, his hand covering his face. He slammed the butt of the pistol against the Innie's cheekbone, splitting it wide open. Blood pooled down his face, but he didn't dare move.
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A/n: OH
MY
GAWD
an update.
Like, none of you probably ever expected this again.
I didn't. I've been stuck on every book for a long, long, long time. SEVERE writer's block. I'm getting better about it, but it's just been so hard to concentrate.
I'm sorry about the... lack of updates. I will try to be better about it.
Sorry!
-Seeks
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