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Going, Going, Gone

started by JimRobin on Tuesday, November 1, 2011 at 5:53am PDT
modified on Monday, January 26, 2015 at 1:38pm PST

With his free hand he was able to get to his phone.

It was Oliver whose mother has just died. He stared at the flashing caller-id in apprehension; how on earth did you comfort someone so dislikable?

The answer was simple, you didn't, so he let it ring in the darkness of his room, his mind telling him to pick up, but his personal grudge saying no.

He had more important things to worry about than Oliver- Oliver who used to be so kind, Oliver who used to be his best friend, Oliver who had apologized, Oliver, who, maybe, had been sincere. He picked up the phone, but the voice on the other end was not Oliver's.

"Ah, hello there," a rich vice answers, smooth as velvet, warm as sunlight, and more full of contempt than anything he had heard in his life. "I gather that you are Bradley"- Brad, he wants to scream, I go by Brad!- "Conley, yes? Answer me or not, it does not matter. Now on to business. I have your friend Oliver with me. Despite how long it took for you to pick up, he insisted you were his closest friend. It's lucky that you picked up on the tenth call. I don't like numbers above ten, and I was just about to blow that Oliver-chap's head off. Thankfully, you answered." Brad could almost see the cruel smile the other man, and his blood ran cold, ice streaming through his veins.

As much as Brad vehemently disliked (hate was a strong word) Oliver, he didn't want to be responsible for anyone's death. "Put 'im on," Brad said, voice coarse from disuse. "Sorry, Oliver can't make it to the phone right now, may i take a message?"

Yes you will said Brad. He could feel the hate growing through the phone. He had to be carefull now. "I would like to notify Oliver that he still owes me two dollars and he can expect to be set free from your clutches by Thursday." He knew he played a bold move. It was Monday, by Thursday Oliver could be dead. Also, he probobly pissed of the guy. But the man simply replied "He's got the message. He'll stay alive untill 20:01 on Friday. Exactly, I await your attempts to save him." This was going to be a big problem. Wait not big, but SUPER BIG OF EXOTIC PROPORTIONS.

He knew who it had been on the other end. The man he had tried to find for years. But of course in those days he had gone by Reaper. He tried to forget, but the nightmares wouldn't allow that. And now this had happened. He knew he had to once again become Reaper.

He went into the crawlspace of his house and dug out the old costume, kind of silly looking at it now. He fixed it up and made it a bit more modern, because you have to kick ass in style. Brad, now Reaper, jumped into his jet black Chevy Impala, and cruised on over to the police station to gather information from one of his buddies there.

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