The Mercenary

June 22nd, 2009 by Tiffany

He sat up and shook his head, his hands reached up and cradled his head, the
movement sent shock waves of pain through his body, he turned his head and tried to
spit out the dirt that was encrusted in his mouth, but found his mouth to be dry,
he groaned in agony as he tried to stand, sinking back onto the ground, breathing
rapidly he closed his eyes momentarily, trying to regain composure. He remembered
crashing through the woods, tripping and rolling down the embankment, he remembered
the blinding pain tearing through his body as his head struck a rock at the bottom.
He frantically tried to remember the events before but there was nothing, a dark
void. He opened his eyes and screamed, but the sound was only came out as a harsh
gargling sound, tears steamed down his face and he cursed his momentary weakness.
Gradually his laboured breathing became more controlled and instincts took over, he
tried to piece together what lead him to be running through the woods.

His last memory was a woman, straddled above him, poised with a needle in
hand, murmuring “it will all be alright, relax”, he had managed to tear free one of
the restraints and knock her out of the way, moments before the needle was to enter
his arm. He saw her crash into the desk, her temple striking the edge, before
slumping into the ground. He knew he only had moments before the sound alerted
others and quickly untied his restraints, vaulting off the table, adreniline pumping
through his body, he made his way to the window, picking up a chair as he went by
and threw it will all his force, the sound of shattering glass resounded through the
small room, and along with that, sirens, cursing, he vaulted up onto the bench under
the window and crawled through, swinging his legs over, dropping to the ground, he
started running instantly, hearing shouts and dogs barking in the distance, he must
make it to the river or he would be captured.

As he ran, thoughts raced through his mind, how could she betray him? how could he
have been so gullible, they all warned him, this profession left no room for family,
friends or women, no distractions. He now knew why she knew him so well, why she
fed him all he craved.. because she was the same, a mercenary. A very beautiful
one. She knew his weaknesses and attacked them, thoroughly, destroying his defenses
with her feminine charms.

Anger coarsed through him, giving him a surge of energy, he could hear bullets been
fired in the distance, but knew they were no threat, for the moment, he pressed on
harder, faster, using skills honed by years of practise, he thought he knew it all,
from injecting scum with heroin, or the crank,using disgarded old syringes over and
over again, he never cared, they were disposable, he would place a Zippo lighter
under the spoon and drop the chunk of Crank into it followed by a syringe full of
water. He would stirred the Crank as it bubbled away, watching the look of terror in
the scum bag’s eyes.. he would take it off the heat and dropped a cotton ball into
the liquid crank. The heroin was low level street quality and this process was
necessary to filter the impure particles from the mix. He would draw in the potion
from the centre of the ball and flicked the syringe top to expell the air trapped in
the chamber. “Ready for the truth serum ” he’d say, and place the needle between his
teeth while he viciously tied the scum’s forearm with the necktie tourniquet.

He would deftly inserted the needle into their vein with
the precision of a veteran hospital matron. He would drew back cautiously on the
syringe plunger and the inlet of blood indicated a safe penetration to proceed with
the injection, then pressed convincingly on the plunger
and delivered the stupefying concoction deep into their vein,
before releasing the tourniquet restraint and allowing the drug to reach their
heart, and once there having access to every fibre of their body. With regular
doses, their craving would reach fever pitch..and tell him everything, then, when he
was done, he would calmly place the Glock to their temple and fire. Dispensable.

The thought of drugs made him think of Rhianna, if infact that was her real name.
She was a drug, coursing through his blood, living only for her, for when they would
meet next. He momentarily visited their last night together..dinner..he had cooked a
beautiful dinner, afterwards in the candle light, she looked like an angel, he
leaned forward and touched his lips to her. She had pulled back slightly, before
abandoning herself to the sensations, was that all fake too he wondered? before
memories flooded through his mind once again, she sighed against his outh, then
opened her own to him. Hungrily.. He tongue slid into her mouth, tasting her
sweetnss, like nectar, the contact sensitising every part of his body.

He remembered pulling her away slighly, to sweep the table clean, glasses, crockery
crashing to the floor unheaded, the only urgency he had was to take Rhianna hard and
fast. Her skin was satiny smooth, like silk, and his temperature again went up a
notch, when he slid her closer still, he almost expected a shower of sparks, instead
her skirt rode upto her hips and he pressed against her harder, pushing her back
onto the table completely, she opened her knees willingly, moans of passion escaping
her lips. The only thng separating them, as far as flesh to flesh was concerned,
was her sexy black pantihose, with a black seam running up the back of her legs,
teamed with black stilletos – hot. He pressed her closer to him, soft breasts to
muscled chest, he could feel her heart racing and smiled in satisfaction, her arms
wrapping themselves around his neck as they kissed deeper and deeper, harder and
harder. His hand wondered down and felt the heat coming out of her crotch, he
ripped the pantihose off, giving him direct access to her steaming hot pussy. He
dragged his lips away from her mouth and moved down, bending his head until he was
level with her beautiful pussy, slowly, leisurely, his mouth and tongue began to
explore the wetness, feeling her writher beneath his touch, knowing she was close,
her hands grabbing his head and dragging it harder into her pussy, wanting more.
“Fuck me” he heard her whisper, “fuck me hard now”, he couldn’t take anymore, he
pulled back and yanked down his jeans and pants in one movement, not taking time to
take his shoes off, he dragged her by the hips closer to the edge of the table, so
the tip of his cock could feel the wetness of her pussy, feeling the heat coming
straight off her, slowly he rubbed the head of his cock, up and down her swollen
clit, watching her head thrash from side to side, trying to get him to enter into
her, slowly, he sank an inch into her, paused momentarily before thrusting deep and
hard into, fucking her slowly and deliberately, filling her up to the hilt, before
picking up the pace faster and faster, only emptying himself into her after hearing
hear screams of passion….

It was then he lost his footing, plunging down the raving into a ditch, cursing her
again, over and over in his mind as he tumbled over rocks and branches before his
head struck a rock…

“bitch” he muttered as he pulled himself upright, payback will be a bitch.

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