The Substitute Prologue
A/N: This is a continuation of my story "A Job Like Any Other", but with a different title and some changes.
Hope you enjoy!
Prologue
It is dark outside. A young man is leaning against his car, waiting. A cigarette is burning between his shaking fingers, lighting up as he takes a drag from it. He taps his foot nervously, and only stops when he sees a car approaching him. It stops ten yards from him. Eyes unfocussed, he looks at the car, and when his foggy mind registers the headlights blink at him, like eyes, he walks over.
The window is rolled down, an arm hangs out, palm up, waiting. The man fumbles in his pockets, looking for the cash he had managed to scrape together. He puts the money in the waiting hand, and his eyes lit up when he gets a small package in return. No words are exchanged. The car speeds off, but the young man doesn’t even notice. His eyes are fixated only on the package.
Later that day, someone walks into his dorm room to find his roommate lying on his bed, a syringe still sticking out of his arm. Blood trickles out of the wound, but it doesn’t matter. Cold, lifeless eyes are proof that it causes no pain. Watching the needle find a vein, and the clear liquid leaving the syringe, will be the last thing those eyes will have been witness to.
A scream. Footsteps running closer. More screams. Soon, the area is filled with sounds and movement, but none of it matters for that one young man, with his lifeless eyes staring off into nothing.
Part 1
Hope you enjoy!
Prologue
It is dark outside. A young man is leaning against his car, waiting. A cigarette is burning between his shaking fingers, lighting up as he takes a drag from it. He taps his foot nervously, and only stops when he sees a car approaching him. It stops ten yards from him. Eyes unfocussed, he looks at the car, and when his foggy mind registers the headlights blink at him, like eyes, he walks over.
The window is rolled down, an arm hangs out, palm up, waiting. The man fumbles in his pockets, looking for the cash he had managed to scrape together. He puts the money in the waiting hand, and his eyes lit up when he gets a small package in return. No words are exchanged. The car speeds off, but the young man doesn’t even notice. His eyes are fixated only on the package.
Later that day, someone walks into his dorm room to find his roommate lying on his bed, a syringe still sticking out of his arm. Blood trickles out of the wound, but it doesn’t matter. Cold, lifeless eyes are proof that it causes no pain. Watching the needle find a vein, and the clear liquid leaving the syringe, will be the last thing those eyes will have been witness to.
A scream. Footsteps running closer. More screams. Soon, the area is filled with sounds and movement, but none of it matters for that one young man, with his lifeless eyes staring off into nothing.
Part 1