Drug Lord Anon; Prologue

Drug Lord Anon

Prologue

>After graduating high school, your two older brothers brought you into the drug trade

>They told you of it's benefits and rewards, as well as it's concerning negatives

>You decide to deal drugs for your older brother's gang anyways, you feel protected by them

>It went okay for the first few years, a few run-in's with the police that you easily escaped

>Eventually, your competition had enough of your business and decided to put you out

>Several robbers came into your "crib" and killed both of your brothers, shot in the head

>They let you live, leaving a message that they meant business, don't fuck with the Tunnel Snakes

>You left, but you wanted revenge. Luckily, you lived in Arizona, home of some of the best hit teams around

>With the drug money you had, you hired several teams to take out the men that killed your brothers, yet your relationship doesn't end there

>You offer a partnership, hiring the hit teams to look for some new recruits and keep them hired permanently for your company, and your company only

>They accept, and several years later, your business flows clear from the Northern and Southern hemisphere, reaching Asia, China, Brazil, Mexico, Cuba and Florida

>You being the boss, you run more than 500 men, the Vito Genovese of all of them

>The money was great, you could send an entire orphanage to college with how much you made

>How much you made.. was the key phrase in the sentence

 

 

>It was a rainy night in Nevada, pouring buckets almost

>You had several bodyguards watching your house, you were just enjoying tea and you were about to head to bed

>Already in pajamas, you tell your guards goodnight and get yourself tucked in

>You get inside the bed, throw over the heavy cover and nod off to sleep

>The storm raged on that night, thundering and clashing like crazy

>It was no wonder your bodyguards couldn't hear them coming

 

(Team Leader of a hit squad)

 

>"Alright, let's move" you whisper through the radio to your 4 teammates

>The orders were pretty simple, kill the bodyguards, grab Anon, take him back to the barn

>You draw your weapon and move on towards the house through the wet brush, you target some of the visible body guards outside the house

>The sniper on your team asks for a target, you give them their locations and almost instantly you seem them drop like flies

>You move to the side of the house

>Two of your teammates cover you as you pick the lock to the back door

>You open it and you clear the corners and regroup with your team in the garage

>You still drizzle water from your suit and your gun from how soaked you are

>Puddles literally form on the concrete floor under you

>You stack up on the door with your team mates and pull out your handgun, a .380 Beretta Cheetah

>Being careful, you quietly open your pouch and pull out a suppressor and attach it onto the weapon

>Your teammates do the same with theirs as well

>You give the go and you quietly clear the home, of any bodyguards

>Blood spills from the last bodyguard you pick right in between the eyes onto the nice carpet

>Mud and rain, mixed with blood is all over the carpets

>Anon must be upstairs, you and your team quietly head up

 

(Back to Anon)

 

 

>You're awoken from things dropping downstairs

>You radio in to one of the bodyguards downstairs, but there's no response

>Your heart sinks down to your balls, you turn over and dig in the dresser for your gun

>Clumsily, you drop the unloaded weapon and pick it back up frantically

>You grab a magazine and quickly load it with the correct caliber

>10 should hopefully do it

>Putting on your fuzzy slippers, weapon loaded, you walk towards the door

>You open it and find several men in black on the other side, one of them reaching for the handle of the same door you just opened

>You shoot the bastard in the head and he drops to the floor

>The other two begin to fire and you back up immediately and take cover

>Listening for the sound of dry fire, an empty magazine, it comes and you turn from cover to fire

>You hit one of the two in the chest twice and get smacked by the butt of a rifle from the other man in black

>The last thing you hear before you lose all consciousness is "Light's out asshole"

 

(2nd Teammate (Now in command))

 

>Your commander was killed, shot in the head

>You quickly press against the wall and fire into Anon's room

>His cover holds firm, and your magazine runs empty

>You signal for your partner to cover you

>And as you pull another magazine out from your vest, you're shot in the chest twice

>The pain burns like nothing else

>You fall down the stairs, and the firing stops

>Painfully, you attempt to sit up and rip open your raid bdu to check the damage

>Two puncture marks, it was definitely a clean it

>No exit wounds however, so possibly a polymer round

>Your teammate brings down Anon, a large purple bruise on the side of his face

>He picks you up and drags you back to the van that swings around out front

>He throws you in with Anon, he climbs in himself and closes the van doors

>You jolt back as the van speeds off, your partner forces you down and applies pressure to the wound sites

>The storm rages on

 

(Back to Anon)

 

>Your head hurts like a motherfucker, you just lay on the ground.. getting up would be worse than the holocaust

>The ground is wet.. but it feels like straw and hay?

>It smells like a barn.. you hear several horses stamping down their hoofs in the straw

>You try to open your eyes, they're blood crusted shut

>Some dried bits of bloods break off and fall into your eye, some roll off

>Your head still bleeding from the smack with the rifle

>Someone grabs the back of your shirt of your PJ's and sits you up

>The pain in your head hurts worse than a beating from Sylvester Stallone himself

>A gun is immediately pointed at your face

>No mercy, the man smacks you across the face with the gun

>One of your teeth fall out of your gums, you just spit it onto the straw

>You look around, you're in a barn with a few people armed with rifles

>None of them look familiar to you

>A man in a suit steps forward, smoking a cigar and several of the men step aside

>The suited man blows smoke in your face, and you stare at him dead in the eyes

>He turns to the side, retorts and swings his leg into your head

>You hear a crunch, the force knocks you onto the ground and the man behind you picks you back up

>"Do not ever look me in the face, I do not like it when people look at me in the face"

>He turns around and walks forward, turns around again and walks in front of you

>"I am Mr. Clap Hands, I will be the one executing you today"

>At least he was honest

>"Your business flows extremely rich throughout the world, but I think it's time a new company steps forward to shine."

>He puts his cigar out on your cheek

>The pain is blood curdling, you hear and feel your skin boil like a pot of water on a hot stove

>He steps back and smirks a little bit

>"How does that feel? Do you feel like a million bucks?"

>He holds out his hand and one of the guards hand him a revolver

>"Well champ, let me ask you something. Are you feeling lucky tonight?"

>He only loads one round.. the odds are pretty good

I guess you could say that

>You lift your head to look at him, his gun nuzzled against your head

>"Well, so do I."

>A loud pop is the last thing you hear, and a small cloud of smoke from the barrel

>You hit the ground, motionless

>Blood pours from your cranium like a river, the men leave you to lay dying in the barn..

>It begins here, our Anon relishes in a new universe