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Cardiguns.
"You Saggy Bastard!" Donovan hisses labouredly, through saliva, blood and a broken jaw.
"You are a very rude boy." Replied Vieira as she forces the mussel of the Walther PPK against Donovans fractured eye socket inflicting a white hot pain which ran through his skull.
Unconsciousness almost takes over Donovan as his wearied focus lands onta balled up tissue in Vieras cardigan.
"F-f-fuck you." He moans as Vieras soft 89 year old hand strokes the brow of the broken man.
" Where is it you naughty boy?"
" Go to Hell!" Screams Donovan as he spits in Veiras unforgiving face.
"You are a bully."
-----
Wendy takes a shiny 50 pence piece from the overjoyed 6 year old girl. Then places the stuffed toy into her eagerly awaiting embrace. It was the last sale of the day and Wendy was glad of it because her old feet were beginning to tire.
The village jumble sale was a great success Veira stated to Fr. Andrew over the phone. She beamed with pride as Fr Andrew praised her for all her hard work.
Veira passed on all of Fr. Andrew's praise to Wendy when she ended the call.
Wendy nodded her head in acceptance of the recognition of her efforts as she gently massaged her feet.
There was only Wendy and Veira left in the village hall that evening. Them and the remaining untidiness of the village hall.
They both would agree to leave it for the morning when they would have some help.
So all that was to be done was for the takings for the day to be put in the safe. So as Wendy nursed her feet Veira did just that. Into the office she went.
When she returned she was met with alarming sight of a young man holding a very large machete against the neck of Wendy.
Tears were streaming down Wendy's trembling face.
The Man had an apathetic look on his face as he turned to see Veira. It was almost as if enjoyed having Wendy under his control.
Veira had seen that look before in her past. And it had filled her with loathing then, and now was no different.
" Listen up you old bitch. I suggest you waddle your arthritic trotters back in to that office and get me that money you'd just had."
Viera raised her hands in a placating manner so not to spook this young gentleman. "Ok Darling don't do anything hasty."
" Hasty? what like slit this stuffy cows throat?" Sneered the man as he jerked the blade closer to Wendy's neck. Putting the fear of of death into Wendy.
"Ok Ok" Viera replied trying to diffuse the situation.
Veira returned as fast she left with the tin of money. She strode up to the man and he was taking a little off guard by the commanding strides Veira took towards him. It was only momentary alarm from the young man but Veira had registered this.
He grabbed the top of the tin with his hand. And with a flash, Veiras hand appeared over the back of his with lightning speed.
The man's eyes widened as he looked down at his now captured hand. The small soft elderly hand of Veiras was missing the little finger. Just below the knuckle. And didn't look like it was lost accidentally. It looked like it was taken under duress.
" There is Twenty Seven pound and fifty two pence there young man. Keep it safe."
The man with the very large machete in his hand had now lost his certainty.
------
Donovan's guttural scream was the only thing that would pierce through the fog that day. Veira played with the blood between her fingers when she removed her crooked digit from the bullet wound in Donovan's shoulder.
"Why did you take the money?" Veira whimsically asked.
" Fucking drugs you Crazy Bitch."
" So you stole from the children to feed your habit. You don't need that filth."
Donovan takes in a laboured breath and looks towards the sky, then looks Veira in the eyes
" I need to be numb, and I can afford for you to hate me. Haven't you ever hated yourself Veira?
The light in Veira's eyes fades momentarily into her past as she ponders Donovan's question.
-----
Veira helps Wendy back to her seat and dabs the blood that has spotted from cut her neck with a tissue.
" Are you going to call the police Vieira?" Wendy asks her in her rattled state. Veira pauses for a moment in thought.
" He's probably a druggy from the YMCA" Added Wendy.
"I will be right back Wendy. Wait there."
Wendy is now confused aswell as mortally flustered.
Veira leaves Wendy, and walks down the rear hallway and kicks open the fire exit. She goes to the boot of her Mustard Nissan Juke. When it opens she flips open the spare tyre cover. Where there should be a spare wheel was a Walther PPK and a Sterling Submachine gun. She pops three magazines in her Cardigan and loads one in the magazine well and slings the weapon. She then slides two PPK clips in her knickers waist band and one in the weapon finishing up by stuffing the PPK in her bra strap.
" Just Popping out Wendy!" Veira announced on the way out of the village hall front door.
"You calling the police, Pet?"
" No I'm going to kill all the fucking drug dealers down at the YMCA."
"Ok darling." Replies Wendy not really knowing what to say to that proclamation of violence.
----
The YMCA had been in squatted for the last 6 months. The manager was an alcoholic called Colin that the new tenants had been taken advantage of. He was now bedded down on a dirty Mattress under a septic tank at the back of property.
There were about 20 drug and alcohol addled tenants positioned in various states of intoxication dotted around the establishment.
Veira being a highly trained British Assassin absorbed the intel of the site intuitively. Within minutes she had developed a sophisticated and delicate plan of attack.
After casually strolling up and shooting the first of the drug dealers in the face. She executed her sophisticated and delicate plan.
She pumped all of the 34 of 9mm bullets in to the occupants of the lower level of the YMCA. Flesh, bone and plaster board scattered over sofas, pool tables and adult learning course materials.
When the dust settled 14 bodies lay still oozing blood shit and piss. Veira sauntered through the rec room assessing the damage.
Her beige slip-on's tredded through the chaos like a Samurai Master. Like a deer through the snow. Until she comes to a stop at the side of a dealer still clinging on to life.
" Where is he?"
It took a good 30 seconds for this unfortunate to draw a breath to speak. His sucking chest wound wheezed and rung on for a time.
" He is up…" The mussel flashed and bullet stopped that sentence. Viera only needed Up as her next lead to follow.
And she followed that lead up the stairs and into the dormitories. Veira tapped open each dormitory door with her beige slip-ons. The doors swing open without a problem until the last door on left with the sign with a disco ball on it.
Veira kicks the door open.
-----
Veira takes a long pull on a Davidoff cigarette. She hold the cigarette awkwardly like a person who doesn't usually smoke. Or hasn't smoked in a very long time. She has now mounted Donovan's chest so not to let him escape.
" Did you not want to change?"
" I could change for a day. But not for two. I'm afraid to change. The fear is always there. But the drugs numbs the fear."
" You poor boy. Now where the fuck is the Money?"
-----
A silent disco is a great thing to asassinate. Apart from the 140 db muzzel blast of the PPK it was almost a meditation gunning down those funny cunts dancing to shit music thought Veira.
Plus, Veira found the tin of money on the top of the dead DJ's decks. But on second look there was only 25 quid in there.
Cue death defying car chase with the man with the machete.
-----
Donovan relinquished the remaining two pound fifty two.
" Much obliged young man."
"I'm Sorry, I'm so sorry." Blubbed Donovan hoping to appeal to Veira's sympathetic side.
So as Veira turned away from Donovan so not to get blood on her makeup as she empty the remaining clip into Donovan's face. It was abundantly obvious to Donovan before he incurred his fatal injuries that Veira didn't have a sympathetic side.
The end.
© Stephen White
"You are a very rude boy." Replied Vieira as she forces the mussel of the Walther PPK against Donovans fractured eye socket inflicting a white hot pain which ran through his skull.
Unconsciousness almost takes over Donovan as his wearied focus lands onta balled up tissue in Vieras cardigan.
"F-f-fuck you." He moans as Vieras soft 89 year old hand strokes the brow of the broken man.
" Where is it you naughty boy?"
" Go to Hell!" Screams Donovan as he spits in Veiras unforgiving face.
"You are a bully."
-----
Wendy takes a shiny 50 pence piece from the overjoyed 6 year old girl. Then places the stuffed toy into her eagerly awaiting embrace. It was the last sale of the day and Wendy was glad of it because her old feet were beginning to tire.
The village jumble sale was a great success Veira stated to Fr. Andrew over the phone. She beamed with pride as Fr Andrew praised her for all her hard work.
Veira passed on all of Fr. Andrew's praise to Wendy when she ended the call.
Wendy nodded her head in acceptance of the recognition of her efforts as she gently massaged her feet.
There was only Wendy and Veira left in the village hall that evening. Them and the remaining untidiness of the village hall.
They both would agree to leave it for the morning when they would have some help.
So all that was to be done was for the takings for the day to be put in the safe. So as Wendy nursed her feet Veira did just that. Into the office she went.
When she returned she was met with alarming sight of a young man holding a very large machete against the neck of Wendy.
Tears were streaming down Wendy's trembling face.
The Man had an apathetic look on his face as he turned to see Veira. It was almost as if enjoyed having Wendy under his control.
Veira had seen that look before in her past. And it had filled her with loathing then, and now was no different.
" Listen up you old bitch. I suggest you waddle your arthritic trotters back in to that office and get me that money you'd just had."
Viera raised her hands in a placating manner so not to spook this young gentleman. "Ok Darling don't do anything hasty."
" Hasty? what like slit this stuffy cows throat?" Sneered the man as he jerked the blade closer to Wendy's neck. Putting the fear of of death into Wendy.
"Ok Ok" Viera replied trying to diffuse the situation.
Veira returned as fast she left with the tin of money. She strode up to the man and he was taking a little off guard by the commanding strides Veira took towards him. It was only momentary alarm from the young man but Veira had registered this.
He grabbed the top of the tin with his hand. And with a flash, Veiras hand appeared over the back of his with lightning speed.
The man's eyes widened as he looked down at his now captured hand. The small soft elderly hand of Veiras was missing the little finger. Just below the knuckle. And didn't look like it was lost accidentally. It looked like it was taken under duress.
" There is Twenty Seven pound and fifty two pence there young man. Keep it safe."
The man with the very large machete in his hand had now lost his certainty.
------
Donovan's guttural scream was the only thing that would pierce through the fog that day. Veira played with the blood between her fingers when she removed her crooked digit from the bullet wound in Donovan's shoulder.
"Why did you take the money?" Veira whimsically asked.
" Fucking drugs you Crazy Bitch."
" So you stole from the children to feed your habit. You don't need that filth."
Donovan takes in a laboured breath and looks towards the sky, then looks Veira in the eyes
" I need to be numb, and I can afford for you to hate me. Haven't you ever hated yourself Veira?
The light in Veira's eyes fades momentarily into her past as she ponders Donovan's question.
-----
Veira helps Wendy back to her seat and dabs the blood that has spotted from cut her neck with a tissue.
" Are you going to call the police Vieira?" Wendy asks her in her rattled state. Veira pauses for a moment in thought.
" He's probably a druggy from the YMCA" Added Wendy.
"I will be right back Wendy. Wait there."
Wendy is now confused aswell as mortally flustered.
Veira leaves Wendy, and walks down the rear hallway and kicks open the fire exit. She goes to the boot of her Mustard Nissan Juke. When it opens she flips open the spare tyre cover. Where there should be a spare wheel was a Walther PPK and a Sterling Submachine gun. She pops three magazines in her Cardigan and loads one in the magazine well and slings the weapon. She then slides two PPK clips in her knickers waist band and one in the weapon finishing up by stuffing the PPK in her bra strap.
" Just Popping out Wendy!" Veira announced on the way out of the village hall front door.
"You calling the police, Pet?"
" No I'm going to kill all the fucking drug dealers down at the YMCA."
"Ok darling." Replies Wendy not really knowing what to say to that proclamation of violence.
----
The YMCA had been in squatted for the last 6 months. The manager was an alcoholic called Colin that the new tenants had been taken advantage of. He was now bedded down on a dirty Mattress under a septic tank at the back of property.
There were about 20 drug and alcohol addled tenants positioned in various states of intoxication dotted around the establishment.
Veira being a highly trained British Assassin absorbed the intel of the site intuitively. Within minutes she had developed a sophisticated and delicate plan of attack.
After casually strolling up and shooting the first of the drug dealers in the face. She executed her sophisticated and delicate plan.
She pumped all of the 34 of 9mm bullets in to the occupants of the lower level of the YMCA. Flesh, bone and plaster board scattered over sofas, pool tables and adult learning course materials.
When the dust settled 14 bodies lay still oozing blood shit and piss. Veira sauntered through the rec room assessing the damage.
Her beige slip-on's tredded through the chaos like a Samurai Master. Like a deer through the snow. Until she comes to a stop at the side of a dealer still clinging on to life.
" Where is he?"
It took a good 30 seconds for this unfortunate to draw a breath to speak. His sucking chest wound wheezed and rung on for a time.
" He is up…" The mussel flashed and bullet stopped that sentence. Viera only needed Up as her next lead to follow.
And she followed that lead up the stairs and into the dormitories. Veira tapped open each dormitory door with her beige slip-ons. The doors swing open without a problem until the last door on left with the sign with a disco ball on it.
Veira kicks the door open.
-----
Veira takes a long pull on a Davidoff cigarette. She hold the cigarette awkwardly like a person who doesn't usually smoke. Or hasn't smoked in a very long time. She has now mounted Donovan's chest so not to let him escape.
" Did you not want to change?"
" I could change for a day. But not for two. I'm afraid to change. The fear is always there. But the drugs numbs the fear."
" You poor boy. Now where the fuck is the Money?"
-----
A silent disco is a great thing to asassinate. Apart from the 140 db muzzel blast of the PPK it was almost a meditation gunning down those funny cunts dancing to shit music thought Veira.
Plus, Veira found the tin of money on the top of the dead DJ's decks. But on second look there was only 25 quid in there.
Cue death defying car chase with the man with the machete.
-----
Donovan relinquished the remaining two pound fifty two.
" Much obliged young man."
"I'm Sorry, I'm so sorry." Blubbed Donovan hoping to appeal to Veira's sympathetic side.
So as Veira turned away from Donovan so not to get blood on her makeup as she empty the remaining clip into Donovan's face. It was abundantly obvious to Donovan before he incurred his fatal injuries that Veira didn't have a sympathetic side.
The end.
© Stephen White
