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by Ezikyo Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Supernatural · #2135247
Is it chance? ~ °°°° Or is it fate...
Chapter 1 ~ Hung out to dry...

Living in danger is the ultimate adventure, while the peace of death is the final embrace that awaits for every person who has truly lived... ~

°°°


A snowstorm was brewing outside while he stood before the large window overlooking the bright, luminous world below that rivaled the starry night sky up above. Winter was on its way since the windows were beginning to freeze over with frost along its edges day by day.

Times like these made him wish he could share it with someone alongside a warm fire and a cup of wine but that was just near impossible since he lived in dark times. He couldn't trust anyone or hold anyone close. Not even his own dear family that he'd pushed away in fear of them getting harmed due to his dark past.

Time and time again he'd been forced to change his name, identity, and whole lifestyle in general. He never stayed in one place for more than a decade or so. Years of running and hiding were taking its toll making him overly cautious and a recluse from the public eye, just waiting for death to come knocking at his door. He was sick and tired of it.

When will it end, he thought as he returned to his office chair only to bury his face in his hands. The very hands that would harm or kill without a moments notice. Being a former hit man tended to attract unwanted attention and enemies seeking vengeance.

He was about to rise out of his chair to gather his coat and return home for the night when the door burst open suddenly with a bang. He fell back against his chair when he felt something pierce his chest. He spat out blood as he bent his head to peer at three bullet wounds lodged in his chest.

By damn, just my luck to be shot in my own office, he thought with a strained chuckle as he struggled to breath past the blood filling his lungs.

He had trouble sitting up as three men barged into his office with silenced pistols and a large 'bag of goodies'. He could already imagine what lay within its contents.

He peered up to see a man in a pinstripe suit, hair slicked back and all whilst smoking a Cuban cigar. His past had finally caught up to him after all.

About damn time, he thought as the fiend walked all high and mighty towards him along with two behemoths trailing behind

Time to finally settle old scores.

It was hard to see the stranger's face since his vision was strained and the only thing lighting this room was a dimly lit lamp at the edge of his desk.

"Hello sunny boy, miss me much? Twenty damn long years and no phone call. That hurts, but not as much as those bullet wounds you have there. Hurts don't it?" The man said with a gruff laugh.

That voice, he hadn't heard that dreadful voice in a long while but right now it seemed like yesterday that he'd shot dead and robbed blind the very same bastard standing before him. Andrew Vaughn.

Should've made sure I'd killed the dirty snake when I had the chance, he though helplessly.

"You know, you should've made sure the bullet you shot me with had actually killed me," Andrew said.

Bastard read my mind, he thought with a smirk.

"Missed my heart by an inch but it didn't slow me down none, no sir. It just fueled my need to find you; string you up like the dirty swine you are, while I beat you senseless till you coughed up the pending debt you owe to me."

The man stopped near the glass desk and slammed his palms on the hard glass making everything on it jump and rattle around. The man reached up to run his hand through his hair with a sigh.

"So, what do you go by now, hmm," Andrew said as he picked up a nameplate to peer at it till he let it drop on the ground.

"CEO, Ezra Miles, what a laugh. Well Mr. Miles, I hope you enjoyed these last twenty years as much as I because your sorry ass is going to be sleeping with the fishes tonight." He said with another laugh.

Andrew removed his cigar to blow smoke into Ezra's face making him grimace and cough as the fumes made it hard to breath past. He hacked until he started to cough up blood. Ezra finally fell back onto his chair with a grunt right after his fit.

"By damn, you haven't aged a day. Time has favored you well I see. You really are one lucky bastard but your luck just ran out son. Took me a while to track you down. I looked high and low, far and wide. You really are a hard man to find. Had to bust a couple of heads along the way but it all worked out for the best." Andrew said as he sat down in one of the guest chairs.

"Boys, will you be so bold as to help the dead man sit up before he falls off his seat," Andrew order after noticing that Ezra was slouching off his chair.

"So, let's get down to business shall we," he said removing his coat and peering around, "Nice place you got set up here by the way, fit for a thieving bastard such as you. The life of a thieving king or should I say CEO of Frost Enterprise."

Andrew paused as he took the silver briefcase that one of his goons was holding. He unlocked it and placed it on the table only to reveal a laptop with a wire transfer account set up on its display.

"Alright then enough small talk, Ezra I came here for a simple answer and to let bygones be bygones. Now I'ma ask you nicely, hand over the bank codes to your account. If you don't comply then my men will have to force it out of you. Now you don't want that, no one does. So be a good boy and tell me."

Ezra responded in kind with a wicked bloody grin followed by a daring example of not giving a damn, after he spat a glob of blood at the man.

"Nice choice of words," the man said unfazed as he wiped the blood from his face, "wrong answer though. I expected better from you but you always were a stubborn bastard."

The man snapped his fingers just as his men roughly lifted Ezra from his chair. They dragged him to the corner of the room where he had a punching bag and some exercise equipment.

One of the behemoths reach for some rope from the gym bag they'd brought and then unhooked the punching bag. They easily ripped the clothes from his body leaving him as bare as the day he was born and bound his hands together and tethered them to the hook.

Ezra dangled helplessly, his toes barely touching the ground. What a mess things turned out to be. Here he was a bloody, sweaty heap hung up to dry. If only he'd left sooner, he could've been at home sleeping the night away before the sun rose. He really wasn't a morning person.

"Care for a smoke," Andrew said while he stood up and walked over to Ezra while pulling out a wallet lined with Cuban cigars.

Ezra craned his neck to pluck one out just as Andrew flipped open a lighter to light the cigar. He didn't light it at first but rather moved the flame in front of Ezra's face taunting him. They stared at one another menacingly after he finally lit the cig.
Ezra wasn't really a fan of smoking. Such a bad habit. Bad for your health but right now he really needed it as an excuse to have something to bite down on for what came next.

Ezra hissed in pain after Andrew pressed his cigar against one of the bullet holes. He ground his teeth on the cigar almost biting through it. The sizzling smell of burnt skin almost made him gag as he tried to catch his breath.

Andrew stepped away to sit on a chair that was placed for him to watch from.

"Are you ready to talk now?" he paused to take a glass of whiskey from one of his goons. He took a good swig before he continued. "No? Well not to worry I have all the time in the world. In the mean time, why don't we listen to some tunes to pass the time."

One of the goons handed Andrew a remote he'd found near the stereo. The man flipped through the stations till he stopped on a particular song that Ezra had often listened to when he had the blues.

Ezra listened as the King said, "I'd like to sing a song that's-ah, one of my favorites. It's called My Way..."

"Nothing beats listening to the King on an occasion such as this. Such bliss. Well, I'll just sit here and watch while the boys have a little fun with their new punching bag."

Andrew sat and watched while one goon rummaged inside the gym bag again whilst the other, who was most likely a trained boxer, stretched and jabbed the air to prepare for the beating Ezra was gonna receive.

The two men stood before their victim with a bat in hand and brass knuckles. The first couple of knock out punches and home runs they gave Ezra would've made any grown man squeal his head off but not him. Well at least for the time being. Ezra wasn't normal like any other guy, no he was complicated in a way. Sooner or later though his strength would give along with his spirit. This just wasn't his day.

"Enough boys, give the man a breather. Now stand aside so's I can get a good look at him." The men stepped aside for their boss.

"Well, my oh my, they did a good number on you. Nice work boys, what I see here can end up at an art gallery. Such artistry at its finest. It's just beyond words."

Andrew was right about one thing, what the goons did to Ezra was beyond words. Ezra was a beaten pulp of bumps and bruises, gashes and cuts here and there riddle his whole torso along with his face. There wasn't a single spot left unscathed. Head to toe he was battered and covered in bloody sweat but still he held his head up high. He wasn't planning on letting them have the last laugh anytime soon.

Ezra peered up at Andrew with his one good eye only to flash him a weak crooked grin with his cigar still in between his lips. He taunted the men further with a hoarse chuckle receiving a couple of more beatings in return.

Andrew sat unfazed by his foolish display and instead tipped his glass in salute as he took a sip of more whiskey.

Ezra was at his limit by now and was thankful that the men were growing tired since their efforts were becoming labored by the minute. The tired men stopped to catch their breath as they stood back for their boss to see.

The man sighed, "You know, I always liked you deep down, almost like a son. Damn, you had guts and nads of steel. You see boys it's just hard to kill the bastard. He can take a beating from yous two and three rounds of lead to the chest, and still he can raise his head with a grin and a good'ol laugh. That's why I hired him as a hit man back in the good old days. By damn he had potential but he just blew it all away for some girl."

Andrew stopped to rub his temples to ease the building tension there. "Tie him down will you and bring him his chair to sit on for we can talk some more."

Ezra collapsed on the ground a crumpled heap unable to stand on his numb unsteady legs after he was cut loose. One goon laughed as he harshley dragged Ezra by one arm, almost yanking it from its socket. He was held up right for a moment before he was thrust back onto his chair forcefully.

Ezra slumped in his seat, till he forced himself to sit upright with little effort. He sat awkwardly while he cracked his sore neck to loosen the knots. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles to prove to them that he was unfazed. He hurt like hell but not as much as the hurt he was gonna inflict on these poor men once he had the chance.

Ezra spat a glob of blood onto the ground before he sighed and finally said hoarsely, "Care to light my cigar it fizzled out whilst I was working out just now."

Andrew tossed his golden lighter at him without a second thought as it landed on Ezra's lap. He had trouble flicking the lighter as he fumbled with it unable to get it going. He finally lit the cigar after a couple attempts and just sat there legs crossed at the ankles with the lighter in hand.

"Whew. Wowsers. Let me just say to you fellas, good show ay," Ezra said with a slow mocking clap. "I didn't even break a sweat, argh, just a couple of bones and a chipped tooth." He said flashing a bloody grin.

"Would you be so kind Andy and offer me some of that poison you're drinking to clear my whistle." Ezra said hoarsely. "Ugh, it's a little dry."

"Sure, why not. A last toast for a dead man. Enjoy it while you still can."

One of the men moved to the bar to fetch a glass of whiskey as promised. Ezra took the glass to take a sip only to pause with a frown.

"What no ice, damn you're killing me here. Can't get decent service around here these days, dammit. The waiters here are fuk'n useless and the host is a total ass--" He never finished what he was about to say before one of the men punched him across the jaw.

"Ouch, now that tingled. Take it easy boy you might pull a muscle." Ezra said before he received a punch to the gut.

Ezra hunched over with a grunt till he slumped back with a laugh, "Nice going, champ, you made me spill my drink you brute. Now can you be a good sport and fuk'n serve me another. Please. For fuk's sake." The goon grabbed him by the shoulder ready to punch him again. "Easy, easy champ. Enough with the punches. I did ask nicely, is a simple damn please not good enough for you."

The man growl as he snatched the glass from his hand.

"And don't forget the ice this time, 'ay sport."

Once he had his glass in hand with ice, Ezra gulped down half of it with a sigh after he cleared his throat.

"Now that introductions are over, what can I do you fine fellas for?"

"Oh, the usual business. For starters cheers." Andrew mildly responded as they both tipped their glasses at one another and drank from their glasses.

"Ahh, well now. Where was I, oh yes. I want you to tell me once more. Where. Is. My. Bloody. Money. My patience with you is growing thin. Clown about all you want but remember son I can torture you some more or cut you up till there's nothing left for your sweet mum to recognize. Or I can just simply toss you out the window for all I care to save me all the trouble. Either way it's your grave your gonna be digging tonight. So be wise with what you say next."

"Don't forget to add your most prized possession to that list plus collateral." Ezra added just to make things more interesting.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that. Thanks for reminding me."

Without a second thought he stood and smacked Ezra across the face with the back of his hand.

"And that's for taking it what doesn't belong to you in the first place. Now stop fuking about and tell me what I need to know."

"Alright, fine you got me, I'll talk but your gonna have to come closer so you can hear me clearly. Don't worry I won't bite." Ezra joked with a sly grin.

Andrew walked over to Ezra's side cautiously. He bent close enough to hear while keeping eye contact. The goons instantly held Ezra down by his shoulders and arms.

Hmph, as if these bozos can hold me at bay. Better count your stars boys, cuz you've got another thing coming.

"I only got two words for you. Go fuk yourself!!!" Ezra said before he grabbed and bashed Andrew's face in with his forehead.

He easily broke loose and turned to one of the goons in order to jab his cigar into the bastard's eye. The goon fell against Ezra's office table crying his lungs out and cursing at Ezra .

Ezra then threw his empty glass at the other goon with enough force that it shattered in his face killing him instantly on impact.

In a flash Ezra grabbed the other goon before he had the chance to recover and opened his jaws to tear into the man's juggler with utter rage and bloodlust. Ezra grunted in pain as the three bullets slipped out of his chest in order to let him heal.

The goon yelled and punched at Ezra up until he finally stopped struggling and sagged in his arms. Ezra pulled back unwilling to end the man's life just yet. He just stood there eyeing his prey with a smirk just as he remove a pistol from within the goon's coat.

Without a second thought Ezra turned and tossed the man with all his might towards the large bay window. The man squealed when the window gave way as he plummeted, shattered glass and all, eighty floors towards the awaiting pavement far below.

Ezra stiffened while facing the dark winter sky, as he heard Andrew cackle behind him. He peered over his shoulder at his foe and the revolver that was pointed straight at him.

"Thought you were slick, huh, you filthy animal. By damn, you fuk'n broke my nose...Oh, well. Guess I have to do all the dirty work here seeing as how you've single handedly disposed of my men. As expected of you. Nice work my boy. Bravo," he slowly clapped, "Brav-fuk'n-oh my friend. But the show ends here with you dead, you see your no good to me alive. You're just too much trouble. Now I'ma tell yous one last damn time, tell me the fuk'n bank codes!!!"

Ezra just stood there puffing out clouds of vapor into the night all nonchalant-like. He shut his eyes for a bit to listen to the music playing in the background.

"Well, Andy. Today's not my day, no sir. I'm in desperate need of a nice shower, a warm bed to catch some z's, and a good'ol cup of Joe to start my day next morning but I know this isn't gonna end well for the both of us. So I'll say it. Once. More. Fuk you and all of kingdom come!" Ezra said with a snarl as he turned to fire the pistol he'd nabbed from the man he'd tossed out the window.

They traded rounds, both not caring to take cover as they released round after round. The sound of gunfire drowning out all noise. The smell of fresh blood and gun powder hung in the air.

Andrew was the first to finally collapse on the ground riddled with bullets, while Ezra just stood there swooning, mind blank as he looked down at the new set of bullet wounds that lay lodged in his torso.

Ezra smiled as he listened to the music playing just as the King cried out, "The record shows I took the blows. And did it, my way!!!"

He extended his arm as if to reach for something, eyes growing heavy. The only thought before he fell backwards over the edge was, 'Mirah, forgive me...'

Freefall. It's a liberating sensation. It's like a plane crash, though. A few minutes waiting to hit the ground can feel like a lifetime. Awful feeling. Being totally helpless, having no control. That's how most people spend their lives. Slaves to the tyranny of society. Of fear. Of life itself. This is a dog eat dog world. Everyone's just trying desperately to nab a bite of the scraps left for the taking. No one's safe in this small existence we call life, even the mighty shall fall if not careful. Sadly the out come is all the same for all mortals and creatures that lurk in the shadows, that everything has its own inevitable end.

Time seemed to crawl at a snails pace as Ezra plummeted helplessly towards the awaiting pavement below. He managed to turn in the air to face the world below, as the ground slowly grew closer. The man hoped to see his very life flash before his very eyes but to no avail instead he went numb and limp as the forces of gravity took its course. His vision began to falter as he stared at the rushing lights below and around him that seemed to elongate towards the sky like a vacuum, until everything finally flashed a piercing white.

○○○
●●


He never made it to the ground below as he slammed against a protruding flag pole that was bolted to the side of the skyscraper.

Miles snapped his head up with a long gasp of air, after his heart kick started once again, until he sagged like a towel left out to dry. The man was bent at the waist with his arms and legs hanging helplessly.

He blinked his eyes open with a grimace as he stared at the bright streets below. He struggled to peer over his shoulder at the sky aware that he'd fallen a good distance.

Just my luck. I'm just about to fall to my death, but here I am. Am I not worthy of a good rest. I know I've sinned beyond compare, but God cut me some slack here... By damn, if I make it out of this in one-piece, I'm taking a vacation. Screw work, he grumbled under his breath while staring at the shining world below.

Ezra suddenly drew his unsteady gaze to the window beside him after some lights flickered on inside. A woman was walking into the room with a box full of files, unaware of his presence. He arched up a bit and slid sideways on his belly towards the window, while being careful not to cause further damage to his newly broken ribs.

Once close enough he had trouble focusing on what he was about to do when he began to lose his focus, his eyes grew heavy again. He tried desperately to fight back the darkness that was trying to take hold of him. He did the only thing he could muster as he pounded his head against the hard glass in the hopes that she could hopefully hear him and drag him inside.

Damn, today's such a fine day to die trying, he thought as he raised a bloody hand to the window.
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