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M.S.R.P. II • View topic - A Vendetta

M.S.R.P. II

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 Post subject: A Vendetta
PostPosted: Wed Mar 29, 2006 5:31 pm 
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[font=Times New Roman, serif]Cristoforo stood looking out the window of a small apartment, his body bare as he watched a few cars drive by. A towel was wrapped around his waist as he thought about the previous day, the actions that had occurred, and the ending. After he had ran away with the thirty thousand dollars from the underground gambling den, he had walked towards another part of town, deciding that a movie would be a good alibi along with a second dinner maybe. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do. All that he did know was that he had needed a way to escape from the scene of the crime without actually getting caught. He had not gone home like he knew he probably should have, but instead, he stayed out. Why he didn’t go home was a very simple response: He didn’t want to risk bringing the police or enemy Benevantano soldiers coming to the house, finding where he lived and then risking his sister. He knew that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but he didn’t want to take any chances when it came to her safety. He glanced back towards the bed and saw a woman lying there gloriously naked, her breasts full, stomach trim, legs toned and body overall one that most women would desire to have. Marie and he had been together for a year and a half and knew that they loved each other. They had celebrated the reward from the night’s reward, all thirty thousand dollars. Now, he stood there in his girlfriend’s apartment, looking out the window after a fresh shower.

As he was looking out the window, something caught his eye. Two cars, the same color as the ones from yesterday came to a stop across the street from the apartment and he watched as the same men stepped out. Cristoforo’s eyes opened wider then and he immediately went to get his two pistols. “Marie, get up and get dressed!” he yelled then and began to get dressed, pulling on a pair of new pants and a button down shirt, his hand sliding one of the pistols into the belt of his pants. When he looked back outside, he could not see any of the Benevantano soldiers, however he could see the cars were still there. “They are attacking,” he said to himself and then looked over as his girlfriend stood there in the pale flowery dress that she had worn the night before. She had simply thrown it over a chair when Cristoforo had come in, wanting nothing more than to make love to him. However, that was something that could be discussed at a different time. Cristoforo moved towards the front door and then pulled it open. He looked out both ways and then dragged Marie out and down the hall towards the steps. He opened the door to the steps and that’s when all time came to a halt.

Cristoforo looked at the two men standing there with rifles in their hands, aimed at Cristoforo and Marie. Cristoforo did the only thing he could think of: he pulled Marie back, trying to get them both out of the stairwell before the rifles could go off. He wasn’t fast enough. The rifles went off, each one getting a shot before Cristoforo got behind the wall. He breathed heavily and then let go of his girlfriend’s hand, worried more about killing the enemy rather than comforting her. He moved around the corner and fired shots from his pistol off, slamming them into the bodies of the attackers, two shots into each man’s chest. When they fell, he finally returned his attention to Marie to make sure that she was not freaking out over the current attack. What he saw would scar him for an extremely long time. He looked down and saw the blood leaking out of the woman’s chest, her eyes shut, her face pale, her body dead. In the process of trying to get her out of the way, she had actually been shot. He looked at Marie for a moment and fell to his knees. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers for a moment and closed his eyes, tears forming in his eyes. He loved her and now he had lost her…He had been robbed of one of the two women in the world that he loved. He kissed her once more and stood, his sight blurred by the wetness of his tears. He checked his magazine to check for how much ammo he had and then moved back into his apartment. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, the one with the thirty thousand dollars and then began to run down the steps. He raised his pistol when one of the soldiers turned the corner and shot a bullet straight into his skull. Three down, he thought, any number of them left. He didn’t really know how many soldiers there were attacking him. All that he did know was that he was going to murder every last one of them for the murder of his girlfriend, his lover and the woman that he had actually thought of marrying.

He got to the bottom floor and watched as two men were stepping into the elevator to take it up. He pulled out his second pistol as he fired his first and unleashed eight bullets into the elevator, watching the two men drop. He was empty in one gun, half empty in the other and still vowing for revenge, his own personal vendetta. He pulled another magazine from his backpack and slammed it into his empty pistol before he continued on searching for any last soldiers. He glanced out the window and saw two men running towards the building, obviously the men that were responsible for driving the cars. He turned and when the door opened, he began to release bullets into their faces and stomachs and chests. Finally, they dropped dead and he let out a small sigh, realizing that the threat was finally done. He changed magazines for his pistols and then ran out towards the cars. He grabbed a set of keys from the ground and ran for the Mercedes that was parked there, obviously the transportation for the attacking soldiers. He got into the car and immediately sped off down the road, turning about four seconds before the cops came to a halt in front of the apartment building to go in search for the killer. Once again, he had escaped from the battle.

Cristoforo knew of a business that was extorted by the Benevantano Family. Cristoforo now had a personal vendetta against the family and would do anything and everything in his power to remove them from Sicily entirely. He would kill them, murder them, slaughter them and ensure that there was no chance for their survival. As he was driving in his black E500 Mercedes Benz car, he came to the conclusion that the only way to destroy the family was the suck their profits away. Waging a war against their foot soldiers would only result in his death; there were only so many men he could kill before they cornered him in and murdered him. He knew that if he was going to survive, he would need to drain them of their revenue so the soldiers would begin to desert. Slowly draining a crew’s moral made attacking them much easier because they did not have the confidence in their victory. He knew that if he could start profiting from the business of the Benevantano Family, then he would win the war. He also knew that the Depaolo Family would appreciate what he was doing and probably offer their protection for him. It would take some time, but the Benevantano Family would be destroyed.

Cristoforo came to a stop across the street from where the restaurant was and nodded his head. Downstairs was a restaurant, however upstairs, there was the brothel where the most money was made. On any given day, the business brought in about fifty thousand dollars. That meant that it brought in three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in a week. He was simply going to take a seventh of that by taking away one of their days of payment. Cristoforo checked his pistols and when he was sure that they each had a full magazine, he stepped out of the car. He was still extremely angry so he knew that he would murder any man that got in his way. He walked towards the restaurant, his pistols under his shirt in his waist band and let out a sigh. I will avenge you, Marie, he thought to himself and walked into the restaurant. “I want to talk to the owner,” he said to the hostess. She nodded and walked to go get him. When she returned, she nodded her head and escorted him towards the back. “Right through that door, sir,” she said to him and then watched as Cristoforo walked into the room. Cristoforo closed the door after him and looked at the restaurant owner/pimp. So this is the man that is going to help me grow my own power, he thought and nodded his head. Perfect…

“Can I help you?” the man asked Cristoforo. “Yes…I believe you can,” he said and walked towards the pimp. “I want to take control of what ever the Benevantano Family has here and that is why I am here…You are going to pay me now, not Benevantano. If you deny me my money, I will murder your hostess and leave the gun in your hand, you being the one responsible,” he said. The man stood and reached for a knife. Cristoforo pulled out his pistol and pulled the hammer back, the gun aimed right at the man’s head. “I don’t suggest it,” he said to the man and then walked towards him. He took the knife and slid it into his pocket before he hit the man in the head with the butt of his pistol. “Because of your stupid moves, I am now going to take one hundred thousand dollars this week and one hundred after every time from now on…Get me the money…Now!” he barked angrily, his eyes breathing death. It was obvious that he would kill the man if he did not do what he wanted. The owner walked to a safe and undid it. He began to fill the bag with the money and once it was full, he handed it to Critsoforo. The murderer slung the bag over his shoulder and then nodded his head. “I will see you in one week for the one hundred thousand dollars…You better have it,” he warned and then walked right out, sliding the pistols under his shirt again so no one could see it.

He walked out to his car and unlocked the door. He threw the bag into the trunk and then slid into the front seat. He felt the knife in his pocket and smirked before he started the car and put the car into drive. He sped off down the road, driving down it towards where ever. He didn’t have a girlfriend to go see to celebrate and once again, he didn’t want to go see his sister in fear of the Benevantano attacking there. So, he just drove to a park and parked in a secluded area to just stay away from the problems. He let out a gentle sigh and closed his eyes. “I will avenge you, Marie…Every last Benevantano soldier will die,” he said and mumbled there for a few moments. Finally, he drove off to go get something to eat and to plan his next job. Benevantano…You’re dead, he thought.

~Done~

What I Want:

The Car Mentioned
The Knife
$100,000
The ability to collect $100,000 a week from the restaurant/brothel. [/font]


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Wed Mar 29, 2006 9:35 pm 
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Joined: Sun Feb 12, 2006 7:43 pm
Posts: 270
What I Want:

The Car Mentioned APPROVED
The Knife APPROVED
$100,000 APPROVED
The ability to collect $100,000 a week from the restaurant/brothel. APPROVED

You get the vehicle, the knife and $100k. You can extort the business each week for $100k - you must roleplay this out of course, mwwhhuaaa.

This seems rather familiar, *cough*Godfather*cough*.

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