Post by C. on May 8, 2010 21:16:35 GMT -5
Chapter 1
The Lucky Attendants
The Lucky Attendants
It was summer. The sunlight was both warm and fierce on that hot and humid August day. He sat there in his truck scratching his head in confusion. In his hand, he held a letter from someone he could not remember having met at all.
The letter read:
Dear Mr. Sixteen,
You must be wondering who I am and why I have contacted you in this manner, I mean a simple e-mail or text message would have sufficed, but I, myself, am an old-fashioned man. First off, let me introduce my self. My name is Alfred David Rogers and I was a close friend of your parents. You had attended some of my parties, but were only a baby, so you couldn’t have remembered me. I recently spoke with your parents and decided to invite you over to Dark Island. We must chat a little about your future endeavors, as I am owner of a very prominent lumber industry and would like to take you on as an intern. Until then, bye!
Yours truly,
Alfred David Rogers
Enclosed in the letter was a plane ticket to California. Dark Island was located just off the coast of the state and the plane was to leave the next day. Dark Island ! , he thought. That’s the place that’s been all over the news. It was rumored to be the hideout of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. It’s supposed to house a humongous mansion.
He knew that there was a huge amount of opportunity waiting for him. Everything would be going great for him if this internship came through. If it did, he could later on get a high-paying job there and buy whatever he wanted.
Man, he thought. Just a few years ago I had to deal with those jerks at the office, like Mr. Willis, his boss. But he showed them. He imagined the looks on their faces when they saw the mess he made.
He grinned and proceeded to get out of the McDonald’s parking lot. Sixteen was on his way home. He would pack up, shower and get ready for the adventure that awaited him. Little did he realize there was a black pickup truck following his car as it made its way down the street.
******
Her lips pressed against his and they held each other in a warm embrace. She looked into his eyes, and a frown came across her face. Disappointment was what Pandora felt at this moment. BSam sat there and stared at her quietly waiting for her to speak.
“I really didn't feel any passion in that kiss,” she stated. “I mean, I thought making out with you would give me some rush or something, but it really didn't do much for me.”
BSam just hiccoughed. He had downed a few shots of Jack Daniels before he met up with Pandora. What if she was pmsing again?, he thought. He knew he had to be drunk otherwise the night could turn into a disaster. That worked out perfectly.
“ Listen, I was recently sent a letter by a man who knows my boss. He says he could use a new secretary and he's paying me a lot. This night wasn't what I thought our last night together should be. But I guess it will be. I'm leaving for Dark Island tomorrow. Goodbye.”
Pandora walked out of the room and headed for the door. She began to turn the doorknob when BSam stumbled past her into the kitchen. He picked up a piece of paper and began to read what was on it. Actually, he mumbled it because he was kind of drunk and he didn't really want to keep the girl waiting.
“Dear Mr. Boddy.....drinking talents......lifetime supply of rum.....simple job opportunity...come to Dark Island...” He trailed off and hiccoughed a little more.
“So, you're going there too. I guess we'll be on our way together. Wanna go into the bedroom and fool around some more before we leave tomorrow?” Pandora stared at BSam, smirking.
BSam laughed and passed out on the linoleum. Pandora shook her head and went to his bedroom to get some sleep. She figured that he'd passed out numerous times and in numerous places much worse than his kitchen. He'd be better in the morning. She turned off the light and went to sleep dreaming of Dark Island.
*****
"Isn't it wonderful, Gigi?" Dear Dairy said with exuberant delight. "We are going to be on the most beautiful island ever, and getting paid for it to boot."
Gigi sat on the leather couch in her living room, a cup of coffee in her hand. They had just received their letters not long before addressed from a Mrs. Blatt. Gigi could not remember her, she assumed that Mrs. Blatt had attended one of their booze-soaked, knitting circle parties. She took a few sips before responding.
"Yes. Isn't it great that she needs two maids for her mansion on Dark Island?" Gigi responded brightly. "Maybe we'll see some celebrities."
"I do hope so. When does the plane leave?"
"Let me see here. Oh! It leaves tonight!"
"Well, we have got no time to lose. Get your stuff packed."
"Ok, I'll just have to call my husband and kids. They're at the park."
"Well get a move on sister. And crack open some bourbon. I need to get a little buzzed before a flight."
*****
Tragedy was sweating profusely and was breathing heavily. He had not expected this to be so tiring, since he had done it a few times before. Right now, in this moment, he had never felt so alive. Energy rushed through him, coursed through his veins. He groaned with pleasure and looked into her eyes.
“So, Rachel, was it good for you?” He eyed her intently, expecting a more than enthusiastic positive response. His dancing had never failed him before. He always got into the girl's pants afterward, well at least when he had planned it out in his mind. There was that one time, he thought. Yet she was a little tipsy and she did think I was one of the Jonas Brothers. Rachel was less than enthusiastic.
“That's what you asked me here for?” She spat out angrily. “I could have watched someone do the Single Ladies dance on YouTube and have been more entertained. You dance like you're having a seizure.”
“You do not know anything about the arts!” Tragedy sharply replied. “ I dance just as great as Beyonce! I don't even know why I asked you to watch. I could have gotten some action from anyone else in this country!”
Rachel stood up, grabbed her purse, and was ready to leave until she eyed the open letter on the table. She walked toward it and picked it up before Tragedy could grab it, causing him to topple over. He got back up onto his feet, brushed himself off, and tried to get it back to no avail.
“Is this from one of your floozies?” Rachel asked with a tinge of jealousy in her voice as she studied the letter. Her eyes widened. “I got the same letter. Only this Mr. Clarkson wasn't offering me a dancing internship, but a newsletter editor position.”
“Hm, maybe you'll get to write stories about my fabulous dancing!” Tragedy stated with delight. “We'd better go together. Your bias will fill those stories with filthy libel that I cannot afford. I have to keep my eye on you.”
Surprisingly, the tension decreased in the room afterward, well at least up until Tragedy asked her if she wanted to have a little fun before they went. She kneed him where he would feel it for quite a while and then left, telling him to pack quickly. They were off to the airport two hours later.
*******
The airplanes had promptly arrived in California with no delay at all. The airport was bustling with people: paparazzis frantically trying to trying to get that perfect picture of a celebrity recently coming back from a trip, families back from their summer vacations in Mexico, and even some people coming back from their “business trips” feeling nonetheless depressed that they would soon be back to their miserable lives. Their was a group, separate from all the rest, obviously the 667ers. I mean, the story is about them right?
BSam and Pandora sat next to each other by the bar, having been in the airport for about three minutes. Sam had needed a drink badly. Those small little bottles they give on the plane just didn't do it for him. While he was boozing it up, Pandora sat there, thinking of ways this trip could get any worse. Tragedy and Rachel sat next to each other, not speaking. Both had had a less than pleasant flight, what with the turbulence and the fact that they grew to hate each other even more as the flight had gone on. Gigi and Dear Dairy sat a few seats away, both engrossed in romance novels with Fabio on the cover. All that was heard was “Oh my” occasionally and Dear Dairy dabbed herself with her handkerchief, but that was pretty much it. Sixteen, Shelly, Tino, Willis, Triangle Eyes were among the other 667ers present within the airport, brought there for various reasons in the letters they had received. Does it really matter? The name of the fic is 667 Murder Island, so there will definitely be some murder occurring, of course its a trap. If you didn't realize this before, sorry you are an idiot.
“Will all taking the ship to Dark Island, please head to Gate C for boarding.” A monotone voice sounded over the intercom. The man certainly seemed to enjoy his job if you couldn't tell by the bland tone he had. The 667ers got up and went to the gate. Nobody really payed attention to the fact that all of them had spoken on the forum at one time or another as nobody really posted much nowadays and most were too tired to care.
The ship looked as majestic as a luxurious ocean liner, like the Titanic. There was a staff of 10 on hand with hors d'œuvres and glasses of champagne in hand. Everyone who was of age-cause you know I need to be age-friendly-drank from the flutes and others simply just ate the shrimp toast that was floating around. Once the guests had loosened up, the party started to begin. Everyone began to socialize and speak about such important things as Lady Gaga's most recent outfit, the latest episode of Glee, and Tragedy's cover of Halo. As they left the harbor and headed toward the island, the mood seemed to get even livelier. Nobody noticed the red trail leading from the boat as it left. Little did they know, Edwin Okli had been tied to the propeller under the boat, and was subsequently chopped into pieces once it began to move. The fun was only beginning.
The letter read:
Dear Mr. Sixteen,
You must be wondering who I am and why I have contacted you in this manner, I mean a simple e-mail or text message would have sufficed, but I, myself, am an old-fashioned man. First off, let me introduce my self. My name is Alfred David Rogers and I was a close friend of your parents. You had attended some of my parties, but were only a baby, so you couldn’t have remembered me. I recently spoke with your parents and decided to invite you over to Dark Island. We must chat a little about your future endeavors, as I am owner of a very prominent lumber industry and would like to take you on as an intern. Until then, bye!
Yours truly,
Alfred David Rogers
Enclosed in the letter was a plane ticket to California. Dark Island was located just off the coast of the state and the plane was to leave the next day. Dark Island ! , he thought. That’s the place that’s been all over the news. It was rumored to be the hideout of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. It’s supposed to house a humongous mansion.
He knew that there was a huge amount of opportunity waiting for him. Everything would be going great for him if this internship came through. If it did, he could later on get a high-paying job there and buy whatever he wanted.
Man, he thought. Just a few years ago I had to deal with those jerks at the office, like Mr. Willis, his boss. But he showed them. He imagined the looks on their faces when they saw the mess he made.
He grinned and proceeded to get out of the McDonald’s parking lot. Sixteen was on his way home. He would pack up, shower and get ready for the adventure that awaited him. Little did he realize there was a black pickup truck following his car as it made its way down the street.
******
Her lips pressed against his and they held each other in a warm embrace. She looked into his eyes, and a frown came across her face. Disappointment was what Pandora felt at this moment. BSam sat there and stared at her quietly waiting for her to speak.
“I really didn't feel any passion in that kiss,” she stated. “I mean, I thought making out with you would give me some rush or something, but it really didn't do much for me.”
BSam just hiccoughed. He had downed a few shots of Jack Daniels before he met up with Pandora. What if she was pmsing again?, he thought. He knew he had to be drunk otherwise the night could turn into a disaster. That worked out perfectly.
“ Listen, I was recently sent a letter by a man who knows my boss. He says he could use a new secretary and he's paying me a lot. This night wasn't what I thought our last night together should be. But I guess it will be. I'm leaving for Dark Island tomorrow. Goodbye.”
Pandora walked out of the room and headed for the door. She began to turn the doorknob when BSam stumbled past her into the kitchen. He picked up a piece of paper and began to read what was on it. Actually, he mumbled it because he was kind of drunk and he didn't really want to keep the girl waiting.
“Dear Mr. Boddy.....drinking talents......lifetime supply of rum.....simple job opportunity...come to Dark Island...” He trailed off and hiccoughed a little more.
“So, you're going there too. I guess we'll be on our way together. Wanna go into the bedroom and fool around some more before we leave tomorrow?” Pandora stared at BSam, smirking.
BSam laughed and passed out on the linoleum. Pandora shook her head and went to his bedroom to get some sleep. She figured that he'd passed out numerous times and in numerous places much worse than his kitchen. He'd be better in the morning. She turned off the light and went to sleep dreaming of Dark Island.
*****
"Isn't it wonderful, Gigi?" Dear Dairy said with exuberant delight. "We are going to be on the most beautiful island ever, and getting paid for it to boot."
Gigi sat on the leather couch in her living room, a cup of coffee in her hand. They had just received their letters not long before addressed from a Mrs. Blatt. Gigi could not remember her, she assumed that Mrs. Blatt had attended one of their booze-soaked, knitting circle parties. She took a few sips before responding.
"Yes. Isn't it great that she needs two maids for her mansion on Dark Island?" Gigi responded brightly. "Maybe we'll see some celebrities."
"I do hope so. When does the plane leave?"
"Let me see here. Oh! It leaves tonight!"
"Well, we have got no time to lose. Get your stuff packed."
"Ok, I'll just have to call my husband and kids. They're at the park."
"Well get a move on sister. And crack open some bourbon. I need to get a little buzzed before a flight."
*****
Tragedy was sweating profusely and was breathing heavily. He had not expected this to be so tiring, since he had done it a few times before. Right now, in this moment, he had never felt so alive. Energy rushed through him, coursed through his veins. He groaned with pleasure and looked into her eyes.
“So, Rachel, was it good for you?” He eyed her intently, expecting a more than enthusiastic positive response. His dancing had never failed him before. He always got into the girl's pants afterward, well at least when he had planned it out in his mind. There was that one time, he thought. Yet she was a little tipsy and she did think I was one of the Jonas Brothers. Rachel was less than enthusiastic.
“That's what you asked me here for?” She spat out angrily. “I could have watched someone do the Single Ladies dance on YouTube and have been more entertained. You dance like you're having a seizure.”
“You do not know anything about the arts!” Tragedy sharply replied. “ I dance just as great as Beyonce! I don't even know why I asked you to watch. I could have gotten some action from anyone else in this country!”
Rachel stood up, grabbed her purse, and was ready to leave until she eyed the open letter on the table. She walked toward it and picked it up before Tragedy could grab it, causing him to topple over. He got back up onto his feet, brushed himself off, and tried to get it back to no avail.
“Is this from one of your floozies?” Rachel asked with a tinge of jealousy in her voice as she studied the letter. Her eyes widened. “I got the same letter. Only this Mr. Clarkson wasn't offering me a dancing internship, but a newsletter editor position.”
“Hm, maybe you'll get to write stories about my fabulous dancing!” Tragedy stated with delight. “We'd better go together. Your bias will fill those stories with filthy libel that I cannot afford. I have to keep my eye on you.”
Surprisingly, the tension decreased in the room afterward, well at least up until Tragedy asked her if she wanted to have a little fun before they went. She kneed him where he would feel it for quite a while and then left, telling him to pack quickly. They were off to the airport two hours later.
*******
The airplanes had promptly arrived in California with no delay at all. The airport was bustling with people: paparazzis frantically trying to trying to get that perfect picture of a celebrity recently coming back from a trip, families back from their summer vacations in Mexico, and even some people coming back from their “business trips” feeling nonetheless depressed that they would soon be back to their miserable lives. Their was a group, separate from all the rest, obviously the 667ers. I mean, the story is about them right?
BSam and Pandora sat next to each other by the bar, having been in the airport for about three minutes. Sam had needed a drink badly. Those small little bottles they give on the plane just didn't do it for him. While he was boozing it up, Pandora sat there, thinking of ways this trip could get any worse. Tragedy and Rachel sat next to each other, not speaking. Both had had a less than pleasant flight, what with the turbulence and the fact that they grew to hate each other even more as the flight had gone on. Gigi and Dear Dairy sat a few seats away, both engrossed in romance novels with Fabio on the cover. All that was heard was “Oh my” occasionally and Dear Dairy dabbed herself with her handkerchief, but that was pretty much it. Sixteen, Shelly, Tino, Willis, Triangle Eyes were among the other 667ers present within the airport, brought there for various reasons in the letters they had received. Does it really matter? The name of the fic is 667 Murder Island, so there will definitely be some murder occurring, of course its a trap. If you didn't realize this before, sorry you are an idiot.
“Will all taking the ship to Dark Island, please head to Gate C for boarding.” A monotone voice sounded over the intercom. The man certainly seemed to enjoy his job if you couldn't tell by the bland tone he had. The 667ers got up and went to the gate. Nobody really payed attention to the fact that all of them had spoken on the forum at one time or another as nobody really posted much nowadays and most were too tired to care.
The ship looked as majestic as a luxurious ocean liner, like the Titanic. There was a staff of 10 on hand with hors d'œuvres and glasses of champagne in hand. Everyone who was of age-cause you know I need to be age-friendly-drank from the flutes and others simply just ate the shrimp toast that was floating around. Once the guests had loosened up, the party started to begin. Everyone began to socialize and speak about such important things as Lady Gaga's most recent outfit, the latest episode of Glee, and Tragedy's cover of Halo. As they left the harbor and headed toward the island, the mood seemed to get even livelier. Nobody noticed the red trail leading from the boat as it left. Little did they know, Edwin Okli had been tied to the propeller under the boat, and was subsequently chopped into pieces once it began to move. The fun was only beginning.