Snapshot

This story, it's characters, and the places in it are all fictional. Any resemblence to a person or place, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1

Michael Renner watched as the President of the United States began to walk down the steps of the white marble building he had been inside of, a crowd of people surrounding the red velvet carpet that are drapped ontop of the steps. He was far away though, from a distance, he eyed the President through his lens, watching his every move, placing the crosshairs over the president. Right at the steps he had a clear shot, and he took it. He readied his aim, bit his lip, and fired.

click click click click click

The shutter of his high speed camera dilated rapidly, each one quickly followed with a flash from the camera's light. He smiled at another mission successful, a perfect set of pictures of the President leaving his speech, another paycheck from the Washington Daily Newspaper for them. He let go of his camera, it falling to his chest, the brown leather strap wrapped over the back of his neck. His emerald green eyes scanned the horizon of the city's landscape, the air was crisp and cool to the touch of his skin, and he felt, atleast, it couldn't hurt to take a quick stroll before returning to his apartment and develop the pictures. He began his descent down the sidewalk, passing by the various store windows that lined the streets road, giving writen false promises of quality used furniture and televisions, barely functional washer and dryers being sold at discount prices to those unlucky saps that happen to enter into the cages of the sly salesmen.

Michael had gotten further and further away from the building the President was at, so far down the roads that it seemed like a small dot to his eyes. Ofcourse, even so far away, those government cars still lined the streets, they were easy to spot, they were twisted and cold, almost evil. all black sedans ghosted with no license plates on the back or the front bumpers, headlights tilted into a downward angle that gave a menacing stare to the front of these cars. They were heartless, black, and gave a chill down ones spine, yeah, it fit the government perfectly. It was in the corner of his eye that he spotted some movement in an alleyway between a used TV store and "Honest Larry's Pawn shop." The alleyway was dank, its sides filled with litter and overfilled dumpsters, puddles of water on the ground in random places. He could see two figures at the end of the alleyway, he squinted, but could barely make them out. His hands almost instinctively grasped upon his zoomable camera, a sortof personal swiss army knife of his, a tool of many functions, in this case, it was to be his impromptu binoculars. His eye peered through the lens, left index finger slowly moving the wheel that zoomed the camera in. It was there he saw the two figures more clearly: a slightly tall, skinny man. Frail looking from age, many wrinkles formed upon his face, and a white long goatee upon his chin. drapped over him appeared to be a much weighted dark brown leather overcoat, a matching leather hat on his head. The old man was giving to another man a manilla envelope. The recipiant was a bit younger then the old man. He was middle age, salt and petter hair that was receeding backwards, enlarging his forehead. The man was wearing a black business suit, red and dark blue striped tie. Michael bit his lip as he tensly watched the two discuss things that were not audible from his position. He zoomed in a bit closer, trying to make out what was written on the envelope.

"Pegesas XI"

He zoomed out further to watch the men again, his hands tensing theyre grip on the camera.

Click

The two men both we're startled by a flash from the bulb of the camera, his tensing of grip had inadvertantly put too much pressure on the cameras button. Before Michael could see how they would respond, he already dropped his camera down to his chest once more, and scattered off, heading further down the street and into a random electronics store to catch his breath...




[edit on 1-26-2005 by WolfofWar]

Michaels heart pounded in his chest, its thumping echoed into his head. Adrenaline had surged through his body, the whole rush of being caught in a sense was exhilirating, like being caught smoking in the back of the high school schoolyard, or spotted egging someones house during mishief night. He took a moment to collect himself, his eyes peered upon the used appliances that lined the shelves of the run down little store, brightly lit by flourescent lights. After collecting himself, he walked out of the store, and went down the street farther. Michael had caught something in the corner of his eye: one of the tagless black sedans. It had been crawling slowly behind him, in a brief period of paranoid thought, he felt like he was being followed by them. He had laughed to himself in his head for even having such thoughts. Rational thought dictated that obviously the sedan was patrolling the area, after all the president was nearby, and with the current affairs in the world, you couldnt be too safe.

He turned around the corner of the street, his hand fumbled through some clutter within his light spring coat's pocket, a small set of keys the goal. He brought them out, walking to his car. It was a small white Coupe, old, 95 model, scrapes here and there on the sides, and a small tend in the back bumper from a bad parking incident. The key slid into the door with a firm click, with a turn of the key the door unlocked, and he plumpeted himself exhaustedly upon the beige seat. He closed the door and started the car up, adjusting his rear view mirror and drove off to his apartment. He glanced up occasional at the mirror, noticing the tagless black sedan behind him, that paranoid flicker within his mind flaired up again, he found it almost humourous that he even felt such an emotion even briefly. Eventually he got to his apartment, a small red brick one, a set of similar looking apartments all on a slight inclined hill. Michael got out of his car, slamming the door shut behind him before walking up to his door, fumbling with his keys to get inside, the firm clink within the door's dead bolt told him that he had unlocked the stirdy red stained wood door. He walked inside, throwing his keys into a small empty tray on his endtable. He spun slowly around to lock the door, a twist of the little knob of the dead bolt gave a satisfying click, and for adding protection, a sliding bolt lock was then placed into its locked position, after all, one couldn't be too safe. It had become a ritual for him to lock it this way, even though the crime in his area had gone down in the past few years.

Kicking his shoes off haphazardly in any which direction, he walked on the soft plush red carpeting of his livingroom into his kitchen. He pressed the play message of his answering machine, listening to it as he examined the contents of his fridge, a half gallon of 1% milk, almost empty, some opened containers of chinese food that were most likely in there since the Chow Dynasty, and some beer, actually, alot of beer, a whole shelf of it.

"You have two new messages"

The autonousmous answering machine told him, as if he couldnt read the flashing red "2" written on the answering machine.

" Mr. Renner, this is Carol Jacobs, secretary to Mr. Howel of Washington Daily Outlet. Mr. Howel would like to inform you that he would like the pictures within three business days time, if this will be a problem, please call him at 555...."

Beep--it had been cut off.

"Mike, its Sarah, just wanted to remind you about our plans this weekend..."

"...what plans?"

Michael murmered to himself in a rebuttled of his answering machine message.

"....I hope you remembered, you promised we'd head up to maine to visit my parents. Anyways, call me when you get a chance, love you, bye."

"shi...."

Michael murmered to himself again. Exhaling a tired sigh, he sluggishly walked past the kitchen and down the hallway, into his bedroom. He took off his camera from around his neck and popped out the roll of film, opening up the top drawer of his dresser and threw it inside with the other rolls he had yet to develop, five in total, including the one he threw in. He fell back onto his bed, staring up at his off white ceiling before slowly closing his eyes, drifting away...

Turning out to be an interesting read WolfofWar.

Keep it going!

Chapter 2

He woke up at eight in the morning, like everyday, to the obnoxious beeping of his alarm clock. With a tired hand slamming down upon the small alarm, he had started his day. The same routine, every day, it was some autonomous he rarely even thought he was even doing it while he did it. Take a shower, brush his teeth, get dressed, make breakfast, and watch the news. Michael had sat down upon the couch in his living room, eating a makeshift breakfast that was nothing more then a cup of coffee; cream, no sugar; and a granola bar. The news station had just finished covering the president's speech he had been at the other day, the news report spurred up the humourous recent memories of the two people talking in the alley, and his paranoid feelings afterwards about it.

...In other news, the Draykon corporation announced that they would be holding a press conference on a new project that would, quote: bring us into a new age of communication; end quote...

He had no cares about the world of corporate and fiscal business, it wasn't important to him, and thus, he tuned out much of the news broadcast. The memories of the picture he had taken lingered. And after breakfast, he walked to his room to get the roll. Michael opened the drawer with the rolls of film inside; one was missing. An older one was nowhere to be found,though the one from the President's speech was still there.

I must've misplaced one...

He thought to himself. Michael took the newest roll and took it into his dark room. It had once been a spare bed room, but since he never had any guests, it became a perfect dark room. It took awhile to develop the photos, and though all the president's pictures looked fine, he kept focused on the picture of the two men the picture he accidently took, inthe alleyway. He had an scratching feeling in the brain that it was important, that paranoid voice in his mind told him that he needed to show his boss this, if for anything, closure to keep the stupid ideas out of his mind. He took all the pictures with him, slipped on his spring coat, and walked to the door. The bolt lock was unlocked, something that was quite unusual, as he always had locked it, every night, out of pure instinct. He felt a chill rush down his spine, like a cold set of nails racked his back. Something was off about the whole thing, the missing roll of film, the unlocked door. He walked out, shook off the feeling, and drove to his work.

The Washington D.C. Daily Newspaper building reflected the newspapers personality perfectly: Cold, industrial, and void of all individuality. From the outside it looked like an old warehouse, and the inside was no different. Past the open, expansive main room of the warehouse-esque building was the offices of the newspaper. Though within the main room, the newspaper printing presses gave a loud hum that overpowered even the loudest shout, the offices we're actually fairly quiet, due to the sound blocking brick wall seperating the two different rooms. Michael had walked through the wooden doorway of Robert Howel's office. Inside the room was a small reception, old, worn out fake leather seats lined one side of the wall, near the door that actually lead into Howel's office. the Office and the reception were seperated by a small smoked wood wall with large, fogged out windows, behind the windows, dirty wood blinds. The Secretary was at her desk, mind unattentive to her job, instead, it was focused on a small color tv set up on her desk, the screen flashing images of a T.V. soap opera.

"...."

Michael had stood there for a few seconds, hoping to obtain a response from the secretary.

"...Carol.....Carol....Carol!"

"Oh! Hello Mr. Renner, can I help you?"

"I don't know, can you?"

"No reason to be smug...Mr. Howel is free at the moment, feel free to go ahead in."

"Thankyou Carol."

"...whatever..."

Michael stepped through the doorway of Robert Howels actual office. It was filled with tin file drawers, lining the wall next to two windows. Howel was sitting at his desk, paperwork scattered upon it in a haphazard pattern, with a box of empty donuts onto of them. Howel's obvious eating habbits affecting his appearence. The aged man, within his early 50's, was balding, double chinned, and quite portly.

"Renner, what do you want?"

"I have some pictures for you, they all turned out pretty well."

He handed Howel the pictures of the president he had taken. Howel's stubby fingers ruffeled through the pictures, going through each on, picking out the ones he liked, and placing them on his desk.

"Good work Renner, these aren't that bad. My Secretary has your paycheck, you can get it on your way out."

Michael had gripped in his hand the picture of the two mysterious men in the alley, clentched between his index and his thumb. He wanted to resolve his minute paranoid delusions, and so, he spoke up to Howel.

"Uh sir. I was wondering...Do you know who either of these two people are?"

He handed Howel the picture, who's face, when looking upon the picture, changed it's expression in a quite quick manner. The face looked more serious, and he appeared to become slightly sweated, upon his brow.

"N...no... I cant say I do. But if you'd like, I could hold onto the picture, and see what I could come up with."

"Thanks, but no thanks Mr. Howel, I'd rather hold onto it myself, I wouldn't want to trouble you anyways."

Michael took the picture back, though Howel's hand seemed slightly reluctant to do so. Howel had that more serious expression upon his face even up to the point Michael walked out of the room, something about the picture had hit a nerve in Howels mind. He took his check from the secretary and walked out of the building, getting into his car and drove back to his apartment.

He had gotten back a good 45 minutes later to his apartment. He parked it, immediately noticing a black sedan was parked infront of his apartment. It had no tags, back or front, and it's headlights had that sinister tilt to them. He felt his heart drop within his body quickly as he saw it, a slight tremble in his step, he walked to his apartment door. He opened it slowly, and his eyes immediately fixated upon three figures within his living room. Two of them were tall, fit men. Both in matching blackish-blue suits, with pure black ties and a white suit shirt underneath and black tinted glasses. The third figure hit him like a brick in his mind. It was an old, skinny, frail looking old man with a long white goatee upon his chin, and a much weighted browned overcoat wrapped around him. It was one of the men from within the alleyway the other day. The man stood up slowly, speaking to Michael in a calm, though sly voice.

"Mr. Renner, please, come in, we have much to discuss....."

Very cool bud.

Another interesting chapter.

OK, So far so good. Where's the rest of it? I want to know who the guy in his apartment is

You're a good writer. Keep it up.

Love and light,

Wupy

Wow Wolf - this is fabulous.

Keep i t coming! (I'm very impressed.)

Excellent stuff, Wolf! Can't wait for the next installment.

Nice touch with the sniper deception at the start. Nice ominous build-up to the guys in his apartment. I like the main character already. Thumbs up!

"You have something very important we'd like back, Mr. Renner..."

The pasty, frail man spoke to Michael, his face smirking sinisterly as he continued.

"...and I'm sure you know exactly what I want, so please, don't play an imbecile; tea?"

The man had a small tea set on the coffee table with two small tea cups. He poured the steaming hot tea out of the spout of the tea pot and into one of the tea cups.

"So, not only are you people breaking into my home at night, but now your using my family heirlooms without my permission."

Michael had eyed the tea set, it was his late grandmothers set, an old antique of sorts.

"Mr. Renner, you have to understand, we go where we please, and use whatever we want. Now, please, just give me the picture, and we'll be on my way."

"I'm not giving you anything."

The old man let out an annoyed grunt, placing his tea cup back onto the silver plater the set layed upon and stood up, two skinny pale hands brushing off his overcoat as he did.

"You made this far more difficult then you needed Mr. Renner. If you refuse to give us the picture..."

"what, you'll kill me?"

The man laughed at Michaels comment, a sinister smile appearing on his face.

"...No, we wouldn't do such a thing, but if you don't give us the picture, your life will become quite difficult untill you do. We'll keep in touch Mr. Renner."

And with that, the frail man and his two suits walked calmly out of the house.
Michael closed the door almost immediately, his heart raced from the encounter just like it had from when he had first taken that picture. He shook off the feeling and walked into his kitchen, placing the picture down upon his table. He stared at the two figures within the picture, the one man was deffinitely the one that just visited him, though the other man was a mystery. Scenerios flew through his head, who the people were, what happened in the house, what would happen in the future. The old man's words bounced around in his head as he tryed to figure out what he meant. hours flew by as he found himself entranced in his thoughts, only to be snapped out by the ring of the appartments doorbell.

Michael stood up and walked to the door. His palm instantly clammed up, his teeth biting on his lower lip as he slowly opened the door, holding his breath...

Well, I have to say you are very good at ending each segment in a way to keep us wanting the next segment NOW!

Good thing it's the weekend - I want at least four or five more chapters by Sunday night.

Very good!

Another great chapter!

As the door swung open, Michael let loose the air he had held in his lungs, a smile forming on his troubled face.

"Sarah, What are you doing here?"

At the front porch stood a young woman, elegantly dressed in a blood red dress that wrapped snugly against her curved body. Her brown hair was delicately done.

"Whats the occasion."

Those words he mutter brought back a few memories that hit like a brick from a rooftop. He was supposed to take her out to dinner today. She exhaled a sigh towards him, putting weight on one hip as she crossed her arms acrossed her chest.

"Don't tell me you forgot."

"Uh....no! No honey, ofcourse I haven't, I just need to get dressed. Just wait in the living room, I'll get my outfit on."

Michael rushed into his bedroom, rushing to get dressed into a more formal outfit. He slid the picture that was causing so much trouble into his formal jackets interior pocket, and walked out.

"Ready Mike?"

"Yeah lets go."


Chapter 3

The drive to the resturant was solemn and quite. They both didn't talk much the ride there. The parking lot of the resturant, the Bel Vista, was packed with a variety of different cars, many of them quite expensive. Michael pulled up to the front of the resturant, getting out and letting the valet park it. He and Sarah walked into the resturant, an instant rush of voices and music poured out as they opened the doors. The resturant was very well to do, a popular hangout of the higher class, and an ideal place for a date. The whole resturant has a rich and classy feel to it. The lights were dim and gave a mood about the room, and a classical band played various instruments to give a light ambience to the evening. They both sat down at theyre table and ordered theyre meals.

"You seem troubled."

Sarah had a concerned look on her face, piercing blue eyes were locked upon Michael.

"I'm fine."

He said, forcing a smile to ease her concerns. She knew Michael well, and she could easily see through any fascade he tried to put up infront of her.

"Are you sure? Is it your boss? work?"

"No...it's nothing, don't worry about it, I just had a bad day; Let's just enjoy our dinner."

He moved his hand ontop of hers on the table, gently caressed her smooth skin, and forced another smile to her.

They finished theyre meals, and Michael gave a credit card to the waiter.

"You know, I'm really looking forward to meeting your parents tomorrow."

"I thought you didn't really want to go."

"Yeah well, I changed my mind, It'll be a much needed vacation."

The Waiter walked back to the table with a cordless phone.

"I'm sorry sir, but your credit card has been terminated. Your credit card company is on the other line."

Michael furrored his brow. Thoughts of confusion and anger filled his mind as he grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello Mr. Michael Renner? This is Angela Porter."

"My Credit Cards been terminated?!"

"Yes sir, you failed to pay for the last two payments."

"I payed all my payments!"

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm looking at my computer right here, it clearly shows you have not payed off the abundance of ten thousand dollars on your account."

"Te...ten thousand!?"

Michael turned off the phone, frustrated and confused. He rubbed his forehead, handing the cordless phone back to the waiter. Confusion rumbled through his mind, as he clearly knew he had paid for all his credit card payments, and he surely did not have ten thousand dollars in debts.

"I'm sorry."

Michael apologized to Sarah as they walked out of the resturant.

"Don't worry about it Mike, like you said, it's probably a mix up. I'm sure they'll sort it out. And then you can pay me back."

She smirked at him, causing them both to expell a light laugh about the whole situation. The whole situation was strange to Michael, and those words the old man had sound rang out in his mind.

We can make things quite difficult

Okay - more more more!

Can't wait to see how he handles this one, since he clearly has become financially challenged all over a photograph. How much will Sarah put up with as his life gets more and more complicated and will it be worth it?

Good job! You've got me "drawn" in!

That's it! Drag us in and then make us wait a week for more? What is this TV?

If I catch you in chat one more time before I get another chapter you are wolf meat!

WOLF! You are falling way down on my subscribed threads here and the story is too good to not continue.

Now here is a perfect example of why I should never be a Mod. At this point I would ban you from chat till your homework was done.