criminals - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Teddy stubbed his cigarette out on the parched soil. He raised his head to gaze the sky for the incoming plane. With this shipment his employer would rule the downtown, control both drugs and extortion rackets. They were going to be better equipped than his old battalion but without the pesky rules of combat. He was itching to get his fingers on the new automatic weapons, night vision goggles and infra-red scanners. Soon there would be quite literally no place to hide. Exterminating with extreme prejudice was what he liked best and this way he didn't even have to leave the country to do it. He got paid to do what he wanted to do anyway, and being so sort after he could demand high fees. Morals were a weakness and no person still living had accused him of having either.
Gina flicked her hand lazily to signal the server should leave; he bling-bling platinum bangles shifting and clinking to exaggerate her dismissal. Then she returned her arms to their resting position elbows on the well-shined table and manicured nails almost touching her lips. The bangles fell to the soft skin part way down her arm and lay glinting in the afternoon rays, bright against her brown skin. There they would rest until she had finished drawing information out of the imbecile before her. The man was trying too hard, laughing too easily, uncomfortable in a suit that had a new sheen. She on the other hand underplayed her part, coy and a little slow to warm. Let him feel like he's in charge, that he earned my trust. He was easier to steer than her new Mercedes. She remained girlish, innocent. Beneath her mask of delight and interested listening she was planning this death and the disposal of his body in the same manner most people reserved for write a list of household chores.
Gina stepped into the rain. In seconds her furs were bedraggled and her skin wet. Instead of running for cover her mouth curved into the most delicious smile. This was providence. Her prayers were answered. Even just a few yards from the door she could be anywhere at all, the world was just blurs and the hammering quite disorientating. She turned back to the shelter of the house, not caring for water trail she left on the wooden floor. She dialled Joe, "Move the goods right now."
It was a very dark night, about nine o'clock, and deserted seeming. He was struck by the strange, deserted feeling of the city's atmosphere. Yet he noticed before him, at the foot of the statue, three men, one with a torch: a long torch with naked flames. The men were stooping over something dark, the man with the torch bending forward too. It was a dark, weird little group, like Mediaeval Florence. Aaron lingered on his doorstep, watching. He could not see what they were doing. But now, the two were crouching down; over a long dark object on the ground, and the one with the torch bending also to look. What was it? They were just at the foot of the statue, a dark little group under the big pediment, the torch-flames weirdly flickering as the torch-bearer moved and stooped lower to the two crouching men, who seemed to be kneeling.
Behind Delilah is a man who hasn't shaved in a while, yet it isn't really a beard. His lobster skin is dashed in dirty grey hairs that aren't either long enough or shaped enough to be an intentional beard. He has the look of man who once had muscles, broad over the back and thick in the neck. To me he's just another old man, albeit one with some extra poundage to carry around now that those once honed limbs are mostly fat. I shouldn't be staring like this but I feel safe to look while he is half turned away. The lumberjack shirt he wears is loose, odd, he doesn't look like he could possibly have lost weight and going by the junk he's eating it can't be a priority. I begin to avert my gaze to a handsome guy that just walked in when I see it; as he stretches to pick up a top row magazine the muzzle of a gun peeks below his shirt line. My eyes pop as he glances behind himself, catching the expression that I only wear for a fraction of a second...