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Post by trickshot on Dec 28, 2012 21:07:00 GMT -5
All those years of being second best would end today. Now he would finally have revenge on his goody two shoes brother Clinton. Today he'd kidnap his lover. Cassandra Flemming. Charlie was ready to rip out Clint's heart. He wished he had done it so long ago when Clint was with Amelia. But hurting anyone that Clint liked or cared for was fine. But Cassandra would be Charlie's best bet and he was going for her. He wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
He would enjoy killing her. He would enjoy chaining Clint to a wall and making his brother watch as he ripped out Cassandra's heart. Or slit her throat. Charlie could think of millions of ways to kill her.
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Post by Cassandra Flemming on Dec 29, 2012 12:00:53 GMT -5
Cassandra was walking down the street. She didn't know how much danger loving Agent Clinton Barton had put her in. She didn't know his deranged brother, Charles, was back. She didn't know how much danger she was truly in. But like always, she had at least one gun on her, and a knife strapped to her inner thigh where no one would see it.
She smiled as she thought of her lover. He was just so perfect. All they way down to how he liked peanuts just as much as she did. She was in a rush to get where she was going, and say no problem taking a shortcut through an ally. So, she did....
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Post by trickshot on Dec 29, 2012 23:42:38 GMT -5
Charlie spotted her right away, she wasn't hard to miss considering he'd been stalking her for the last twenty four hours. He slipped from his hiding place, smoke billowing up around his face as he took a long drag from the cigarette, the bottom sparking slightly and glowing despite the light of the sun, the fading sun.
He came up behind her. "Miss, could you help me?" He said, throwing down the cigarette and stamping it out. "I seem to have gotten myself lost..."
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Post by Cassandra Flemming on Dec 30, 2012 0:13:05 GMT -5
Cassandra looked over as a man approached her. He had a cigarette, but stamped it out as he came to talk with her. She hated smoke, and was glad he put it out. Her father had smoked. She hated it.
She looked at him, he looked kind of familiar, but she knew she had never seen him before. She looked at him. "Yes, I suppose I could help." She muttered, looking him over. She was late to be meeting Clint already...
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