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A Path of Torment (( |WW| & Tetsu )) Private|18+

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- A Path of Torment -


Private RP | 18+



This RP will contain Extreme Violence,

Crude Language and very Degrading situations.


If the thought of this offends you,

please don't continue.






"Either kill me, or take me as I am, because I'll be Damned if I ever change."


Ethen Rivers










Private Debt Collector


The black unmarked sedan eased up to the curb, stopping for a moment before the lights flicked off along with the engine. A figure dressed in black slid out, removing a likewise duffle from the passenger side before locking the vehicle by remote. He'd parked further down from his destination, just for precaution. Couldn't have his current target noticing a visitor and making a run for it. That was -if- they hadn't already. That was not uncommon in his line of work.

Black boots trudged quietly along the curb until he cut up into a side-yard; the grass long overdue for some attention. The weeds brushed his knee's and swished aside as he passed through. It was pitch black outside. He'd waited till around midnight so the chances of catching his prey sleeping was more likely. Again, if they weren't gone already. Most of the time these were wasted trips, but his Brother allowed no room for -if- and -buts-; it was business.

Glancing around he noticed most of the homes in this section of the city were placed far apart, and each one looked worse than the one before. It was a once lovely district that had fallen because of the lack of jobs in the area. People struggled to survive while their bills piled up and their homes were eventually snatched away by the bank. Tragic, but that's just how it was.

When he slipped through the overgrown forestry like side-yard he arrived at the home. Careful to be quiet, he tread cautiously with no light. Easing around the front of the home he noticed this one wasn't so terribly bad off. It was a small two story with an attached garage. He'd driven by it in the day a few times, just to decide his point of entry. The back couldn't be seen from the street, but he'd gotten prints of the home layout in advance so he could envision the possibilities.

The rear of the home had a back entrance with two doors. An outer screen door which was wide open and nearly hanging on it's hinges, and an inner door which sported a single deadbolt and a window which had a broken pane of glass, covered by what looked like cardboard. Using a tiny penlight he poked the cardboard and slid his gloved hand inside, gently easing his fingers down to flick the deadbolt. Holding the pen between his teeth he slid his hand back out and gently gripped the handle in one hand, pressing his other against the trim so he could control just how fast that door opened. He was expecting one of those creepy moans old doors often gave, but was given silence as it eased inwards with no protest.

Turning the light off, he slid himself inside and closed the door just as silently behind him. He did much better in dark houses than yards where he couldn't make out shapes in the grass. At least the inside of a home was clean of grass, sticks and other pesky trip-ups. Most of the time. Glancing around the kitchen he'd walked into, he eased himself down to kneel; just listening for a moment. Thinking about what came next.

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[TABLE=class: outer_border, width: 400, align: center]





"Funny how you think you own me. You own nothing but your own piece of shit."


Warren Pierce





















The 24 year old blond held himself back from punching the walls right after reading the note -
"Will be out for a vacation. Debt collectors may come so deal with them yourself. I'll pay you later on when I'm back."
his mother had hurriedly written on a piece of scrapped paper. He surely would have done more than a punching but the house wasn't at its best condition at all. It had been years since the last time the run down house got a fixing and he can surely remember they were well off by then. Warren opted on crumbling the damned piece of paper, throwing it right on the trash bin.

His mother, Annabelle Pierce, has left him on his own. She was his only family all these 24 years of his life. His father was a jerk, running away with a teenage girl was cheating with. He wouldn't give a fuck if she stayed or not. As far as he can remember, the old hag was nothing but a burden to him. He was smart and he could have gotten scholarship for college but his damned mother has hidden all the paperwork he needed and told him to earn money than to 'play' schooling. He could go on about fucking forever reminiscing the harsh past of his. But that won't do him any good.


Instead, the brown eyed blond hurried to his room and packed himself all the things he could grab in one go, trying to leave the unkempt house in the fastest time he could. He grabbed himself a black leather jacket and opened the stash he had hidden from his mother. Inside is a few dollars he saved up... for cases such us this one.


In few minutes he would officially be homeless. The house and lot was surely of some value but he's not sure if that's enough to cover the entire debt her mom had left him. He's not even aware how much they have lent. These fuckers would surely find a way for the debt to go higher. He can't fucking deal with them. He'd give them the fucking house and that's it. Her mom is on her own.


Warren took a cigarette on his pocket, lighting it up with a lighter as he hurriedly left his room darting through the stairs. He would have walked for the backdoor and leave the house in no time if not for noticing an unfamilar figure in the corner of his eyes. The blond guy turned around to face the black haired stranger, glaring at him as he asked.


"Who the fuck are you?"

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Using the penlight once more while knelt, he slid out a small notebook and read the details given to him; just as a small reminder. He hated remembering names. That was probably the only thing he was extremely terrible with. But what the fuck did it matter anyway? You didn't need to remember someone's name when they were but one of many fools allowing themselves to get indebted in the first place. They were just another possible dollar sign mixed in the pot.


Placing the book away he listened again, having heard the steps on the second floor. They sounded hurried and from the slams and bustle he'd say none too patient either. Well, that was alright by him. He had all the patience in the world; sickeningly large amounts. Lips peeled back into a promising grin, slowly rising from the crouched position to stand. He slid the large bag from his shoulder and carefully set it on the counter.


Reaching in a side pocket he slid out a very small syringe which was capped and filled with a yellow-tinged liquid. Holding it up he flicked the small plastic container, making sure no magical bubbles had arrived at some point in travel before turning the pen light off. Holding the syringe nestled in his palm and loose fisted fingers, he propped himself against the counter and waited. Since they were still in the house he had no concerns about subduing the person or persons in question. It's when they got outside that caused some extra hassle and foot work. He disliked running after people. Really... disliked it. But he did like the noises they made when being chased; that made up for some of the trouble.


A dark brow rose seeing the not-so female figure come into view. The flame from the lighter had illuminated his young features briefly before the cigarette glowed red at it's tip. Ah, so it had been the son- or so he figured. Unlikely there were random strangers roaming the house the same time he was. When he was noticed at last he pushed away from the counter, calmly walking towards the male. His footfalls were heavy now that the prey had him in sight. "Warren, I presume?" He questioned back while closing the distance, not offering an answer to the initial question.

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White gleam of moonlight was illuminating the black haired intruder as Warren foresaw a premonition of what was coming. The other guy was most likely around to ask for debt collection the brown eyed guy's run away mother had borrowed. Turning off the lighter and still holding it on one hand, he quickly inhaled the newly lit cigarette as he tried to guess the next course of action the other guy was to make.


"Warren, I presume?"

Hearing the other person spoke of his name has gotten the blond convinced that the guy was nothing but trouble. He cursed himself for being a minute late since the blonde could be freely walking over the empty streets just right now. But the debt collector had came at the most unexpected time where not a single soul will see him get beaten up or abused should he try to resist the debt collector. The 24 year old guy chuckled as he mused himself over the fact that whether they're seen or not, the unemployed neighbors of his won't bother to care anyway.


Warren watched the stranger close the distance, and he was waiting just about the right time to run away. He's not about to get himself involved with debt collectors. He has a few bucks with him but that was his own personal money for emergency cases, not for him to pay debt his mother had borrowed. In fact, the blond guy doesn't even know what the old woman used the money for. He sure hoped that she had not been using it up to pay the young guy over the next street he caught her doing indecent things with.


Before the other person took his last step, Warren had swiftly thrown him the lighter he had quickly lightened. He sure hoped that was enough to surprise the stranger as he started darting to the backdoor to leave. He wasn't as fast carrying all the loads with him. But as a person who is used to running away from people to people over their neighborhood, no one should look down on hi speed. Adrenaline was gushing for inside him. In no time he was about to reach the knob of the door. He could get away with this like he used to. It's nothing different. Or at least that was what the blonde guy thought.

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Like a stubborn blonde rat. He could already see this one making a break for it. Stupid idea, but he gave the younger props for at least having the balls to attempt it. A lot of people merely froze up at the sight of someone in their home, staring with their mouths and eyes agape; comical reactions really. Guess it really was more entertaining when they ran after all; still didn't mean he liked it.


A gloved hand rose, batting the lighter that was flung at him away like a mere fly. If you were going to throw something, it had better be something deadly. And lighters didn't stay lit after all, so the small flash was nothing but a candle lit among too much wind. Useless.


He sighed as the Male attempted to make a run for the door. You literally had to pass him to get to it. How was that even remotely smart? Front door would have been understandable. Hell even running back upstairs. But the door he himself had entered? "Not a good idea," he spoke again, this time in an exasperated tone. As the heavily loaded male went past he pivoted, bit the cap off the small syringe he'd been holding and pursued. With five long strides he had a hand buried in blonde hair, and the needle sinking into the side of the youth's throat. He tapped the plunger and quickly released the sedative inside it's target.


"Tsk," he clucked, tossing the used item onto the counter. He still held the mop of blonde strands in a tight fist, but the other arm offered support to the male's body as it swayed. The man's voice deeply purred out next to his prey's ear. "Sleep sweet," he teased with a small nip to the lower lobe; Warren's world then turning black. It only took about ten to fifteen seconds total.


While the male slept, he carried the burden back upstairs and located a bedroom; dropping the dead weight onto the bed. He went back downstairs, making sure all windows and doors were locked, as well as the windows covered. Dialing his brother up on his cell, he left a message explaining the mom had most likely run leaving the boy. Some of the other gang could check on that issue while he entertained himself with the current catch. Next he hauled his bag back upstairs and got down to business.


By the time he was done the room itself had become a lot more empty than it started. He'd drug out nearly every piece of furniture except a computer chair, the bed frame and box-spring [mattress was gone] and a low dresser. There was much more room to walk around and feel comfortable for him without a bunch of useless shit getting in the way. The window, had also been taped up and sealed with a foam that was meant to lessen the noise. It was only temporary. They wouldn't stay in this house for more than a couple days at most anyway.


After he situated the male stomach down, he pulled out adjustable restraints from his bag and set the male up in a classic hog tie, wrists and ankles locked together with his face pulled to the side so not to obstruct his breathing. Shoes and socks were tossed aside, being nice enough to leave the rest of the garments for now. Sinking down into the computer chair he propped booted feet onto the foot of the bed frame and waited, using a small file to fix a rough edge on one of his short but immaculately rounded nails.

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Warren had taken a gamble in which his life may turn a complete 180 degree. The blond had decided to run past the shady debt collector in attempt to reach for the closest door. He could have used the main door, that way he wouldn't have to move any closer to the raven haired stranger. But as stupid as he could get, with all the adrenaline rushing in the unemployed's blood, Warren had taken the worst choice.


The trick probably worked, seeing how the young Pierce easily bypassed the other, with all the belonging he was carrying. However, to the blond's shock, it it meant nothing to the other as the debt collector chased him, closing the distance easily as one thin pointed object suddenly sank to his throat. Warren attempted to look back in horror, wanting to know what had occupied a tiny space in his neck. However, that wasn't even granted as some liquid started to gush forth from the sharp object, making Warren dizzy gradually.


Eyes felt heavy as the surrounding turned blurry. With a single step Warren hadn't given up in escaping, hoping to find himself a salvation over the misery that had been happening to him ever since he could remember. But with no lack, his body wouldn't do as what the sleepy male wanted. Having to lean on to the stranger, Warren lost consciousness.




The blond male silently groaned in pain upon waking up, confused as to why he was lying in a strange position and feeling restrained. It took Warren a few seconds to figure out what's going on and to remember what exactly happened. Being tied up meant that his escape was a failure. With all the knots over his body, the young adult couldn't possibly escape this time either.


Talking was something Warren didn't want to do, not wanting to anger the other who could end his life any moment the stranger wanted. The most he could do was glare at the other while gritting his own teeth, just like a helpless dog.

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