Joined: 23 April 2009
The Gangsters mistress
Rays of sunlight streaked through her over curled chestnut hair, highlighting the brilliance of her cascaded mounds. Paying no heed to the attention lavished upon her, she idly murmured her thanks to the bashful waiter as he placed her coffee upon the table. Without wishing to look away in case her target passed by unnoticed, Geet kept her gaze fastened on the street ahead. The foreboding buildings clustered together, looking like a scenery from the haunted movies. She shuddered at the thought of how creepy the street would look at nightfall. Heaving a sigh, Geet restlessly tilted her head, hoping against odds that her target would come today. The sudden vibration of her pants made her almost jump into the air. 'Damn' she whispered to herself, 'I always forget to remind myself never to leave my phone in my pocket, especially if it's on vibrate mode!'
She squinted at the caller ID and realized it was from a private number. Her arched eyebrows shot up in surprise; nobody she knew ever called her on a private number. Looking over her shoulder in suspicion, Geet wondered romantically whether it was her secret admirer calling her. Her heart fluttered joyously at the thought of her 'target' finally taking a notice of her, realizing she was the most beautiful woman walking on this earth, and thus abusing his authoritative powers and finally finding a means to contact her.
Chuckling at her swayed fantasies, Geet patted her chest, appreciating herself. God didn't make enough girls like her, I tell you. Placing her attention back to the phone, Geet cleared her throat and answered the phone.
'Hello' she purred seductively, raising her eyebrows in case he had her binoculars zoomed into her face. 'Miss Geet Handa!' the other line shouted in anger, 'when are you going to pay for the rent!'. Geet's eyebrows shot down as she cleared her suddenly nervous voice, 'Uh well you see Sir...Hello you have reached Geet Handa's voice mail, please leave your name and number, and I will try to contact you as soon as possible. If you do not get a response or call after two days then please assume that I am dead. Good day!'. Hanging up the phone, Geet cursed loudly. The old fart was getting more smart and cunning as he aged. Clearly knowing that she would never pick up her landlords phone, he had purposely called her via a private number.
'I'm going to have to change my number ' again!' she exclaimed. Sipping her coffee, she spent several minutes feeling sorry for herself, only to completely forget the sheer reason why she was even here today.
restlessly checked her watch and noticed that the usual time whereby
he would pass by had gone way passed. Trying to stifle up her
disappointment, Geet took a large sip of her coffee. She hadn't even
swallowed, when a long streak of black cars drove by and stopped at
the traffic lights, right in front of the Cafe. Completely
forgetting about the coffee in her mouth, Geet quickly scanned the
line of cars, her throat ticking with excitement. At that moment, she
noticed her target sitting in the back of the BMW vehicle. His car
was surrounded by his men, front, back, left, right and centre. As
per usual, she expected the traffic light to turn green, and his car
would drive off, without him even sparing a glance at her direction.
But to her astonishment, he casually turned his head and stared
straight at her direction. Her surprise was so great, that instead of
swallowing her coffee, she ultimately spat it right out. Paying no
heed to the remains of coffee dribbling off her chin, Geet continued
to stalk him with her eyes. She couldn't tell if he was staring at
her due to his black glasses, but the fact that the worlds most
dangerous, most ruthless, most feared gangster was right in front of
her, made the encounter even more memorable.
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Joined: 23 April 2009
The Gangster's Mistress
Several hours had passed since the last intertwining hues of the sunset had diminished in sight. Replaced and present now was the starlight, penetrating and twinkling in the nights sky. Completely and utterly isolated, Geet shifted uncomfortably upon the bench, awaiting for the delayed train to arrive. Sparing a glance around her surroundings, she tried to swallow her feelings of unease, whence realizing that she was the only sole individual at the train station. The night was so silent, the station so undisturbed, that Geet could have sworn a ball of tumble weed would breeze by.
Feeling a tad awkward being on her own, she flipped out her phone and commenced her texting obsession. Since she was beginning to feel paranoid and quite scared, sending messages to her friend would make her feel better. Once pressing the 'send' button, Geet sighed and checked the time on her watch. '10:20pm' she read out loud. 'damn the store manager for making me work overtime!'. The train was due to arrive in 10 minutes, so all she had to do was let time pass quickly and to stay alive.
A chill ran down her spine as she felt something change in the atmosphere. Rubbing her chilled arms to ease the goosebumps, Geet tried to hum a song in order to break the dreadful silence. 'Tip tip barsa paaani' she sang, 'paani mein aag ne ne ne nennne...' The sentence ended with a mumble as Geet realized that she did not know the rest of the lyrics. Her humming ceased completely as the sound of distant gunshots came to her notice. Shooting right up from the chair, Geet almost squealed in fear. Clutching her bag for protection in case she needed to bag-smack someone to death, Geet took a few steps back. 'Did I imagine that gunshot?' she mused aloud to herself in wonder.
The answer to question did not wait long to emerge into sight. Gasping in bone shriveling fear, Geet's eyes almost popped out of her face as she watched a tall shadowed man running towards her direction. Common sense told her to run, but the fear was so great, that her legs were buckling like an old hag. Clutching her trembling leg with her hands, Geet tried to urge herself to run like a maniac. From a third perspective, anyone would conclude that she was having an epilepsy attack.
As the shadowed figure came into close proximity, his face was revealed to her dazed senses. Clad in jeans, supported by a belt, he wore a black buttoned shirt, opened several buttons from the collar. However, it wasn't his clothes nor his face that caused her to recognize him. It was his long black coat which according to rumours, concealed many dangerous weapons that could kill a person within a blink of the eye. 'Maan' she whispered as she gazed at her idol, her inspiration, her reason why she had been looking for him for all these years.
Suddenly he whirled around and without breaking his run, crossed his arms before his chest and retrieved two guns from inside his coat. Geet's jaw dropped as she watched him aim and without hesitating, shot the men that were after him. Geet clutched the bench for support, as she stared in horror at the blood flowing onto the ground. The whistle of the departing train still did not awake her from the temporary paralysis that overtook her body. The shock was so immense, that she had not even realized that the train had arrived.
Turning back around to face her direction, Maan increased his speed and without even sparing her a glance, shouldered right passed her. Geet was about to lose her balance when suddenly she felt him grabbing her hand and pulling her alongside with him. Shouting in surprise, Geet was slow to react as she felt his hands tighten around hers. Not even bothering to look over his shoulder, Maan continued to run towards the train, taking her with him. All Geet could notice was the way the back of his coat flew upwards, dramatically, just like in the movies.
A bullet from behind whipped right passed her, compelling her to scream in astonishment. Hearing her scream, Maan looked over his shoulder and directly at her face for a few seconds. His intense eyes scanned her face, and her body to check whether she had been shot. Then without warning, he raised his left arm and positioned his gun right beside her head. Had the circumstances been otherwise, Geet would have gladly informed him how rude and ungentlemanly it was for a man to use a womans head as a position to aim ones gun! Shooting three times, Geet diagnosed herself with being permanently deaf.
Eventually they reached closer to the trains doorway. Once they were only inches away, Maan grabbed the silver handle and jumped inside. Turning around, he urged her to jump also without letting go of her hand. Geet prayed for courage and eyed the train nervously. How was one expected to simply jump onto a train that's speed was increasing by the minute. Sending a small prayer, Geet prepared her running legs to jump. However, Maan had grown impatient with her delayed response and thus sticked half his body out of the train, and pulled her arm violently towards him. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he practically picked her up and settled her onto the train. Her heart was thudding on her chest, as she glanced nervously at his angered expression.
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Joined: 23 April 2009
The Gangster's Mistress
sway of the train as it whisked through the tracks was not enough to
deter her gaze from being fixated upon his face. His eyes silently
scanned the empty carriage; curling his hand possessively over the
revolver. Her existence was forgotten, for he paid no heed, nor
acknowledged her lingering presence. Geet fought the urge to wave her
arms around hysterically, in order to capture his neglected
attention. However, the cold expression etched within each contour of
his hardened face warned her not to fuel his monstrous temper.
after a few minutes, Maan's stiff posture relaxed as he realized that
there were no potential dangers lurking by. Leaning comfortably
against the wall of the carriage, he flicked a cigarette skilfully
into his mouth and lit it with his lighter. Geet stifled her disgust
as he blew the smoke towards her direction. Clearly no one had taught
this barbarian the simple etiquette of not to smoke in the presence
of a lady. Fanning the fumes of passive smoke away from her face,
Geet thought of opening the door of the carriage, so that she could
sit upon the comfortable chairs rather than standing with a cold
to her dismay, as she attempted to open the door, a hand from behind
snaked out and slammed it shut. Looking over her shoulder, she found
her face inches away from his, as he leaned over and craned his neck
towards her direction. 'Excuse me' she stated in a shrilled tone,
'if you kindly remove your hands, I would like to leave!' As
usual, there was no response on his behalf. Geet did not know where
she obtained the courage to boldy attempt to dislodge his hand; but
nevertheless she tried. Misinterpreting his strength had been an
obvious mistake on her behalf, for it seemed like she was pushing
against a wall.
in his mouth, Maan turned his entire body towards her direction;
placing both hands against the carriage door. Trapped in between his
outstretched arms, Geet stared at him mutely. How would a normal girl
react, finding herself alone and trapped within a single breath away
from a man who shot bullets for a mere living? Geet seriously
contemplated with the idea of kicking him in the crotch, since the
man was clearly unable to communicate with the usage of words. Her
wandering thoughts returned the moment he blew the smoke at her face.
Coughing with revulsion, Geet turned her face to the side, trying to
avoid the smoke. Wrong decision. The moment she turned her head, she
found herself face to face with the loaded gun still clutched into
his hand. Eyes widening in utter horror, Geet's head snapped back to
his face; only to discover a wave of amusement lingering in his gaze.
if I wanted to die from lung cancer I would have happily succumbed to
my friends peer pressure of smoking!' she blurted out thoughtlessly,
'It seems like karma truly finds it own way for it is destined that I
may certainly die with that illness due to passive smoking!'.
his eyebrows at her display of courage, Maan simply responded with
another exhalation of smoke. Geet opened her mouth to slash him with
her tongue, when suddenly he stopped her by placing his finger onto
her lip. 'Shut up' he whispered harshly as he suspiciously scanned
the carriage. The man was a ball of paranoia, Geet thought to herself
in annoyance.Trying to slap his hand away, she struggled against his
hold. Annoyance laced in his expression as her futile movements
distracted his focused attention. 'Listen lady' he stated in a cold
deadly tone, 'if you value your worthless life then quit your
struggling before I place a bullet through that empty head of yours'.
To emphasize on his threats, Maan positioned the gun at the side of
a volcano erupted, or an earthquake tore at the ground; Geet still
would not have even risked batting an eyelash. Freezing herself in a
paralyzed posture, all she did was dumbly nod her head in agreement.
Who was she kidding? She couldn't even kill a fly without murmuring
her prayers and closing her eyes. And here she was trying to verbally
battle against a man who would without hesitation or blink of an eye
shred her into pieces. But really, if she survived the night, Geet
vowed to find him somehow, through the computer or phone so she could
give him a piece of her mind! First and foremost, two things should
be clear. No guns and no smoking in the presence of a beautiful,
fragile, respectful woman! Oh and no death threats either. How could
she forget to add that feature? She may not be that physically strong
or capable of hurting anything that moved; but she was the master of
being a keyboard warrior.
he cursed as the sound of gunshots arose once again. Grabbing her
hand with his free (gun-less) one, Maan broke into a run, dangling her
with him. They ran through the empty carriages, as bullets pierced
through the train windows. Geet shrieked as a bullet almost targeted
her. Tackling her onto the ground, Maan laid on top of her, covering
and sheltering her with his muscular body. Geet selfishly hid her
frightened face into his broad chest, her breath coming out in short
inside the carriage!' she heard the men shout from outside. 'Come'
Maan whispered as he helped her onto her feet, and instructed her to
crouch low as they swiftly walked towards the end of the train, where
the drivers cabinet was located. Kicking the door open, Maan noticed
that the man had been shot dead long ago. The voice of the men
indicated that they were in close proximity. Geet squeezed his hands,
urging the bas***d to take some action instead of staring at the dead
driver. 'Quick their coming!' Geet whispered urgently, 'stop acting
like you've never seen a dead man before!' Maan looked at her in
surprise for a single second, then clouded his features with his
usual expressionless face. Pulling her towards the entrance/exit
doorway of the train; he silently inspected the surroundings.
groaned in frustration. This man was totally unpredictable. In usual
times he would be aiming his gun at innocent girls, threatening to kill
them, blowing smoke at their face and increasing their risks of
having lung cancer. And in times when he needed to think and act like
a true cold blooded killer, the man would waste his time staring at a
dead man, and now possibly admiring the environment. 'The grass is
green and the sky is black' Geet stated, 'now can we please get out
are' he replied in a clipped tone.
Geet replied happily, 'how?'
'WHAT!?!?!' Geet screamed, only to be cut short from the sound of shooting guns approaching their way. Looking over her shoulder, Geet saw the men running in the carriage towards their direction. Her mouth formed an 'O' in astonishment. Before she could whisper her prayers, and tell the gangster that she found him hot (her last words).
Geet felt him
grab her arm. It was palpable that men still lived in the 10th
century, whereby they did not find it convenient to ask a woman's
permission let alone opinion about her jumping suicidally off a train.
If Maan had simply asked her: 'Geet would you like to do me the
honours of jumping off this train and perhaps risk breaking your neck
and legs?' She would have kindly rejected his offer and bid him good
night, for the men were after his blood not hers! Alas, he was no
Closing her eyes; Geet felt the gush of air breeze through her as she jumped to her death.
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Joined: 02 February 2011
so sammy u r starting this one
Will be waiting 4 update
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