Mischief

Chapter 1

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"What the actual fuckery...." I trailed off, glancing around the dimly lit room, walls lined with clear containers, crammed with separate pounds of what I could only assume was cocaine.

I could hear faint mumbling from another room and, of course, my curiosity got the best of me.

What exactly it was that I was doing in this stupid abandoned warehouse to begin with, I am still unsure. I mean, sure, I may have seen all the nice, expensive Ferraris and Porches that were in the parking lot around the back while I was on my late night jog of rebellion and rage towards my father (who had, once again, brought home another woman from work, and then proceeded to yell at me when I politely told her to leave - and then threatened to burn the house down if she didn't hurry up and get out)...

I just couldn't help myself.

So I decided - for whatever deranged reason my brain managed to conjure up at the time - that going inside to investigate would be The Most Brilliant Idea Ever ™️.

And so I found myself creeping past stacks of cocaine, through a doorway that lead into what seemed to be a makeshift drug lab. I ducked behind another rather large stack of drugs and peeked out.

There were a few benches in the center of the room covered in white plastic sheets where four men stood wearing lab coats, thick latex gloves, safety glasses and masks. They were testing what I could only assume was more drugs, one dripping light blue liquid into a test tube filled with other liquid, another testing something else, and the other two were on a separate table, packaging all of the drugs and stacking them into yet another pile on the floor. Jeez, there has got to be a good few hundred pounds in here.

Fuckin' druggos.

In the dim lighting, I managed to see ten or so huge tanks which sported a huge flammable sign on the front of all of them; another two behind me, against the wall. Seeing them made me feel around in my pocket for my lighter, gripping it tightly. Of course, I wasn't actually going to blow them up, I was just reminding myself that I could if I wanted to.

I shuffled a little to try and get a better view of the warehouse but fail miserably. I settled with kneeling so that I was ever so slightly raised above the piles of coke. One of the tables was facing away from me and the other was tilted towards them but I still highly doubted anyone would see me. They seemed very preoccupied with their work anyway.

I couldn't actually see that much anyway, considering that the warehouse was being lit with some measly florescent lamps that were stationed on either side of the two tables. The floor was cement and cold and was starting to hurt my knees, but I didn't let it bother me.

What I didn't see was the man hiding in the shadows in the corner across the room. The man with the gun. The man that looked like he was around about 6ft tall and ate teenagers like me for dinner along with a side of steroids. The man that wasn't focused on anything science-related. The man that stepped out of the shadows from where he once hid, and the next thing I knew, he was also the man with his gun raised directly at me.

"Hey!" he shouted.

I ducked just as a gunfire echoed throughout the room the huge tank behind me was hit.

"Don't shoot the product!" one of the Einstein-looking men shouted from behind the table, barely even taking his eyes off the test tube. Our dude, Muscle Man, lets out an exasperated sigh/caveman grunt and puts away his gun.

The terminator look alike came pounding across the floor towards me looking like the fully black-dressed angel of death, ready to simply crush the life out of me with his humongous combat boots.