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The light swinging from the roof flickered as the dirty user syringe was held up to it. The needle's point had been dulled down by use, and god knows what else was crawling all over it. But he didn't care. He saw not the infections he'd get from this, or what he already had inside his abused body; no, he only saw the sweet, sweet filling inside. There was a certain lust in his green eye, the kind you only get from a junkie. The craving was too bad to bear, there was no way he was holding back. He needed it now.
He bit his lower lip, catching the ring in his teeth; his shaking hand began to reach up to it; but was swatted away.
"Not quite yet, Wrecks."
The red-head curled his hand and slammed his fist down hard on the table.
"******** off! Ah need it now!" His raspy voice shaking as bad as his body. No, it wasn't about the high anymore. It was about keeping away from the pain of withdrawal. "Ah can't ********' shoot when Ah'm shakin' so bad! Ah'm as good as dead, and Ah'm no use to ya as a ********' corpse Jack!" "I can get another." He grabbed under the large table with both hands, and flipped it over, sending to to the ground with a crash.
"Jus' gimme the ********' heroin, and Ah'll do yer stupid little job fer ya!" His employer kept his calm disposition, not even flinching at the shorter man's outburst. "That's not how things work. You fufill your contract, then you get paid. Not the other way around." He sank the needles back into the pocket of his coat, where more surely hid for his other junkie 'minions'. They were easier to control, and easy to manipulate. And Wrecks knew this too, he was one of them. No matter what, they always end up doing their job. Always.
Oh sure, he had contemplated killing his master, but what would come of it? He had no idea where he got his s**t from, and if he'd kill Jack surely just unleash a countless amount of mercs on his a** as well.
"Jus' a little. Jus' enough t'stop the shaking so's Ah can actually ********' shoot." Begging was demeaning, but when you had no pride to back up on there was no shame in it. "No deal. Look, the target you're taking down hides out of a sniper's way. Paranoia, I'm sure you now all about it."
"Fahn...who is the unlucky sum'b***h this tahm?"
"An old friend." "Ah figured."
"Either way, I expect no mercy from you. Hack him to bits, rape his corpse, hell, [******** him to death. I don't care, just make sure he dies. He has a bad habit of not actually being dead when I send someone to kill him. I'm partial to believe that he's persuading people."
"So, Ah'm not to fall fer it lahk a good little dog?"
"Bingo. Bring me his head and there's an extra treat in it for you."
The tall man walked over to the ginger, and pat his head like he was some sort of pet, before he left the room. The heavy door slamming hard behind him.
Wrecks sank down, and fell to the floor. Jobs where he never had his fix were always the worst.