after me.”
Longson fires a bullet through the basement window and it bounces off of Roger's chest.
Roger Hill snickers. “I'm immortal,” he yells out the window to the assassin. “You can fire every weapon in your arsenal and you won't harm me. Can you say the same?”
Longson shoots again, but this time Roger uses his telekinetic abilities to turn the bullet around. He stops it just a few centimeters away from the assassin, lets it sit there for a few seconds to make a point, then allows the bullet to drop to the ground.
“You're a freak!” Longson shouts.
Roger uses his telekinesis to drag Longson inside through the open basement window. “Please tell me that someone has put out a reward for your capture,” he pauses. “I guess I should really look it up online.”
“You can't keep me here against my will,” Longson states.
“I don't intend to,” Roger rebukes. “I intend to turn you, and the rest of your cohorts, in to the police for the rewards. The money should really help pay a major chunk of my college tuition.”
Longson growls.
Roger growls back, not intimidated by Gunovi's assassin.
The same two officers escort Donald Longson out to their patrol car.
“Another one?” the lady officer questions. “Gunovi must want you in the worst possible way.”
“He does,” Roger states. “But he won't succeed. You had better be prepared to come back a few more times.”
The officer lets out an uneasy laugh. “Oh, you were serious.”
“Before you go,” Roger begins. “Is there a reward out for the capture of every member of the Gunovi Family?”
“Yes, there is,” the officer ponders. “And a person could live quite handsomely on it for quite a few years if he captured and turned in all of them.” The officer starts to leave then looks back. “I wouldn't suggest doing it though. Every member of the Gunovi Family is very dangerous.”
“Thanks for the advice, Officer,” Roger offers. “But it looks like they're all going to come after me sooner or later anyway.”
Samuel Gunovi sits at his father's desk, talking on the telephone. “What do you mean you failed?”
Gunovi growls as he slams the phone down and again turns his attention to his father's address book.
Machiavelian
Machiavelian, a muscular man wearing teal jeans, a white tee-shirt, and black belt and boots, stands opposite of Samuel Gunovi's desk. His long black hair is all styled to the left side of his head. “You summoned boss?”
“I want Roger Hill dead!” Gunovi demands.
“My expertise is in fraud, not murder,” Machiavelian tries to explain.
“I don't care if your specialty is dancing around while looking like a daisy!” Gunovi yells. “You work for me. You will take any job I give you. Now go!”
Machiavelian leaves Gunovi's office.
Machiavelian gets out of the back seat of a limo, walks up to Roger Hill's door, and knocks.
Roger peeks out the door. “Can I help you?”
“They call me Machiavelian,” Machiavelian begins. “It means cunning in political management. Gunovi has ordered me to kill you, but my specialty is in fraud, not murder.” He pauses. “I don't even carry a gun.”
Roger Hill opens the door and lets Maqchiavelian in. “I'm sure we can make some arrangements. We'll just get you caught, then we'll just tell Gunovi that you tried, but failed. He'll send someone else who also won't succeed.”
“How can you be so sure that Gunovi won't succeed in killing you?” Machiavelian asks.
“My grandfather came from a planet called Concentratia,” Roger explains. “My Concentratian physiology makes me immortal on every planet except Concentratia. It also grants me the abilities of telekinesis and telepathy.”
“Then why is Gun even trying?” Machiavelian ponders.
“Because he doesn't listen,” Roger answers. “I'll make a deal with you. If you serve your time, I'll help you get your life back on the right track when you get out.” He offers his hand to close the deal.
Machiavelian thinks for a moment then shakes Roger's hand. “I hope I can count on you to visit me while I'm in the big house.”
“Sure,” Roger smiles.
The same two officers appear and escort Machiavelian out to their patrol car.
“Gunovi must be getting desperate,” the male officer states. “No one would send an expert in fraud out to assassinate someone.”
Roger Hill shrugs as the officer leaves.
Samuel Gunovi sits at his father's desk when the phone rings. “Gun,” he answers. “What do you mean you failed?” Gunovi snarls and slams down the telephone receiver. “Nothing but a bunch of incompetents. Maybe an attractive female distraction will succeed.” He flips through his father's address book.
Roger Hill relaxes on the living room sofa and begins watching a movie on the television.
Malice
Malice practices her martial arts abilities in her exercise studio. She wears a blue leotard with matching shoes and headband. Her pink tights match her pink belt. Her hip-length blonde hair is styled to the right side of her head.
Samuel Gunovi enters the exercise studio and watches Malice practice, obviously attracted by the woman's figure and apricot skin tone.
“What do you want?” Malice asks the head of the Gunovi Family.
“I want you to eliminate Roger Hill,” Gunovi answers her.
“Eliminated eliminated, or just temporarily out of your way?”
“Eliminated eliminated.” Gunovi walks to the exercise studio door. “I want him permanently out of existence!” Gunovi slams the door when he exits.
Malice shakes her head and walks out the door.
Roger Hill lays on the sofa watching a movie. When the ending credits start, he uses his telekinesis to turn off the television. “I wonder what I should do now,” he ponders.
Malice jogs up to Roger's house. A crossbow appears in her hands as if out of thin air. She jogs to the front window and shoots a stream of bolts at Roger through it.
“A machine crossbow?” Roger thinks out loud. “I guess Gunovi has provided my next target.” He uses his telekinesis to stop the crossbow bolts and make them fly backwards through the shattered window. “Who did Gunovi give the honor to this time?”
“You may call me Malice,” Malice says as she looks through the shattered window. “He thought a woman might succeed where his best men failed.”
Roger laughs hysterically.
Malice shoots more bolts at Roger, but they just fall to the ground when they hit him.
“I'm sorry,” Roger apologizes as he tries to regain his composure. “You are a very attractive woman, but I'm immortal. There's no way you, or any of Gunovi's other henchmen, can eliminate me.”
Malice glares at him.
Roger shrugs.
“Well,” Malice thinks. “If I can't eliminate you like Gunovi wants, maybe I can keep you busy like I want.” Her crossbow seems to vanish from her hands and a rope takes its place.
Roger uses his telekinesis to make Malice's rope tie her up, then he smiles. “Do you still want to try and keep me busy?”
Malice growls.
The same two officers drag Malice away.
“You must be determined to capture the entire Gunovi Family,” the lady officer states. “If you keep this up I'm sure to make Captain in no time.”
“That's what I'm here for, Officer McLanda,” Roger teases back as he reads her name tag, “to help you become police commissioner.”
Officer McLanda is a fit young woman. Her blue uniform shows off her brown hair and eyes.
Samuel Gunovi sits at his fathers desk talking on the telephone. “What do you mean he told you he's immortal? No one is immortal!” Gunovi slams down the telephone receiver and flips through his father's address book.
Speedy
Speedy got his nickname from his it
chy trigger finger. He shoots the sleek black firearm in his hand flawlessly at the bulls-eye of the targets on the firing range. His black pleather outfit is easy to keep clean with a damp cloth. His brown belt matches his chocolate colored skin.
Samuel Gunovi walks up to the man on the firing range. “Eliminate Roger Hill!”
“Consider it done,” Speedy responds with another bullet through the bulls-eye of his target, then leaves the firing range.
Roger Hill attempts to use his telekinetic abilities to repair the living room window that Malice shot out with her crossbow.
Speedy rides his Harley onto Roger's yard, shooting the front of the house as he does. “Gunovi sends his regards!”
Roger Hill leaps through the broken living room window and tackles Speedy off his motorcycle, sending the mafia man's gun flying. “When you get your one phone call, you can tell Gunovi that...” Roger pauses to think about the message he would like to send Gunovi. “You know what? Nevermind. I've already told him everything that needs to be said.”
Speedy shoves Roger off of him and attempts to tackle Roger, but the high school graduate uses his telekinesis to trap Gunovi's henchman in mid air.
“You should really consider a change in your line of work,” Roger informs Speedy.
Officer McLanda and her partner arrive outside Hill's house and escort Speedy to the back of their patrol car. “What does Gunovi have against you?”
“I told him off on our last day of high school,” Roger explains. “And now that he has control of his father's empire, he thinks nothing can stop him.” Roger pauses for effect. “I'm proving him wrong.”
Gunovi sits at his father's desk, looking through his father's address book. “Someone has to be able to stop Hill!”
Roger Hill stands in his front yard and looks at the bullet holes in his house, the broken living room window, and the flood destroyed basement. “My parents are gonna totally freak when they get home.”
Dr. Dirty
An Irish looking man with short reddish-brown hair and green eyes slices an apple using the short sword he always carries with him.
Gunovi enters the park and sits at the picnic table the Irish man is using as a cutting board. “Eliminate Hill!”
Dr. Dirty throws an apple in the air and allows it to fall on the tip of his sword. “He's as good as gone.” Dr. Dirty rinses off his sword in a nearby stream, places it in its resting place on his back, then walks out of the park.
Roger Hill continues to stand in his front yard looking at his house. “I wonder if I can even have this repaired before my parents get home.” He sighs while using his telekinesis to remove the bullets from the bullet holes, dropping them in the trash can as he does.
Dr. Dirty walks up Roger's yard. “Hill!” Dirty addresses. “Gunovi wants you gone.”
“So?” Roger responds. “The feeling is mutual.” Roger speaks without turning his attention away from taking the bullets out of his parents' house.
“So,” Dr. Dirty begins. “He sent me to take care of his light work.”
“Oh,” Roger rebukes. “I thought that was what he sent the electrician for.”
Dr. Dirty draws his sword and charges at Roger, but the young half-Concentratian simply uses his telekinetic abilities to take the mafia man's sword away from him.
“Nice sword,” Roger admires.
“It should be,” Dr. Dirty informs. “It's a family heirloom.”
“Well then,” Roger begins. “You can get it from Gunovi when you're finally released from prison.” Roger uses his telekinesis to transport Dirty's sword.
Dr. Dirty, infuriated at the disappearance of his sword, tackles Roger.
Roger laughs as he stands up and throws Gunovi's henchman over his shoulder and carries him like a sack of potatoes to the police station.
Gunovi sits at his father's desk as Dr. Dirty's sword appears in the room and forces itself into the desktop.
Samuel Gunovi pulls the sword out of his father's desk and examines it. “So, you have failed as well. Perhaps it is time I offered a reward to any of our people who accomplish the annihilation of Roger Hill.”
Thrash Fearless
A man with short brown hair cracks open the safe in the Hill house as Roger walks in. “What kind of person has an empty safe?” the man asks.
“The kind with nothing to hide,” Roger answers as he leans against the door from. “Now, what are you doing in my house?”
“Gunovi has put out a reward for your elimination,” the man explains. “But Thrash Fearless ain't no murderer, just a lock-picker and safe cracker.”
“So, you're a basic thief,” Roger acknowledges. “You are looking for something to prove my death so you can claim the reward.” Roger snickers. “Does Gunovi know how disloyal you are?”
“I am not disloyal,” Thrash Fearless insists.
“What do you call taking money for a task you didn't complete?” Roger asks.
“Ingenious, if I can get away with it,” Fearless answers.
“That kind of thinking is going to be the downfall of today's society,” Roger retorts. “What happened to the belief that hard work and dedication got people what they needed?”
“Somebody won the lottery,” Fearless answers.
“Well, it obviously wasn't you, or you wouldn't be trying to steal air from an empty safe,” Roger retaliates.
“Which brings us back to where we started,” Fearless laughs uncomfortably.
“I have just one question,” Roger begins. “Would you like me to turn you over to the police or to Gunovi himself?”
“Uh,” Fearless thinks. “The police. Gunovi will have me killed for being disloyal. Look what he's trying to do to you.”
“I thought that would be your answer,” Roger opens the door and follows Thrash Fearless out the door.
Phillip Cortz
Nathan Hill, Roger's younger brother, looks almost exactly like his older brother, but with longer hair, walks in the house. “Looks like my big bro has been having some fun without the rest of the family.”
Phillip Cortz barges in, firing his colts from both hands. “Compliments of Sam Gun.” Cortz wears a fuschia pantsuit trimmed with a black belt, gloves, and boots. He has short, but bushy, black hair, brown eyes, and apricot skin.
Nathan laughs in the would be murderer's face.
The mafia man shoots a few more rounds and Nathan laughs even harder.
“You've got the wrong target,” Nathan explains. “I would bet that Gun wants my brother dead, not me. He should be back any minute.”
Roger Hill enters with Officer McLanda and her partner.
“I told them there would be a member of the Gunovi Family just waiting for them here,” Roger laughs.
“Phillip Cortz,” Officer McLanda begins. “Wanted for murder and sabotage. You should be worried that your brother was in the same room with him.” McLanda draws her service pistol and aims it at Cortz. “Drop your weapons!”
Cortz starts shooting in the direction of the officers, but, once again, Roger uses his telekinetic abilities to stop the bullets and allow them to fall, then Nathan uses the same telekinetic abilities to take Cortz's guns away from him.
“What are we seeing here?” McLanda's partner asks her.
“I'm not quite sure, Tom,” she answers.
“You are seeing a minor display of Concentratian telekinesis,” Roger answers. “My brother and I are immortal, but it seems Gunovi won't believe any of his underlings when they try to tell him.” Roger glares in Cortz's direction, as if the statement and demonstration were actually meant for him.
Officer McLanda looks at her partner. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Tom?”
“Only if you're thinking we should stake out this place and catch all of Gunovi's goons as they try to kill these two, Terry,” Officer Tom answers.
Officer Tom doesn't look much older than Roger. His blonde hair and blue eyes stand out against h
is dark blue uniform. His name badge says Officer Jeans.
Nathan looks at Roger. “Did they just say they are gonna use us for bait?”
Cortz tries inching his way toward the front door.
“They meant me, Nathan,” Roger assures. “I'm the one Gunovi wants.” Roger turns his attention towards Cortz. “And don't think I don't see you trying to escape.” Roger traps Cortz in a telekinetic bubble. “That should hold you until we're done talking.”
Tormentor
A scantily-clad blonde woman barges in and pushes Nathan down onto the couch. “You look yummy.” She looks around, finally noticing the others in the room.
Nathan looks at Roger, his eyes wide with excitement. “Can I keep her?”
“Do you work for Gunovi?” Roger looks to the woman for his answer.
“That depends on how much you're willing to pay,” she answers. “I have many, many, services I am more than capable and willing to provide.” She strokes Nathan's cheek. “I am Jaqueline Tormentia, but most just call me Tormentor, because they want to deny themselves the simple pleasures in life.”
Nathan blushes a bright crimson red.
“And you're more than willing to take money for these simple pleasures you provide, not caring about the moral consequences that associate themselves with them,” Roger accuses.
“You must be the one Gunovi wants eliminated,” Tormentor snarls. “He said you were an arrogant pain the the...”
“Careful, woman,” Nathan interrupts as he sits up. “That's my brother you're talking about.”
“No harm intended,” Tormentor starts, “yet.” She somehow manages to retrieve a small pistol from the few clothes she's wearing. “Now I intend to do harm.” She empties every bullet from her gun, firing it at Roger, but all of them ricochet and find themselves in walls.
Roger shakes his head and simply uses his telekinesis to trap Tormentor in the telekinetic bubble with Cortz.
“Perhaps we should take these two down to the station and book them,” McLanda considers. “And then come back for more.”
“Yeah,” Officer Tom Jeans laughs. “That way we have room in the patrol car.”
Tom escorts Cortz out the door as McLanda does the same with Tormentor.
“You have really got to quit attracting such negative attention to yourself, Bro,” Nathan states. “It totally bums out the rest of us to realize we could never be that good.”
“Well, perhaps if everyone else worked on self-improvement instead of tearing others down to make themselves feel better, or for their own personal gratification, I wouldn't have to be such a stick-in-the-mud,” Roger enlightens his younger brother. “I'm just simply trying to straighten out their moral compasses so they will hopefully leave their illegal ways behind them.” Roger begins using his telekinesis to pull the ricocheted bullets out of the wall. “Besides, if I'm as pompous and arrogant as you say, then I can't be as good as you say. And, that is something I will just have to work on to improve myself.” Roger smiles at Nathan, then goes back to removing the bullets from the wall.
Nathan shakes his head as he walks upstairs.
Leslie Lynn
A woman walks up the Hill family driveway. She is dressed in a red-violet pantsuit and