Posted at 7:42 am on Jun 26, 2015 by:
Derrick Scrivens
Perfect Opportunity
Scrivens didn't get far from work when he came across an unexpected sight: Lombardi's car parked on the side of the road with the hood open. At first, Scrivens wasn't going to stop. After all, he already couldn't stand being around Lombardi at work. Why would he want to willingly be around him outside of work? Glancing down at the driving gloves he was wearing however, an idea began to form in his head. An idea that would allow him to get his own hands dirty.
Slowing, he brought his car to a stop in front of Lombardi's, glancing at him in the rear view mirror. He was putting himself at risk. The road wasn't busy, not at that time of the day, but anyone could drive past at any time. He would have to be quick. Climbing out of his car, he walked towards Lombardi, who was staring at him with a stupid grin. The urge to slap him silly rose up in Scrivens yet again. There was mud in the area, which he carefully avoided stepping in so there were no shoe prints left behind.
"Boy am I glad to see you." That was possibly the first time the feeling was mutual, even if it was for two entirely different reasons. "It just broke down on me. Been running fine otherwise. I was about to call a tow truck, but if you can get it started, that would be a lot easier."
"I'll see what I can do," Scrivens said, walking past Lombardi to the front of car, peering down into the engine compartment. Admittedly, he didn't know a lot about repairing vehicles himself and he certainly didn't know what might be wrong with Lombardi's car.
"Do you think you can fix it?" Lombardi asked, moving to stand next to Scrivens. "You have no idea how grateful I'd be."
Smirking as he continued to look down at the engine, Scrivens couldn't help asking, "Grateful enough to stop kissing Adlers' ass in meetings? Grateful enough to stop trying to fuck me over at every chance you get?"
"What do you mean? That's just business, man." Lombardi let out a nervous laugh. "Besides, can you blame me for siding with her? I can't get enough of that perfume she wears. Don't tell me you don't enjoy it yourself."
"No, I don't enjoy it. That just figures with you though. I don't know what else I should have expected." Scrivens reached into the engine compartment, pretending to check a part.
"Well, that's your loss." Lombardi gave off another of his nervous laughs. "You don't take that stuff at work seriously, do you?"
Finally turning to face Lombardi, smirk gone from his face, Scrivens replied with, "Yes, I do take my job seriously. Maybe you should try doing the same sometime." Lombardi stared back, face blank, clearly unsure of how to respond. Scrivens had expected it to reach this point eventually. The point of where Lombardi's stupidity surfaced at its fullest yet again. It never seemed to be far from the surface.
Suddenly smiling, Scrivens then said, "Look here. I believe this is the problem." Scrivens vaguely pointed into the engine compartment.
Leaning in, Lombardi squinted, trying to figure out what Scrivens was pointing out. "Where? I don't see it."
"Lean in closer and you'll see it." Scrivens took a small step back, watching as Lombardi did as he was told. "Fuck you, Lombardi."
Grabbing the hood as Lombardi tried to stand back up, he slammed it down on top of Lombardi's head, flattening his whole upper body against the engine compartment. Lombardi's legs were kicking and Scrivens could hear him screaming in pain. To solve this problem, Scrivens lifted the hood up and slammed it back down. Lombardi's kicking became less intense and his screams were reduced to faint moans. Scrivens slammed the hood again, stilling and silencing Lombardi, possibly killing him.
Still not satisfied, Scrivens lifted the hood once more and dragged Lombardi's body down until just his head was in the engine compartment. He could see blood oozing from underneath Lombardi's hair. This time, he slammed it down as hard as he could, the lip the hood connecting at the back of Lombardi's neck with a crunch.
Stepping back, Scrivens admired his work. He'd made orders for plenty of people to be killed before, but this was the first person he'd ever killed with his own hands. He kind of liked it. It gave him a certain feeling, knowing that he was directly responsible for someone's death. The death of someone he personally hated. No more stupid comments, no more kissing Adler's ass, and no more preventing Scrivens from doing what he needed to do within the company.
In wasn't long before blood began to drip out from under the hood down to the bumper and then the ground. This was enough to snap Scrivens out of his gaze and he quickly got back into his car, driving off. He'd just committed what he felt was a perfect murder and he couldn't stop admiring it. He even wondered if he'd made a mistake in paying Shizuka to kill off the others. It really wasn't difficult to do at all. Considering he hadn't even been planning to kill Lombardi himself, he couldn't help wondering what he might be capable of if he went through the trouble of planning. If things still didn't work out with the Cybernetic Prototypes project, perhaps liquidation would be an alternate career he could get into.
