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| Detroit Nights | Started by: KraytLord09 on Feb 22, '20 18:29 |
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Soft foot falls could be heard from his heels gently splashing at the small puddles that had gathered on the side wall. The man's tall shadowed frame disappeared into a back alley, moving like a ghostly apparition into the shadows where a tiny orange flame jumped to life after the sound of a match being struck against the brick wall. The end of his cigarette burned bright as the flame barely touched it and a deep drag could be audibly heard from around the corner. Another shadow, this one creeping against the darkened wall of the building, stopped just before the entrance of the alley. A flash of nickel and the soft click of the hammer being pulled back was all it took...the sound of rapid thunder echoed down the alley, the narrow black space lighting up as three flashes sprayed weird shadows and a mist of blood onto the closely positioned walls. Another drag of the cigarette and the brief moment of light illuminated the nod from the man in his expansive suit. "Ya see, kid...this is why I pay to have yuns watch over me. Now, come see me tomorrow and I will have another job for you. Take this and go have a good night. Tell the bartender the drinks are on me and slip him this package." With that said, he turned and walked away as a larger shadow stepped forward and handed over a rolled up wad of cash and a manilla envelope. I looked at the cash and envelope, the .38 snub still trembling in my hands...knuckles whitening before it was shoved quickly into the pocket of my trench coat. The cash and envelope were then shoved into an inside pocket as I nodded to the local Boss's muscle and got out of there quickly. I made it a few blocks before I tossed the, now broken down and disassembled .38 revolver into different trash piles in a nearby alley. -15 minutes later- Having already given the bartender the package, I sat quietly at my own seat in the corner of the bar, pale faced and tight lipped as I sipped my tall glass of Jameson and hit another cigarette. The first kill was the roughest, least that is what was said on The Streets, but something inside me knew that more blood would come as long as he stayed in the life. |
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| He continued to sip his Jameson, finishing off one last swig before reaching for the bottle and topping it off. He tapped a heavy index finger on the counter and nodded to the bartender, sliding twenty dollar bill over and asking for a cigar and matched. The barkeep nodded back and went under the bar. He came up with a mahogany cigar chest...he reached in and pulled out a fat cigar and clipped the end before passing it over to the young man. "Thank you, sir. Keep the change." He struck a match and began setting the flat tip of his cigar into a wall of red hot ember. A thick mist trickled out of his nose, a large cloud puffing out of his mouth as he finished his first drag on it. | |
| Reply by: KraytLord09 at Feb 23, '20 05:53 | |
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