| Sep 23 - 03:03:55 |
|
| Post Reply | Post new topic | Page: 1 |
| Cleaning up after a party with Death | Started by: CamachoDesperado on Aug 14, '08 05:14 |
|
My first night in the United states of A. I was lost. A Soul with no name, no face, no country. I forgot all that was behind me. The dead kid I left is now a dusty book, piled up with memories I just burned. I lost all hope of ever looking back, for my past is now a void in time, I never want to go back to. It was up to me to make a name for my self. It was my time. "I am Camacho Desperado." Changing my name was vital, my survival depended on it. My time in the United states of A was a brief encounter with the authority, and a harsh look at reality and violence. I think back, the first thing I did here was kill some kid. What a party. A party with Death. No one actually deserves a death like that. Not that kid, Not even me. As I strolled down the street exiting the bar, I look around, and see the dark alleys, the wet streets, and the dimly lit rooms of the apartments that surround the city I walk into. "Kid, what you up to?" A man I don't recognize asks me from behind. Not even thinking about what he said, I walked on, not knowing where I was going. Blindly, I was evading his every step, and blocking out every sound his voice makes. "Look at me!" He said with a brash tone. I don't want to hurt him, but his tone reminded me of my father. My sweet father, whose breath never stopped smelling like the bar he went to every night back at home. My arm twiched as I turned around and grabbed the miniscule man by the neck. A shimmer on his coat I noticed quickly. A badge. This man was a cop. I'm really in big trouble now. No papers, no documents, hell, all I have is this obvious accent. I was busted. "I'M SORRY" Blood spattered all over my favorite shirt. The only shirt I had. Blood felt cold on my shirt, or was it my skin, and the heart underneath it, cooling every drop of sweat I had. A chilling feeling it was, killing a policeman. Killing the boy a few hours before was bad, but this, this was deep shit. Lost in my wits, I pack him up into a dumpster, taking his gun, his money, and his shirt to boot. I was not just a murderer. I was a thief. Truly, what a great entrance into the USA. My first hours into a new life, and I'm already, cleaning up after a party with death. TBC. |
|
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Great read mate Look forward to the next part |
|
| Reply by: Shagggyd at Aug 14, '08 08:07 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
listens to this tale Sounds like you'll fit right in to the Mafia life |
|
| Reply by: Airbourne_Assailant at Aug 14, '08 09:33 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Sam_Rothstein listens with great interest, then as the intrieging tale comes to an end, places his cigarette in his mouth and puts his hands together, takes the cigarette from his mouth and speaks... A real brilliant story, I really look forward to the third part. You know how to build up a kill with fluent description, well done. Sam_Rothstein shakes camasho's hand and returns to business |
|
| Reply by: Sam_Rothstein at Aug 14, '08 11:27 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Very nicely written mate, keep it up, you makin me proud. | |
| Reply by: -Montiego- at Aug 14, '08 22:09 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
A party we all had around here once in a while. But a always a ncie story to hear. *smiles at Camacho and pets his shoulder* |
|
| Reply by: Sal-Licata at Aug 15, '08 08:14 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Post Reply | View All Threads | Page: 1 |
How much do you want to tip for this post?
Minimum $20,000
Minimum $20,000
