Prologue

Some whistled and screamed, tearing through metal and fabric around him. Some ricocheted off the tarmac, spitting grit. Some, aimed high by the newer goombas, tore into a wooded area several miles away, by the time they came to earth.

But seven slugs punched into Tony Lombardi, crushing tissue, before exploding in a pink mist through exit wounds big enough to fit a fist in.

Most people think that when you are shot, the shock prevents you from feeling the wounds until later on. This is a myth. If tony could have talked through the broken tangle of teeth he used to call a mouth, he might have told you this. As it was, his screams should have already told you this.

Tony took 17 minutes to die from those wounds. After 3 minutes, Kid Vinny puked behind a dumpster. Fredo, who always did have a soft spot for the younger boys, put a "fatherly" arm around him and led him away somewhere else; somewhere away from the sound of a man doing a first rate impression of a rabbit being slowly put through a mangle.

After 10 minutes, Micky and the boss got bored, and most of the rest cleared off with them. And after 11 minutes, Tony passed out from the pain. A blessed relief.

Fuck that!

The salts brought him back round, but he was still unfocussed. His eyes glazed over, and started to roll back into his head. So I held my cigarette to the left one. I didn't extinguish it...just held it there, smouldering against his eye, as he weakly tried to flop away from me.

Tony lasted another 5 minutes, during which time my imagination was allowed to run free, and his spirit was not. Eventually, however, I was left with a carcass. The pain I had inflicted had not been enough; not nearly enough. After 3 years in hiding, because of this man's lies and betrayal. After 3 years of knowing he had my girl shacked up in his crumby apartment. After 3 years of knowing he had my fucking money! 17 minutes was not enough time to erase that hatred. Hell, it wasn't long enough for me to even begin to get hard.

My first name is dead. It died when Tony Lombardi murdered and sullied it.

My new name is death. It lives, and breathes, spits and regurgitates bile.

My name is The Hammer...

...and I am not a nice man.

Cowers in fear

Please no hurt me!!!

Hmmmm, You sure do know how to torture someone _The_Hammer_. I however have been tortured in many worser ways. For example. Staying one night in the same bed as good old Hershey here. That is enough torture and more torture then one human can withstand. Im lucky to still be here. However

This diary prologue was a nice read my friend. I always enjoy reading about killing things/people. I really hope that you will make more entries of the diary _The_Hammer_.

This prologue was great. I too, enjoyed reading it, and hope there is more. Good job.

Ooh fantastic, I am on the edge of my seat for more!

Here is hoping a guy like you finds the ample opportunities provided to use that special set of skills.